The next day at school was a masterclass in the subtle art of fear. My three new minions moved like ghosts with targets on their backs.
They arrived at their lockers early, left class the second the bell rang, and scurried through the hallways with their heads down, avoiding eye contact with everyone, especially me.
Their terror was a tangible thing, a perfume that announced my presence before I even turned a corner. It was wonderfully effective.
The rest of the student body treated me like a black hole, a patch of empty space they instinctively navigated around. The whispers continued, but they were laced with a new kind of awe.
I was no longer just the mute girl; I was the girl who had somehow broken Mark, the untouchable alpha of our year.
And then there was Maya.
I felt her eyes on me during Heroic History. It wasn't a fearful or a curious glance; it was a steady, unnerving observation.
She wasn't looking at me the way you look at a car crash. She was looking at me the way a mechanic looks at an engine, trying to understand how it works.
I'd catch her gaze, and she wouldn't flinch or look away.
She'd just hold it for a second, her expression unreadable, before returning to the intricate drawings in her sketchbook.
She was a puzzle, and I didn't like having puzzles I couldn't solve.
My focus, however, was on a more immediate goal: earning 100 VP.
I needed the 'Silent Threat' skill.
My power over my pawns was based on a single traumatic event; I needed to solidify it, to weave it into the very fabric of my silent presence.
The opportunity arrived during the morning announcements, broadcast on every screen in the school. The principal's face, beaming with forced enthusiasm, appeared.
"Students of Northgate High! This afternoon, we will be holding a special pep rally in the gymnasium to support our very own Grav-Ball team, the Northgate Comets, as they head to the regional finals!
We'll also be joined by a very special guest via holo-link, the one and only hero, Captain Comet himself!"
The announcement was met with a smattering of half-hearted cheers. The Comets were the school's pride and joy, not because they were particularly good, but because their team was sponsored by Captain Comet as part of his 'Youth Outreach' tax write-off.
The whole thing was a nauseating display of hero-worship and corporate synergy.
It was also, as the system immediately informed me, a perfect opportunity.
[New Mission Generated.]
The familiar red box materialised in my vision.
[Mission: A Rally of Fools]
[Description: An institution is celebrating its false idols. The blind worship of heroes has dulled the senses of the populace. Remind them that even idols can slip, and that reverence can curdle into mockery with a single push. Disrupt the pep rally.]
[Objective: Cause significant, widespread disruption to the pep rally, undermining its intended message of hero-worship.]
[Reward: 100 VP, 50 EXP.]
[Failure Penalty: Loss of all subjugated pawns.]
My breath hitched. The reward was exactly what I needed. But the penalty… loss of my minions.
It was a risk. A big one. Failure would send me right back to square one.
But the thought of humiliating the school and its pet hero was too tempting to resist. This was what the system wanted. This was what I wanted.
The plan began to form in my mind, a beautiful, intricate schematic of chaos.
I didn't have the resources for explosives or grand illusions. I had something better: three terrified, clumsy, and utterly obedient teenagers.
During the lunch break, I assembled my crew. I didn't need a secret meeting room. I simply walked to the abandoned picnic tables behind the science wing, knowing they would follow.
They appeared minutes later, their faces pale, their movements jittery.
I didn't waste time. I pulled out my datapad, its screen glowing with their assignments. I showed the first set of instructions to Leo.
Chemistry Lab, Storage Closet 4B. You will find several large canisters of 'Ammonium Sulphide Solution.' It is used for agricultural demonstrations.
It is also harmless, but possesses a uniquely pungent, rotten-egg-like odour. You will procure one canister. You will proceed to the west maintenance corridor next to the gymnasium. At exactly 3:15 PM, you will have an 'accident.'
Leo read the instructions, his eyes widening in horror. He looked up at me, his mouth opening as if to protest, but then he saw my face.
My expression was utterly flat, promising consequences far worse than detention. He swallowed hard and gave a shaky, miserable nod.
Next was Jake. His instructions were simpler, suited to his more physical but less subtle nature.
Tech Lab. There is a box of retired remote-controlled hobby drones. You will take one. During the rally, find a position in the upper bleachers.
When Principal Thompson mentions Captain Comet's 'soaring spirit,' you will fly the drone into the support rigging for the large banner of the Comets' star player. Make it look like a malfunction.
Jake nodded dumbly, his brow furrowed in concentration. He was probably the only one who saw this as a fun prank rather than an act of forced servitude.
Finally, I turned to Mark. His task was the most critical. He was the linchpin.
AV Room. It's always unlocked during assemblies. You know the control board. When the principal introduces the 'special tribute video for Captain Comet,' you will switch the input source from Video File 1 to Video File 2.
The file is already on the school's shared network, in a hidden folder. Here is the directory path.
I showed him the complex file path I had created and uploaded to from the school library that morning. He stared at it, his face a mixture of terror and grudging admiration.
He understood the precision of the plan. He also understood that he was the one taking the biggest risk.
"They'll trace it back to the terminal," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
I just stared at him. The message was clear: That's your problem. I had no intention of getting my own hands dirty.
He slumped in defeat. "Okay."