Embedded Files
745_Choosing Between Soul Evolution and Energy Manipulation
745_Choosing Between Soul Evolution and Energy Manipulation
Chapter 1: Evan, Diesel, Abby, and Rev Discuss the Mechanics of the Universe
Chapter 1: Evan, Diesel, Abby, and Rev Discuss the Mechanics of the Universe
In the quiet corner of the library, Evan, Diesel, Abby, and Rev discuss the mechanics of the universe as though Earth is an ongoing contest for energy and prizes. After school, the Crystic Mystic Club claims the far corner of the library.
The fluorescent lights hum like tired bees.
Dust floats in sunbeams from high windows.
Posters on the walls talk about college, careers, and test scores.
At the back table, four teens talk about everything else.
Evan wraps his hands around a chipped mug of vending‑machine cocoa, eyes half closed like he’s listening to something no one else can hear.
Diesel slouches across from him in a hoodie that still smells like vape clouds and cafeteria fries.
Abby taps a pen against a spiral notebook decorated with glitter crosses and gold stickers.
Rev leans back in his chair, earbuds dangling, gaze unfocused—as if he’s watching the whole room and also nothing at all.
These are Crystic students: teenagers who stumble through normal classes by day and try to decode the hidden mechanics of the universe by late afternoon.
Evan breaks the silence first.
“Pretend,” he says, “there’s an ongoing contest on Earth.
“Like an endless battle game.
“Everyone competes for personal prizes—and forms teams to win group prizes.
“Prizes can be anything people want: money, pleasure, fame, ownership, control.”
The idea hangs in the quiet air between the shelves.
Rev’s eyes narrow.
“What are the rules?” he asks.
Evan stares past them, through the window at gray clouds streaked with late sunlight. His mind runs through things no one names out loud: how kids compare followers like cash, how some teachers cling to certain students and look straight through others.
“There are universal rules,” Evan says slowly, “but a lot of people rebel and claim their own.
“That doesn’t actually change the cosmic rules.
“So…”
His gaze sharpens as he looks back at them.
“What would each of your teams look like?”
Diesel grins.
He’s been waiting for that question.
Chapter 2: Diesel Explains Borrowing Misqualified Energy for Sensational Pleasure
Chapter 2: Diesel Explains Borrowing Misqualified Energy for Sensational Pleasure
Diesel explains his strategy of borrowing misqualified energy for sensational pleasure, ignoring karmic debts and embracing rebellious instincts. Diesel drums his fingers on the table, energy sparking off him in quick, impatient beats.
“My team,” he says, “is called the Dissolvers.
“We compete for sensational pleasure prizes.
“Losers get punished with pain.”
He watches Evan, testing how far he can push.
“We’re free to lie, cheat, steal,” Diesel continues, “hoping to win—or at least delay punishment until after our bodies die.
“As Rebels, we’re guided by instincts and triggered electro‑chemical emotions.
“We prefer to borrow misqualified energy instead of earning new virtuous energy through wise investments.”
Evan sees more than words.
He sees Diesel’s late‑night dares, half‑joked suicidal comments, the way he laughs off consequences and bets he won’t make it past twenty‑five.
Around Diesel, Evan’s inner sight flickers: bright neon streaks of energy—chaotic, hungry, latching onto anything that glows.
“We live day to day,” Diesel says. “Always in debt.
“We strategize to increase our debt limit so we can borrow more.
“We are not interested in paying the karmic debts from our past misuse of energy.”
Rev frowns.
“Then who pays the price?” he asks.
Diesel shrugs, hoodie rustling.
“No one,” he says. “Getting away without penalties just encourages Dissolvers to indulge more.
“We plan to avoid getting caught and punished.
“If things get too bad, there’s always the emergency escape—”
He hesitates.
“Suicide,” he finishes, forcing a joking tone that doesn’t quite land.
“Our selfish human desires tell us: use any means to beg, borrow, steal power.
“Rules are meant to be broken.
“Other humans can be willing or unwilling partners.
“Those who aren’t partners are… disposable competition.”
A cold current slides through Evan’s chest at the word “suicide.”
He knows kids in school who laugh about it like it’s just another meme.
He takes a slow breath.
In his inner vision, Diesel’s energy swirls—thick smoky reds, electric oranges, flaring then collapsing.
“To summarize,” Evan says quietly, “Dissolvers act more like animals than human souls.
“Rebels aren’t interested in developing cosmic wisdom, divine virtues, or mystic powers.”
Diesel’s jaw flexes.
It sounds like an insult.
His eyes say he hears it as a challenge.
Chapter 3: Abby Describes Blindly Believing a Leader Won the Prizes
Chapter 3: Abby Describes Blindly Believing a Leader Won the Prizes
Abby describes her team's strategy of blindly believing a leader won the prizes for them, expecting forgiveness without needing to evolve. Abby snaps her notebook shut.
Her energy brightens around her like stained glass—hard, sharp edges of red and gold.
“You guys really need to think about switching to my team of Believers,” she says.
“My team is the only valid team.
“All the others are doomed to fail.”
She speaks like she’s quoting a script she’s memorized since childhood.
“Those who don’t immediately convert to the Absolvers’ strategy,” Abby says, “are cast out of the competition forever.
“No more chances to win prizes.”
Rev raises an eyebrow.
Abby pushes on.
“All my team members automatically receive the prizes,” she says, “as long as we believe our team captain has already won them for us.
“Our leader is like a grown adult competing with kindergartners.
