Chapter 70: The Utter Drain

By: Asa Montreaux

The situation was spiraling faster than anyone had anticipated. While Hugh and his friends were pushing the limits of their abilities, Crimson Dawn's attacks were ramping up. The news channels had caught wind of the disasters narrowly averted in a few cities, but the greater threat still loomed. Control centers were being hacked all over the world. Planes, one after another, were falling out of the sky, though most—thanks to the intervention of wizards like Hugh, Eliza, and the elder wizards—were being directed away from major cities. But they couldn't save them all.

Hugh stared at the newsfeed in the common room, his mind racing as the anchors reported on emergency landings, near-miss crashes, and cities thrown into panic. His knuckles were white from gripping the armrests of his chair, his breath shallow.

"I can't sit here and watch this anymore," Hugh muttered. He felt the weight of everything pressing down on him—the responsibility, the knowledge that their powers could turn the tide. But he needed something more. He knew that, deep down.

Eliza was sitting beside him, her face tense as she watched the footage of civilians fleeing in terror. She reached for his hand, her fingers warm and steady.

"We can't save everyone," she whispered, her voice tinged with fear. "But we can keep trying."

Hugh turned to look at her, seeing the determination in her eyes. They'd been through so much already, and yet, the battle felt like it was only just beginning. The attacks weren’t just a magical problem anymore—they were global. They had crossed the line between the hidden and the mundane.

“We can’t keep this up forever,” Sam added, pacing in front of the couch. “The elder wizards are stretched thin. If Crimson Dawn keeps hacking control centers like this, something’s going to give. We’re already seeing the cracks.”

“The magic we’ve been using,” Hugh said, his voice quiet, almost to himself, “the deeper magic—it’s our only chance. But we’re just scratching the surface. We need to be able to control more, do more.”

“How?” Mish asked. “We barely know what we’re doing now.”

“I don’t know, but we need to figure it out fast.”

Sam stopped pacing and stared at Hugh, his expression serious. “What if we’re not ready?”

“We don’t have a choice.”

The next few hours blurred as Hugh and his friends poured over every text they could find on advanced telekinesis, mind control, and creative magic. Their professors had given them guidelines, but they needed more than guidelines—they needed power, control, and speed. Time was running out.

As they practiced in secret, Hugh felt something shift inside him. It wasn’t just about learning spells or memorizing incantations anymore. He could feel the magic flowing through him differently now, responding to his thoughts, to his emotions. He began to understand that creative magic wasn’t about following the rules—it was about rewriting them.

Eliza was levitating a series of objects in the room, her concentration intense, when she suddenly dropped everything with a loud crash. “I’ve got it,” she said, breathless. “The key to this isn’t just power. It’s adaptability. We need to think beyond the spells we’ve been taught. We have to bend the magic to our will, not the other way around.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Mish said, though a spark of curiosity lit in her eyes. “But it also sounds like exactly what we need.”

Hugh nodded. “It’s what Crimson Dawn’s doing, I think. That’s how they’re hacking the guidance systems so easily. They’re breaking the rules.”

“Well, then we’ll break them too,” Sam said, his telepathic abilities flaring as he spoke. He was picking up on Hugh’s determination, feeding off it. 

Hugh’s mind was racing with ideas, plans, things that hadn’t seemed possible just days ago. But now… now, they had to be possible.

The next attack came faster than they’d expected. An alert from one of the elder wizards flashed across their phones as they were huddled in a classroom, practicing. 

Another wave of planes had been hijacked. The terrorists had managed to breach the control centers in ten major cities. The wizards who had been holding back the attacks were already overwhelmed, and it was clear that without help, the planes would crash into major landmarks.

Hugh felt his heart pounding in his chest as they ran through the halls, heading toward the control room where the elder wizards were coordinating the defense. His hands were shaking, but his mind was sharp. He had no idea if their plan would work, but they didn’t have a choice.

Inside the control room, the tension was thick. Wizards and witches were hunched over maps and communication panels, their faces pale and grim. The headmaster stood at the center, giving orders, but even he looked uncertain.

“We’re out of time,” he said as the students burst in. “We can’t hold them off much longer.”

“We’re here to help,” Hugh said, stepping forward. “We’ve been practicing. We can stop the planes—if you let us.”

The headmaster’s eyes narrowed. “You’re students. This is too dangerous.”

“Without us, there won’t be anything left,” Hugh argued. “We can do this.”

For a moment, it seemed like the headmaster would refuse. But then he nodded, his expression hard. “Very well. But you’re not on your own.”

Hugh, Eliza, Mish, and Sam linked hands, their minds focused on the task at hand. They could feel the planes in the air, like tiny blips on the radar of their combined magic. The creative magic was flowing through them more easily now, but it was still a struggle to maintain control.

Hugh’s telepathy expanded outward, reaching for the pilots of the hijacked planes. He could feel their panic, their fear, and he pushed past it, sending a wave of calm. “We’ve got you,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure if they could hear him.

Eliza’s magic lifted the planes, one by one, stabilizing them in midair. It was taking everything she had to keep them from falling, but she wasn’t alone. Mish was channeling her fire, keeping the engines from overheating, while Sam kept them connected, his telepathy linking them all together.

They were holding the planes, but just barely. The strain was immense, and Hugh could feel his mind slipping, his grip on the magic faltering.

“We’re not going to make it,” Mish gasped, sweat dripping down her face. “It’s too much.”

“We have to,” Hugh growled through clenched teeth. He pushed harder, reaching deeper into his magic than he ever had before. He could feel the creative magic surging through him, raw and untamed, but he had no choice. He had to control it.

With one final push, the planes began to rise again. Hugh could feel the hijacked systems breaking, the control slipping from the terrorists’ grasp. They were doing it.

The planes leveled out, and one by one, they landed safely, far away from the cities they’d been targeting.

When it was over, Hugh collapsed to the ground, utterly drained. The others were in a similar state, their energy spent. But they had done it. The attack had been stopped.

The headmaster approached them, his expression unreadable. “You saved countless lives today,” he said quietly. “But this war is far from over.”

Hugh nodded, still too exhausted to speak. But he knew, deep down, that they had just crossed a threshold. There was no turning back now.