What happens when you can suddenly hear the thoughts of everyone around you?
For some, maybe it's a blessing. Now they can see through the charming smiles and polite masks, peeking into the rotten truths people hide behind their faces. But for others, this "ability to see through disguises" becomes a curse. They hear the filth people keep buried. They realise how disgusting someone beside them can be. They learn that entire personalities can be nothing more than lies.
"Should I fuck her?"
"I should ask for a million as my cut this time."
"If I leak the documents, the whole business will be mine."
"Those disgusting mutants… they should all burn in hell."
Hearing the last thought, Bruce's steps faltered. He turned his eyes toward the man sitting alone on a bench in the park, pretending to read a newspaper.
The moment Bruce looked, memories flickered through the man's mind.
'He's never suffered because of mutants,' Bruce noted. 'No dead family members. No property damage. Not even faced a mutant. And yet… so much hate.'
A faint sigh escaped him.
'Sublime really did a number on humanity. Well… not just him. The Skrulls, the government, and mutants themselves. People judge what they see. And what they see isn't exactly reassuring.'
He knew the reality mutants faced, being hunted, discriminated against, imprisoned, tortured, experimented on. And the root cause? They had no unified stance. Too many radicals. Too many pacifists. Too many pretending to be neutral while doing nothing. No one trying to solve anything.
"Similar to the how Uchiha was huh…" Bruce muttered as he resumed walking.
He had come out today hoping a stroll would clear his mind like he always do after transmigrating. But after obtaining the telepathy template, this stroll was only making things worse.
"Power corrupts," he said quietly, aware of the irony. He could feel it in himself, the growing habit of dipping into people's minds without hesitation, without guilt. Invading their privacy like it was nothing.
'Maybe it's the shinobi in me… always collecting information,' he thought. 'Or maybe it's Toyo Harada's influence.' Either way, it was getting harder to stop.
"Still… I have to control myself," Bruce muttered under his breath, reminding himself of the consequences. "If I accidentally use this ability on someone strong, it could turn into a conflict I can't walk away from."
The instinct came from the shinobi world, old lessons carved into him through blood and survival. Back then, using a jutsu on an unknown individual was equivalent to declaring a life-and-death battle. Even activating the Sharingan inside the village had been seen as a hostile act, something that invited suspicion and resentment.
Here, telepathy worked the same way.
A mental intrusion was basically an attack. Simple as that.
Bruce knew it in his bones. Back in the shinobi world, if someone tried poking around in your mind, that wasn't a misunderstanding, that was a kill-or-be-killed situation. And honestly? He wouldn't have hesitated. Unless the person dying created even bigger problems… like, say, Professor X or Marvel Girl. Yeah, killing either of them would be the kind of headache even he didn't want.
Of course, now things were different. With [Mental Fortress], he no longer had to worry about telepaths slipping into his thoughts. No psychic in this world could break through the layers of traps, dead ends, and false memories protecting his mind.
Still… paranoia was a habit that didn't fade easily. He didn't trust the perk blindly. Not when he knows about the OAA or the Presence, basically "we're omnipotent, deal with it" type beings.
"Why would someone like them even be interested in a nobody like me…" he muttered, chuckling at his own ridiculous thought.
And then—
She will taste good.
Bruce froze. Those weren't his thoughts.
His eyes snapped toward the source, a man standing a few steps away, staring at a girl, barely ten years old, waiting at the roadside with her backpack, holding onto her mother's hand.
Bruce's didn't show any facial change but the man's grin twisted, and his body jerked like a puppet whose strings were yanked. In the next second, the "hunter" suddenly stepped off the pavement and started walking straight into the road.
Despite the green light.
"Wait—what the f—"
"Hey! Come back, you idiot!"
People around them noticed too—shouts, warnings, panicked voices. But it was already too late.
A speeding car tried to brake—
Screech—
WHAM!
The man was flung forward like a ragdoll, tumbling across the asphalt.
For one full second, everything went dead quiet and then the chaos hit like a wave.
People rushed toward the body, shouting for help, while others… of course… pulled out their phones to record the damn corpse because apparently basic human decency was optional in this era.
Bruce watched as a couple of men immediately turned on the car driver, yelling at him like he'd committed cold-blooded murder. The driver himself looked pale, trembling, eyes wide with the kind of fear only a sudden "you just killed someone" moment could trigger.
But even then, he somehow kept his brain working."I—I didn't do anything! He just walked out! The light was green!" he stammered, trying to defend himself.
Another group stepped in to back him up, pointing toward the traffic camera mounted above the intersection.
"It's all recorded!" one man argued. More voices chimed in, supporting the driver, pushing back against the accusers. Tension crackled in the air as everyone started arguing, forming little clusters around the scene.
And through all of it, Bruce just stood there, lips pressed in a thin line, eyes cold as he watched the consequences of a single intrusive thought unravel across the street.
'Controlling someone feels way too good…'he concludes, an uncomfortable little thrill running through him. It reminded him a bit too much of how he used to wield his Sharingan back in the shinobi world, twisting minds, bending will, pulling people into illusions like it was nothing.
Maybe that was why it felt so natural now.
Maybe that was why it felt tempting.
Actually… I could probably recreate those old genjutsu with my new psychic abilities, he thought, a little too casually for someone imagining putting people through a Tsukuyomi-style nightmare.
"Still… even I have some moral values, huh."
Bruce let out a breath, surprised at himself.
It wasn't like he cared about crime. Even seeing a human experiment, he wouldn't have jumped in to play hero. That wasn't who he was. That wasn't who he'd ever been.
But a kid?
Yeah. That hit somewhere deeper.
Maybe it was because she smiled like the classmates he used to have, those kids who laughed, joked, complained, and then died in front of him as disposable cannon fodder in a war they never understood. Kids who had no idea how cruel the world actually was until it crushed them.
Maybe that was why he acted. Maybe that was why the thought of doing nothing made his stomach twist.
He scratched his cheek and sighed."… now I'm getting sentimental."
Still he didn't regret it. Not this time atleast.
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So... You Like to Party?: So this is awkward but, to address another elephant in the room... Mutants, superhumans in this world in general if we're being honest, have always had a rather liberal attitude toward sexuality and related topics and Krakoa has decided to lean into that as part of creating their own national identity. Just in case you are interested in such things, here's a blanket immunity to any and all sexually and socially transmitted infections, perfect control over your own fertility and any related. bodily functions, and a guarantee of perfect cleanliness and comfort for all involved parties when you are with a romantic or sexual partner. Everything else is up to you.
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Low level Anime Worlds for travelling