“He wins every time.
“He breaks all the school records.
“Anyone who doesn’t accept him loses and gets all the penalties instead.”
Rev snorts.
“That’s a rigged, unfair competition,” he says. “Like letting a guy play on the girls’ team. They’d lose so often they’d stop playing.
“I haven’t seen any rule that allows one supreme being to win all the prizes for his fan club.”
Abby’s fingers dig into her pen.
“We only read one rulebook,” she says. “Our captain wrote it. If we read other books, He can kick us off the team.”
Evan tilts his head.
“Then how are you supposed to learn all the rules?” he asks.
Inside, he wonders what it’s like to be that afraid of curiosity.
Abby lifts her chin.
“Believers use three strategies,” she says, counting them off:
“First, we blindly believe that our leader has already won all the trophies.
“Second, we keep our self‑centered, emotional, dictatorial leader happy and never make Him angry.
“Third, we have complete faith that He is all‑merciful and will forgive us the moment we say, ‘I’m sorry.’”
Evan nods slowly.
“None of those tactics,” he says, “help you compete and actually grow.”
Abby stiffens.
“So what?” she snaps. “We’re not trying to compete.
“We believe our Savior already won everything for us.”
She hesitates, then adds in a softer tone that still feels like a threat:
“If you don’t transfer to my team, you’ll lose every competition and be tortured forever as a penalty.
“Join now and get a signup bonus: a free eternal pass to a post‑competition paradise.”
The words land heavily.
Diesel looks away.
Rev’s gaze goes distant.
Evan feels a flash of sadness for Abby—the raw fear hiding under all that certainty.
Chapter 4: Rev Strives to Become Nothing and Empty His Mind
Chapter 4: Rev Strives to Become Nothing and Empty His Mind
Rev explains how his team strives to become nothing and empty his mind, avoiding the pressure of gaining good karma or facing consequences. The clock above the circulation desk ticks louder than it should.
Somewhere, a printer spits out more worksheets no one wants.
Rev laces his fingers behind his head.
“Revolvers,” he says, “compete for wealth and fame in this lifetime—and good karma for the next.
“Losers suffer from negative karma in both current and future lives.”
He pauses, searching.
“Some Revolvers pretend the contest restarts with each new body,” he continues. “Past performance doesn’t matter. Every life is a fresh game, with no preset bonuses or penalties.
“We reserve the right to ignore any rules we disagree with.”
Evan leans forward, elbows on the table.
“That’s counterproductive,” he says. “It erases your motivation to succeed.
“You would lose all penalties and prizes from previous lives.
“Imagine if, after every football season, the entire team forgot how to play. All their moves are gone. All the practice was erased.
“Yeah, their weaknesses would vanish—but losing their skills would be heartbreaking.
“The cosmos can’t just wipe misused energy. That breaks the law of free will.
“Everyone wants their bad karma gone, but no one wants to lose their wins.”
Rev nods, but his face stays stubborn.
“Revolvers expect to return for more lifetimes,” he says, “but we’re not obsessed with stacking prizes and penalties.
“We compete to experience new sensations.
“We strive to empty ourselves and become nothing.
“No goals.
“No feelings.
“No desires.
“Just… stillness.
“Until we become a non‑reactive stone pillar.”
Abby stares.
“What’s wrong with having a mind full of goals?”
Rev answers, voice smooth and distant.
“Focusing on the finish line pulls you out of the present,” he says. “Each step in life is a meditation.
“Experiencing the full intensity of now matters more than ending up somewhere specific.”
Evan lets that land, then says:
“To summarize: ignorance of everything isolates Revolvers in nowhere land.
“You deny yourself motivation because pressure is uncomfortable.
“Mind beings aren’t interested in competing because failing hurts.”
Rev doesn’t argue.
He stares at the ceiling like he’s already halfway gone.
Chapter 5: Rev Uses Chemical Reactions to Hide from Dark Spirits
Chapter 5: Rev Uses Chemical Reactions to Hide from Dark Spirits
Rev claims that shedding attachments and using chemical reactions makes one invisible, hiding them from dark spirits like an unlit candle. The library grows quieter.
Outside, the sky bruises toward evening.
“Mind Beings,” Rev continues, “dump their thoughts and attachments to get to emptiness.
“Shedding addictions and desires frees us from emotional impulses and physical cravings.
“As our sense of ‘me’ shrinks, we become invisible to enemies who can only see corruption and darkness.
“It’s safe to be an unlit candle in a forest of bugs.”
Evan pictures it.
A dark forest.
Swarms of hungry shapes hunting for light.
An unlit candle is invisible to them.
Safe.
And totally useless.
“Artists, inventors, creative beings,” Evan says, “are full of wisdom, virtuous energy, mystic power.
“They’re like candles that keep growing brighter.
“Warriors have to be full of fire to fight for prizes like freedom, justice, peace.”
Diesel snorts.
“You really went hardcore,” he says. “I’m out here competing for cheap thrills, and you want world domination.”
Rev isn’t done.
“The sensations we feel,” he says, “come from chemical reactions.
“Elements combine, break apart, mess with thoughts and feelings.
“Drugs can help Revolvers break down inner walls.
“On the other side of those walls? New experiences.
“As long as we’re invisible, we can walk into enemy territory without being seen as a food source for dark spirits.
“An empty shell—no thoughts, no feelings—is no threat and no prize.”
Evan imagines party scenes: pills dissolving on tongues, smoke curling in lungs, music pounding.
