Chapter 65: Psychic Ability

“My name is Dennis Luther; you can call me Dennis.”

A scientist entered the laboratory, his expression solemn. “I’ve been briefed on the situation. From now on, I will be taking over Dr. Aidan’s duties.”

Dennis, another renowned virologist, was known for his strict demeanor and high competence. However, as the dawn of victory finally broke over the lab, an uncharacteristic smile touched his lips.

He raised his voice to address the room. “I want this war to end on our watch! Lads, cheer up! The darkest hours are behind us. We are standing on the shoulders of nearly a hundred giants, and it is our duty to secure the final victory!”

“For this serum separation phase, I need every single step executed with absolute speed and accuracy. We’ve already had fatalities in the wards, so time is critical. Every minute we save could mean another life saved!”

“However, speed must not compromise precision. The process must be flawless!” Dennis commanded sternly.

Meanwhile, on The Noah, Head of Security Austin was pacing frantically.

How did I inexplicably agree to Jason’s insane plan? he thought, dragging a hand down his face.

Although there had been no major incidents on the ship, Austin felt a deep, gnawing unease. He knew he couldn’t control the populace on his own; his prestige and popularity were nowhere near Jason’s. If something happened to the Captain and the citizens rioted, what would he do? He couldn’t exactly order his troops to open fire on civilians.

“Well? Are you completely useless? Have you ’foreseen’ anything yet?” Austin demanded, stopping his pacing to glare at the man sitting opposite him.

He was currently down in the detention block, interrogating the self-proclaimed prophet, Calvin.

Calvin looked remarkably healthy. It seemed life in the ship’s brig agreed with him, and he was living quite comfortably.

He offered a forced, placating smile. “Minister Austin, I’ve told you several times. My foresight isn’t omnipotent. It only triggers for major events directly related to my own fate. Why don’t you believe me? I genuinely cannot see what’s happening to the Captain!”

As the Head of the Security Department, Austin directly managed the inmates. Through their interactions, he had become somewhat familiar with Calvin. Over time, Austin had come to realize that Calvin wasn’t inherently evil, even if his methods were extreme. In fact, his core ideals had merit; back on Earth, the government had persecuted him precisely because he wanted to expose the secret of the Perfect Element to the public.

The label of “cult leader” was largely a smear campaign by the Federation.

In a twisted way, Calvin genuinely wanted what was best for humanity. He possessed the fervor of a radical revolutionary, perhaps a bit too radical. After the Earth was destroyed, he had attacked security forces, assassinated corrupt officials, and taken hostages. The body count was too high for him to ever clear his name.

Even though his ultimate goal had been to put Jason in power, public opinion on Calvin remained sharply divided.

Austin was in a foul mood. He briefly entertained the thought of dragging Calvin over to the Mars Base. If I infect him with the Martian virus, it’ll be directly related to his fate. Then the bastard will have to foresee something, right? Fortunately, rationality prevailed. He couldn’t do something so barbaric, so he resumed his anxious pacing in front of the cell.

Sensing Austin’s dark thoughts, Calvin carefully chose his next words. “Uh, Minister… I honestly don’t think you need to worry.”

“Why do you say that?” Austin snapped, whipping his head around.

“He is the Son of God. How could he possibly fall to a mere pathogen in a place like this?”

Hearing this fanatic nonsense, Austin fought the urge to reach through the bars and strangle him. “If you know something concrete, spit it out. If you don’t, drop the mystical garbage!”

Calvin paused, realizing the soldier in front of him had zero patience for his usual rhetoric. He lowered his voice. “Do you… do you ever feel a warm sensation in your chest?”

“What warmth? What are you talking about?”

“It feels… like a miniature sun…”

Austin froze. This exact sensation had been quietly bothering him for weeks. He hesitated before answering. “Yes. I’ve gotten used to it. Do you know what’s causing it?”

Calvin shrugged. “How could I know for sure? But my theory is that it’s a psychic manifestation of Captain Jason’s abilities.”

“What? Psychic abilities?” Austin scoffed, half-believing, half-doubting. He suspected Calvin was trying to run a con on him again.

