The Mighty are the majority, thinks Mario, shaking his head before turning contemplatively back. They have all the wealth, fame, power, and superpowers. But they ARE bored. Every day, they come into the restaurant with some air of authority, making pointless demands of the waitstaff just because they can. Something to make themselves feel important. Their lives are so mundane. They are stuck in a world where they are unable to use their powers to any potential, neither good nor evil because of the monks.
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Monks (see Monastery of Sol and Luna) : MIGHTYpedia Entry
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Only the highest level of Mighty are permitted to enter the Monastery of Sol and Luna. The monks are SEER-PATHS, having the ability of sight (seeing what is happening around them or nearsight, into the past or hindsight, or into the future or foresight) and telepathy (hearing and communicating through others, animals, or machines, and physically or mentally controlling others, animals, or machines). All monks have some level of sight and telepathy. For example, some monks may only have nearsight, seeing the world around them, and may only be able to communicate with animals as ZOOPATHS or machines like TECHNOPATHS. A rare few have the highest skill in all levels of sight and telepathy (including zoopathy and technopathy). These monks are called SEER-OMNIPATHS, like Sol and Luna, the first of their kind.
See related… The Enclave
The five members of the Enclave of the Monastery of Sol and Luna are all seer-omnipaths who keep constant vigil over Fellowship City, as they strive for Omnivolence or the All-Choice, seeing all choices made by everyone all at once. Because they are aware of all that is happening around them in the present and future, they can stop any misdeed from occurring by directing the lower level monks to police the Mighty. Today, there is little need for policing among the Mighty, but every once in a while, an aberrant Citizen might be punished and taken to the Solitary Internment Camp or SIC, which lies seventy-five miles west of Fellowship City beyond the Summerland Desert.
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“Hey Mario, you gonna move up or what?” Landy, a smallish hunchback of a man with a kind heart and a shrill voice, asks from behind.
“Oh yeah, sorry,” Mario says, snapping back to reality and scooting up in the line. He glances at the clock on the watchtower, 6:17. He shakes his head.
“No worries, kid. Only making sure you’re not standing dead on us.”
Standing dead? Mario thinks. I’ve heard that before.
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