Energy fields fuzz and blur as people chemically erase their edges.
He wonders how much of your soul you can hollow out before there’s nothing left to bring back.
Chapter 6: Evan Explains Earning Virtuous Energy and Graduating Soul School
Chapter 6: Evan Explains Earning Virtuous Energy and Graduating Soul School
Evan explains earning virtuous energy and developing mystic powers as the true path toward graduating soul school, instead of taking shortcuts. Evan exhales, then lets his own vision rise.
“Evolvers,” he says, “compete for prizes that increase the soul’s wisdom, virtue, and spirit powers.
“We play by the higher rules.
“We know cheats and shortcuts cost us prizes later.
“We’re not just gaming the system.
“We’re training for graduation.”
He remembers every time he was tempted to cut a corner: copying homework, ghosting a friend instead of having a hard conversation, joining in when someone got roasted.
Shortcuts that felt like wins and left scars.
“Soul students work toward the grand prize of graduating from Soul School,” Evan says. “Wisdom refines our strategy.
“Virtuous energy fuels our superpowers.
“We’re motivated by divine inspiration, not just selfishness.”
Abby crosses her arms.
“Why don’t you believe someone has already won all your prizes for you?” she asks. “He’s holding them until you join His team.
“You might as well get them free.
“If you don’t accept Him as Savior, your trophies get thrown away.”
Evan shakes his head.
“I want more than a participation trophy,” he says.
“I want the nine spirit powers:
• Wisdom
• Knowledge
• Faith
• Healing
• Working of miracles
• Prophecy
• Discernment
• Divine communication
• Divine understanding
“My soul doesn’t want symbols.
“It wants the actual abilities.”
As he lists them, he feels each one like a little star in his chest.
“Evolvers are warriors,” he adds, “fighting those who try to stop soul students from winning their real prizes.”
Abby frowns.
“What about everyone else?” she demands. “That sounds exclusive. Discriminatory.”
“When Evolvers reach higher mastery,” Evan says, “we sponsor those who earn help.
“We protect them from rule‑breaking competitors.
“And we teach them how to graduate.
“But we don’t force anyone.”
Abby’s voice tightens.
“All humans are equal and should be included,” she insists.
Rev glances at her.
“How many migrants are sleeping on your bedroom floor?” he asks. “How many homeless people are camping in your living room? Did you drain your bank account to feed the poor?”
Abby flinches.
“Not everyone wants help from soul students,” Evan says gently. “Actually, very few.
“Evolvers aren’t chasing the same trophies as Dissolvers, Absolvers, Revolvers.
“Dissolvers want pleasure.
“Absolvers want free passes.
“Revolvers want numbness.
“We want graduation.
“If they’re not interested, we don’t waste time.
“Warriors fight for students’ freedom, not humans’ right to do whatever they feel like.”
He sees kids in his mind planting seeds—moments of real courage, honesty, kindness.
“Evolvers protect souls focused on importing and planting seeds from their higher selves,” Evan says. “Those wise, virtuous seeds have to be nurtured.
“Teachers can show multiplication tables, but you have to memorize them.
“Watching someone ride a bike isn’t enough—you have to fall, wobble, practice.
“Warriors can run beside you for a while, help you balance.
“But if you never try, they get tired.
“Eventually, they let go.”
Everyone at the table knows that feeling.
Abby looks down at her glitter notebook.
“You keep upsetting me,” she says. “Everything you say goes against my beliefs.”
“Then change some of your illogical assumptions,” Evan says softly.
“I can’t,” she whispers. “It’s an all‑inclusive package.
“If I question anything, I lose everything.”
Evan’s heart aches.
“You just proved why Evolvers don’t sponsor Absolvers,” he says. “You believe your captain is already the ultimate sponsor.”
Abby straightens.
“There’s one condition,” she says. “To start receiving our pre‑won trophies, we have to obey our captain’s desires.”
Diesel leans in.
“And how do you know what He wants?” he asks. “He wrote that biography two thousand years ago.
“People change.”
Abby replies instantly.
“He doesn’t,” she says. “Same emotions yesterday, today, forever.”
Evan’s voice softens.
“Evolvers win more when others win more,” he says. “We don’t want people tortured into compliance.
“We want souls to keep evolving.”
Abby glares.
“You’ll get in big trouble for making your own rules,” she says. “Everyone has to play by the Believers’ rulebook.
“It says Believers win all the prizes.
“Non‑Believers get all the penalties.”
Rev looks between them.
“Aren’t we all playing the same game?” he asks. “We all seem to want different trophies.”
“We all compete to win different prizes,” Evan says. “But the real game doesn’t end until you win the grand prize: graduation from Soul School.”
Abby shivers.
“Hidden grand prize,” she mutters. “I don’t like that.
“I choose to believe whatever I wish will come true.”
Diesel huffs.
“Dissolvers’ prizes are temporary,” he says. “We’re never satisfied. We always want more hits, less pain.
“I know there’ll be penalties tomorrow for what I do today.
“I don’t care.”
Evan looks at him.
Anger and compassion twist together.
“Warriors fight for freedom to pursue self‑mastery,” he says. “Not freedom to self‑destruct.
“Tempters want humans entertainment‑drunk, not soul‑strong.”
Outside, the sun slips lower.
Inside, the air hums with choices none of them fully understand yet.
