The New Orleans airport was bustling. A tall Latino boy quickly walked past the boarding gate with his suitcase, scanning the crowd, and soon found his target.
"Joseph! Joseph, I'm here!"
Standing by the boarding gate advertisement was a blonde, blue-eyed boy. He was tall and slim, with a delicate face and a hint of European melancholy, like a character from "The Red and the Black."
Hearing the shout, the boy called Joseph took off his headphones and said, "Kelden, can you not shout all the time."
His tone had a slight Southern accent, and his complaint sounded not so sharp. Kelden laughed heartily, patted his arm, and said, "I was worried you wouldn't hear me with your headphones on. Who knew you had such good ears? Where's Nana? Hasn't she arrived yet?"
Joseph shook his head but turned to look in a certain direction. Soon, a tall, black-haired girl approached, greeted the two, and said, "Good morning, I didn't expect you two to be this early."
"Of course, we have to come early. We're not the kind of idiots who miss flights because of a hangover," Kelden said.
Joseph turned to look at the boarding gate again and said calmly, "It's time to board, let's go."
They boarded the plane smoothly. The business class seats were arranged in a 1-2-1 formation. Joseph sat in the solo window seat, either reading or sleeping all the way, while the other two chatted enthusiastically, continuously sharing snacks and ordering business class meals.
During the layover in Atlanta, Kelden started to envision the trip. He took out a travel guidebook and said, "We'll go to Cairo first to visit museums and castles, then to Alexandria to see the Summer Palace, followed by the natural scenery of Siwa Oasis, the temples of Aswan, and finally diving in Hegada..."
Nana added, "I think if we have enough time, we can also go to Luxor. The hot air balloon views there are beautiful..."
The two discussed heatedly, while Joseph just listened quietly. They seemed used to him being silent, only occasionally smiling at him and asking for his opinion.
Joseph had no objections to their plans, merely nodding gently at whatever they wanted to do, never making eye contact, appearing completely absorbed in his own world.
After reboarding the plane, the two seemed tired from chatting and started to sleep once on board. Upon waking up, they found the plane had not yet landed. Kelden rubbed his eyes, glanced at his watch, and was shocked: "What's going on?! We've been flying for 16 hours already. Wasn't it supposed to be just 14 hours???"
"That's not important now," Nana nudged him and said, "Look at the map, we're not over Cairo at all; we're still flying south. Where is this plane taking us?!"
At that moment, the plane's broadcast came on: "Dear passengers, we apologize for the inconvenience. Due to a sudden outbreak of armed conflict, Cairo Airport is no longer permitted for landing. We are proceeding to land at Hegada Airport under the control of Egyptian authorities. The plane has sufficient fuel, and everything is functioning normally, so please do not worry..."
The cabin was in an uproar, and everyone started discussing. They took out their phones, connected to the internet, and checked international news, finding that Cairo's airport was indeed controlled by an armed group.
Many people began to panic because if the conflict escalated and nowhere in Egypt allowed landing, they might have to make an emergency landing with high risks, possibly even life-threatening. Some were already crying, others cursing loudly, and most were sending messages to their families, urging them to apply pressure on Egypt to allow them to land quickly.
Kelden and Nana were also a bit panicked, taking out their phones to send messages. Joseph, however, just sat there, also looking at his phone but not typing, seemingly just browsing international news.
"Joseph, what should we do?" Kelden said, "If they keep us from landing and we run out of fuel, we might have to emergency land in the desert."
"It's fine," Joseph said, "there will be a solution."
Kelden, still a bit anxious, wanted to ask more, but Joseph had already pulled up a blanket and closed his eyes to rest.
The chaos on the plane didn't last long before it quieted down as people realized there was no use in panicking and that contacting relatives and friends was the best way to ensure their safety.'
At this moment, Joseph pressed the call button. Soon, a flight attendant came over, squatted down, and looked at Joseph, asking, "Hello, sir, is there anything you need?"
Joseph turned to look into her eyes, and the flight attendant paused for a moment. Joseph whispered something to her, and she left.
A while later, the chief purser came over. She also squatted by Joseph's seat, and you could see her fingers trembling slightly. Seeing Joseph's blue eyes, she froze momentarily, then slowly stood up and returned to the preparation area.
Under the curious gazes of other flight attendants, she walked up to the secure door of the cockpit, tremblingly picked up the intercom, and said, "Captain, please immediately inform the control tower that there is a superpower user with mental control ability on board. If they can't immediately let this plane land at Hegada Airport, he will manually control the landing site of this plane."
