2026-04-11 15:26:17The cafeteria at Liberty High during second lunch was a manifestation of an audio nightmare. The greasy smell of synthetic pepperoni pizza clashed aggressively with the pungent odor of locker room sweat, creating a suffocating atmosphere. To Raditya, this wasn't just a place to eat anymore; it was a frequency minefield. Ever since that lightning bolt rewired his neural pathways, he felt like a broken radio receiver, picking up every single signal without a way to tune the static out.
He took a deep breath, letting the air fill lungs that now felt much more expansive beneath his tight t-shirt. With his jaw set and his strides intentionally confident, he parted the crowd.
Instantly, the psychic waves began crashing into him like a barrage of push notifications firing off all at once.
Holy crap, is that Raditya? He's walking like he's on a runway!
He used to look like mold on a wall, how did he turn into a literal diamond? I gotta know what kind of black magic he's using.
Oh my god, his glutes... why is his ass so firm all of a sudden?
Raditya snorted softly, doing his best to block out the trashy whispers. He had only one focus right now: Clara. The girl he had watched from afar like a pathetic background character for two years was sitting just a few yards away at the corner booth—the undisputed throne of the school’s social hierarchy.
The moment Raditya stopped right in front of her table, Jessica and Tanya—Clara's loyal disciples—choked on their respective Diet Cokes. Clara slowly looked up from her iPhone, and for the very first time, Raditya saw genuine hesitation, intense curiosity, and a flutter of nerves in those big brown eyes.
"Hey, Clara," Raditya's voice rolled out deep and resonant, startling Jessica so much she accidentally knocked a glob of ranch dressing onto her skirt.
"H-hey... Raditya," Clara replied. She tried her best to maintain her composure as the school's reigning queen, but inside Raditya's head, her "thought-radio" was broadcasting absolute bedlam.
Oh my god, he smells so good up close! Masculine and fresh. God, his lips... why do they look so full and red right now? Did he get fillers? Focus, Clara! Don't look like you're drooling!
"Mind if I sit?" Raditya asked, pointing to the empty chair beside her.
"Sure, go ahead. Nobody's sitting there," Tanya blurted out before Clara even had the chance to open her mouth. Tanya stared at him with a predatory hunger that wasn't hidden in the slightest. In her head, Raditya caught a brief, vulgar thought: I would literally let him straddle me on this cafeteria table right now if he asked.
Raditya ignored Tanya and sat down. But closing that physical distance turned out to be a massive mistake. A three-foot radius was the "red zone" for his powers. The signal from Clara’s brain spiked to full bars, dragging Raditya straight into the vortex of an unexpected, hyper-explicit imagination.
"What's up? It's not like you to come over here," Clara asked, her physical voice a little shaky as her fingers nervously twisted the straw in her iced coffee.
"Just wanted to ask if you've got a group for the AP Gov project next week," Raditya tried to play it cool, but he was already struggling. Clara's spoken words violently contrasted with the hurricane inside her head.
AP Gov? A project? Who gives a crap about a project! Oh god, his shirt... it looks so tight across his chest. What would happen if those buttons popped and that chest spilled out? Clara's mind went entirely feral.
And that was where Raditya's concentration was blown to pieces. The signal from Clara’s brain was no longer just audio; it was a brutal 4D projection flooding his consciousness. Because Clara’s sexual attraction to the "new" Raditya was redlining, the filthy visualization her brain conjured up was piped perfectly into his mind.
Raditya froze. In his mental vision, he was no longer sitting in the cafeteria. He saw himself and Clara in a dark, cramped space—the school's musty basement equipment room. In this mental projection, Clara was behaving like a wild animal. The Clara inside her own mind shoved him hard against the wooden shelving, her small hands greedily grabbing the collar of his shirt and ripping it open until the buttons bounced off the concrete floor.
"Do it... please, Raditya..." the Clara in the fantasy moaned, the sound drawn out and desperate.
In the hallucination, Raditya watched Clara roughly kiss his neck, leaving hot, stinging hickies. He felt his own hands in the fantasy take action. He grabbed her waist, hiking her short skirt up until her thin, lacy underwear was fully exposed. He squeezed her firm ass, making her gasp sharply between their wet, heavy kisses.
Right there at the cafeteria table, Raditya's real hands began to shake. He tried to look away, but the visual only escalated into more extreme territory.
In the projection, they were suddenly stripped bare. He saw Clara's porcelain skin flush crimson under the dim, flickering bulb of the equipment room. He watched as she dropped to her knees in front of him, her trembling hands reaching out to stroke his heavily aroused, rock-hard length. The visual was terrifyingly detailed; she took him into her mouth with an eagerness and skill that looked practiced yet completely driven by lust, her eyes looking up at him with a mix of absolute worship and hunger.
