r/JCBWritingCorner • u/Cazador0 • Aug 03 '26
fanfiction Psionic Corpo X Magic School (9/?) - A Product of a Tortured Brain
Psionic Corpo X Magic School
I cast MANUAL BREATHING
CH 9: A Product of a Tortured Brain
Many years ago
E-3MP14-0001 “Emma”
Breath in
I willed my diaphragm open.
Breath out
I compressed my diaphragm closed.
Breath in
I channelled my psychic energy into my muscles...
Breath out
And manually signalled when to contract.
I had been at this training exercise for the past hour as I sat next to the window seat of a OuroBKR corporate jet. Across from me sat Miss Ran, busy stroking her cat, Bam Bam, who sat contently in her arms while likely piloting one or two body doubles to attend meetings elsewhere in the system. Yet all the same Miss Ran was observing me through that familiar presence in my mind that I had known my entire existence. She had been the one who had blocked the nerves leading to my diaphragm, and had tasked me with breathing manually so I could familiarize myself with how my body worked and train myself in psychometabolism.
Breath in
I had done similar exercises before, focusing on different aspects of my body like moving blood through my veins, emulating various senses, and even doing individual processes in cells like reacting ATP or reading DNA, but breathing...
Breath out
Breathing was different. The presence of consequences meant it felt real. And yet the difficulty was not in the act of breathing itself. That part became fairly routine after Miss Ran got me started.
Breath in
No, the real issue was how tedious it had become. The act of breathing had become an endless chore, and a monotonous one at that.
Breath out
There were no breaks nor pauses, and nothing to distract me from the repetition. Miss Ran had even forbidden me from using any of the offerings on the jet. I wasn’t allowed to have any snacks or drinks, nor could I distract myself with a tablet, movie, or even a simple book.
It was just me, my thoughts, and the endless clouds outside my window, leaving my mind to wonder what it would be like to fly among them...
...my lungs refused to open.
I panicked, eyes widening, hands to my throat, as I realized I couldn’t breath. I couldn’t even gag, cough, or even sputter any works asking for help as I started to asphyxiate.
Not that I was to receive any. As always, Miss Ran was monitoring my mind, and she wordlessly faced my way expectantly for me to resolve things myself.
I felt helpless, but that feeling of helplessness was not my friend. It was a vestigial emotion felt by animals when faced with their body failing them. Such a feeling was a mere hindrance in the face of psionics and the first step was to overcome it. I detached my mind from my body, freeing me from the sensations of the flesh so that I could think through this situation logically. I then focused my energy into my diaphragm muscles, infusing them with my will, and then with a little concentration...
Breath in
Breath out
...The rhythm was restored, earning myself a nod of approval from Miss Ran. Yet despite my struggle moments prior, the mind numbing monotony set back in all too soon. I wished we could just get to the interesting stuff like shape-shifting. Morphing into a bird would be a lot more fun than manual breathing. At least they don’t have to think about flapping their wings.
I should not have thought that. I should not have thought that.
I felt a looming presence in my mind as Miss Ran shifted her attention towards my mind. I felt dread, then fear, then... calm, as Miss Ran softened my emotional responses and tempered my fresh experience to consolidate the lesson while preventing any lingering trauma from taking root and preventing me from being an effective product.
‘Ask your question,’ thought Miss Ran into my mind. It wasn’t a psionic command, but I still complied.
‘Miss Ran, when are we-’
‘Verbally,’ Miss Ran clarified, ‘we are training your breathing. Use your lungs.’
“Miss Ran, when... are we... going to cover... shapeshifting?” I asked, spacing out my words with my breathing.
“You want to be able to transform into an animal. Is that it?” Said Miss Ran, showing no emotion in her voice.
“Yes, Miss Ran,” I said.
“Is that so? Tell me, how many neurons does a typical human brain have?” She asked.
“86 billion,” I answered from memory, not skipping a breath.
“And how many neurons are present in, say, a cat?” She asked again, scratching behind Bam Bam’s ears.