Chapter 7: The Temporary Principal Tests If Diversity or Equity Truly Exists
Chapter 7: The Temporary Principal Tests If Diversity or Equity Truly Exists
The temporary principal tests if diversity or equity truly exists by organizing a week-long competition between the four teams. Monday morning.
The entire school crams into the auditorium.
The air smells like deodorant, dust, and low‑grade dread.
DEI banners hang on the walls: Diversity. Equity. Inclusion.
The temporary principal stands onstage in a sharp suit, gripping the microphone like it’s the only thing holding him up.
“I have been hired,” he says, voice booming, “to implement new progressive DEI policies.
“The government seeks to advance an innovative agenda to address past inequities.”
Murmurs ripple.
Hopeful.
Skeptical.
Bored.
“Today,” he continues, “marks the start of a week‑long competition among four teams led by Diesel, Abby, Rev, and Evan.”
Heads turn.
Phones flash.
“The winner,” he says, “will be the team with the most members in this auditorium on Friday morning.
“Diesel’s Dissolvers wear black armbands.
“Abby’s Absolvers, red.
“Rev’s Revolvers, green.
“Evan’s Evolvers, purple.”
Evan feels dozens of eyes land on him like lasers he never signed up for.
“What are the rules?” he calls.
“There is only one rule,” the Principal answers. “The team with the most members on Friday wins.
“Students can switch teams until then, but after the assembly, they must remain on that team for the rest of the year.
“Each captain decides the rules for their team.”
Rev raises a hand.
“Why are you doing this?”
“To determine,” the Principal says, smiling thinly, “if diversity or equity truly exists.
“If all students are equal, there will only be one team under one captain by week’s end.
“The winning team’s rules will be considered for how the school operates.”
He spreads his arms.
“Captains, take your corners.
“Let the games begin.”
Energy slams through the room.
Friend groups glance at each other, checking which banner they’re secretly already under.
Chapter 8: Diesel, Abby, and Rev Build Barriers and Use Anger to Recruit
Chapter 8: Diesel, Abby, and Rev Build Barriers and Use Anger to Recruit
As the competition begins, Diesel, Abby, and Rev build barriers and use anger to recruit students into their warring corners. Diesel sprints to his corner with a fistful of black armbands.
“This is easy,” he yells. “Anyone who wants automatic A’s without doing the work—join my team.
“Freedom without responsibility.
“We prove we can unite in ignorance and still win.”
Laughter erupts.
It feels like a joke.
Until people start moving.
Most of the students drift toward Diesel’s corner, drawn like moths to a cheap neon sign.
They crowd around him, some laughing, some already chanting.
“Power to the people! Power to the people!” the Dissolvers shout. “We demand the freedom to REBEL!”
Across the auditorium, Abby climbs onto a folding chair in her red corner.
“Don’t listen to him!” she calls. “He’ll teach you to fail.
“Come to my team.
“You can have everything you desire.
“We’ll teach you blind belief.
“We’ll attract a powerful sponsor who will give us mansions and daily bread.
“No jobs necessary in the after‑school world.”
Her words hit a different nerve.
Half of Diesel’s group peels off and moves toward Abby, lured by the idea of never having to grind.
“Free stuff! Free stuff!” the Absolvers chant. “We believe, so we’ll receive!”
Rev stands by his green corner and lifts a hand.
His voice isn’t loud.
But it’s clear.
“Use your brains,” he says. “Soul School trains you for real jobs.
“You can buy what you want with the money you earn.
“Rebels and fantasy‑livers will struggle to get hired.
“Think ahead.
“Green stands for a garden of wisdom growing in your mind.”
Half of Abby’s team tilts again, drifting to Rev.
“We want bigger brains!” they chant. “Smart and rich!”
Evan stands quietly in the purple corner.
Purple bands in his hands.
No one moves toward him.
He watches the patterns: fear clustering around Abby, cheap thrill around Diesel, ambition around Rev.
He feels the room like a living field—colors flaring, crashing.
The three big groups start screaming over one another, trying to peel more members away.
Diesel huddles his crew.
“We can’t just yell,” he says. “Build a barrier. Use your anger.
“Hate them. Let it protect you.”
Evan watches dark energy rise around the Dissolvers—a crackling red‑black wall.
Trash‑talk escalates to shoves.
Dissolvers grab smaller kids and drag them into their corner, surrounding them like a street gang.
Absolvers and Revolvers notice and react.
They shove their biggest members to the outer edge as human shields.
Someone throws a book.
Someone throws a fist.
The auditorium erupts.
Onstage, the Tempter Principal smiles.
He quietly walks off.
No one sees him leave.
Chapter 9: Evan Projects AUM to Break Down Barriers and Restore Peace
Chapter 9: Evan Projects AUM to Break Down Barriers and Restore Peace
In his empty corner, Evan projects the sound of AUM to break down barriers, cutting through the chaos and restoring peace. In his empty corner, Evan closes his eyes.
He sinks cross‑legged to the floor.
Inside, he rises.
His inner body lifts off the ground, hovering an inch above the hardwood.
His aura ignites—flaming, iridescent, in waves of violet, gold, and white.
He begins to chant under his breath.
“I AM the light of the heart,” he says, “shining in the darkness of delusion and desire.
“I project this light into the world to erase all errors and break down all barriers.
“AUM.”
The sound starts low.
Deep.
Then swells.
When he bellows an intense AUM, the room itself seems to vibrate.
Lights flicker.
A shockwave of luminous sound and color bursts from his chest.
It rolls through the auditorium.
Through rage.
Through fear.
