2026-04-11 15:40:38The smell of warm, freshly printed photocopies and the sharp chemical stench of dry-erase markers filled the AP Physics classroom. Mr. Vance, a teacher infamous for having a zero-tolerance policy for basically everything, stood at the front of the room with his arms crossed. The eyes behind his thick prescription lenses swept over the room like a predator drone’s camera.
"You have exactly sixty minutes," Mr. Vance’s voice boomed, making the already terrified students shrink even further into their plastic chairs. "Absolute silence. No sharing calculators, no borrowing erasers. If I see anyone's eyes wander even a millimeter toward their neighbor's desk, I will rip your test into shreds right in front of your face. Understood?!"
Raditya stared down at the test packet on his desk. The equations for simple harmonic motion and linear momentum danced across the white paper, looking like a swarm of insects speaking a language he couldn't decipher. A day ago, he would have just accepted his fate, played the guessing game with the Scantron—A, B, C, C, D—and taken the zero. But now, he possessed the ultimate cheat code in the universe: telepathy.
Okay, chill out. I just need to establish a connection with Rio or Maya's brain. They're the Physics gods of this school, Raditya thought to himself. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to tune his mental frequency through the chaotic white noise humming in the room.
However, what he found was pure, unadulterated bedlam.
As soon as he activated his cognitive radar, the psychic audio hit Raditya like a tidal wave. It felt as if his head had been strapped directly to a blown-out subwoofer at a heavy metal concert.
Oh my god, question one looks like ancient Greek, I should just drop out and work at Starbucks, screamed Jonny’s internal voice from the left side of the room. The frequency was so sharp it made Raditya flinch physically.
Ugh, my stomach is completely empty... why didn't I buy those pizza rolls during passing period? broadcasted a girl sitting right in front of Raditya, her mind totally consumed by a 3D visualization of steaming mozzarella.
Raditya forced himself to push past the junk frequencies and lock onto Rio. He pinpointed the valedictorian sitting in the front row. But instead of perfectly structured formulas and answers, he intercepted a massive mental breakdown. Rio, the golden boy that all the teachers practically worshipped, was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack.
What if I don't get a hundred? What if my GPA drops? What’s the formula?! Why is my brain totally blank?! My mom is going to absolutely murder me if I lose my class rank! Dammit, what is the elasticity equation?! I'm dead! I'm so dead! Rio's thoughts spun like a rogue top, generating a frantic, high-pitched static that gave Raditya an instant migraine.
Frustrated, Raditya pivoted his mental "ear" toward Maya in the middle row. Maya was usually ice-cold under pressure. But today, thanks to the broken AC unit blowing warm air and the sky-high stress of the exam, the filter on Maya's brain had completely ruptured—leaking into territory Raditya desperately wanted to avoid.
Instead of calculating the spring constant, Maya’s mind was currently broadcasting a hardcore adult film in IMAX format straight into Raditya's consciousness. She was staring at Raditya’s broad back from a few rows behind, and the sheer hormonal spike triggered by his new, movie-star physique derailed her entire train of thought.
The visualization detonated in Raditya's head.
In Maya's hyper-realistic mental projection, they weren't in a stuffy classroom anymore. They were standing under the blasting showerheads in the humid, dimly lit girls' locker room. The Maya inside her own head greedily yanked the tight t-shirt over Raditya's head, admiring the perfectly chiseled chest and abdominal muscles forged by the lightning strike.
Raditya choked on nothing, a cold sweat instantly breaking out across his back. He watched himself in the projection—a much more feral, aggressive version of himself—grab Maya by her hair and roughly pin her against the wet, tiled wall. His large, veiny hands in Maya's fantasy slid under her short skirt, ripping her soft purple underwear in one violent motion. The sound of the tearing fabric was impossibly clear in his mind.
"Ahh... deeper, Raditya... please..." Maya’s moans echoed inside his skull, sounding terrifyingly real and completely obliterating any logic related to Newton's laws.
Raditya watched as his phantom tongue explored every inch of Maya's trembling skin. In the steamy projection, they were suddenly entirely naked, their wet bodies sliding against each other in a rough, demanding rhythm. Maya imagined Raditya lifting one of her legs and taking her without a shred of mercy under the hot water. Raditya physically felt the phantom heat pooling in his own groin, his actual anatomy rebelling against the tight confines of his denim jeans under the desk. The Maya in his head was screaming to be dominated, whimpering between sloppy, heavy kisses while his hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise.
"Ahem! Raditya! Why are your hands under your desk?! Keep your hands where I can see them and work on the test, this is not recess!" Mr. Vance barked from his podium.
Instantly, Maya's transmission was severed. Raditya jolted in his chair, his face burning the color of a crushed tomato. The entire class snickered, while Mr. Vance glared at him with absolute disgust.
"Sorry, Mr. Vance... I... I dropped my pencil," Raditya stammered, his breathing heavy. The libido that had been forcibly hijacked by Maya's fantasy still left a throbbing sensation at the edge of his nerve endings.
He tried to force his eyes back to the test paper. Dammit, thirty minutes left. Raditya squeezed his eyes shut, blindly casting his net into the room to grab an answer from anyone. Literally anyone, as long as it wasn't a sex scene.
