Chapter 18: Uncharted Territory

The outskirts of the city concealed a sanctuary of steel and gunfire, a realm where my growing telepathic abilities could be put to the ultimate test. The gun case cradled the trio of pistols, a silent reminder of the power I held, the potential I wielded. As I entered the Shooting Haven, as it was aptly named, I was greeted by a well-built woman—Anna, the Range Officer. Her presence exuded confidence, her gaze meeting mine with a nod of acknowledgement.

Anna led me to an enclosed private shooting lane, a haven within the Haven—a place where I could push my abilities to the limit without prying eyes. The room was devoid of cameras, a place where secrets could be held—where actions could remain unseen. With a polite request, I ensured my privacy, alone with my thoughts and my growing mastery.

I unclasped the gun case, the hinges releasing with a soft sigh. The custom case, generously provided by the store, cradled the pistols with care, compartments for magazines and bullets waiting in readiness. It was designed for a purpose—to protect, to transport, and to become an extension of my journey.

I began with the basics—loading the bullets into the magazines. At first, my telepathic touch faltered, the unfamiliar shape and process proving to be a challenge. But as the seconds melted into minutes, I found my rhythm, my control strengthening with each cartridge. The metallic click of rounds sliding into place echoed with each successful load, a testament to my growing abilities.

Once the magazines were loaded, my telepathic grasp extended to the pistols themselves. One by one, they floated into the air, the weight and form becoming a natural extension of my will. But before I delved into the art of shooting, a thought struck me—a cautionary instinct. I willed the pistols back into their case, a protective measure before I ventured further.

The laser sights sat beside the pistols, ready to be installed. One by one, I attached them, aligning them with precision—a tool that would help me aim when controlling multiple pistols at once. With the gear in place, I took one pistol and headed to the adjacent shooting box. With telepathic finesse, I sent the pistol floating to the designated spot, a barrier separating us.

Safety measures in place, I equipped myself with ear protection and safety glasses. My pulse quickened, anticipation mingling with a subtle trepidation. I aimed the pistol, the laser casting a guiding line toward the target. It was a strategy to ensure accuracy—something that had become more challenging with multiple pistols under telepathic control.

With the laser aligned, I took a deep breath, steadying myself for what lay ahead. I released the safety, the gunshot muffled by the ear protection but still reverberating through my senses. The recoil was absent, but in its place came a different sensation—an unexpected jolt that rippled through my mind. It was akin to being hit by a cushioned blow, a force that momentarily disoriented me.

Time stood still as I regained my bearings, my grip on reality reaffirming itself. But as I looked toward the adjacent shooting box, I found an unexpected void—the pistol was not where it should be. Confusion and concern surged within me, my senses heightened as I scanned the room.

And then, at the back of the room, I saw it—the pistol had been knocked far off its intended trajectory by the force of the shot. The recoil, a potent force that had disrupted my telepathic connection, had also propelled the pistol beyond its initial position. The target stood unmarked, the bullet's path astray.

In that moment, the room was heavy with realization. I had entered uncharted territory, the connection between telepathy and physical force revealing its intricacies. The journey was far from over, the nuances of telepathic control now a battleground of exploration, a testament to the delicate balance of power and restraint.