Through confusion.
Wherever it passes, fists drop.
Voices falter.
The dark static thins.
Peace falls over the chaos like soft rain.
The smaller, captive kids feel the shift first.
They slip through loosened grips.
Some sprint to safer parts of the room.
Others, still terrified of being alone, stay pressed to their teams.
A few students quietly change armbands, sliding from one color to another.
No one notices Evan.
No one joins his team.
He feels the familiar ache of working invisibly.
He keeps chanting anyway.
Light ripples out from him, whether anyone signs up for it or not.
Chapter 10: Diesel, Abby, and Rev Use Strategies and Spies to Win
Chapter 10: Diesel, Abby, and Rev Use Strategies and Spies to Win
As the competition consumes the campus, Diesel, Abby, and Rev use dirty strategies and spies to win over recruits. By Tuesday, the game spills into every corner of campus.
Diesel paces by the bleachers with his black‑band army.
“What do students want that we can offer?” he says. “What desires can we satisfy to make them switch?”
Evan walks past on the track, listening.
Diesel’s thoughts spark like fireworks—brilliant, short‑lived, aimed at pleasure right now.
In the courtyard, Abby sits on a stone bench with her red‑band Absolvers clustered around her.
“I don’t like the other teams,” she says. “Ours is the only one where you can wish your dream into the socialist after‑school world.
“Don’t be tempted by Dissolvers just to avoid suffering.
“Learn to ‘embrace the pain’ now and imagine eternal peace later.”
She leans in.
“We can use wish‑craft and fact‑magic,” she murmurs. “Let’s picture the Rebels being arrested for their disobedience.”
Her followers nod, comforted by revenge fantasies.
Under a tree, Rev addresses his green‑band Revolvers.
“Let’s pool our resources,” he suggests. “See if we can buy more members.
“Logical incentives. Scholarships. Promises of future success.”
Later, Abby and Rev cross paths by the lockers.
“Familiarity fosters forgiveness,” Abby mutters, almost to herself—as if rehearsing a way to spin the chaos.
Rev nods slowly.
“Let’s mingle with the other teams as spies,” he tells his group. “Pose as potential recruits. Nudge them toward our corner.
“Then regroup on Wednesday.”
By mid‑week, each team is more rigid.
Members accused of spying are thrown out on the spot.
Captains expel anyone who questions or refuses blind allegiance.
Panic blooms.
Students without a team feel like ghosts.
Rules twist. New ones appear, screaming instead of agreeing.
The four human types—Dissolvers, Absolvers, Revolvers, Evolvers—spin into high gear, making up rules and breaking them just as fast.
Cheating.
Bribery.
Threats.
The whole school starts to feel like a riot waiting for an excuse.
Wherever there’s a corner, there is Evan—sitting cross‑legged.
Auditorium.
Cafeteria.
Even the hallways between classes.
His presence radiates like a quiet firewall.
Students don’t consciously know why they feel calmer when he’s nearby.
They do.
His prayers are quiet, but anyone who wants to can hear him.
Not with their ears.
With something deeper.
Chapter 11: Without Evan's Steady Field, Students Fight and Riot
Chapter 11: Without Evan's Steady Field, Students Fight and Riot
Without Evan's steady field to anchor the school, the students fight and riot, letting their dark energy spiral out of control. Thursday morning feels wrong the second the bell rings.
Evan is absent.
No one says it out loud.
They feel it.
The classroom doors are locked.
The library is chained.
Teachers are scarce.
Students spill into hallways, the cafeteria and the courtyard.
Old tensions flare like they’ve been waiting under the floor.
Diesel stalks through the hall with his Dissolvers.
“Let’s make the others too sick to come tomorrow,” he says. “If they’re not here Friday, they can’t count.”
Some of his crew laugh.
Others swallow hard.
Somewhere along the way, a story spreads like a digital plague:
Everything bad is Evan’s fault.
By the third period, small fights spark.
By lunch, full clusters of screaming students slam into each other.
Trash cans topple.
Lockers dent.
A trophy case shatters.
The Rebels march the halls chanting, “Trophy! Trophy! We demand our trophy now! We want to graduate early!”
Without Evan’s steady field, the building’s energy twists into dark knotwork.
Some students hide in bathrooms.
Some film everything.
Some join in because their rage, for the first time, feels like power.
It’s the worst day the school has seen.
And there’s no AUM to cut through it.
Chapter 12: Students Feel Shame After the Riot Ends
Chapter 12: Students Feel Shame After the Riot Ends
On Friday morning, the students feel shame after the riot ends, realizing their aggression only brought chaos and exhaustion.
Students drag themselves back into the auditorium.
Bruised.
Exhausted.
Ashamed.
The aggression and anger from Thursday have burned out.
Now all that’s left is the crash.
The captains take their corners.
Black, red, green, purple.
They motion for their teams.
No one moves.
Everyone drifts to the center of the room instead.
They stand in one large, awkward cluster—arms crossed, eyes down.
They all know what teams they don’t want anymore.
No one speaks for a long time.
They don’t want to look their victims in the eyes.
They don’t want to look at the people who hurt them either.
Shame hangs in the air like smoke.
So does something else.
Recognition.
They all know they could have done more to stop Thursday.
For the first hour, they … exist together.
Then the room brightens.
Not from the ceiling lights.
From the stage.
Chapter 13: Evan Returns and Cancels the Competition
Chapter 13: Evan Returns and Cancels the Competition
Evan returns to the auditorium and officially cancels the competition, bringing a calm presence instead of judgment. Evan stands onstage.