He snagged the thoughts of Theo, the conspiracy nut sitting behind him.
Physics is a hoax. The Earth is flat, and gravity is just a NASA conspiracy to sell bottled oxygen. The answer to every question is C. If you fill in 'C' all the way down the Scantron, it eventually forms the symbol of the Illuminati... yeah, I'm just gonna bubble 'C' for all fifty questions, Theo reasoned with a breathtaking level of mystical stupidity.
Raditya wanted to cry. He shifted his focus to Tanya, the popular cheerleader in the corner.
What's seven times eight? Ugh, did my lip gloss smudge from sweating? This question is probably D. I chipped my nail on my ring finger this morning. D for Disaster. Yep, D it is, Tanya’s internal logic chimed in, completely devoid of any scientific foundation.
Then, the chaos hit its absolute peak. Every single thought from every student in the room mashed together into a deafening, overlapping chorus of pure noise.
A... C... B... no wait, F equals M times A... God I'm so hungry... Mr. Vance has a salsa stain on his tie... Maya looks so hot I just wanna grab her... C... C... D... I wanna go home... what if I'm actually pregnant with Ben's kid?
Thousands of wrong answers, complaints, cheap erotic fantasies, and baseless anxieties waged war inside Raditya's skull. He tried to sift through them, but the frequencies collided, creating a sound like grinding metal against asphalt. Telepathy, it turned out, wasn't an academic navigation tool; it was an audio hellscape where the raw honesty of every human brain utterly destroyed intellectual logic.
Raditya's head throbbed violently. Desperate, he looked up at Mr. Vance, planning to peek into the teacher's mind to steal the answer key directly. But Mr. Vance was currently occupied with something equally distracting.
God, this clock is moving so slow. I'm supposed to meet Ms. Russo in the storage closet under the stairs after the bell. She said she was gonna show me her new 'art supplies'... yeah right, more like afternoon cardio. I can't wait to see how tight she is when I bend her over that desk... Mr. Vance thought, a gross, subtle smirk hiding beneath his thick mustache.
Raditya nearly vomited his breakfast. This entire class was just a collection of hormonal monsters, frauds, and absolute idiots who had no idea what they were doing. His incredible power wasn't granting him academic miracles; instead, it was ruthlessly exposing just how pathetic and corrupted the standards of everyone around him truly were.
Fighting back his nausea and the lingering physical arousal from Maya's fantasy, Raditya finally gave up. He realized he couldn't distinguish a single correct answer in the sea of mental garbage. Telepathy was a total failure when the objects he was reading had absolutely zero valid information stored in their brains.
With a heavy sigh, he glanced over at Rio's paper. But Rio was now internally sobbing, frantically erasing holes into his own Scantron in a state of mental collapse.
"Ten minutes left!" Mr. Vance announced, his mind already drifting to the shape of Ms. Russo's thighs in the dark closet.
Raditya closed his eyes, gripping his pencil in defeat. Using the most primitive instinct available to a high schooler, he filled out the rest of the bubbles on his Scantron completely at random. There was no point in listening to them. The humans in this room—from the authority figure to the valedictorian—were nothing but worthless, screeching static.
C... A... B... D... A... C... Raditya kept bubbling without even reading the questions. He actually felt like a loser right now. Telepathy had only taught him one thing today: he was trapped in a room full of people who were even bigger losers inside their own heads.
CLACK!
Mr. Vance stood up, tapping his clipboard. "Time's up! Pencils down, pass them to the front!"
Raditya handed his test forward sluggishly. As Mr. Vance snatched the paper from him, their hands accidentally brushed. Mr. Vance's psychic signal flooded his brain again: Ms. Russo said she was wearing the black lace lingerie today, right? God, I can't wait to mount her on top of those old filing cabinets...
Raditya yanked his hand back, his face twisted in pure revulsion. He bolted out of the classroom the second the bell rang, ignoring the stares of everyone else. Once he hit the relatively empty hallway, he punched the cinderblock wall in sheer frustration.
"Trash telepathy!" he growled.
He had just learned a bitter, brutal fact: Having VIP access to everyone's brain did not mean having access to the truth. Human beings were creatures of endless distraction, nauseating lust, and fragile egos. The quiet, orderly world of high school was just a surface illusion, and underneath it all, he was going to have to survive swimming through a landfill of thoughts that threatened to swallow his sanity every single second.
His Physics grade was definitely going to be a disaster. But to Raditya, that failure was nothing compared to the harsh reality that his idols, his teachers, and his friends were nothing more than "broken radios" endlessly broadcasting their own depravity.
Raditya marched toward the bathroom, desperate to splash cold water on his face in hopes of washing away the lingering ghosts of Maya's wet dream and Mr. Vance's disgusting obsessions. The day was still long, and his ears were wide open, waiting for whatever fresh rot he would stumble into next.
