Classes had officially started. The campus of Virelia Academy buzzed again like an old server booting back to life after a month-long nap. The skies were clear, the courtyard was full of returning students, and the cafeteria had upgraded its noodles. All signs pointed to a good semester.
First lecture? Astrophysics and Combat.
Yeah, it sounds like something a sci-fi writer made up after a Red Bull overdose. But here, it was just another Tuesday. The collapse changed the academic world completely. Gone were the neat little boxes of "science" and "defense." Now, they trained you to be smart and not die.
Cas, Rin, and I were settled in the back row like always. Cas was already sipping on an iced mocha, perfectly relaxed. Rin was drawing mini black holes in her notebook, humming some offbeat tune. I was mentally checking out before the class even began. G wasn't with us today—he had Neural Research class in the other wing.
Then, just as I was about to drift into daydream mode, the door opened.
Professor Dixon entered the room. Tall, sharp-eyed, and carrying nothing—no tablet, no bag, not even his regular mug with the constellation print. Just himself and that vague, unnerving smile.
"Morning," he said, tone as casual as if he were greeting friends at a coffee shop. "Today we skip the theory."
Murmurs broke out instantly. Rin dropped her pencil. Cas leaned forward just slightly. Dixon didn't pause.
"Instead, we have a demonstration. A glimpse into the level of control, innovation, and... force that our top enhancements and tech have reached."
Then came the name that made half the room inhale at the same time.
"Rob will be joining us."
Just like that. One name. One syllable. That's all it took.
Cue the entrance: the door opened again and in walked a man who looked like he belonged in a post-apocalyptic action movie. Tall, built like a boulder, clean buzzcut, black tactical suit without a single wrinkle. His presence had gravity—literally and figuratively.
Rob. Just Rob. The myth. The meme. The mystery. One of the few Enhanced who actually lived and trained on campus.
His Ascended Path? Tectara.
Not the rarest, but arguably one of the most practical. Tectara meant he could manipulate gravitational forces—change density, apply pressure, collapse matter, and basically mess with physics like it was clay.
Rob walked to the center of the room without a word. The assistants wheeled in props: a reinforced alloy pistol on a stand, a target dummy, and a steel slab thicker than my entire savings account.
"Watch closely," Dixon said, stepping aside.
Demo Part One: The Implosion
Rob raised his hand, fingers twitching just slightly. He didn't grunt or make a dramatic pose. He just focused. The pistol on the stand began to shimmer—like light was warping around it.
Then it folded.
Not shattered. Not blown up. Folded. Like a soda can crushed in reverse motion. Except it turned into a tight, dense cube about the size of a fist.
No explosion. Just precision.
The entire room gasped. Rin slapped my arm. "Tell me you saw that."
I did. And it looked like reality just got rewritten.
Demo Part Two: The Levitation
Next came the slab. Three tons of pure, thick metal. Rob glanced at it once. Then, in a fluid motion, lifted his other hand.
The slab floated.
Not jerkily. Smooth. Graceful. It hovered a few feet off the ground, tilting slightly like it was on a slow carousel. Rob rotated it, then froze it mid-air. Then, for fun—because I swear this man knew how to entertain—he made it spin like a record. The freaking metal whirled in place, humming softly.
Phones were out. Students stared like they were watching magic. Someone near the front whispered, "Marry me." Not even joking.
Rob brought the slab down gently, barely making a sound.
Then he just nodded and walked out. Like he didn't just throw the laws of physics out the window.
Dixon gave a single clap. "And that, students, is what we call progress."
The bell rang right after. Lecture over. People buzzed out of the room, voices high with excitement. My brain? Still trying to process it.
---
I found G near the garden steps, chewing on an energy bar and staring at his neural interface sketchpad.
"Hey," I said.
He looked up. "Yo. What's up?"
I sat down beside him, hesitating for a second.
"So… I think I might try therapy."
He blinked. "Oh. That's new. You okay?"
I scratched my head. "Yeah, just… I don't know. Everyone's hyped. School's back. Rob's defying gravity. But I still feel kinda… disconnected."
G nodded slowly. "You've been feeling that for a while, huh?"
"Yeah," I admitted. "It's like, no matter how cool stuff gets, I'm always in this fog. Like I'm watching a movie, not living it."
He folded his arms. "Honestly, man, I think therapy's a good call. We've been through stuff. Big stuff. Losing your parents, raising Leah, trying to be normal in a world that isn't. That's not small."
I gave a small laugh. "Didn't think you'd be the one telling me to go."
G grinned. "I'm studying brains, remember? I know when one's screaming for help—even when its owner doesn't want to admit it."
"Right. Smartass."
He offered me a fist bump. "Proud of you though. Seriously."
I bumped it. "Thanks, man."
---
Back Home – That Night
When I told Leah, she squinted at me like I'd just confessed to joining a cult.
"You? Therapy?"
"Yeah," I said. "Booked it for Friday."
She smirked. "Do I need to buy you tissues? Want me to knit you a blanket of feelings?"
"Okay. Chill."
"Gonna talk about your 'inner child'?"
"I will uninstall your favorite sketch filters."
She gasped. "You wouldn't dare."
We both cracked up. For a moment, I didn't feel that fog.
Just… normal.
---
You Time:
So yeah. Rob defied physics, Dixon dropped a bomb of inspiration, and I might actually go cry in a soundproof room. Fun day, huh?
No seriously—if you're still here, thanks for sticking with me. Don't worry. I'll make it through. Maybe with some help. Maybe with a punchline.
Or maybe just with Leah, G, Cas, and Rin annoying me till I get better.