I didn't go back directly after class.
Normally, I would. It's simple, almost automatic: return, think, reset, sleep. A clean cycle.
But today didn't feel like a day that fit into a cycle.
Not because something was wrong.
More like… something was still unresolved.
Adrien. Dusk. The tests. And that feeling I couldn't quite label, like certain things had shifted without asking for permission.
So I changed direction without really deciding to.
The central district.
The core of the academy.
Everything converges there. The five sectors meet, different Imperium types mix, and the academy stops feeling like separated structures and starts feeling like a single organism.
The moment I entered, the contrast hit immediately.
Sound first.
Constant, layered, controlled chaos. Conversations, system notifications, movement. Floating displays projected real-time data across the air: training rankings, academy announcements, performance shifts across sectors.
Technology wasn't an accessory here.
It was infrastructure.
People barely stopped to interact with it. Payments were done through personal interfaces mid-walk. Transport pods were summoned silently through voice commands or neural-linked devices. Even identification checks were just brief biometric flashes.
Everything was fast.
Everything was integrated.
I slowed slightly as I walked.
This was the only place where all types of Imperiums could realistically be seen together.
In theory.
Reinforcers were the easiest to notice. Their bodies always carried a certain density, a grounded presence in how they occupied space. Even without visible Ixys, their posture and movement made them stand out.
Elementalists were different. You didn't see them first—you felt them. Subtle shifts in temperature, pressure, or airflow that didn't belong.
Controllers…
Almost absent.
And that made sense.
They are rare.
And dangerous.
Not because of raw strength, but because of how they interact with reality itself. Vectors, inertia, pressure fields, sometimes even low-scale gravitational distortion. At higher levels, it stops being "ability usage" and becomes real-time physical computation.
A single mistake can collapse everything.
Perfect execution, on the other hand, makes them extremely difficult to deal with.
I continued walking without searching for anything in particular. Just observing.
Letting the noise exist without dissecting it.
It was… strangely calming.
Eventually, I entered a clothing store.
Nothing special. Functional. Standard academy-grade materials.
I picked up a dark jacket. Lightweight. Durable. Nothing flashy.
I hesitated for a few seconds.
Then I kept it.
I didn't have much money. The government stipend for Mentalists was supposed to compensate for rarity, but mine was barely enough.
Level 1.
Still.
It affected everything.
Payment went through my interface instantly. Biometrics confirmed. Transaction complete.
No physical exchange. No friction.
Just done.
I stepped back outside.
The noise returned immediately.
And with it—
a shift.
Something sharper.
I slowed.
A small crowd had formed a few meters away.
Three students were cornering someone.
I couldn't confirm their Imperium type with certainty. But their physique, posture, and movement patterns strongly suggested Reinforcers.
The person in front of them had no visible Ixys signature at all.
A normal human.
Wrong place.
Wrong moment.
— You think you can talk like that?
The tone wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
The man didn't answer.
Bad choice.
One of them shoved him slightly. Not enough to seriously hurt him—just enough to assert dominance.
People around already started moving away.
No one intervened.
As usual.
I slowed a bit more.
Not to step in.
Just to watch.
To understand how it would unfold.
Then—
everything changed.
Not abruptly.
But decisively.
— That's enough.
The voice came from behind them.
Calm.
Controlled.
Absolute.
I turned my head.
A man stood there.
Around forty. Simple appearance. Nothing visually striking. But his posture didn't allow space for doubt.
An Imperium.
But I couldn't classify him just by sight.
Only Ixys presence confirms that.
And even from here—
it was stable. Refined. Controlled.
The three students froze slightly.
Not fear.
Instinct.
— Step back, he said.
No threat in his tone.
Just instruction.
They didn't move.
And then—
the air changed.
Not visibly.
But physically perceptible.
Pressure increased.
Their movements slowed.
Their breathing shifted.
Not restricted completely.
Controlled.
And then—
their feet left the ground.
A few centimeters.
No violence. No forceful motion.
Just a precise removal of stability.
That's when I understood.
Controller.
Not a beginner.
A professional level user.
Someone who didn't "use" abilities emotionally, but applied them structurally.
— Harassment in the central district is recorded, he said calmly. Are you aware of that?
No answer came properly.
He kept them suspended a moment longer.
Then released them.
They dropped back down, slightly unsteady.
— Identifiers.
Immediate compliance.
Their data projected into the air.
He barely looked at it.
— I could forward this to administration.
Pause.
— And I will probably do so.
Now he finally looked at them directly.
— Consider this your warning window to leave before it becomes official.
They didn't hesitate.
They left quickly.
The man they had targeted stayed frozen.
— Avoid this kind of area alone, the professor said flatly.
Not kindness.
Not judgment.
Just conclusion.
Then his gaze briefly shifted.
Toward me.
A fraction of a second.
Enough.
He noticed me.
Then he left.
I stayed still for a moment.
So that's him.
I didn't know his name, but I recognized the role. He teaches advanced vector mechanics applied to Ixys for third-year Controllers. Force modeling, trajectory prediction, pressure distribution, system stability under Ixys interference.
What he just did wasn't a display.
It was application.
Precise. Minimal. Controlled.
I resumed walking.
But my thoughts stayed slightly anchored.
Not impressed.
Just aware.
Everything here is structured around capability, not theory.
I left the central district later and headed back toward my sector.
The environment gradually shifted. Less noise. Less density. More space between people.
More silence.
I descended toward the training zones.
Specialized rooms existed across the academy, but they all shared a common feature: real-time monitoring. Performance tracking, Ixys output recording, system analysis.
Everything was stored.
Everything was traceable.
Not an option.
Not for me.
I stopped in front of a standard training room.
Non-specialized.
Paid access.
Anonymous.
No recording systems. No real-time analysis. Just a controlled empty space.
Perfect.
I confirmed access through my interface. Payment processed instantly. The door unlocked.
Inside: empty space. Adaptive environment. No surveillance grid. No data capture.
Just silence.
I closed the door behind me.
Finally.
I set my bag down and stood still for a few seconds.
Letting the silence settle.
Then I focused.
Not on thoughts.
On Ixys.
I didn't move.
But something responded anyway.
A faint shift in the air.
Barely noticeable.
A small object on the floor trembled.
Then slid.
A few millimeters.
I stopped immediately.
Too direct.
Too forced.
I tried again.
Slower.
Less intent. Less push.
The object trembled again.
Then lifted slightly.
Unstable.
I held it.
One second.
Two.
Then it dropped.
I didn't move.
The silence returned.
But something didn't feel the same anymore.
Not measurable.
Not visible.
Just present.
A tension that wasn't there before.
I looked at my hand.
Normal.
Completely still.
And yet—
something had already changed.
I lowered it slowly.
I wasn't better yet.
But I wasn't where I was before either.
And for some reason…
that thought didn't feel as neutral as it should have.