# Chapter 4: Training of Friendship Birds singing. Trees rustling. Professors signing... Wait, it's from a different story. Anyway, the morning was starting great! Max was already anticipating how he would become the most powerful man in the universe by befriending everyone. But before that he had to train a little bit with his Friendship Magic. Maybe shoot some friendship rays, and annihilate some monsters near the academy. Or turn some more cartoonish villains into "friends". Max sat at the edge of his bed, turning the wooden dragon figurine over in his hands. The early morning light filtered through his window, and he could already hear other students moving around in the corridors below. He had maybe an hour before classes started, which meant he had maybe an hour to experiment with his powers before anyone caught him doing something questionable. The question was: how exactly did you go about finding test subjects for friendship magic without looking like a complete lunatic? He couldn't just walk up to random students and say "Hey, want to help me figure out if I can mind-control you?" That would get him reported to the headmaster faster than Drake could profess his undying devotion. And he definitely couldn't ask his actual friends to be guinea pigs, since the whole point was to avoid accidentally enslaving people he cared about. What he needed were volunteers who deserved it. Or at least people who wouldn't miss their free will too much. Max stood up and paced his small room, thinking through his options. The academy had to have its share of troublemakers and minor bullies, students who made life difficult for others without quite crossing the line into serious consequences. If he could identify a few of those types, maybe he could justify using his powers on them as a sort of preemptive defense measure. Except that sounded uncomfortably close to the reasoning dictators used. "I'm only oppressing the people who probably deserve it" wasn't exactly a moral high ground. He slumped back onto his bed with a groan. This was impossible. Either he practiced his abilities and risked becoming an accidental tyrant, or he avoided using them entirely and risked losing control at the worst possible moment. Neither option was particularly appealing. A knock at his door interrupted his internal debate. "Max? You awake?" Pip's voice called from the hallway. "Yeah, come in." Pip entered carrying what looked like two pastries wrapped in napkins. "Thought you might want breakfast before the dining hall gets crowded. Also, I wanted to check if Drake and his friends were camped outside your door." "Are they?" "Not yet, but the morning's still young." Pip handed him one of the pastries. "You look troubled. Still worrying about the whole friendship zombie situation?" Max bit into the pastry, which was still warm. "I was thinking about practicing. Trying to figure out how my powers work before I accidentally convert half the student body. But I can't exactly test it on innocent people, and I can't ask volunteers since that defeats the whole point of seeing if it works on unwilling subjects." "Have you considered the forest?" Pip asked, settling into Max's desk chair. "There are supposed to be some aggressive creatures in the woods near campus. Wolves, maybe some wild boars. If your magic works on animals, you could practice there without worrying about ethics." Max considered this. It wasn't a terrible idea, though the thought of creating a pack of friendship-obsessed wolves had its own problems. Still, animals didn't have the same moral complications as people. If he accidentally made a squirrel worship him, he could probably live with that guilt. "The problem is getting caught," Max said slowly. "Students aren't supposed to go into the forest alone, especially not undefined element students who might explode things by accident." Pip shrugged. "True, but you're not exactly a normal undefined element student anymore. You've got combat instructors paying attention to you now. If you told them you wanted to practice in a controlled environment, they'd probably allow it." Max doubted that, but he nodded anyway. After Pip left to start his morning kitchen shift, Max sat alone with his thoughts again. The real problem wasn't finding a place to practice. The problem was admitting what he actually wanted to do, which was find people who annoyed him and test whether he could override their personalities on command. The forest idea was fine for basic experimentation, but ultimately he needed to understand how his powers worked on humans. Specifically, on humans who weren't already trying to attack him. What if the magic only activated during confrontations? What if it required genuine emotional investment, like actually caring about protecting someone? He couldn't exactly manufacture those situations without putting his friends in danger, which defeated the entire purpose. Max walked to his window and looked out at the academy grounds. Students were beginning to emerge from various dormitories, heading toward the dining hall or early morning classes. Some walked alone, others in small groups. He found himself cataloging them almost unconsciously, noting which ones moved with the confidence of popular students and which ones seemed to skulk along the edges of foot traffic. There. A tall boy in a green sash shoved a smaller student out of his way near the fountain. Not hard enough to knock him down, just enough to assert dominance. The smaller student stumbled, caught himself, and kept walking without looking back. The interaction lasted maybe three seconds, casual cruelty so normalized that nobody else even glanced in their direction. Max's fingers tightened on the windowsill. That green-sashed student would make an excellent test subject. Someone who clearly enjoyed making others uncomfortable, who probably had a dozen similar interactions every day. Would the world really be worse off if that student suddenly became obsessed with being kind to people? Except Max would never know if the kindness was real or just magical compulsion. And more importantly, he'd be making that choice for someone else, deciding that his judgment of their character warranted erasing their free will. That was the kind of thinking that led to very dark places. But wasn't he already doing that? Drake and his friends hadn't consented to their personality changes. Max had simply decided they were threatening his friend and acted accordingly. The fact that it had been instinctive rather than premeditated didn't make it less problematic. Maybe the solution wasn't to find more victims—test subjects, he meant test subjects—but to figure out how to reverse what he'd already done. If he could learn to undo the friendship effect, then at least he'd have a way to fix his mistakes. Though that raised the question of whether Drake and the others