The next day, I woke up with the distinct feeling that the world existed perfectly fine without me.

  I lay there, staring at the ceiling.

  Why go to Combat Magic class? Am I actually learning anything there? Wouldn't it be more logical to just keep lying here?

  At that moment, Alphus's voice rang out:

  "Are you still in bed?! You're going to be late!"

  "This is a philosophical rest," I muttered. "It's important."

  "It doesn't exempt you from detention," he replied.

  I had to get up.

  In class, I sat by the wall as usual. Alexia immediately appeared beside me.

  "You're kind of... gloomy again today," she said, and started stroking my head.

  It was... strange.

  On one hand, it was pleasant. The only pleasant sensation of the entire morning.

  On the other hand— It felt like someone was simply pressing my "calm" button.

  "You know," I said lazily, "if you keep doing that, I'm either going to fall asleep or become your pet." "The latter works for me," she smirked. "You're cute when you're quiet."

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  I sighed.

  Just then, Teacher Elandr walked into the room.

  "Today," he began, "we are covering Psycho-Magic."

  The classroom grew quiet.

  "With its help, one can influence the mind. Control it. Bind it. Transmit emotions."

  He paced down the aisles.

  "There is a legend of a mage who had thousands of followers. After his death, they confessed that they had been entirely under his control." "Excellent career growth," Alexia muttered. "And another legend," Elandr continued, "speaks of a mage whose sorrow was so profound that darkness physically gathered around him. People who touched him would simply collapse... and weep."

  I yawned.

  "All of this is incredibly complex," the teacher said. "And incredibly easy to reflect."

  He continued explaining defensive techniques when he suddenly pivoted.

  "GREG!"

  I lifted my head.

  "I am going to attack you with Psycho-Magic right now. Your task is to defend yourself."

  He threw something gray at me. Smoky. Cold.

  I knew how to dispel it.

  But instead... I decided to accept it.

  I reached out and touched the mist.

  It vanished.

  Elandr froze.

  "...Greg?"

  I chuckled.

  "And you call this emptiness?"

  And I thought:

  Compared to what I have in my chest—this is absolutely nothing.

  The class shifted uneasily.

  "Now, the reverse," the teacher said slowly. "Greg... you attack."

  I stood up.

  Held out my hand.

  Something dark began to condense around it. Not smoke. Not a shadow.

  Something... hungry.

  Fear rippled through the classroom.

  Even Alexia stopped smiling.

  The darkness moved toward the teacher. Slowly. Inevitably.

  Elandr stepped back and abruptly thrust a bird in front of himself as a shield.

  The darkness touched it.

  The bird didn't scream.

  It simply... began to wither.

  As if time had accelerated inside it. Its feathers darkened. Its body sagged.

  A second later, it was dead.

  Absolute silence hung in the classroom.

  I sat back down in my seat.

  "Class dismissed," Elandr said quietly.

  I lowered my gaze.

  And for the first time in a long while, I thought:

  If this... isn't the desire to die... then what is happening to me?