Then, the scene shifted. Clara was leaning back against a metal desk, her legs spread wide. The fantasy version of Raditya entered her with one brutal, unhesitating thrust. He heard the sound of skin slapping skin, a rapid, feral rhythm constructed entirely by Clara's imagination. The Clara in his head screamed wildly, her manicured nails digging deep into his back as they reached a shared, explosive climax.
"Raditya? Are you okay? Why is your face so red?"
Clara’s actual, spoken question yanked him back to reality with a painful, dizzying snap. Raditya gasped for air, his forehead slick with cold sweat. He stared at Clara, but the phantom image of her bare chest bouncing wildly in his vision refused to peel itself off his retinas.
"H-huh? Oh, y-yeah. It's just really hot in here," Raditya stammered. He suddenly felt his jeans becoming excruciatingly tight.
"What were you saying before? AP Gov?" Clara asked, trying to bring the conversation back, even though her own thoughts were still spiraling: Crap, the way he's looking at me... it's like he wants to devour me right here! Can he tell I was just picturing him without his shirt? Ugh, no way, that's impossible.
Raditya looked down at his tray. "I... I think I forgot what I was gonna say."
Good lord, Clara is so damn loud! Why is your head completely filled with p**n, Clara?! Raditya’s internal voice screamed in frustration.
Seeing Raditya look so disoriented and flustered, Jessica, who had been watching the whole exchange, let out a small, mocking laugh. "Are you sick, Rad? Is being a little slow one of the side effects of getting struck by lightning?"
God, this hot nerd, if he keeps looking like that I'm gonna drag him to one of those hourly motels off the interstate, Jessica's internal monologue rang out, proving to be just as much of a mess.
Raditya felt nauseous. His ability to read minds wasn't a cheat code for flirting; it was a curse that forced him to see the filthy, selfish motives of the people he used to idolize. He looked at Clara, desperately searching for some shred of romantic idealism or intellectual depth inside her head, but what he heard only made it worse.
Why is he just staring at his food? Do I smell bad? Is my bra strap showing? Ugh, I should have spent more time on my makeup this morning. But seriously, his chest... I want to know what it feels like to be pinned down by arms that big, Clara’s thoughts echoed relentlessly, drowning out the physical voices of her friends chattering about TikTok trends.
"You... you should probably just get your project sorted out, Clara. I'm gonna head back to class," Raditya said abruptly. He stood up so fast his chair screeched loudly against the linoleum.
"Wait, what? Why the rush? We didn't even finish talking, Rad!" Clara called out, her face falling in genuine disappointment. In her head, a pathetic wave of sadness washed over the lust: Why is he leaving? I was just about to ask him to eat with me. Did I gross him out? Crap, maybe I'm really just not sexy enough for him anymore.
Raditya didn't look back. He practically jogged out of the cafeteria, weaving through the lines of students whose minds were equally noisy, absurd, and exhausting. His head throbbed violently. He realized that Clara's flawless exterior and status did not equal internal peace. Clara was incredibly "loud" in the most torturous way possible.
Once he reached a relatively empty hallway, Raditya leaned his head against the cold cinderblock wall, trying to cool down a brain that felt like it was overheating. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the image of Clara screaming in ecstasy in that dark equipment room refused to leave.
"Dammit..." Raditya breathed out.
It turned out that getting a handsome face was only step one. The much harder step was trying not to lose his absolute mind when he knew, with 100% certainty, that everyone around him—especially his dream girl—was just an animal constantly plotting out highly creative ways to screw inside their own heads.
Raditya clenched his fists. This "thought-radio" was truly the most intoxicating and infuriating curse he could have ever received. If someone as seemingly perfect as Clara was that corrupted inside, what about the rest of them?
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his still-pulsing "radar." Popularity? He had it now. But peace? It seemed like that had just been stolen by the roaring lust he'd intercepted from the prettiest girl in school.
Raditya steadied himself and started walking again. He still had half the school day left to survive. And there was plenty more insanity waiting for him. One thing was for sure: his life as the hallucinating prince had just begun, and his taste in women was probably going to change drastically now that he had to listen to their painfully honest "internal organs."
