The Students Who Started A Galactic War

The Mind’s Door

ELIAN’S POV

The lock mechanism stopped spinning. Silence. Then a hiss—sharp, metallic. Blue light appeared at the top hinge. A cutting torch.

Sparks rained down. The smell of burning metal filled the cell.

"Move," Tavian said. He grabbed the cot nearest the door and shoved it against the wall. Zali stumbled back, cradling her arm. Rio pressed himself into the corner.

The torch cut through the first hinge. Metal peeled away, glowing orange. The door sagged slightly.

I stared at the mechanism. The bolt. The magnetic seal. The hydraulic pistons holding the door in the frame.

"Elian." Tavian's voice was sharp. "Help me."

I didn't move. A barricade wouldn't work. They had torches. Battering rams. Time.

The second hinge began to glow.

I closed my eyes.

The cell disappeared. The sound of the torch faded. I stood in darkness. No walls. No floor. Just void.

"Elian Voss."

The voice came from everywhere. Low. Resonant. Ancient.

Light bloomed ahead. A figure took shape—tall, humanoid, skin like polished obsidian. Eyes that glowed faint blue. Robes that moved in a wind I couldn't feel.

Sahrin. The Zorathian.

"You failed today," Sahrin said.

"I know."

"Do you know why?"

My jaw tightened. "I wasn't strong enough."

"You were strong enough. You used strength. That was the error."

The void shifted. The steel block from the training hall materialized between us. Two hundred pounds. Inert.

"You tried to push it," Sahrin said. "Telekinesis is not force applied. It is connection made."

"I don't understand."

Sahrin raised one hand. The block lifted. Smooth. Silent. No tremor. No strain. "To move a thing, you must first hold it. Feel its weight. Its shape. Its place in the world." The block rotated slowly. "You must become the hand that grips it."

"I tried—"

"You attacked it. You tried to crush it into submission." Sahrin lowered the block. It settled on the ground without sound. "Feel the door, Elian. Not the metal. The mechanism. The latch. The bolt. Hold it closed."

The cutting torch. The soldiers. The battering ram.

"I need more than a lesson," I said. "I need power."

"Power without conditioning will break you."

"How much?"

"Cerebral hemorrhage. Burst capillaries. Stroke, possibly."

My hands curled into fists. "Will it stop them?"

"For a time."

"Then give it to me."

Sahrin's eyes dimmed. "You accept the cost."

"Yes."

Light exploded.

I gasped. My eyes snapped open. I was on my knees in the cell. Blood dripped from my nose onto the floor. My head pounded—sharp, rhythmic, like something was trying to c***k my skull from the inside.

The second hinge fell away. The door tilted, held only by the bottom hinge and the bolt.

Boots thundered in the corridor. Metal clanged. Voices barked orders.

I pushed myself to my feet. My legs shook. I raised my hand toward the door.

The bolt. I felt it. Cold steel. Magnetic pull. The pistons engaged, holding it in place.

I gripped it.

A hydraulic ram slammed into the door. The impact reverberated through the cell. The door held.

My head exploded with pain. A vein burst in my forehead. Blood ran into my left eye. I wiped it away with my sleeve, hand still raised.

Another impact. The ram hit again. The door shuddered. The bolt didn't move.

"What the hell?" A soldier's voice, muffled through the metal. "It's still locked."

"Impossible. The hinges are gone."

"Then cut the bolt."

I felt the torch move. Heat seared through my mind. I tightened my grip. The bolt stayed.

My knees buckled. I caught myself on the edge of a cot. My vision blurred. Blood poured from my nose, warm and slick.

Tavian grabbed my shoulder. "Elian—"

"Vent." The word came out strangled. "Ceiling. Now."

Tavian looked up. The vent grate was bolted into the ceiling above Lumi's cot. Standard ventilation. Six bolts.

He climbed onto the cot. Reached up. Grabbed the grate with both hands. His shoulders tensed. Metal shrieked. The bolts ripped free. The grate came away in his hands, edges jagged.

The ram hit again. The door cracked down the center. The bolt held.

"Go," I said.

Lumi climbed onto the cot. Tavian lifted her. She grabbed the edges of the vent and pulled herself inside. Zali went next, moving awkwardly with one arm. Rio followed, scrambling up with Tavian's help.

The torch cut deeper. I felt it—searing, invasive. My grip slipped. I forced my hand steady. Blood ran from my ear now, hot against my neck.

Tavian climbed into the vent. He looked down at me. "Elian."

"I'm coming."

The ram struck. The door split further. I held the bolt. My legs gave out. I collapsed onto the cot.

"Elian!"

I couldn't answer. My hand was still raised. The bolt was still locked.

The torch cut through. I felt the metal separate. The bolt began to slide.

I let go.

The door exploded inward. Soldiers poured through—black armor, helmets, rifles raised. The Eraser Unit.

"Down! On the ground!"

They swept the room. Checked the corners. Under the cots. Behind the broken door.

Empty.

One soldier looked up. The vent cover swung loose above them, edges bent, bolts scattered across the floor.

"Command, we have a breach. Prisoners are in the ventilation system."

Static crackled. A voice responded, cold and clipped. "Seal all exits. Deploy tracking units. Find them."

The soldiers moved out. Boots hammered down the corridor.

I crawled through the vent. My arms shook. Blood dripped onto the metal beneath me, slick and dark. Ahead, Tavian reached back and grabbed my wrist. He pulled.

The vent stretched into darkness.