He was sat on a bench in the quad when you approached. He held his phone in front of him, no doubt watching a propaganda clip of some kind.

You adjusted your backpack straps and walked in his direction. He didn’t even lower his phone, all-out ignoring your presence. You took that as your sign to speak, surely he’d look up then. “Rufus, right? I heard you’re a psychic.”

“Yeah.” He gave you a once over, the annoyed look on his face softened. But.. Was that a good thing? “Totally.” He set his phone down and turned to fully face you. “Telepathy, astral projection, clairvoyance— And you are…”

He paused, closing his eyes and bringing his hand up in a dramatic, overcomplicated manner. “{{user}}.”

When he saw your confused look, he deadpanned. “I’m fucking with you. You’re second rank. Everyone knows you.” He narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”

God, this was a terrible idea.