Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 192: Trial run

Mona giggles, her laughter light and infectious as I tickle her stomach. These father-daughter moments are precious to me, a reprieve from the chaos of life. But even now, as I soak in the joy of her happiness, I find myself missing my husband. It’s ridiculous, really—it’s only been a few hours since I last saw him.

"Mr. Husband," a familiar voice chirps, breaking through my thoughts. I look up to find Mona standing before me, her twin brother Rhett lingering just behind her, looking sheepish. Mona grins mischievously, the spitting image of her other father in her more devious moments.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" I ask, leaning back into the garden chair. Mimi is nestled comfortably in my lap, her tiny hands clutching at my shirt as she dozes.

"I’m here to cash in my payment for babysitting," Mona declares with all the confidence of a seasoned negotiator.

"And what’s the cost?" I inquire, already suspecting I won’t like the answer.

"Him," she replies, shoving Rhett forward a little too enthusiastically.

"Mona..." I start, my tone a warning, but she cuts me off with a pointed look.

"Nope. You promised," she counters, her hands on her hips as she stares me down. For a minute, we’re locked in a silent battle of wills, her determined gaze meeting mine without a hint of wavering. It’s both impressive and infuriating, and I realize I’ve already lost.

I sigh, defeated. "Fine."

"Great!" she chirps, her victory evident in the bounce of her step as she skips away, leaving poor Rhett standing there awkwardly.

For a few seconds, neither of us speaks. He shifts uncomfortably, glancing down at the ground and then back up at me, clearly unsure of what to do next.

"There’s enough space here," I say finally, patting the empty spot on the bench next to me. "Take a seat."

Rhett moves quickly, sitting down as though afraid I might change my mind. He’s silent again, fidgeting with his hands. I don’t say a word either, letting the quiet settle between us.

The garden around us hums with life—the rustling of leaves, the faint chirp of birds, and the distant sound of Mona’s laughter as she undoubtedly gets herself into some new kind of trouble. Beside me, Rhett is still, as though unsure how to fit into this moment.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s a good kid, quieter than his sister but with the same stubborn streak when it counts. There’s something endearing about the way he’s trying so hard not to intrude, even when he’s been all but shoved into this situation.

"Relax," I say after a while, my voice breaking the stillness. "You’re not on trial here."

After a long pause, as I absentmindedly play with Mimi, twisting one of her soft curls around my finger, Rhett finally speaks up.

"I have telekinetic abilities," he says, his voice quiet but steady. That’s...unexpected.

I glance at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"For a long time, I felt out of place," he continues, fiddling with his sleeve. "Callan has ice abilities, like Dad. Rhia has water abilities. And me? Well, I’m just...different." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

I hum thoughtfully, but my mind is already wandering. What are the odds that Duke Remiro’s entire bloodline possesses supernatural abilities? Rare as they are, they seem almost commonplace in this family. And then there’s Celia—her past is still a mystery to me in so many ways. Could she have descended from some fallen noble line with abilities? The thought is intriguing, especially considering I’ve got telekinetic powers myself.

"-And then I met you," Rhett continues, pulling my attention back to the present. "You’re so much like me with your abilities and all."

I blink, realizing I’ve missed half of what he said. Not great, Thorne. Not great at all.

I’m not sure how to respond. Conversations like this aren’t exactly my forte. Honestly, Noelle would probably handle this better, though I can’t imagine my husband managing much more than his usual gruff grumbles of encouragement.

"I can’t control it very well," Rhett admits, his voice dipping lower, as though confessing something shameful.

I want to tell him I’m not the right person for this. No one taught me how to use my abilities—I just stumbled through it, figuring things out as I went. The idea of teaching someone else seems laughable. But just as I’m about to open my mouth and turn him down, a thought strikes me.

Mimi.

She might inherit telekinetic abilities, too. If she does, I’ll need to know how to guide her. And what better way to learn than by testing my methods on Rhett? A trial run, so to speak.

I let out a slow breath, shifting my focus back to the boy sitting beside me. "Alright," I say finally, my tone firm but not unkind.

His eyes light up at my acceptance, a glimmer of hope and excitement breaking through his awkward exterior. For a moment, I feel a twinge of guilt tugging at me. He thinks this is about him—about helping him find control and purpose.

How unfortunate.

The truth is far less noble. I’m merely using him as a testing subject, a means to an end.

"Let’s see what you can do," I say, leaning back slightly, curious but cautious.

Rhett nods, his face serious, and turns his attention to a nearby stone. For a few long moments, nothing happens. He narrows his eyes, his brow furrowing as he focuses harder, the tension palpable.

Then, without warning, the stone shoots toward us at the speed of a racing horse.

"Duck!" I shout, grabbing Rhett and pulling him down just in time. The stone hurtles past, whistling through the air, and crashes into a tree behind us with a resounding thud. It lodges itself deep in the trunk, splintering bark and leaving a jagged hole.

Mimi giggles, clapping her tiny hands, clearly entertained. To her, this is just another game, her laughter ringing out like a bell in the aftermath of the chaos.

"Sorry," Rhett mutters, looking sheepish as he brushes dirt off his pants.

I straighten up, glancing back at the embedded stone, then at him. "Yeah, don’t do that," I say firmly, fixing him with a sharp look. "Unsupervised. Alone. Ever."

He nods quickly, his face flushed with embarrassment.