Psylocke Vol 2 Ch 17: The Approaching Finger

Tristan stared ahead at the enormous, moving mountain barreling toward him—a mountain filled with ridges and trenches so deep he could easily lose himself in them forever. Except this wasn't a mountain. It was Zuri's finger.

Her fingertip, with its faint swirls and grooves, seemed harmless enough at a distance, but as it moved closer, it carried the overwhelming weight of impending doom. It felt like staring down an apocalyptic force of nature. His heart pounded as the earth beneath him shook with every subtle movement she made.

Above him, Zuri's gigantic brown face hovered in the sky like a second sun, her grin so wide it could swallow entire buildings. She wasn't just excited—she was enjoying this. Her playful expression told him that she found this little exercise immensely entertaining.

"Come on, come on..." Tristan muttered to himself, taking a deep breath. He planted his feet firmly on the ground—or as firmly as he could on the quaking tabletop—and stretched out his hands. He focused, trying to feel the energy within him, the psychic force he'd spent months training to harness.

Through grueling sessions, he'd managed to lift grains of sand, nudge pencils, and give his body temporary bursts of strength. But stopping Zuri's finger, even at her slow pace? It felt impossible.

"Focus," he whispered, trying to block out the sound of Zuri's booming giggles above him and the rumbling ground beneath him. His knees wobbled from the constant vibrations, and it was taking everything in him just to stay upright.

The fingertip loomed closer, its size and presence suffocating. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the energy in his body falter. He couldn't hold on to it. He braced himself, ready to be crushed like a bug.

Then, nothing.

Cautiously, Tristan cracked one eye open. In front of him was a massive brown wall—Zuri's fingertip, now completely still. He stared at it in disbelief, only to hear Zuri burst into laughter above him.

"Did you seriously think I was gonna squish you?" she said, her booming voice carrying more than a hint of amusement. Her giggles grew louder, the sound like distant thunder, and Tristan winced as his ears throbbed slightly.

He glared up at her, still catching his breath. "This isn't funny," he muttered, his voice barely audible to himself, let alone Zuri. "There's no way I can stop even one of your body parts. You're just... too big."

Zuri leaned back, resting her chin in her palm as she smirked. "That's not how I've heard it," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Tristan's brows furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Zuri grinned wider. "Darcy says you've got a lot of potential. Like, a lot," she said, emphasizing the last word. "She thinks you might have more potential than anyone the United Military's seen in years. If that's true, you should totally be able to do this."

Tristan blinked, stunned. "Wait, what?" he said, the weight of her words sinking in.

Zuri nodded, her enthusiasm undeterred. "Yep. Darcy even said you might have as much potential as one of the King-ranked soldiers—the ones who can stop a Brob's foot for twenty seconds."

"Twenty seconds?" Tristan repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. The idea was unfathomable. That kind of strength was legendary, almost mythical.

Zuri leaned closer again, her eyes narrowing playfully. "You know, I could tell you the name of that soldier," she said.

Tristan's heart skipped a beat. "Really?"

Zuri nodded, but her smile turned sly. "But only if you can stop my finger," she teased, wiggling her fingertip slightly to emphasize the challenge.

Tristan groaned, slumping his shoulders. "Of course," he muttered. "Figures."

Zuri's grin didn't fade. If anything, it grew wider. "But first..." she began, her voice taking on a sing-song quality.

Tristan narrowed his eyes. "First, what?"

"It's time for some punishment!" she declared cheerfully, clapping her hands together. The sound echoed like a thunderclap, shaking the table slightly.

"Punishment?" Tristan repeated, dread creeping into his voice.

Zuri nodded enthusiastically, sitting up straight. "Yep! Every time you fail to complete a task, you have to do a punishment round. It's how we make training fun!"

"Fun for who?" Tristan asked, though he already knew the answer.

"For both of us, obviously!" Zuri said, grinning ear to ear. "Don't worry, though. It's not too bad."

Tristan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why do I feel like I'm not going to enjoy this?"

"Oh, come on!" Zuri said, her tone playful as she placed her finger back on the table. "It'll be great. Trust me."

Tristan looked up at her, his stomach sinking. He was starting to regret agreeing to this whole arrangement. But as he stared at Zuri's bright, eager expression, he realized there was no getting out of it.

"Okay," he muttered. "Let's just get this over with."

Zuri beamed, leaning in even closer. "That's the spirit!" she said cheerfully.

Tristan wasn't so sure about that.