Same jeans.
Same hoodie.
But he glows.
A soft, steady radiation spreads from him, washing the room in waves of calm.
His smile is warm.
No judgment.
No smugness.
Just presence.
He looks slowly across the auditorium until he has met almost every pair of eyes.
Rebel eyes.
Believer's eyes.
Mind‑only eyes.
All of them.
He speaks without a microphone.
Everyone hears him.
“The temporary principal has been fired and moved out of town,” Evan says.
A ripple of surprise.
“Now’s a good time,” he continues, “to reflect on what we learned this week.
“Please come forward and share any inspiration, wisdom, or sense of empowerment you found in this competition.”
Silence stretches.
Then a few former Rebels step forward.
“At first,” one says, “we all wanted to be Rebels.
“Freedom without responsibility.
“Endless pleasure without caring who it hurt.
“But we saw where that leads.
“Pain.
“Chaos.
“For everyone.”
Another Rebel, sporting a bruise on his cheek, adds, “If we lived by Diesel’s rules long‑term, we’d be weak‑minded, ignorant, lazy dropouts.
“No one would hire us.
“We’d be stuck as low‑class drifters addicted to whatever numbness we could buy.”
Next, students in red bands step up.
Abby stands among them, eyes wet.
“We learned that fantasy doesn’t automatically come true,” one Believer says. “Relying on a future sponsor to fix everything made us lazy.
“It stole our motivation to grow now.”
“We’re young,” another says. “We have time.
“But real success is based on merit, not wishes.”
Green‑banded Mind Beings move forward.
“We weren’t interested in being Rebels or chasing dreams,” one says. “We thought if we lived in our minds, we’d be okay.
“We planned well.
“Executed.
“But we had no power to protect ourselves when we were attacked.
“We thought because we didn’t hurt others, we wouldn’t have enemies.
“We were wrong.”
Evan listens.
He lets their confessions breathe.
“The temporary principal isn’t coming back to declare a winner,” he finally says.
“All in favor of canceling the competition, raise your hands.”
Hands go up.
Almost all of them.
Except Diesel’s.
He slumps in the corner, alone.
“The majority agrees,” Evan says. “This experiment to ‘prove equality through diversity’ is over.”
Relief moves through the crowd like a deep sigh.
They’re not off the hook.
But the game is.
Chapter 14: Abby Blames Evan for Not Taking Responsibility
Chapter 14: Abby Blames Evan for Not Taking Responsibility
Abby blames Evan for the chaos and demands he take responsibility for the riot by paying their debts. Abby steps out of the cluster, voice brittle.
“Why didn’t you try to get people to join your team?” she demands.
“You sat in your corner, chanting and praying.
“We were scared to join because we didn’t know what to expect.
“We”—she gestures at Diesel and Rev—“worked hard to make everyone happy.
“We tried sweet talk.
“Kidnapping.
“Lies.
“Threats.”
Rev adds, “I tried to buy people with promises.”
Diesel shrugs.
“We all lost,” he says. “No one joined us.
“Evan won because he didn’t try.
“Everything stayed calm when he was around.
“It felt like he was doing something.”
Abby seizes on that.
“Thursday was not calm,” she snaps. “Students fought. We trashed the school.
“That’s Evan’s fault for staying home.
“His job was to keep us from fighting, and he bailed.
“He should pay for the damage.”
The crowd, still heavy with shame, latches onto the scapegoat like a life raft.
“Evan’s fault! Make him pay!” someone shouts.
It catches.
“Evan’s fault! Make him pay!”
Abby raises her arm.
“All in favor of making Evan pay, raise your hands.”
Hands shoot up.
Everyone’s but Evan’s.
“The motion passes,” Abby declares. “Evan must take away all our responsibility for the riot.
“He can be our benevolent sponsor and carry our burdens.
“In return, we’ll forgive him for not showing up.”
Evan stands very still.
It’s Abby’s theology made visible: someone else pays, they get off free.
“According to law,” Evan says calmly, “if I’m responsible for your penalties, I also receive all your prizes.
“You would never graduate or earn any money.
“I would receive both your bills and your paychecks.”
Diesel brightens.
“I like that,” he says. “I spend money all day and never work.”
Evan shakes his head.
“Anything you order,” he explains, “would be delivered to me.
“You’d never own a car.
“Never own a house.
“I’d own everything.
“If someone takes your penalties, they also take your wins.
“Who wants to sign a contract making me responsible for everything you do?”
Horror crosses their faces.
They play it out in their minds: a life with no ownership, no pride in earned success.
“No! Stop!” the kids shout.
“We want to keep our rewards.
“We want our diplomas.
“We choose to be responsible for our recklessness.”
Abby tries once more.
“Don’t you want someone to pay your debts?” she pleads. “You can be saved from misery and worthlessness.”
“NO,” the crowd answers this time.
Clear.
Loud.
In that refusal, they reclaim a piece of the very thing they keep trying to hand away:
Their will.
Chapter 15: Evan Details Spirit Power and Virtuous Feelings as Weapons
Chapter 15: Evan Details Spirit Power and Virtuous Feelings as Weapons
Evan details how free will, spirit power, and virtuous feelings function as weapons against corrupted energy debts. When the shouting dies down, Evan steps forward again.
“People give up their free will,” he says, “and let others puppet them with witchcraft and sorcery.
“Sometimes that ‘magic’ looks like peer pressure.
