Chapter 22 Breaking Points

Blake Rivers - POV

The vial feels warm in my palm as I approach Emma's energy sphere, the concentrated sedative that will end both her suffering and Cole's. We've already made the decision—all three of us agreed that mercy sometimes requires the ultimate sacrifice. Ryan has his medical approach ready, Kai his artistic method, and I have my psychological precision.

But watching Emma convulse with each wave of shared omniscience, fragments of infinite knowledge bleeding through our bond network and burning against my mental defenses like acid, I realize there might be another way.

"Are you ready?" Ryan asks quietly, his own hands steady around a syringe filled with enough neural suppressant to shut down consciousness permanently. His medical training has already calculated the exact psychic dosage needed.

Kai nods from his position near the energy sphere, his art supplies transformed into implements that smell like laboratories and desperation. "The colors show it's the kindest option," he says, but his voice carries the hollow tone of artistic defeat.

The plan is precise—three simultaneous interventions delivered through our psychic bonds rather than physical contact. Clean, efficient, merciful. We've already experienced enough fragments of Emma's omniscience to know that her suffering is beyond human endurance, and Cole's trapped with her in that infinite nightmare.

But as I prepare to administer the sedative through our connection, fragments of her enhanced awareness hit me again. This time, instead of the usual chaotic flood of trauma, I catch something different—glimpses of every possible way to absorb psychological pain, every technique across unlimited realities for transferring emotional burdens from one mind to another.

My psychological training has always included the ability to temporarily take on patients' trauma, spreading it across my own mental defenses until they could heal. I've done it hundreds of times with conventional therapy. But what if I could do it with supernatural trauma too?

"Wait," I say, lowering the vial. "There's another option."

Ryan's clinical precision wavers. "Blake, we agreed. Prolonging this helps no one."

"What if we don't have to end it?" I ask, already reaching out through our psychic bond toward Emma's pain. "What if we can redistribute it instead?"

Kai's synesthesia shows my emotional state in colors that make him recoil. "That's not redistribution, Blake. That's sacrifice."

But I'm already opening my psychological defenses, using techniques I've perfected over years of therapy work to create space in my mind for Emma's suffering. The difference is that this time, I'm not dealing with normal human trauma—I'm trying to absorb omniscient knowledge of every possible hurt across infinite realities.

The moment my mental barriers drop, the flood hits me like a dam bursting.

Every heart I've ever broken multiplies across unlimited variations where my psychological techniques cause harm instead of healing. Every manipulation I've used for good becomes weaponized in realities where trust transforms into the cruelest weapon. The knowledge burns through my consciousness like molten metal, and I realize I've made a catastrophic mistake.

I don't just scream—the sound carries psychic weight that resonates through our entire bond network like a tuning fork struck against reality itself. But worse than my own agony is what happens next.

Instead of absorbing Emma's pain, I've amplified it.

The energy sphere around Emma and Cole flares bright enough to burn afterimages into our vision. Our already strained connection becomes a conduit for trauma that was never meant to exist in human consciousness, but now it's being broadcast with the strength of five linked minds.

"Blake, what did you do?" Ryan demands, but I can't answer because I'm experiencing every version of this moment across unlimited realities—most of them ending in our destruction.

Through the windows, I watch students across campus suddenly stop mid-stride, clutching their heads as the amplified omniscience leaks through whatever minimal psychic abilities they possess. A girl near the library falls to her knees, blood streaming from her nose. Two students by the fountain collapse simultaneously, both convulsing as fragments of infinite knowledge overload their unprepared minds.

"The feedback is spreading beyond our network," Ryan reports, his voice tight with controlled panic. "Anyone with latent abilities within... God, it's hitting the entire campus."

Kai stumbles to the window, abandoning his prepared implements. "Everyone's getting pieces of what Emma knows. The whole university is being hit with psychic overflow."

Through the trauma burning in my mind, I notice campus security officers speaking urgently into radios. Black vehicles with government plates race through Blackwood's gates with the kind of speed that means someone detected a mass supernatural event.

My family's connections to psychological operations provide recognition even through the infinite pain: federal response teams, specialized in supernatural containment.

"They monitor for exactly this kind of psychic signature," I manage to say, watching tactical units position around campus perimeters. "Mass supernatural manifestation triggers automatic response protocols."

Ryan's equipment shows readings from across campus—every student with even minor psychic sensitivity is exhibiting dangerous neural spikes. Our carefully hidden supernatural program has just become visible to anyone with the right scanning equipment.

Emma's sphere pulses again, and this time the wave is strong enough to shatter windows across multiple buildings. Students throughout campus collapse as concentrated bursts of omniscient knowledge hit them—some laughing hysterically as they glimpse infinite joy, others screaming as they experience every possible trauma simultaneously.

"They're classifying this as a supernatural terrorism event," I realize, my psychological training interpreting the tactical formations through Emma's enhanced awareness. "Full elimination protocol if they can't establish immediate containment."

Cole's voice reaches us through his bond with Emma, distorted by shared omniscience but desperately clear: "Blake, your intervention made it exponentially worse. Now you have to choose—try to save Emma or try to save everyone else, because the amplification means you can't do both."

Through the infinite psychological knowledge burning through my consciousness, I see the impossible decision with terrible clarity.

If I keep trying to absorb Emma's pain, the psychic amplification will continue spreading until every person within miles experiences fragments of omniscient trauma. The government response will escalate from containment to area sterilization—they'll eliminate Blackwood entirely rather than risk supernatural contamination spreading further.

But if I stop my intervention, Emma and Cole return to their original level of suffering while tactical teams close in with orders to neutralize all uncontrolled psychic threats.

Heavy boots echo in our hallway. Ryan's medical equipment detects electromagnetic interference that means military-grade neural disruptors.

"Suppression technology designed to shut down all psychic activity in the target zone," Ryan reports with clinical detachment that barely masks his terror.

I feel our bond network wavering as the suppression field activates. Emma's omniscience flickers, but instead of providing relief, the artificial dampening creates feedback that transforms her original trauma into something even worse.

The door explodes inward as tactical officers in full combat gear storm inside, weapons raised and sensors sweeping for psychic signatures.

"All subjects remain motionless," the lead officer commands. "Any manifestation of supernatural abilities will result in immediate termination."

Emma's energy sphere pulses one final time, and through our flickering connection I feel the exact moment when her omniscience shows her every possible outcome of this confrontation.

Her scream shatters the soldiers' suppression equipment and sends them staggering backward, blood streaming from their ears.

In the ringing silence that follows, I realize my attempt at mercy has transformed our private tragedy into a war that will consume everyone we've ever tried to protect.