There was a space beyond, limited and walled, and yet giving a sense of expanding to immense size and volume.

There was only one presence in here, but there were bright shining Marks over there, blazing with the power of the Minds behind them. Five of them, and all women, he could feel distinctly.

Then the space in front of him turned around and looked at him, all in glorious gold and rainbows.

Ben gawked, despite himself. He’d seen cosmic entities, more than once after that meeting with Galactus, the FF having gone to several strange places, and all such beings radiated a kind of overwhelming presence of body and soul.

That was what he was feeling here. A mind and soul that was Above him, in ways he couldn’t even tell, brighter and stronger than him in the same way he was physically stronger than any normal human.

He didn’t even really recognize her as anything similar to her physical body, and at the same time, he couldn’t mistake her for anyone else.

-Uh, wow?- he managed to /say into the mindscape, as he abruptly realized this whole Markroom was inside a chamber of her mind. He was literally inside a part of her head...

-This Markroom is very small, Ben Grimm. I have recruited very few people into it, and you are the first who is not related to me.- She let him digest that. -There is one other such Marked organization on the world. Two guesses who head it up.-

Ben looked at those bright Markdoors, and didn’t have to think too much. -The Bear and the Hag...- he /murmured, not being a fool.

-And that is how they run the world. A telepathic /chatroom between those who follow them and one another, coordinated at the speed of thought across the world, dimensions, and space. They share information, update one another on events in real time, bypass borders and limits on man and technology, and allow those without Power to contribute to the whole and work together across distances as if right next door.

-Joining the Markspace of the Hag and the Bear means you have joined those who run the world. Mine, eh, I’ve been keeping it tight for family.-

-You don’t want to compete with them,- he /judged shrewdly, nodding agreement to that course of action. Setting up a rival telepathic kingdom to the Two could easily be seen as a challenge to them.

-At some point I will join them. I am not opposed to what they are doing, and I am not here to create more barriers and walls among humanity. For now, this is simply a convenient means to communicate among those I trust, and incidentally a means to help them on their road to greatness.-

Ben looked around the place. -So, can I talk to the others?- he /asked carefully.

-Certainly. You just knock on their Door.-

He hesitated despite himself. -I dunno, I get the feeling that might be a bad idea.-

-I will be offering a Mark to Alicia, naturally enough. No marriage or engagement is going to survive one of the parties having telepathic links to members of the opposite sex, and the other not. Especially to someone as wonderfully silver of soul as Benjamin Grimm.-

His mental eyes got very wide, and before he knew it, he was on the other side of his closed Markdoor.

---

He had beads of sweat on his forehead as his eyes popped open, and he looked at me nervously. “I think you might want to get that Mark on Alicia as soon as possible,” he said to me a little thickly.

“I was planning to.” I drank the last of my coffee, set it down, and wandered over to plant a kiss on his balding head. “Be proud of your shining silver soul, Benjamin Grimm. It’s a rare and precious thing in the world.”

It was still morning, but Alicia was probably up and around in her studio. I could easily zip over and give her a Mark. Hers could probably be visible, under her hair was probably enough...

If Ben was really sweating and trying not to think about a few things, that was to be expected. Feeling a wave of admiration directly like that was a powerful thing...

--------

Ben and Alicia agreed to give the Marks a month, to see if they could hold up under my telepathic presence. Given the way they were canoodling mentally already, I didn’t see that as going to be much of an issue.

Mmm, I’d have to give Alicia a pair of Ultraspecs so she could finally see, too, and wouldn’t be so vulnerable to people trying to strike at Ben and the FF.

---

I slid some Iced coffee over, pointed at the pastries, and Johnny sat down to enjoy himself. “Whash up, Dyna?” he asked, feeling better after plopping like a stone for half a day.

“Johnny, we’ve got to get you turned around on a few things.” His eyes popped open at the ominous words. He wanted to reply, but his mouth was all icing up and exploding through his head with alchemical sweetness. He mumbled and waved his pastry around as he chewed emphatically.

“You’ve made some choices in your life that are going to have some bad effects down the road,” I told him, flicking up the Assay of him.

============

Johnny Storm, The Human Torch, The Fire of the Four

Male Powered Human/2 (Obsession: Thrillseeker), Avatar of Fire/10*

Vizard/5, Scout/4; Archer/10; Sorcerer (Fire)/7

Strength: 12-> 17

Dexterity: 15-> 21

Constitution: 14-> 18 (28)*

Intelligence: 14-> 17

Wisdom: 9-> 15

Charisma: 16-> 23 (33)*

Notable Talents/Traits: Pyrotechnic; Hot-Tempered, Roving Eye; Hot Rodder, Prankster; Slayer: Constructs (robots)

*Fire of the Four Template Characteristics: Alternate Elemental Form**; Fire and Radiance Immunity; Fire Control; Fire Absorption; Fiery Vitality; Fiery Will; Fire Attunement; Heated Flight**; Temperature Sensitivity; Energy Resistance**; Impact Resistance**

=============

He could Assay himself now, so this wasn’t a surprise to him, although naturally doing it on himself got a LOT more details than I was putting out with just this topical Valence I scan.

