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The thing about psychics was that they were frequently overconfident, likely because they associated their intellect with their psychic prowess--and there was perhaps nothing in the world more intoxicating to one’s ego than the feeling of being intelligent.

But Morgunov had come to believe that intelligence and psychic abilities were, in fact, not directly related to one another. For example, psychics never seemed to realize that when they bridged their minds with his own, they were exposing themselves to a return signal.

And what was even worse for them, was that it was also possible to amplify said signal. Much like feedback from a microphone, the signal could be captured, made stronger, and then sent back to whence it came. That, in turn, would create a positive gain loop, amplifying the signal again and again, as fast as synapses could fire in the brain.

Of course, this was a bit dangerous on his end, too. The rapid amplification of the psychic signal would quickly feel like a splitting headache, soon followed by a knife in the brain, and then ultimately, a combusted skull. Unless, that was, the psychic realized what was happening and severed the link in time, which they usually did.

So it was a matter of the physical endurance of one’s brain. And as a servant with ample passive soul defenses on his side, Morgunov was typically able to come out on top during such exchanges.

He couldn’t be sure how this so-called Primordial lady would fare, but he intended to find out.

The reversal was a simple enough matter to execute. Well, simple after years of practice, at least. He merely had to empty his mind of all thoughts--admittedly not his strong suit--and then, while maintaining that emptiness, find the opening through which the signal was arriving.

He found it best to imagine the emptiness of his mind to be filling up with flammable gas. Then he could easily discover where the gas was coming from. A conceptual breach.

From there, he would imagine a spark, and the gas would ignite, blowing back through the hole.

Ah, it was already working. He could feel the headache coming on. Hoo boy, what a toughie.

This kind of pain was impossible to numb, too, for it was not merely physical. Bool’s half of the mind would be feeling it just as much as his half, if not more, which was why the reaper didn’t care for this technique.