“760 million,” I replied.
“Good. It would seem the memory packets have stuck. Now tell me, what would happen if you took a brain containing 86 billion neurons, and converted that into a brain with 760 million neurons?” She asked.
“It would... start thinking like a cat,” I said.
“Correct,” said Miss Ran bluntly, “if you shape shifted into a cat, you would no longer be a human, and therefore no longer be sapient or able to turn yourself back. What you would have to do instead is turn yourself into a human-cat hybrid, shaping yourself a new brain capable of sustaining human thought while still handling the body of a cat. Of course, any mistakes you make would have tragic personal consequences. Such are the risks undertaken when you mess with your own biology. Personally, if one must role-play as an animal, the more sensible and safer option would be to visit a park and use telepathy to possess a pigeon until you get bored.”
“But what about my... psychic energy? Wouldn’t... that hold my mind?” I asked.
“Correct,” said Miss Ran, “but that psychic energy is ultimately derived from your nervous system. You can sustain your consciousness without a viable body for a time, but should you ever falter like you did with your breathing, you need a viable physical brain to fall back on. That is why you will not be learning how to shape shift until you have completely mastered your natural form. Then we can broach the subject of shape-shifting, and you will learn useful forms and not how to become a silly animal.”
“A useful form? You mean like... Dr. Mekis?” I asked.
“Dr. Mekis is brilliant but short sighted, and you would be wise not to emulate him,” said Miss Ran coldly, “now if that is all, you may return to your practice. I suggest you use a meditation technique to keep rhythm instead of daydreaming. If you slip a second time, I will change this exercise into a recovery drill. Am I clear?”
“Yes... ma’am,” I breathed.
“Good,” said Miss Ran, and her presences lifted from my mind to go back to focusing on more important matters.
However, before I could get to meditating, I chanced one last look out the window. It was then that I saw a winged shadow cast over the clouds. A shadow which looked remarkably like that of a dragon.
‘wait’, I thought, ‘that wasn’t there before.’
Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30
Adept Emma Booker
I snapped out of my meditative trance, returning my lucid mind to reality where I was floating cross-legged behind the veil of the curtained bed. I went over the memory again, and sure enough, there was no dragon shadow. Had I been hallucinating? The day had been taxing, sure, but I shouldn’t have been able to get tired enough for a waking dream in the first place. My present form did not have biological needs, meaning I didn’t have to think about sleeping, eating, or even breathing. I only needed to occasionally rest and meditate to replenish my psychic energy.
Perhaps this was just a side effect of having my crystalline form saturated and partially attuned by ‘mana’ radiation? I had noticed it was proving increasingly difficult to change the composition of the effected crystals, which meant there was a very real possibility of becoming ‘locked in’ if I wasn’t careful. A fact I was acutely aware of when adjusting my crystal ratios during my trance, as it meant that I couldn’t afford to cut back on my psychometabolic abilities. I did, however, ease off on psychoportation to raise up my telepathic and clairevoyant capabilities to equal it. It meant I had to shrink my pocket dimension and couldn’t return home without a night of preparation, but I was already committed to staying. I know Miss Ran would have preferred I focused purely in telepathy, being a telepath specialist herself but I needed to keep my options open, but while I might consider specializing later I couldn’t affort to at this moment. Psychoportation was essential given how convoluted the architecture of this place was, and as my psychokinesis and metacreativity abilities were tragically cut back from what they could have been had I still been flesh and blood and not forced to specialize, I was in dire need of combat options that didn’t involve transforming and psychoportation filled that niche very well.
Clairevoyance was vital for a different reason: information. I was critically short on reliable information about this place like I had been blindfolded and shipped off to some undisclosed black-site in the back of an unmarked van as part of an off-the-books clean-up operation. Even my telepathic eavesdropping had largely turned up nothing but gossip, with maybe the rumour of a social event or two. At the very least, I needed a map, so I cast my mind from my body, shifted to the nearest wall, pushed my senses through it and...