There was an uproar in the cockpit. The flight attendant holding things nearby suddenly shivered, looking around as if seeing a ghost.
"Did you... hear that?"
"Did you hear it too?"
"Did you also hear someone call your name? I thought I was too nervous and having auditory hallucinations..."
"I heard it too, just now someone called out to me."
"Could it be another passenger... Ahhh!!"
The flight attendants nearby quickly covered their mouths, exchanging terrified glances. The cockpit crew realized something was wrong outside, the co-pilot picked up the intercom, took a deep breath, and repeated the news he just heard to the tower.
The tower initially dismissed it, until the plane's altitude kept decreasing, and a certain voice began to echo in their ears, causing them to frantically clear the runway to allow this Boeing 787 to land first.
"Oh my God! We've landed, we must be the first, right?!" Kelden said excitedly.
"Could there be some big shot on this plane?" Nana wondered as she looked around, hoping to spot who had solved this massive problem.
Joseph gently sighed, put away his phone, tidied his hair, took off his jacket to adapt to Egypt's hot weather, and followed the crowd outside.
Outside the plane, he took a deep breath. The overly bright sunlight made him a bit uncomfortable, and he instinctively glanced into the distance, then froze completely when he met a pair of blue eyes several hundred meters away.
"Joseph, what's wrong?" Kelden gently patted him from behind, saying, "Come on, we need to get on the shuttle."
Joseph just stood there, unable to believe what he was seeing. Why would his father be here?!
Joseph once thought he was mistaken, but he was too familiar with Slade Wilson's mental signature, so he immediately considered a possibility—his father orchestrated all these incidents.
But he quickly dismissed this idea. Because Deathstroke is a mercenary, causing such a commotion wouldn't benefit him. Perhaps he just knew Joseph would be here and wanted to help him.
What puzzled Joseph was that his father hadn't stormed into the tower, slaughtered most people there, and forced the rest to help his plane land. Deathstroke seemed like someone who would do that.
Then Joseph had to notice the figure beside his father. But just as his gaze fell on the other, the person turned around.
Could this be a coincidence? Joseph didn't know, but he knew he should mark this person carefully, fearing that Egypt's turmoil was closely tied to him.
And just as he tried to see the general outline of this person's spirit, some scenes began to flash before his eyes: extravagant banquets, blooming corpses, police rolling in like beans...
"Stay away from him," Joseph said with trembling voice to the shadow.
But the other person seemed not to hear, standing there motionless. Joseph had to repeat, "I said, stay away from him!"
At that moment, he suddenly turned back, even meeting Joseph's gaze directly: "Don't be afraid, child."
The images changed again: lofty and broad church dome, downcast statue of Jesus, deep-seemingly bottomless pit on black land... His spirit began to fall, everything enveloped in a certain hazy and chaotic atmosphere, making it impossible to delineate a contour.
"Leave there, Slade." He forced himself to say. But his once-smart father seemed to have lost his fully developed brain potential, merely standing there foolishly.
More images surged in: blood and flesh, wine and dreams, daggers like rain of thousand stars, thin-shaven white bones everywhere, beneath the statue of Jesus, in the dark pit, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean...
"Get out of there, Slade Wilson... I beg you!"
"Joseph! Joseph! What's wrong with you? Joseph?! Someone hurry, there's a person fainted here!!!"
The companion's roar grew distant, even the whole world started to fade away. In the second before losing consciousness through the closing mental channel, he heard the voice saying to him: "It's very dangerous to so recklessly connect with others' consciousness, I think you should realize this."
Of course, before losing consciousness, Joseph realized he shouldn't use his ability so recklessly.
His consciousness floated in a chaotic darkness, surrounded by those fragments he saw. They no longer seemed so frightening, instead, they seemed to be weaving into a complete story.
College life, church prayer, celebrity banquet, murder case and corpses, and those police officers. This made Joseph realize the man beside his father had a long story. He was so dangerous, yet so distinct.
Previously, Joseph had never encountered a person able to counter him. Whether those called genius students or athletes excelling in sports, their spirits were considered fragile.
His father, Slade Wilson, the infamous world's top mercenary Deathstroke's psychic battlefield was the first place he couldn't fully explore. The overly developed brain region was like a maze, especially when Deathstroke rambled on, making it not only complex but also overly heated. Only during quiet moments, could Joseph utilize his gifted ability to make some analysis.
But this man—Joseph knew him as Schiller Rodriguez—was entirely different. His psychic battlefield was cold as ice, with an entire boundless snowy field. He kept walking in the blizzard until amidst the white, seeing a black high tower standing on the horizon.