The Alchemist's Gift
The "Combined Field Exercise" had left a ripple of unease through the Academy. While the official report stated that Lyra Ignis had single-handedly neutralized a corrupted threat, the F-Class dormitory was buzzing with a different story. In the shadows of the North Wing, the "misfits" whispered about how Matthew had walked into a mana-geyser and hadn't been vaporized.
The tension was palpable in the dining hall. Lucius and his circle spent their meals casting long, narrowed glances toward the F-Class tables. To them, the "Lucky Zero" was no longer just a joke; he was a curiosity that threatened the natural order of things.
But for Matthew, the biggest challenge wasn't the social friction—it was the physical toll. Since the cavern, his skin had taken on a permanent pale chill, and his appetite had tripled. He felt like a furnace that was constantly running out of coal.
"You're vibrating again," Andre noted, sliding a heavy, cloth-wrapped object onto their shared desk in Room 402.
Matthew looked up from the black book the Dean had given him, which he had disguised inside a hollowed-out history text. "I can't help it. The mana I took from that Blight-Walker... it feels like it's trying to turn into lead inside my bones."
"Which is exactly why I spent thirty-six hours in the engineering lab skipping sleep," Andre said, his eyes bloodshot but sparkling with excitement. He unwrapped the cloth to reveal a pair of sleek, fingerless gloves made of dark, supple leather and lined with fine silver wire. "I call them the Aegis Dampers."
The Mechanical Bridge
Matthew picked one up. It felt strangely heavy. "What do they do?"
"Your problem," Andre explained, pointing to the silver circuitry etched into the palms, "is that you have no 'insulation.' When you touch mana, you don't just negate it; you pull it directly into your nervous system. These gloves are lined with Shatter-Glass—a material that can hold a charge without letting it pass through to the wearer."
Andre grabbed Matthew's hand and pulled a glove on. "The silver wires act as a regulator. They won't stop you from using your Null power, but they'll force the energy to dissipate into the air instead of sinking into your marrow. It'll stop the 'shaking' and keep you from accidentally draining the life out of everyone you shake hands with."
Matthew flexed his fingers. The gloves felt like a second skin. For the first time in days, the constant, stinging "static" in his palms silenced.
"Andre... this is incredible," Matthew whispered. "You could have sold this to the Research Department for a fortune."
Andre scoffed, adjusting his goggles. "And let some Rank 8 Professor take the credit? No thanks. Besides, Andrew and I talked. We're in the best classes because we were born with 'useful' cores. You're in the F-Class because the world is afraid of yours. I'd rather back the guy who scares the world than the guys who run it."
The peace of the room was broken by a frantic knocking. David, the "Speed-type" boy from the common room, burst in, gasping for breath.
"Matthew! Andrew! You need to come to the training courtyard," David panted. "Lucius... he's got Sarah and Jax cornered. He says if the F-Class is so 'brave' after the woods, they should be able to handle a real duel."
Matthew's face went cold. He didn't wait for his boots to be fully laced. He grabbed his training sword, the weight of the new Aegis Dampers giving him a sense of groundedness he'd never felt before.
They arrived to find a crowd of students—mostly Elites—circling a small patch of grass. In the center, Sarah was on her knees, her pebble-manipulation clearly failing against Lucius, who was lazily spinning a ball of golden light in his palm. Jax was standing in front of her, his arm bruised and twisted.
"Where's your 'Zero' hero now?" Lucius sneered, the light in his hand pulsing. "Did he crawl back into his hole in the dirt? Maybe if you commoners learned to bow, I wouldn't have to teach you the difference between gold and dross."
"Lucius!"
The crowd parted as Matthew stepped through. He wasn't running; he was walking with a slow, rhythmic tread that seemed to draw the light out of the air. Behind him, Andrew and Andre flanked him, their Elite uniforms creating a confusing visual for the onlookers.
"Let them go," Matthew said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that made the snickering Elites go silent.
Lucius laughed, though his eyes flickered toward Matthew's new gloves. "Or what, peasant? You going to 'negate' me to death? Master Alicia isn't here to play referee. This is a private matter of honor."
"Fine," Matthew said. He didn't draw his sword. He simply stepped into the circle and held out his gloved hand. "If it's about honor, then fight me. No mana-dampers on the field. No teachers. Just us."
Lucius's face twisted into a mask of pure arrogance. "You want to be a martyr? Fine. I'll burn the 'Void' out of you myself."
He didn't wait. Lucius lunged, his hand erupting into a jagged spear of solidified light. It was a Rank 3 Light-Shaper technique, designed to pierce plate armor.
Matthew didn't dodge. He moved his hand in a circular motion, a technique he'd seen in the black book. As the light-spear hit the palm of his Aegis Damper, the silver wires glowed a fierce, angry violet.
The light didn't shatter. It bent.
The vacuum of Matthew's core, regulated by Andre's gloves, caught the light-spear and twisted it, redirecting the force into the ground. A small crater exploded in the grass at Matthew's feet, but he didn't move an inch.
"My turn," Matthew whispered.
He closed the distance before Lucius could reform his mana. He didn't use a spell; he used a simple, heavy punch to the gut. The impact was bolstered by the slight "pull" of his core, which acted like a magnet, dragging Lucius into the blow.
The Elite boy folded like a piece of parchment.
Before Matthew could deliver a second strike, a voice like a whip cracked over the courtyard.
"ENOUGH!"
The crowd scattered as Lyra walked into the circle. She looked at the gasping Lucius, then at Matthew's gloves, and finally at the gathered F-Classers.
"Lucius, get up," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You just got humbled by a boy who can't even pass a theory exam. If you report this, I'll personally tell the Dean you started a brawl you couldn't finish."
She then turned to Matthew. Her eyes lingered on the Aegis Dampers. "Clever gear. But don't think a few wires make you a Knight. Meet me at the ruins tonight. We're doubling the intensity."
As she walked away, the tension broke, but the message was clear. The F-Class wasn't just a collection of misfits anymore. They were becoming a faction. And at the center of it was a boy who could catch light with his bare hands.