# The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - chapter 8 - Council 8.5 Author: Red_moon Tags: Bildungsroman, Science Fiction, Wolf, psychic Imported from SF2 with no description. "Maybe next time…" I sat on the snow-covered platform, watching the variously sized black fragments slowly moving themselves into place. "...we don't need to tear the roof off?" I tried to joke, hoping to ease the tense atmosphere. My throat was still sore from the time I spent screaming earlier when Qana reset my dislocated shoulder.   Qana merely nodded, his gaze fixed on the training space, half of which had been blasted away.   Given the size of the commotion without drawing attention, I could only guess that Qana had set up a containment circle from the start. Seeing the surrounding terrain undamaged largely confirmed my suspicion.   So that wasn't even Qana's limit—he needed to expend the energy that could have blocked the final impact on maintaining the containment circle. What could an Alpha-level psychic achieve if they used their full strength?   No, I'm not talking about sinking a continent or crashing an asteroid into some place.   But rather… what could be done.   What could I do?   "Tomorrow, same time," Qana said, standing up.   "Yes, Master." I stood up as well, bowing to him with my ears lowered.   Qana left without a word.   I watched the swordmaster's retreating figure and faintly noticed some stiffness in his gait.   Perhaps it was just my imagination.   I turned back to look at the black fragments scattered across the ground, slowly moving around. One of the larger ones seemed to be struggling to climb a slope, stuck in a loop.   I walked over, grabbed it by both ends, and lifted it to the higher part of the platform.   Wow, it's heavier than I expected! Or maybe I'm just too weak?   I glanced at my arms, then shrugged.   I noticed that the fragments moved according to a certain pattern, following separate routes in different groups. The paths didn't cross, didn't alternate, and didn't interfere with each other.   Interesting.   I spent a good while observing the room as it slowly repaired itself, occasionally helping some of the larger pieces that got stuck. I then realized they never got lost, even if I placed the fragments off their original paths. They could always find the shortest way back to their route.   I need this ability.   So I kept studying it for a while longer until I couldn't stop yawning, and my eyelids grew heavy. Then I returned to my quarters.       The next few weeks followed the same routine. I ended up with plenty of bruises and soreness after each session, but Qana always stopped before causing any real damage.   I knew he was trying to conserve the nanodrone reserves.   Qana returned to his usual stern self, and we barely spoke. I could understand the unspoken anxiety and worry he didn't want to show, but… didn't he warn me? Be careful what you wish for.   Aether was still clearly unsure about some things, and our conversations were brief or deliberately focused on unrelated topics. But more often, silence filled our exchanges.   I must admit, the uneasy feeling from this unspoken pressure… it scares me a little. And I can't talk to anyone about it—not even Piqsirpoq, as I don't want to drag him into something worse.   So the moments when I can truly relax are when I'm in the concealed training space, completely shielded by adamantine.   Today, Qana left again without a word. I even managed to knock Winter Chill out of his hands, which shows just how distracted the swordmaster was.   But I… I don't know what to do.   He’s building a wall between us.   I know it’s some kind of precaution.   Shaking my head, I didn’t want to dwell on it. I believe this is just a phase, and the issues will eventually pass.   Removing the terminal from my arm, I set it to play Vivaldi's "Winter"—I recently discovered that the rhythm and melody help me better control the flow.   Expanding my consciousness, I enveloped the entire hidden room, commanding all the black fragments to float into the air.   Thousands… no… tens of thousands of fragments, all varying in size, rotated and drifted within my awareness, following the path of inertia.   As if I was holding the world in the palm of my paw.   Though it seemed like there were many different pieces of varying shapes and sizes, it was like assembling a puzzle—each was a part of a larger, grander picture. It was a bit like hive mind consciousness: one for all, all for one.   Thus, I could effortlessly control them with synchronized resonance, perfectly guiding them. Following the trembling rhythm and soaring melody, everything spiraled as if it had its own will.   Countless… delicate snowflakes.   In my domain, all the fragments gathered and dispersed according to their own rhythm, eventually converging into one. Every smallest piece knew its place, and every empty corner awaited its fragment.   A snowstorm in full dance.   Amid the stirring strings, I guided all the fragments back to their rightful places, and the room gradually restored itself. Finally, as the notes paused, I bowed alone under the only light source, feeling the echoes ripple through all possible dimensions. Source: https://sofurry.com/s/pnGd6gX1 Part of the series The Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters Previous: https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2172326-the-storm-wolf-tranquil-waters-chapter-8-council-8-4.md Next: https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2173447-the-storm-wolf-tranquil-waters-chapter-8-council-8-6.md