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Chapter 45
The Mirror laughed, a sound like grinding gears.“The Foundation understands the duality of power. When one anomaly rises, they create a counter. You, boy, are a temporary disturbance. I am a permanent solution. And you,” he tilted his head, focusing on Bianca, “you’re just a girl playing with wires. Your contribution is insignificant.”Bianca stiffened, her face hardening. Her defiance burned brighter than any fear.The confrontation began not with words, but with a raw burst of psionic energy. Raditya unleashed a mental assault, not as direct as before, but more a widespread wave, designed to destabilize the Mirror’s systems. But the robot absorbed it, its eyes glowing a menacing red. A searing wave of pain shot back, overwhelming Raditya’s senses. He gasped, clutching his head.“No, that won't work, Raditya!” Bianca cried out, her scanner buzzing with frantic readings. “He’s deflecting it!”Argo reacted instantly, firing a concussive burst from his unique, unidentifiable weapon. Th
Chapter 44
The pandemonium was absolute. Teachers, students, agents alike, were now lost in a whirlwind of personal confessions and amplified grievances. The Organization’s tight grip on the school was fractured. Raditya had unleashed not just chaos, but anarchy.And in the midst of it all, a chilling thought surfaced, separate from the throng. It wasn’t from a teacher or student. It was sharper, colder, more dangerous. It was from a distant consciousness, one that echoed in the deeper layers of the school’s network. It was a familiar echo, a twisted reflection of his own amplified abilities.As Raditya struggled to maintain the immense psychic broadcast, feeling the edges of his consciousness fraying, he saw a figure emerge from the terrified crowds in the auditorium. It was Clara. Tears streamed down her face, her once bright eyes now vacant and dull. But her thoughts, amplified and distorted, pulsed with a raw, broken desire for him.“Radit… you always made me feel special… please… make them
Chapter 43
Argo, who had been silently observing, finally spoke.“Not everyone. The Foundation needs subjects. But they also need leverage. And to maintain order when their primary objective is achieved. Those who show promise will be… retained. The rest are… collateral damage. Or disposable assets.” His tone was chillingly neutral, a testament to his past experiences.Raditya felt a fire ignite within him, hotter than the energy coursing through his veins. He looked at the schematics on Argo’s tablet, tracing the ventilation shafts leading into the auditorium. He felt the impending dread of thousands of young minds about to be silenced.He could see the cold, calculated efficiency of the Organization’s plan. His plan, now controlled by them. His life, his powers, twisted into a tool of subjugation. The thought of being the instrument of such a devastating operation, especially with his father as the architect, was almost unbearable.But he also knew something else. Something profound that had c
Chapter 42
Raditya's hand hovered over the console. Azure energy crackled around his fingers, unstable, almost hungry. He could feel it wanting to discharge. His father’s voice still echoed in his head, a unique blend of twisted affection and cold calculation that only he could pull off."If this world must forget, then Father is the first I will erase." He hadn't meant it as a threat. That was the worst part. He'd meant it as a kindness.The contract. Mayor Mulyadi's signature at the bottom, clean and unhurried, like the man had signed a building permit. Leo's fleeing thoughts had carried that detail to him and Raditya wished they hadn't. Because now he couldn't stop thinking about what it meant for everyone still inside those walls.His eyes moved across the monitors. One feed after another. The chaos was getting worse. The hum of the system thrummed against his skin, a symphony of impending doom.A deafening klaxon wailed, far louder and more insistent than the usual fire drill alarms. It was
Chapter 41
The video shows him on the parade ground, on that day that will never be forgotten. Moments before the lightning strike that engulfed his consciousness headed toward him, something else held him back. That figure, reaching out its hand, as if trying to lock his consciousness so it wouldn't drift away.In those seconds that made his whole body feel frozen, something pulled him out of that place, out of his nightmare. It pierced through his field of vision, trying to open a lock of truth buried deep within him. A flash of maroon was faintly visible at the edge of the frame.But then… something much larger suddenly shone upon him from behind the darkness beside the field. Something so bright. A large shadow moved in front of the sun, and he shouted at someone to run.In the recording, Mulyadi is seen standing behind his dark shadow, as if he had just stepped out of an… elevator. It wasn't just him who transformed. There, he could see himself in the video, standing tall. His eyes, which w
Chapter 40
Instantly, Leo spun around, throwing open the door behind him in a frenzy. His body blurred, his shadow seemed to vanish as he fled in a panic through the secret door next to the same toilet where Raditya and Bianca had exited earlier. It was an escape hatch Raditya had just learned about.THUD!From the closed door, an echo resounded. Dizziness washed over Raditya, the anger he had been harboring now curdling with the horrifying truth. A contract? The principal? A vendetta? Leo hadn't just betrayed him; he had ensnared him in a trap far larger and more cruel. This was total ruin. He had to save everyone.Outside the room, he could hear new warning sirens. Louder, more rapid. The panicked screams of students and teachers, and the steady, rhythmic march of military boots. This was no fire drill, as Argo had claimed. It was something far crazier. Something that felt far more terrifying. Where were his parents? Why did no thoughts of them cross his mind? Why only a void? They were still
