I found my way surprisingly quickly. I didn't even expect such efficiency from myself—usually, I take three wrong turns even if I'm walking in a straight line.

  The gym. It was vast, echoing, and smelled of chalk and magical ozone. Darting around the center of the hall was a guy. Young, and suspiciously energetic for a creature living in a world with such a bizarre Academy.

  "TODAY!" he roared, over the hum of voices. "YOU MUST BRING ME THE BLOOD OF YOUR OPPONENT! IF YOU WANT A GOOD GRADE, OF COURSE!"

  He let out a trilling laugh, like a maniac from a cheap horror movie, jumped onto a rope hanging from the ceiling, and climbed to the very top in a split second, perching on a beam beneath the roof.

  The entire class exhaled in unison. Judging by their faces, assignments like this were basically morning calisthenics here. A normal Tuesday: bring the neighbor's blood, get a passing mark.

  I lazily scanned the crowd. Most students stood looking like beaten dogs, calculating whose veins would be easiest to open. But one of them... I felt her gaze on my skin.

  Someone was literally sparkling. The air around her vibrated with static electricity. She was looking straight at me. And judging by her expression, she didn't just want a grade. She was going to squeeze everything that flowed in my veins out of me, just to see what color it was.

  "Well," I muttered. "Looks like I'm the grand prize in this trivia game."

  That same feeling stirred inside me again: a mix of boredom and anticipation. If she wants my blood—let her try to catch me.

  GONG.

  She looked at me, smiled slyly, and... vanished. I was actually surprised. I thought everyone had forgotten how to do that. I felt the air behind my back thicken, preparing to let steel pass through me.

  I smirked under my mask. A sharp pivot, a teleport—and I was already facing her. She was still flying forward by inertia, swinging her sword for a strike, but her gaze was already locking onto my new position.

  Suddenly, the back of my head burned with danger. Another sword was flying from behind. Without looking, I jumped through space, breaking the distance. "Can manipulate objects?" I noted to myself. "Not bad."

  Blades began to circle around Alastia. One, two, four... They hovered in the air, obeying her will like a school of predatory fish. I wonder, can you maintain control over all of them at once?

  I rushed forward. My own sword soared up, aimed straight for the crown of her head. In response, two iron "birds" flew at me, while two others latched onto my blade, trying to deflect the strike.

  I held out my palm. Zing. A small anti-magic field, pure mana suppression in a half-meter radius. The swords, as they flew toward me, suddenly went "blind"—their trajectory broke, and they began to tumble chaotically in the air. I intercepted them with mana and sent them back at their owner.

  Alastia didn't slow down. She flew at me, tossing fireballs as she went, while ice golems materialized behind her—half-pints, angry and incredibly quick. A powerful discharge began to pulse in her right palm.

  ALRIGHT. Interesting.

  I jumped back, scattering water droplets around me. For a split second, a question flashed in my head: "Where do I know this technique from? It's like I've used it thousands of times..." The droplets, upon touching the surface, were supposed to freeze instantly.

  "Do you think I'm that weak?!" Alastia shouted. She hurled a sphere at me, but it simply exploded halfway. It wasn't a blast of force, but a blinding flash, searing the retinas.

  I instantly erected an ice wall, but she was already behind me. Intuition worked faster than my brain—I created a pillar of ice beneath myself, shooting upward and lifting me three meters into the air.

  Alastia jumped after me, levitating, and discharged a lightning bolt at me. I intercepted the flow, swirling it around my forearm, and redirected it to the side. A second later, she was right in my face.

  "Silly boy..." she whispered. Her fist, charged with destructive mana, was flying straight for my solar plexus. I reacted on pure reflex—I struck her bicep first to preempt her.

  A hard trade occurred. I managed to create a thin film of water in front of my stomach to dampen the inertia, but the impact was still significant. Alastia got the worse end of it—the force of my shove sent her gauntlet flying off her hand, landing at my feet.

  The fight froze. Both of us were breathing heavily. I picked up the gauntlet, walked over to her, and held the item out. "You dropped this."

  Alastia looked at her palm, then at me. She smiled—almost sincerely this time. "Toss it." I threw the gauntlet; she caught it deftly.

  BAM!

  The maniac teacher plummeted from the beam right between us, kicking up a cloud of dust. "MAGNIFICENT!" he yelled, rolling his eyes. "I KNEW IT, ALASTIA! YOU ARE MARVELOUS! You just lacked a worthy opponent to truly open up!"

  He turned to me, his nostrils quivering. "AND YOU, NEWBIE... YOU ARE ALSO VERY GOOD! I WANT... I WANT TO DRINK YOUR BLOOD! You are both so young, you burn, you're practically sparking with energy!"

  He inhaled convulsively, closing his eyes. "Ooh... Easy, calm down..."

  At that moment, some terrified student ran up to him and handed him a jar of dark liquid. The teacher snatched it, draining it in one gulp. "A-a-h... tastes like garbage..." he croaked, wiping his mouth. "Alright, eighty-six points to both of you for the lesson. And you two..." he jabbed a finger at us, "don't even think about skipping my classes. Got it?!"