would immediately return to their bullying ways, which brought him right back to the original ethical dilemma. Max pressed his forehead against the cool glass. This was getting complicated. A memory surfaced, unbidden and unwelcome. His dad standing in their workshop, staring at a half-finished cabinet that refused to cooperate. Max had been maybe twelve, complaining about some school assignment that seemed impossible. "Remember son," his dad had said, scratching his beard, "if something gets too complicated, just shit on it." Max had thought it was metaphorical advice about letting go of perfectionism. Then his dad had literally climbed onto the workbench, dropped his pants, and defecated on the cabinet he'd been struggling with for the past four hours. Just stood there, maintaining eye contact with the wood like it had personally offended him. Max had never successfully unremembered that image, though he'd tried for years. But the principle stood, didn't it? When things got too tangled up in moral complexity and ethical considerations and worry about consequences, sometimes you just needed to commit. Make a choice. Do something. "Fuck ethics," Max muttered, surprising himself. "I'm making the world better." He shoved his window open wider. The green-sashed student was still visible near the fountain, now laughing with two friends while a younger student hurried past them with obvious nervousness. Max didn't overthink it. Didn't catalog all the reasons this was a terrible idea. He just climbed onto the windowsill and jumped. The fall from the second floor wasn't far enough to be dangerous, just far enough to be stupid. Max hit the grass in an awkward roll that would definitely leave bruises, scrambled to his feet, and jogged toward the fountain while students nearby stopped to stare at the lunatic who'd just thrown himself out of a window. The green-sashed student noticed him approaching. "What the—" "Abra kadabra," Max said, pointing at him like a kid playing wizard. The warm pressure exploded from his chest, golden and purposeful. It slammed into the green-sashed student like a physical force, and his expression transformed instantly. The smirk vanished. His eyes went wide with wonder and devotion. Then he dropped to his knees. "Oh great Max," the student intoned, pressing his forehead to the ground. "Blessed be your name. We are not worthy of your friendship, yet you grace us with your presence. May your light shine upon us all, forever and ever." His two friends had dropped to their knees as well, heads bowed in identical postures of worship. The golden energy had apparently caught them in its radius. "Amen," one of them whispered. "Praise Max," the other added reverently. Max stood there and watched three students prostrate themselves on the academy lawn. He still had his arm extended like he was casting a spell. Other students had stopped to watch, a lot of other students. Someone dropped their books. Someone else made a strangled noise that might have been a laugh or a gasp of horror. The green-sashed student continued his prayer. "We confess our unworthiness. Before your magnificent presence, we are but specks of dust, undeserving of your radiant friendship. Yet in your infinite mercy, you have chosen to acknowledge our existence, and for this we are eternally grateful." Max lowered his arm slowly. This was not what he'd intended. Well, it was exactly what he'd intended, but the kneeling thing was new. And deeply uncomfortable to watch. The student's voice rose with religious fervor. "We pledge our lives to your service, oh Max. Our hearts beat only to bring you joy. Our hands move only to assist you. Our thoughts dwell on nothing but ways to prove ourselves worthy of your divine friendship". "Divine friendship," the other two echoed in unison. A small crowd had gathered now, forming a loose circle around the strange tableau. Max recognized a few faces from his classes, all wearing expressions of bewildered fascination. Someone was definitely taking notes. Great. But instead of panicking or trying to explain, Max felt something shift in his perspective. These students were watching. Waiting to see what he'd do. Judging him based on his next move. So Max did what any reasonable person would do when accidentally creating a cult during breakfast hour. He flexed. He brought his right arm up in a classic bicep pose, the kind bodybuilders did at competitions. The three students continued their fervent prayers below him, completely oblivious to his new posture. "Guide us in the ways of friendship," the green-sashed student intoned. "Teach us to walk the path of companionship. Show us how to be worthy vessels of your—" Max switched to his left arm. Same flex, same dead-serious expression. A girl in the crowd made a noise like a dying seagull, though he wasn't sure why. "—boundless compassion and understanding. We are humbled by your greatness, oh Max. We are nothing without your light to guide us through the darkness of—" He used both arms now, doing a double bicep flex that would have made professional wrestlers proud. Max stared straight ahead with a completely neutral expression. His supposedly divine presence loomed over the praying students. "—our miserable existence. Forgive us our trespasses against the sacred bonds of friendship. Absolve us of our sins of cruelty and selfishness. Cleanse our—" Max transitioned into a side chest pose, turning slightly to showcase his profile. Someone in the crowd started wheezing with suppressed laughter, which made the whole situation even more absurd. "—souls with the purifying fire of your benevolence. We are reborn in your friendship, oh Max. We are made new by your acceptance. We cast aside our old ways and embrace the teachings of—" He moved through poses with mechanical precision, doing the side tricep, the back lat spread, and the most muscular. Each transition was smooth and deliberate while the prayers continued their rhythmic cadence beneath him. The crowd had grown larger. At least thirty students now, maybe more. Some looked horrified, though others seemed fascinated in the way people were fascinated by natural disasters. A few were definitely trying not to laugh. "—your perfect example. May we never stray from the light of your friendship. May we always remember this blessed moment when you graced us with your attention and transformed our—" Front lat spread. Abdominal and thigh. Back double bicep. "—worthless lives into something beautiful. We are your servants, oh Max. We are your disciples. We will spread word of your magnificence to all who—" "WHAT IN THE NAME OF ELEMENTAL BALANCE IS HAPPENING HERE?" Professor Thornwick's voice cut through the prayer like a knife through butter. The crowd parted immediately as the stern earth instructor strode forward with her brown robes billowing dramatically. Max dropped his pose mid-flex.