“Psychic ability. Telepathy. Many laymen dismiss it as pseudoscience, but if you rebrand it as parapsychology, it becomes an accepted academic field,” Calvin said earnestly.

“Most major universities on Earth had parapsychology departments. Cambridge, Stanford, even the Federation’s top academies. I believe this warm, sun-like feeling is the Captain projecting his presence. How else can you explain a mass psychological phenomenon?”

“As long as you can still feel that warmth, the Captain is alive and well.”

Austin remained silent. Although Calvin’s theory sounded bizarre, it logically tracked with the strange phenomena they’d experienced. At least it means Jason is still alive, Austin thought, exhaling a long sigh of relief.

Calvin wasn’t finished. “Uh… did you ever play those old Red Alert strategy games on Earth?”

“Huh?” Austin blinked, thrown by the sudden topic change.

“It was a classic game franchise. You must have played it,” Calvin continued, a hint of pride creeping into his voice as if he were discussing a historical documentary. “There was a character named Yuri who could control minds. Yuri was fictional, but he was based on a real historical prototype!”

“His name was Wolf Messing, a man who allegedly possessed powerful psychic abilities. If you don’t believe me, you can look up the old Soviet Union’s ’KGB Files on Paranormal Phenomena’ in the ship’s archives. It proves that supernatural phenomena have been documented.”

“Many nations had classified parapsychology divisions; the public just never knew about them. I believe that what we call ’supernatural’ is simply science we don’t yet have the technology to explain. Just like my limited foresight…”

Listening to Calvin speak so earnestly, Austin found himself almost convinced. The man was a master orator. Even if his foresight is a total sham, he’d make a hell of a diplomat, Austin thought dryly. If we ever run into aliens, we should send him out to con them. “Captain Jason is Superhuman, He’s the Son of God. What’s so strange about him developing psychic abilities? This is a miraculous development!” Calvin said, his eyes shining with adoration. He had seemingly completely bought into his own mythology.

“Is this kind of mental influence a good thing?” Austin asked, uneasy. The idea of mass telepathy, no matter how he looked at it, felt invasive.

“Of course it’s a good thing! This isn’t mind control. It’s a passive, indirect influence. It naturally encourages people to be more positive and righteous!”

Calvin leaned closer to the bars, his expression serious. “You could say the Captain is influencing us through his sheer force of will. A powerful aura.”

Auras. Austin knew they existed in a mundane sense. Some leaders commanded respect the moment they sat down, making everyone around them cautious and attentive. Others brought a sense of ease and joy when they entered a room. Could Jason’s psychic ability simply be an amplified version of a natural leader’s aura?

“Because of this sun-like presence, the entire populace is more motivated and active. Even the inmates in this cell block have become incredibly docile!” Calvin pointed out.

Austin nodded slowly. He had to admit, he had felt far more energetic and driven recently. And he certainly didn’t feel like his thoughts were being manipulated.

“You’re basically the shot-caller down here,” Austin noted. “Are you saying violent incidents in the brig have dropped?”

“Drastically,” Calvin confirmed. “Everyone seems to have settled down. It’s subtle, but it’s undeniable.”

As the former leader of The Cult of the Void, Calvin had a large following. The two hundred rebels who had survived the Earth incident were all his die-hard supporters, ensuring he lived comfortably even behind bars.

Currently, the prison operated on a labor-rehabilitation system. Inmates worked daily, earned a small wage, and enjoyed limited recreational freedom.

“Previously, a significant portion of the inmates would gamble their wages away the moment they got paid. Now, gambling rings have almost entirely dissolved. Fights over food rations are practically non-existent. It’s as if they’ve genuinely repented. The number of inmates actively following the rules has skyrocketed…”

Austin fell silent, absorbing this information. He hadn’t paid close attention to the micro-culture of the prison, but if Calvin was right, it was a profound shift. And it wasn’t just the inmates; the civilian population on The Noah was exhibiting the exact same positive, cooperative behavior.

Just as Austin was deep in thought, a massive roar erupted from the upper decks of The Noah. Thousands of voices were cheering and shouting, the sound echoing down into the detention block like rolling thunder.

Startled, Austin drew his sidearm and sprinted toward the exit.

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