Abandoned airport.
The metal fence of the abandoned airport screeched as I squeezed through, its corroded surface scraping as if it hadn't been touched for years.
Beyond it, silence.
Well, not true silence. It still had that hollow noise that could unsettle anyone. The wind echoed faintly across the old runway, carrying dust and dead grass.
The place stretched endlessly. There was cracked asphalt and a few small, broken aircraft. To the left stood a colossal hangar.
Perfect training ambiance.
...My footsteps echoed as I walked inside.
A rusted ladder lay collapsed on the floor. Cargo pallets were stacked haphazardly. A toppled baggage cart sat diagonally, one wheel missing. And dust—a thick layer of dust coated everything.
"Now," I commented, my voice echoing. "Telekinesis—" I squatted onto a pallet, sitting as a cloud of dust rose around me. "How do I actually use it?"
I always thought the power was cool, and also extremely broken, depending on the version.
"Well," I let my wrists hang loose, supported by my knees. "I remember in anime they just move their arms. Simple power of will, I guess?"
The problem is that I could only watch those shows, not feel what they did. So there's information missing.
Will.
A realistic approach refutes that idea. Instead of mind-over-matter, it's actually mind-over-machine-over-matter. So, it's not that I push things; I simply send a signal to a device that pushes it.
"Yet, the conclusion of a realistic approach is still, simply, fantasy."
And,
there was one thing I'd noticed while living here: this power wasn't instinctive.
If it were, I would have already used it during the attack, or even in day-to-day life. That meant if something took me off guard, I was dead.
"...Hm." A conclusion came, and I shrugged. "Let's just try something, I guess."
I stood up.
My eyes locked onto the toppled cart. One hand rose, fingers curled like a claw, arm flexed.
'Move.' I willed it.
Nothing.
"..."
'Turn. Stand. MOVE!'
Nothing was happening.
"Shit," I muttered, clenching my hand into a fist. "That thing didn't lie to me, did it?"
Annoying.
Yet, there was a feeling. Deep in my soul. Something intrinsic.
My gaze drifted from the cart and halted on a ladder on the floor, a pile of pallets at its side. My lips parted.
"...mind-over-machine-over-matter," I murmured.
I closed my eyes.
Searching, focusing on that feeling.
A darkness that moved. Formless.
My eyes opened, my hand aiming at the ladder like before.
I felt a comfortable sensation in my brain, a warm shiver behind my ears. Pleasurable. Addicting. Like listening to ASMR for the first time.
A dark glow wrapped around my skin, clothes, hair, even my pendant. The same glow formed around the ladder.
I willed it. The ladder shook, its metal groaning as it was forced upright.
I smirked, holding my concentration. I noticed my clothes, hair, and pendant were all levitating gently. My eyes snap back to the ladder as I pushed it to the side, leaning it against the pile of pallets.
The sound of the impact seemed to echo louder than it should have. A success.
"Great," I couldn't hold back my smile. "What a trippy thing this is."
My hand curled into a fist again, but this time, it wasn't from annoyance,
it was from excitement.
.
Now, back to the thinking.
"It doesn't have a cost?" I questioned, not feeling any obvious strain. It was an absurd claim. "Not sure if the system-thing would be friendly enough to make it that easy."
I hummed, scratching my chin in thought.
"Well, I should run more tests and see how it goes. The answer will come out sooner or later."
"Now that I've discovered how to activate it, I should run tests. How much weight can I lift? What's the maximum distance?"
My eyes drifted back to the toppled cart.
Quickly, I adjusted my stance. My hands clawed at the air. A dark glow traced the cart's frame—
BZZZ!
My hands shoved to the side, and the cart followed. The metal groaned as it was forced upright.
Another success.
...I was now standing outside the hangar on the runway, looking at an aircraft I'd seen a lot in GTA.
"Cessna 172. MTOW. The internet says it weighs around a ton," I confirmed, looking at pictures on my phone.
Yes, I had bought a phone.
"It doesn't look that heavy," I analyzed, studying its simple structure.
Without further ado, I took a position at its front. My arms stretched out, the dark glow staining the aircraft's surface.
I tried to wrap the entire thing in the glow but couldn't. So I focused on one wing.
The structure screeched and bent. My teeth ground together as I overexerted myself.
The thing moved, but it just turned in a circle. Later, I tried pushing up from its center, but the resistance was immense. Yet, for a moment, after a massive effort, it did lift off the ground.
Now I stood collapsed on the floor, panting, my heartbeat hammering in my ears.
"A thousand... kilos... The limit."
.
...I changed locations.
I walked into the baggage claim.
My arm swiped abruptly, a dark force pushing aside the ambient dust in a single wave.
My eyes locked onto the furthest briefcase. It didn't move. I shifted my focus to closer targets until one finally did—an old brown one that trembled in response.
I didn't move.
It came to me.
It swung, just missing my face. I tried to play it cool, but my flinch betrayed me. That thing almost smashed into me.
"About 80 meters. But anything past 40 heavily drains my stamina."
Yes, stamina. That was the cost I had been looking for.
.