The way his Charisma and Human/2 were blinking, not so much.

He slurped at his coffee, which just made his ice situation worse, and there was a war of steam and fire in his mouth as he attempted to work through his baked bliss faster, and failed.

I just crinkled my eyes in amusement, patiently watching him sputter and struggle.

At last he managed to swallow and the furnace in his mouth cleared things up. “What’s the problem, Dyna?” he asked with a winning smile. “Charisma is what I need to master more Sorcery-type magic, right?”

“No. Charisma is what you need to wield it, which is something completely different.” His smile slipped slightly as his Wisdom blinked green. “You need more Wisdom, and badly.”

“Ugh, sounds boring,” he admitted. “Like sitting around for a month and feeling the fire was,” he winced.

“And yet, it brought you great rewards, did it not?” His face twisted, but he couldn’t refute it. “Remember what I told you? Great wielders of fire temper and control the flames. Far too many let the flames control them. And you have a major problem in that area.” His Charisma Stat winked red again.

“Uh... because it’s so high relative to my other ones?” he guessed, not being dumb.

“Especially when you Flame On. I don’t know if there’s a cap to it, but if you keep getting a Charisma point every Avatar level, you’re going to become an imperialist I-Know-Best-Fuck-Off chowderhead every time you Flame On. It takes tremendous control to master a Charisma that high.

“You know I’m right. Every time I see you Flame On, the excitement surges through you as your power blossoms. It’s impossible to miss, and it’s only going to get worse with time.

“Your Avatar nature means there is no way you cannot hit Twenty as a Sorcerer. But if you want to keep control over your own emotions, you need to advance your control in other areas.”

He winced, looking at me. “Gee, Dyna, that sounds so unnatural. Wouldn’t it be better for me to be more powerful?” he asked.

“Let me turn that back on you. Wouldn’t it be better for you to have less control?”

His mouth opened and shut, staring at me. His hair poofed into flame, and it was interesting watching his expression as my eyes didn’t leave his own to glance at it, and he couldn’t put it out while I held his eyes.

At last he looked away, clenched his fist, and his hair extinguished. “That is a cruel way of putting it,” he managed, looking at his hand, where white-hot fires were dancing on his palm. “I thought contemplating my navel all that time had helped my control.”

“It did, to the extent of your Matrix. But your flame is not your Matrix... and all it did is make your flame stronger, it didn’t help you control it. Your Matrix improved with your Level... but all you did is figure out stuff you could do. There’s more power moving through you then ever. Your fine control and restraint are likely worse than ever.

“You know you ignited nine times while you were sleeping last night?” I put the final nail in.

His face fell sharply. He hadn’t done that badly in years. “Nine?” he asked, trying not to believe.

“Slept right through the alarms until you turned off. Seven hours in, I started pumping in Seawater Mist vapors and ocean sounds to calm you down.”

“Nine times in seven hours?” he repeated blankly, appalled. Flames whooshed up on his arms and head again.

He stared at them, trembling, as I took another drink. “Your fire wants to get out and explode, Johnny,” I told him, unperturbed. “It’s a knot of white-hot energy that wants to dance, not be constrained inside you. As it works off your emotions, any emotions, and your Charisma magnifies your emotions, you’re fanning it more, not controlling it more.

“Do you want to do something about that?” I asked him.

He wrestled with his control, his frustration only making it more difficult for him. My waiting there politely while he tried to tamp himself down and kept failing only made it worse.

“Take another bite,” I cajoled him, nodding at the rest of his Danish.

He grabbed it and shoved it into his mouth, biting down.

The distraction helped, concentrating on the icy sweetness and textures, and redirecting the flames to his mouth to war against the alchemical frostiness. The flames slowly vanished from his arms and head as he sat there with his head in his hands, just sucking on the ice in his mouth and not saying anything.

I sipped coffee and waited as he calmed himself down using the advanced culinary method of Meditation, Mmm This Tastes So Good.

At last he swallowed, and slowly looked up at me regarding him there. “Yeah, I think I need some help,” he admitted unwillingly. “I don’t think carrying around tarts or strudel or whatever all the time is going to work.”

“Probably not,” I agreed.

“What does all this have to do with my being Human/2?” he had to ask.