Mark paused at the edge of the courtyard, the midday sun shimmering off the academy’s gleaming arches. He leaned toward Ariel and asked quietly, “Any new students today? Or maybe late enrollments?”

Ariel flipped closed her notebook without looking up. “Yeah. Garth Kren. Max Red. Risa Alfres. And someone named Light.” She glanced at Mark, curious. “All children of villains.”

A faint tension rippled through him. He knew each name—Garth with quiet menace in his orange hair and eyes, Max’s simmering aggression, and Risa’s white hair and pink eyes. Light remained an unfamiliar wildcard. His mind drifted to Alfred’s warning: they'd sent only one spy. That detail made him even more alert.

Later, Ariel offered him a weekend invitation. “Wanna go watch a movie this Saturday?”

Mark shook his head gently. “Appreciate it, but I’ll pass.”

Alone in his dorm room that evening, Mark powered up his old laptop. Carefully hacking into the academy’s system, he reviewed the late-enrollment registry. There they were: the four names Ariel mentioned—confirming she hadn’t exaggerated. A chill ran down his spine when a new message appeared on his screen:

I know you hacked the school system.

His breath steadied. The spy, he thought. They've found me. Suppressing irritation, he forced his composure. Whoever’d sent it was testing him.

The following Monday, Garth and Max mingled in the hall. But everything sharpened when Risa entered the classroom. Even before she spoke, her familiar smirk made Mark’s heart skip. When she finally said "Hi, Mark" with a friendly tilt in her voice, Mark blinked in surprise. She'd come back.

He greeted her, trying casually to probe why she’d enrolled. He attempted to read her thoughts—but his mind hit a blank wall. No flicker of consciousness, no familiar patterns. Nothing.

Why can’t I read her mind? The question echoed in his thoughts. And when he tried again with Garth—still nothing. Max too. His mind-reading usually worked like a scanner for conscious thought, but here there was only silence.

Mark frowned. Maybe they’ve got psychic wards. Or mental shielding. In many telepath narratives, powerful minds can’t be breached due to strong mental discipline or built-in resistance . Yet these students were brand new. Either trained or naturally compatible with some anti-telepathic shield.

A few minutes before break, Risa brushed past him, conversation trailing in her wake. During the pause between classes, Mark tried again—he reached for her mind. But there was emptiness. Why futile?

Finally, he found her waiting outside. “You seem lost in thought,” she said, teasing but gentle.

He half-smiled. “Just thinking.”

“About?” She raised an eyebrow as she leaned against his doorframe.

He shook his head. “Nothing important.”

Risa studied him quietly. “If you ever want to talk… you know where to find me.”

When she finally left, Mark stared after her. They all read minds except them. Who taught them? Or is their power different?

He took a slow breath. Questions flooded in: Was the spy one of them? Was his mind-reading flawed?