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Psylocke Vol 2 Ch 38: A New Training Method, The Brob Named Zuri
🕑 Added 2025-08-03 22:41:36 +0000 UTCThe paper towel beneath me was soaked and nearly falling apart, but it was all I had. I sat on its soggy edge, trying to wring water out of
The paper towel beneath me was soaked and nearly falling apart, but it was all I had. I sat on its soggy edge, trying to wring water out of my shirt — not that it helped. My hair clung to my forehead, my clothes were plastered to my skin, and I felt like a drowned rat baking under the warm lights of some oversized vanity.
Behind me, I heard the soft whuff of a towel brushing skin — followed by the low, heavy boom of Kayla‘s footsteps as she walked across the vast bathroom. Each step vibrated up through the counter like a soft earthquake. I didn't need to look up to know she was approaching.
But of course I did anyway.
There she was.
Kayla, naked as the day she was born, easily miles and miles tall. Her form was a wall of smooth, white skin, framed by damp strands of short blue hair that cascaded down her face and clung to her collarbone. She stood just on the edge of the counter, her body towering over me like a living Titan that could destroy all thing in her path. I couldn't even see her face until she leaned in slightly close to the edge.
"Glad to see you're still in one piece," she said with a smirk, her voice a smooth rumble that vibrated through the counter like a speaker turned up too loud.
I stood up. Shakily. I was soaked, sore, and one very dumb move away from getting obliterated by a careless twitch of her toe. But I didn't care. I was angry. I took a step toward her — then another.
"What the hell is all this?" I shouted, my voice barely audible even to myself over the ambient hum of the bathroom fan. "How many of these damn tests am I supposed to go through?!"
Just speaking that loudly took effort. And with Kayla leaning in, every breath she exhaled hit me like a wave of warm wind. I had to plant my feet to keep from stumbling backward.
She casually flipped her head, drying her hair with one of those plush, white towels — the kind that could smother an entire Lilli village. "All of this," she said, "is so you can unlock your full potential."
I didn't even try to hide my glare. "This true psychic business?"
Kayla‘s expression shifted slightly — not mockery, not pity. Just... something calmer. She pulled back a bit, her features becoming easier to see without craning my neck all the way up. Her face was gorgeous, in that overwhelming way all the Psylocke women seemed to be. High cheekbones, sharp jaw, and eyes that held just enough amusement to irritate me.
"You may not think it's important," she said, gently setting the towel down on the counter beside me like a massive tarp. "But Psychic potential has been studied for decades. You're the closest any Lilli has come to breaking the ceiling we've hit. The UM isn't going to walk away from that."
I wanted to argue. I wanted to yell again. But I just stood there — soaked, shivering a little, my fists clenched at my sides.
"I didn't ask for this," I muttered. "None of this."
She looked at me for a long moment. Not cold. Not cruel. Just... quiet.
And then, with the softest sigh that still shook the air around me, she whispered, "I know."
Kayla‘s towel snapped around her in one fluid motion, like a curtain dropping over the skyline. Her body disappeared behind folds of thick white cotton, but somehow she still seemed just as towering. The thunder of her footsteps slowed as she stepped closer to the counter, and then—gently, deliberately—she extended one massive finger down toward me.
"Climb on," she said, her voice calm but expectant.
I hesitated. The tip of her finger hovered in front of me, like a fleshy ramp leading into the clouds. Just her fingernail alone looked like a polished shield, and the ridges of her fingerprint were deep enough to be footholds. I glanced up at her—her face a mile-high wall of patient amusement—and then sighed and reached out.
Her skin was warm and soft, but not slippery. There was a smoothness to it, but also a subtle resistance, like the surface of polished leather. I gripped the side of her finger and started climbing, using the ridges of her print like a built-in ladder. Each step was slow and deliberate—my soaked clothes made everything harder—but I kept going until I reached the curve of her nail and pulled myself onto it.
I stood on her thumbnail—just barely wider than a city block to me—and looked out over the world as she began to walk.
Kayla moved with a grace that no other Brob I'd encountered had. She was precise, almost elegant. Every step felt intentional, the tremors from her bare feet registering more like distant earthquakes than bone-rattling quakes. The walls of her bathroom gave way to a massive open bedroom. A breeze from somewhere above carried the scent of cedar and citrus, and the lighting dimmed into a soft golden hue.
When we reached her nightstand, Kayla slowly lowered her hand and let it rest against the surface. I didn't need to be told—I stepped off and stood there, the cool wood beneath my bare feet still trembling slightly from the lingering weight of her movement.
She crossed the room in two steps, settling down on the edge of a bed that might as well have been a mountain plateau. She crossed one long leg over the other and looked down at me, her arms folded, the towel pressed tight across her chest. The sheer scale of her was impossible to ignore. I felt like I was standing in front of a goddess, and she hadn't even done anything threatening yet.
Her voice rumbled through the air again. "I'm here to train you physically."
I blinked. "Physically?"
She nodded, eyes fixed on me. "Psychic powers aren't just about your mind, Tristan. They require a strong body to stabilize them. Otherwise, the energy overwhelms you. My focus is going to be on making you stronger. Leaner. More capable of holding it all together."
I didn't say anything right away. I just stood there, watching her, trying to piece it all together. The others had thrown me into obstacle courses, illusions, even near-death experiences. And now this one wanted me to do... push-ups?
Kayla softened a little as she continued. "I know you've had a rough time with training so far. No breaks. No time to recover. I get it."
She leaned back slightly, bracing herself with one arm behind her on the bed, and gave a small shrug. "So, we'll start training tomorrow. You'll have tonight to rest."
I exhaled slowly, a small piece of tension unspooling in my chest. Rest. That almost sounded foreign at this point.
Then Kayla tilted her head, her expression shifting ever so slightly—just enough to make me nervous.
"I can either give you a ride back to your little room," she said, her smile edging toward mischief, "or we could... have some fun together."
She rested her chin in her palm, her eyes glinting. "What do you say?"
I stared up at her. Miles of towering woman wrapped in a towel, looking at me like I was a question she already knew the answer to.
And all I could think was: what the hell have I gotten myself into?