  "Got it, got it," I muttered. "Just give us a heads-up next time if you run out of tea. Your gastronomic interest in students is a bit unsettling."

  The lesson continued. The rest of the students were gloomily poking each other with practice spells under the teacher's mad laughter, while Alastia and I stood to the side, catching our breath.

  "Listen," I started. "What's your name, anyway? I'm Greg." She spun gracefully in place, her clothes still sparking with residual mana.

  "Tell me this instead: did you come up with that water droplet trick yourself?" Alastia squinted. "Quite clever. Though, it'll only work on newbies who don't know how to feel the temperature changes around them."

  "I don't know," I answered honestly. "It just kind of happened. To be honest, I thought teleportation had become a forgotten art in this world. Everyone acts so surprised when I do it."

  "Yeah," she nodded, examining my hands. "Except you move... differently somehow." "So, what's your name?" I repeated. "Calling you 'hey, you, with the swords' feels a bit unprofessional."

  Alastia smiled slyly. "Nope. Not telling." I sighed. "Are you seriously wanting me to follow you around like a lost puppy begging to know this great secret?" "Yep," she sparked her eyes merrily. "Sounds like an excellent plan for the coming week. Surprising... I didn't think I'd meet a worthy opponent my age. I'd almost forgotten what it was like to fight as equals, without holding back every second strike."

  I was a bit taken aback by such an admission. "Everyone else is so boring," Alastia continued, casting a contemptuous glance at the class. "So weak. Waving sticks, muttering formulas... No spark."

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  I looked at her. I heard the exact same boredom in her voice. A kindred spirit? Spare me. "Alright, this is all very poetic," I interrupted her flow of revelations. "But tell me the most important thing: where is the cafeteria?"

  She smiled slyly, pacing back and forth as if weighing my desperation on invisible scales. "Nope. Not showing you the cafeteria. The lesson isn't over yet; there's a whole hour left. So... we continue. To first blood!"

  "Why are you being so..." I didn't get to finish. The floor around her instantly frosted over. Sharp ice icicles, like pikes, flew toward me.

  POP.

  I teleported to the side, raising my hand as I moved. A couple of lightning bolts snapped from my fingers, but Alastia only laughed, dodging in a beautiful pirouette. "Think you can beat me with just one element?" she shouted playfully. "Let's do this: you pick one, and I'll pick one."

  I froze. The choice was vast. "You're taking too long," she said. "You take Electricity. And I'll take Fire!"

  She didn't wait. Fireballs began to form around her; she pumped them with mana until they began to hum. Simultaneously, a "tongue of fire" struck out in my direction. I jumped thirty meters back, feeling the smell of scorched air. I held out a finger. At the very tip of my index finger, energy began to accumulate. A tiny point where I condensed the electricity.

  KABOOM.

  Her fire projectiles flew at me, my sphere at her.

  BANG!

  The flash briefly blinded the entire class. We rushed at each other through the smoke. Alastia was accelerating herself with micro-explosions of fire beneath her soles—every strike of hers was like a thermite charge. I, in turn, put a high-voltage discharge into every lunge.

  We backed away from each other. "ARE YOU CRAZY!" I yelled, looking at my leg. "Oh no... There's a hole in my pants!"

  Alastia, breathing heavily, just waved her hands. Hundreds of tiny fire sparks flew at me—upon touching any surface, they detonated. This way, that way, and like this...

  She teleported behind my back. I had already started to turn, but she appeared in front of me. Then to the left. "Reading my movements," I realized. But I wasn't born yesterday either. I calculated her next point and directed the entire accumulated charge upward.

  "Gotcha," I whispered. "Got you!" she replied from somewhere above.

  A massive fire disc unfolded over my head, pinning me to the floor. I was already preparing a final discharge to blow the structure apart, when suddenly...

  BANG!

  It all happened too fast. I was standing in place when she suddenly grabbed my leg. Teleport. We were both in the air. I felt her fingers on my ankle tighten—she was going to twist my leg right in mid-flight. I tore space in response, simultaneously building a massive discharge near my knee. Her hand had already started to twist the joint, the bone letting out a pitiful creak...

  POP.

  She teleported away, letting go of me a second before the electric shock hit. I landed on both feet, but the inertia was too great. My face jerked; I didn't have time to brace myself.

  CRACK.

  I froze, touching my face with my hand. The mask felt rough under my fingers. The mask had cracked—a long fissure running across my right cheek all the way to my eye. "Oh, for crying out loud..." I muttered. "Played around too much."

  Alastia stood ten meters away, looking at me triumphantly. The thrill was burning in her eyes, but seeing my cracked mask, she suddenly fell silent.

  Enough, it was time to end this. I was already prepared to theatrically squeeze a drop of blood from my finger and declare myself the loser, just to make this torture by motion stop.

  Alastia hovered closer and looked at me with some genuine sadness. "Why are you giving up so fast, Greg? I thought you were the real deal."

  And then something clicked inside me. That same competitive spirit, which I usually successfully smothered with laziness, suddenly woke up and demanded a rematch. "WHAT? Me, lose?! Heck no."