“Sometimes it looks like ads.
“Sometimes it looks like politics.
“But it’s all the same: you hand away your choice.”
He sees it clearly now—strings of energy connecting kids to phones, trends, influencers, tempters.
“There are many teams inside teams,” Evan goes on. “Human slaves chasing trophies, even while they become trophies for someone else.
“The competition runs on three levels: concerns, energy sources, and spirit.”
He starts to sketch the map in the air with his hands.
“At the energy level, there are ‘slaves’ trying to increase raw power—no matter how.
“But every person is still an individual competitor.
“You each win or lose based on how you use energy, where you get energy from, how much you have, and how much spirit power you carry.”
He looks around.
“Spirit power is your weapon,” he says. “Wisdom and choice are your strategy.
“Virtuous feelings—love, courage, compassion—are your ammunition.
“Weapons can be used one of three ways: solo, in a group acting from divine guidance, or as tools in someone else’s hand.”
Some students straighten.
Others squirm.
“At the highest level,” Evan says, “when you act as an individual warrior with your own weapon and strategy, you win the prize.
“When you let an overlord—human or nonhuman—use your weapon for their agenda, they win.
“You still pay the karma.
“They still cash the check.”
He pauses.
“Munitions—your ammo—can be earned or borrowed,” he continues. “Virtuous energy is earned upfront—price paid.
“Perversions, addictions, corrupted energy? Those are loans you have to pay back with interest.
“There’s a lot of bad energy floating around to borrow.
“But eventually, the bank says no.
“Debt limit reached.
“Contestants have piled a mountain of debt through overindulgence in pleasure and distraction.”
The room is silent.
They all know what overindulgence feels like.
Most haven’t thought about where the bill lands.
Chapter 16: Evan Exposes Corrupt Generals, Dragons, and Tempters
Chapter 16: Evan Exposes Corrupt Generals, Dragons, and Tempters
Evan exposes the corrupt generals, dragons, and tempters who manipulate humans to steal their spiritual prizes. “There are corrupt generals,” Evan says, “who gather mindless humans to do their dirty work.
“They dodge most of the penalty because their recruits showed up late to the loan party.
“They still owe something—for brainwashing and coercion—but it’s a fraction of what their minions owe.
“They walk away with massive prizes that don’t belong to them.”
In their collective imagination, shadows rise: powerful adults, companies, movements that treat people like pieces.
“The commander of the DEI army,” Evan says, “has thousands of slaves who surrendered their common sense and embraced a fantasy agenda.
“He tricks them with half‑truths and lies.
“He pays for that.
“But his reward is control.”
Some students shuffle.
It’s not easy to hear that “good causes” can be hijacked.
“Tempters,” Evan continues, “come in body or ghost form.
“Serpents—lying manipulators—bite with disinformation.
“They poison with fantasies and false beliefs so souls are easier to control.
“They tell Evolvers to leave the warrior path.
“Offer toys instead of training.”
He can almost feel them slithering beneath slogans and memes.
“The Tempter team gains huge power by recruiting Relievers, Absolvers, Dissolvers,” he says. “They promise shortcuts.
“They teach pseudo‑spirit hacks.
“Use stolen energy and stolen powers.
“They never do their own dirty work.
“They send minions to burn, loot and riot.
“The minions think they’re winning justice.
“The Tempters win land and power.”
He sees Thursday again.
“How many of you,” he asks softly, “felt like you were doing the right thing yesterday, and then woke up today and realized you were just… used?”
Faces twist.
A few kids nod, eyes shiny.
“Over time,” Evan says, “Tempters build an army of soulless beings.
“People who’ve let their conscience go numb.
“They stuff them into politics, business and school systems.
“They quietly shift rules until fantasy feels more real than reality.
“Evolvers are fighting a losing battle—if they fight alone.”
He breathes.
“War is just another competition,” he says. “For land. For resources. For control.
“The big winners aren’t on the front lines.
“They’re the ones expanding their freedom.
“Dragons hoard trophies.
“They are never satisfied.
“They always want more.”
Everyone knows a Dragon.
Some realize with a jolt that they might be halfway into Dragon territory themselves.
Chapter 17: Rev Describes the Revolver's Dream of Becoming a Pure Observing Spirit
Chapter 17: Rev Describes the Revolver's Dream of Becoming a Pure Observing Spirit
Rev describes the Revolver's dream of becoming a pure observing spirit, while Evelyn defends the value of personal goals. “Veilers,” Evan continues, “use willpower to pull a curtain over the truth.
“They cover reality so fantasy can take its place.
“Veilers build entire fake realities—with fake problems and fake solutions—and call it ‘progress.’”
He glances at the DEI banners.
“The banners sound nice,” he says. “But when they’re used to hide the actual truth and shut down questions, that’s veil‑work.
“Spectators are bystanders.
“They want free stuff.
“They want to be saved.
“They watch other people play and call it participation.”
He thinks of kids on couches, cheering at games and dramas they will never enter themselves.
“Minions,” he says, “are mindless, pre‑programmed masses.
“They wait for orders.
“Then they swarm.”
Rev steps up, clutching his green band.
He looks calmer, but more vulnerable than before.
“The Revolver’s dream,” he says, “is to become a pure observing spirit.
“Nobody.
“No agency.
“We want to shrink to a pinprick of awareness, floating through the universe, seeing everything, caring about nothing.”
Abby shakes her head, pained.
“Why don’t you want to feel anything?” she asks.
