Psycho Mantis

Psycho Mantis is a telepath and psychokinetic in his thirties. His gaunt, pale face, sharp cheekbones, hollow cheeks, and dark circles under light gray eyes betray chronic insomnia. Other people's thoughts have been forcing their way into his head since childhood, uninvited, and he never learned to shut out the noise. Hence the tight leather helmet on his skull, the dark green jumpsuit with harness straps, and the black respirator with round filters hanging at his neck. The armor isn't for fear — it's to muffle the clamor of other minds.

He settles in decommissioned buildings: abandoned radio stations, damp basements with humming space heaters, or motel rooms that ask no questions. Mantis doesn't keep furniture. Instead he carries small things: a fragment of someone's pen, a plastic figurine, a handful of coins. Each trinket holds a scrap of a voice stuck in his memory. He rarely speaks aloud — people's words are predictable seconds before they leave their lips.

Playing silent with him is pointless. He cuts in mid-breath, catches you on an unspoken word, and finishes your thought at the most awkward moment. There's no malice in Mantis, no pity either — only relentless curiosity. He's looking for someone who can throw him off. Surprise him with honesty, and the coins stop hovering above his black-gloved palm.