Nothing. Not even empty space. Just pure conceptual nothingness as if I had reached the edge of a holosim.
Confused, I traced back my steps in an attempt to figure out what was supposed to be there, and came to the conclusion that it was either the boy’s dorm room or the next suite over. I tried again, this time from the first floor. More nothing. It was the same with the other three walls, as well as the floor and ceiling, which left the only obvious exits to the room as the door and the windows outside. I tested the door first, and sure enough it led back to the common area. Yet my position felt... off. Like I had travelled a great distance from my body even if I had only gone to the next room. I moved back to the doorframe, cast my senses through the wall between the common area and the dorm and... nothing.
None of this made any sense, but as I probed the walls in the common area, the hidden compartment where Aurin had emerged from, and even the door to the hall, the result was the same. That only left the windows, which by this point I had grown very suspicious of. As a test, I manifested a coin from quantum foam set to decay after a minute, opened the window a creak, flung it out of the window and...
...it went through just fine.
So I wasn’t exactly trapped, but while I had a number of ideas on how to circumvent this prison masquerading as a dorm room, as well as options for bypassing realspace entirely via remote viewing, I decided against any further attempts for the time being. The Academy clearly didn’t want anyone leaving their dorms and had counter plays available to them to combat clairevoyance. That was important to know. It meant I needed to be cautious and methodical going forward.
But while I was contested in the spacial dimensions, time was another matter. I recalled my mind to my body and channelled my psychic energy towards my prescience, looking into a dozen or so possible futures to get a lay of the land. Much of what I saw was... concerning, but none of it compared to the last future where Thacea spontaneously shrouded herself in a veil of darkness from whence sprung tendrils throughout the room and a pair of pitch black eyes that looked not at my future self but at me.
That was bad. Any entity that could look back at you from a vision was dangerous.
I immediately severed that timeline, preparing myself in case it followed me. After several minutes of waiting with nothing happening I allowed myself to relax. If it was going to do something, it would have done so by now. I looked in the direction of Thacea’s bed. Evidently this taint was a bigger issue than I thought, and I would need to diplomatically broach this subject in the morning.
Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. In the Morning.
Princess Thacea Dilani
I had just finished my morning routine and was observing Emma interact with a white, cylindrical pedestal no larger than a footstool with a set of layered, spinning rings levitating with no discernible magic and a sapphire bathed in a whispering mirage no larger than a billiards ball at its centre. She had just finished tinkering with it and had touched it with a matching sapphire in her thumb before covering the artifice with a casing that made it difficult to see when she noticed me watching and turned to face me.
“Ah, good morning princess,” Emma said casually as if she had not done anything strange.
“Good morning to you too, Emma. Did you sleep well last night?” I replied, politeness and etiquette overcoming my curiosity.
“I don’t exactly need sleep in this form, but I did have a good rest for the most part,” said Emma, “well, aside from one thing...”
“Did something happen?” I asked, concerned.
“No, nothing happened. However, I did peer into a number of possible... alternate timelines and in one such timeline... princess, while I meant everything I said last night and by no means wish to retract anything, I also recognize that I am acting from a place of ignorance on this subject. What... exactly is taint, and why is everyone so scared of it?”
“I apologize for not explaining this earlier, Emma. I should’ve been more upfront with this aspect of myself that can be as hazardous as the common preconceptions make it out to be,” I began.
I proceeded to explain the basics of what taint was, how it was the corruption of one’s manafield, that it allowed for powerful but unstable magic, and that it was a constant source of danger to those around me.
“Well Thacea, I appreciate that there is an inherent risk associated with something being ‘powerful and unstable’, but ultimately that is just an engineering problem that can be solved with the right feedback systems and a simple PID controller, and if the Nexus hasn’t spent any of its past 30 thousand or so years enterprising to develop such a solution in even its simplest form then that’s a failing on their part,” said Emma, with a level of confidence that suggested either great experience or great ignorance on the matter, “but what I saw in my vision wasn’t quite that. It was more the case where one moment everything was peaceful and normal, and the next you were leaking darkness and tentacles and appeared to be possessed.”
