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metal being withdrawn from his right
pocket.
    My
initial thought was to shout 'knife' and alert everyone to the
danger, but there were too many innocent people around. The last
thing I wanted was to cause a hostage situation. I thought maybe I
could use my ability on him, and make him so afraid he wouldn't go
through with whatever he was planning. But then I couldn't be sure
how he'd react, so I improvised. I tapped him on the shoulder. He
spun around, and I threw my drink in his face. His hands went up to
cover his eyes, but it was too late. He let out a low, guttural
scream as the hot coffee hit. The knife was in plain sight now.
People around us gasped and backed away from him as he rubbed at
his face.
    "You
bastard," he yelled. His skin glowed a deep red, matching the
bloodshot whites of his eyes. He swung the knife at me, missing by
some margin. There was a scream from the crowd, and for a split
second my attention was elsewhere. It was enough for Baldie to grab
hold of my jacket with one hand, the other raised to strike again.
Time appeared to slow as the knife came down.
    Without
warning, Baldie gave a sudden yelp and dropped the knife to the
floor. He let go of me, and clutched his right hand, blood
beginning to drip through his fingers. The knife clattered against
the tiled floor, before coming to rest. Its hilt was coated in a
thick layer of icy spikes, their tips coated red. I took the
opportunity to push myself away from him.
    The crowd
backed further away, leaving the two of us in the centre of the
ever-expanding clearing. Ash was at one edge, walking towards us
with a satisfied smirk on his face. Sometimes, I cursed my lack of
a physical ability and small size. This was one of those
times.
    Baldie
set his sights on Ash, who stood there, confident, as the large
brute strode over to him, still clutching his bleeding hand. A loud
bang came out of nowhere, eliciting more than a few shrieks from
the onlookers. Baldie fell to the ground, his knee giving way in an
eruption of blood.
    General
Marsten walked over to the collapsed heap on the floor, his gum
aimed directly at him. He looked over at myself and Ash. "You two
are not to go anywhere." Pointing at one of the other graduates, he
said, "You there, report this to the infirmary. I want some medics
and a stretcher here ASAP to sedate this man and take him in. And
bring a mop back with you." The young man saluted and pushed his
way through the crowd.
    The
General raised his voice to speak to the whole room. "I apologise
for the inconvenience, but I need this area vacated. If you could
all please head through the double doors at the back of the room,
and we will relocate to the library. I would also advise that
no-one leaves until we are sure of what happened here."
    Everyone
began to filter out through the doors. Principal Wilkes was one of
the few who remained. "Get a team together," the General told him.
"Have them find any witnesses and question them." Wilkes nodded,
and hobbled to catch up with the crowd.
    Two
medics rushed through the side door not long after, carrying a
stretcher between them, followed by the mop-wielding graduate.
Baldie writhed in agony on the floor as they tried to sedate him.
It took one of them to hold down his arm, while the other injected
him.
    "He
should have been here," he grumbled as he drifted off. The medics
managed to roll him onto the stretcher.
    "I want
him cuffed to a bed and kept sedated until I say otherwise.
Understood?"
    "Yes
Sir," they replied, and Baldie was carried off. That left the
unfortunate graduate to clean up the mess his knee had
made.
    The
General finally looked back at us. To say he looked pissed was an
understatement. "Both of you in my office. Now!"
    We walked
in silence, out of the lobby and up to the third floor, with
General Marsten trailing behind us. His office was the third on the
left. Ash went inside first, while I waited outside. From the other
side of the door, I could hear their voices, but not what