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Chapter 11: A Failed Experiment at Home
The weathered wooden door of Raditya's room creaked as he locked it tight. The atmosphere inside his house that afternoon felt like a never-ending cold war. In the living room, his father's voice, grumbling about an electric bill that had gone up by less than a dollar, mingled with the harsh scraping of a frying pan being stirred aggressively by his mother in the kitchen. To a normal person, it was just the background noise of daily life. To Raditya, it was a dawn raid on a mental battlefield."Damn, can someone turn this radio off?" Raditya sighed. He tossed his backpack into the corner and threw his athletic frame onto a thin mattress where the springs were already starting to poke his back.Raditya closed his eyes, attempting "Experiment Zero." He took a deep breath, imagining a giant concrete wall sealing off his brain. He wanted silence. But instead of silence, he felt the sensation of tuning into a much sharper frequency. His new body, surging with energy after being struck by l
Chapter 10: A Mysterious Figure in the Corner of Campus
Raditya walked with a slight limp, not because his legs hurt, but because his brain felt like it had just been soaked in a vat of boiling battery acid. The chaotic aftermath of the cafeteria incident left a parasitic ringing in his skull. Every whisper, every suppressed urge, and every petty grudge he had intercepted was still spinning like a broken record in his mind. Becoming ridiculously hot was a blessing, but being a walking receiver for other people's thoughts was a curse that was driving him to the absolute brink of insanity.He needed silence. He needed a dead zone where this cursed "thought-radio" would stop broadcasting everyone's filthy frequencies.Raditya steered himself toward the back of the old Biology greenhouses. It was Liberty High's ultimate blind spot. There was nothing back there but a row of overgrown oak trees, an old sports equipment shed that rarely got unlocked, and a high brick wall covered in thick ivy. There, in a corner nearly forgotten by the daily high
Chapter 9: A Small Act of Courage in the Cafeteria
The cafeteria at Liberty High during second lunch was an audio hellscape. The smell of lukewarm chili, the grease from the deep fryer, and the sweat of hundreds of teenagers collided to create a suffocating atmosphere. To Raditya, this wasn't just a dining hall; it was a frequency minefield. Ever since the lightning bolt rewired his neural structure, he felt like a radio with a busted antenna; picking up every signal with no way to turn it off.He picked a table in the farthest corner near a broken vending machine, hoping his telepathic range wouldn't catch too much emotional garbage. He just wanted to eat his soggy chicken nuggets without knowing who was cheating on who, or who forgot to wear underwear today. But his new looks made him a magnet. His brain's radar vibrated violently as a group of sophomore girls walked past him.Holy crap, his jawline is so sexy. I just want to lick from his ear all the way down his neck, whispered the internal voice of a girl who looked completely in
Chapter 8: Sudden Popularity and Devious Minds
The second-floor corridor of Liberty High felt like a personal catwalk that afternoon. Every heavy, confident step Raditya took in his boots sent ripples through the crowded hallway. He didn't need to keep his head down or pretend to be deeply engrossed in his phone to avoid getting shoved anymore. Instead, he had become the school's new center of gravity."Oh my god, is that really Raditya?! No way!" whispered a sophomore girl, nearly walking face-first into a bank of lockers because she was too busy staring at his razor-sharp jawline."He's ridiculously hot. I swear, I’d gladly stick a fork in a toaster right now if it meant I'd wake up looking like that," her friend replied, not even blinking.Raditya kept his expression perfectly neutral, but inside, his skull felt like it was going to crack open. His physical transformation was a miracle, but his "psychic hearing" was a bottomless pit of hell. The mental signals from across the corridor battered him without mercy.Damn, his ass l
Chapter 7: A Total Telepathic Failure
The smell of warm, freshly printed photocopies and the sharp chemical stench of dry-erase markers filled the AP Physics classroom. Mr. Vance, a teacher infamous for having a zero-tolerance policy for basically everything, stood at the front of the room with his arms crossed. The eyes behind his thick prescription lenses swept over the room like a predator drone’s camera."You have exactly sixty minutes," Mr. Vance’s voice boomed, making the already terrified students shrink even further into their plastic chairs. "Absolute silence. No sharing calculators, no borrowing erasers. If I see anyone's eyes wander even a millimeter toward their neighbor's desk, I will rip your test into shreds right in front of your face. Understood?!"Raditya stared down at the test packet on his desk. The equations for simple harmonic motion and linear momentum danced across the white paper, looking like a swarm of insects speaking a language he couldn't decipher. A day ago, he would have just accepted his
Chapter 6 The Genius's Secret
The smell of damp old paper and lingering floor disinfectant was Raditya's last line of defense. He stepped inside the Merdeka High School Library hoping for one thing: silence. To him, after the canteen drama that left his brain feeling baked by the collective lust of the entire student body, the library was supposed to be a sanctuary. A temple of quiet where his brain frequency could rest.But Raditya quickly realized that "silence" was the biggest lie on earth. Physically, the library was indeed as quiet as a hero’s grave at midnight, but telepathically, this place was a low-frequency battlefield, sharper and more dangerous.Bu Lia, the chubby librarian with glasses tethered by a chain around her neck, sat behind the circulation desk. Her mouth was busy chewing gum slowly, but her inner voice screamed something completely contradictory to her placid face.Damn it, whose armpit smell is this? Can't these snot-nosed brats go one day without making the library carpet stink even more?