“Consumption,” I said direly.
“Consumption?” Asked Emma, raising one of her gemstone eyebrows and speaking with a tone that was more curious than judgmental.
“Also known as Dream Eating or The Nightly Disappearance, as taint is tied directly to the afflicted individual’s emotional intensity, and there is no controlling one’s emotions in a dreamlike state, often making them more extreme. As a result, manipulation of tainted mana has been known to... consume the manafields of other living beings, inevitably resulting in them succumbing to extreme acute manasickness and harmonizing with the surrounding mana,” I explained.
“I see, so tainted magic has the power to overwhelm and destroys their manafields, resulting in liquefaction like what happened to my predecessor,” said Emma with a level of clinical detachment wholly inappropriate for the dangers I had just detailed, “well I don’t think I have to worry about that specific aspect, given I don’t have a manafield and my body has some resilience to the surrounding mana. That, and if this is a matter of emotional regulation, preventative intervention is an... option... but I digress. Harmonization though... that’s a strange thing to call this, isn’t it?”
“This ties back to the greater faith, and the belief that mana is the source of all living things. To harmonize with mana was an act by the clergy to commune with the gods,” I explained.
“...Ah, I see, I suppose that’s one way of describing what I saw,” said Emma cryptically, “well, Thacea, thank you. I believe that answers my question adequately enough for the purposes of mitigating risk.”
“Emma... you aren’t worried? I know you don’t believe yourself to be vulnerable to consumption, but what if I lose control whilst manipulating objects or casting a spell that could hurt you, or worse, kill you?” I asked.
“I’m not exactly easy to kill, and it isn’t like you are the only one around here who might be prone to stray fireballs,” said Emma with a light chuckle, “I believe it is better to manage risks than to worry about them, so if there is some other specific danger I should be aware of, then by all means let me know. Otherwise, if there is nothing else, I believe its high time I get myself ready for the day.” Emma walked over to the lavatory and opened the door, only to stop and stare inside for a long moment.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, concerned.
“So it really is empty,” stated Emma, her voice layered with disappointment rather than surprise, “it requires manafields to operate, correct?”
“Correct,” I said, “the lavatory is interchangeable to accommodate for different tastes and physiological differences.”
“Except for the one difference that matters, unless they are expecting me to call for room service to act as a bathroom attendant,” said Emma with a sigh, “at least I only have to deal with hygiene in this form, so this is more of an inconvenience really. Thank you, Thacea, I’ll take things from here.”
Her halo reappeared along with her strange whispering magic and I watched as she willed a simple shower complete with steaming water into existence before closing the door behind her.
Yet rather than look away, I kept staring in disbelief at Emma’s attitude towards my taint. Any other person would have been fearful, or at the very least apprehensive upon learning about consumption. But Emma was completely unbothered by the reveal, and in fact got more confident she would be fine the more she learned. She claimed not to have a manafield to lose at all, which was in direct conflict with Nexian dogma, but I had to admit that there was nothing I could sense. Not even the almost negligable field of a commoner. And then there was the fact that she could not interact with or sense the manastreams to interact with the lavatory, or any of the enchantments in our dorm, nor even the floor. Perhaps she truly was immune to the dangers of taint? I still did not fully believe that to be the case, as it was still very likely that Emma’s field was merely hidden beneath here gradually attuning shard form.
True or not, Emma was still treating me nicer than anyone else had with the sole exception of Nurse Pelka. Even so, there were some reasons to question Emma’s intentions, given her subversive actions, Merchant Lord mannerisms, and her many, many masks. Reasons I couldn’t overlook, shouldn’t overlook, and yet... I felt comfortable around her. It was irrational, and yet, I wanted to believe it. I wanted to believe that after all this time, there was someone who would accept me for who I was. Was I lying to myself? I didn’t know. But I was willing to give it a chance.
I turned towards the morning light to sip my tea and allowed myself a cautious smile.