“Revolvers feel vibrations,” Rev says. “Temperature. Texture.
“But we drop opinions.
“We don’t label anything as good or bad.
“We just… record.
“As invulnerable, lonely ghosts, we want nothing. Think nothing.
“We become like jellyfish of consciousness.
“I own nothing.
“I am nothing.
“But I lack nothing—because I want nothing.”
Evan tries to crack the tension.
“How do you train for Jellyfish Mode?” he asks.
Rev actually smiles a little.
“We train,” he says, “by rising above reaction.
“Dropping thoughts.
“Dropping goals.
“Blending into the cosmic soup.
“We extend our senses for miles—but don’t report to anyone.
“No mission.
“No orders.”
Abby leans forward.
“What if you see a bully beating up an innocent person?”
Rev’s eyes darken.
“We don’t care enough to intervene,” he says. “Desire to change things leads to disappointment and failure.
“If I don’t care what happens, I’m always in a state of victory.
“No desire, no loss.”
Diesel shudders.
“That sounds like nothing,” he says.
“Exactly,” Rev replies.
Evelyn steps forward, voice soft but strong.
“Personal goals and aspirations drive continuous learning,” she says. “Yes, you feel dissatisfaction until you reach a goal.
“But that discomfort is how you grow.”
She knows.
She’s lived through her own healing steps, each one fueled by a goal she wanted badly enough to hurt for.
Somewhere in the crowd, Diesel mutters, “Soulless Dissolvers think everything is random anyway.”
The circle closes.
Four teams.
Four philosophies.
Four ways to dodge or face responsibility.
Chapter 19: Students Find Seeds of Crysticism and Focus on Soul School
Chapter 19: Students Find Seeds of Crysticism and Focus on Soul School
The students find seeds of Crysticism within themselves, turning away from tempters and dragons to focus on graduating Soul School. The auditorium falls quiet.
The official “competition” is over.
But the real one isn’t.
Now that the dust has settled, questions hang over every head:
Who am I?
Where do I really belong?
What kind of team do I choose when no principal, no general, no serpent, no dragon is setting the rules?
In the stillness, something subtle shifts.
The energy moves differently.
Not just wild spikes of rage or ponds of numbness—but currents of honest regret, small sparks of courage, and flickers of hope.
They rise from each chest like pale lights, threading upward, weaving together.
These are the seeds of Crysticism in motion—not a lecture, but a lived mystery.
They help bridge the gap between everyday teenage life and the hidden mechanics of the mystical universe.
In this battered auditorium, Crystic Mystic students begin to learn what it means to master their souls’ superpowers—not by escaping their mistakes, but by owning them.
Outside, the world is still full of Tempters, Dragons, and shadow armies.
In summary, Tempters cannot do whatever they want. They are opportunistic predators who are strictly limited by what a person's karmic ledger allows and by the level of spiritual defense a person maintains.
Inside each teen, a quieter army stirs:
The Warriors built from spirit power, wisdom, and virtue.
The contest beneath everything continues.
But now more of them know they’re not just pieces on someone else’s board.
They’re players.
They’re evolving.
And the grand prize—graduating from Soul School—is no longer just a rumor.
It’s a distant mountain that they can finally see the outline of.
Not through blind belief.
Not through numb detachment.
But through the clear, painful, beautiful work of becoming themselves.
Chapter Synopsis:
Chapter Synopsis:
After school, the Crystic Mystic Club gathers in the library to debate the mechanics of the universe as a competitive game for energy, leading a temporary principal to launch a week-long school-wide competition divided into four teams (Dissolvers, Absolvers, Revolvers, and Evolvers). After a chaotic Thursday riot exposes the destructive nature of these shortcuts and unanchored philosophies, Evan uses his inner presence and the AUM chant to help restore peace. Ultimately, the students reject blind obedience, self-destruction, and emotional numbness, choosing instead to own their free will and focus on the true mission of graduating from Soul School.
Core Themes & Laws:
Core Themes & Laws:
humans compete for various prizes using distinct strategies, ranging from Diesel's sensory rebellion and Abby's blind belief in a pre-won savior to Rev's pursuit of detached emptiness and Evan's focus on soul evolution.
shortcuts like borrowing misqualified energy or demanding someone else carry your karmic debt destroy personal responsibility and forfeit true soul growth.
Tempters and corrupt generals act as opportunistic predators who manipulate unanchored masses through propaganda, peer pressure, and false agendas.
true spiritual evolution requires individual responsibility, virtuous ammunition, and the disciplined mastery of the soul's nine superpowers rather than passive compliance or emotional numbness.
Key Entities Featured in this Document:
Key Entities Featured in this Document:
Evan: A Crystic student and Evolver who guides his peers through inner spiritual discipline, uses the AUM projection to break dark barriers, and teaches the mechanics of soul evolution.
Diesel: The leader of the Dissolvers who champions sensational pleasure, rebellion, and borrowing misqualified energy without paying karmic debts.
Abby: The leader of the Absolvers who advocates for blind belief in a pre-winning captain and expects a free pass to paradise without personal effort.
Rev: The leader of the Revolvers who seeks mental emptiness, chemical detachment, and the unlit-candle state of becoming an unreactive observing spirit.
Evelyn: A student who defends the value of personal goals and aspirations as the necessary fuel for continuous learning and growth.
Crysticism: The conceptual framework and narrative universe exploring soul school graduation, cosmic laws, and mystic warrior training.
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