  I didn't close the distance. Lightning struck into my hands. If we were standing on the ground, I would have just fried her heels by running a current through the floor. I started teleporting the discharges themselves. This was high-level mastery—transporting objects through space without touching them. Alastia spun around in surprise as hundreds of sparking spheres began to emerge out of thin air around her.

  "What?!" she exhaled. "You can teleport remote objects?"

  My spheres lunged at the target. She jumped through space, but the lightning, bound by my will, followed her like hounds. Alastia braked sharply, and a furious fire vortex swirled around her. The electricity bogged down in the flames, unable to break through.

  "So, we're playing for real now?" I hissed.

  She appeared right in front of me. Her fist was already flying toward my jaw. In that moment, time slowed down for me. Where had I seen that look? Those facial features? Deja vu hit my brain harder than magic.

  BAM!

  Her fist slammed squarely into my cheekbone. The pain was real, sobering. But by inertia, already flying back, I threw out my left hand. Мои ногти (thanks to my organism's durability) left a neat little scratch on her cheek. A thin drop of blood appeared on her skin.

  I flew a couple of meters and plopped onto the mats, but jumped up immediately. All my aristocratic posturing and cover-up went to hell. I started jumping in place, pointing a finger at her and yelling for the whole gym to hear: "BWA-HA-HA-HA! YOU LOST! YOU LOST, HEAR ME?! FIRST BLOOD IS YOURS!"

  Alastia touched her cheek, looked at her stained fingers, and froze, catching her breath. "You lost, you lost, you lost!" I taunted, feeling like an absolutely happy idiot.

  A deafening laugh echoed from above. "MAGNIFICENT!" The maniac teacher plummeted from the beams, landing right in front of Alastia. He leaned into her face and sniffed hungrily. "YOUR BLOOD... I WANT IT! WANT IT! WANT IT!"

  He slapped himself across the face, trying to return to normal. "Calm down... Calm down, old man! Children, that was wonderful! This generation still has a light of hope!"

  He began waving his arms, running in circles around the ruined gym. "Well done! Simply well done! So what if you tore apart half the gym? Who cares! That's what it was built for! You showed the other students what kind of power to strive for!"

  I looked around. The gym was absolutely empty. The other students, apparently, had cleared out at the beginning of our fire show to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. But that didn't bother the teacher; he continued preaching to the void: "TWO YOUNG PRODIGIES! CREATED TO DESTROY EACH OTHER! YES! YES! YES!"

  I looked at Alastia. It seemed our instructor's screws had finally come loose in a fit of pedagogical ecstasy. I pointed significantly at my temple while looking at her. She nodded understandingly and indicated the exit with her eyes. "Let's beat it," I whispered. We moved quietly along the wall toward the doors while the teacher continued to argue with himself about the greatness of our blood.

  We stepped out of the gym. I was about to start grumbling about my appearance, but Alastia beat me to it. "That was magnificent, Greg!" she was practically glowing with curiosity. "How did you do that? Teleporting not just yourself, but objects you aren't even touching? That's a level... I don't even know. How?!"

  I looked at her with genuine bewilderment. For me, it was as natural as breathing. "I just... moved them. What's the problem?"

  I was much more worried about my mask. It had an ugly crack in it. Plus, my uniform was full of holes and dust. Where was I supposed to get a new mask in this city of madness? And how was I supposed to show my face to Alexia like this? Lianel would bury me alive for "ruining the reputation."

  "Alright," Alastia stood before me, jauntily placing her hands on her hips. "Battle is one thing, but lunch is on schedule. I've worked up such an appetite I'm ready to eat a whole griffon. Come on, I'll show you where the cafeteria is."

  She marched ahead, whistling merrily. "Listen," I caught up to her. "What's your name for real?" "Secret," she tossed back shortly. "Your name is Secret?" I froze. "Unusual name. Were your parents spies?"

  Alastia stopped abruptly and looked at me like I was mentally ill. "No, are you an idiot? Did you completely degenerate after that hit to the jaw? 'Secret' as in—I'm not telling you!" "Oh right... I'm a bit slow," I muttered. Though in this country, the name Secret would have sounded perfectly normal.

  We approached a huge mirror in a gilded frame. Alastia touched the surface, and it rippled. She held out her hand to me. "Hold on tight." I touched her palm. She yanked me toward her sharply, and we literally dove into the glass.

  POP.

  We were in a huge hall flooded with light. The smell of food was everywhere—so thick you could spread it on bread. "Wow..." I looked around. "Is this a cafeteria or a royal banquet?"

  We went to the serving line. I didn't hold back—I grabbed as many plates as I could hold in both hands. Alastia just giggled, watching me annihilate everything: from spicy soup to some glowing blue berries.

  "We'll see the result soon," she said mysteriously, picking at her salad. "Tastes good, though!" I replied with my mouth full.

  I could see that some of the dishes had magical side effects, but I didn't care. My taste buds were singing hymns, and the rest—that was a problem for future Greg.

  Suddenly... I felt my feet losing contact with the floor. Моё тело became as light as a balloon. A second later, I was gently pulled upward, and I landed softly with my soles on... the ceiling.

  "Oopsie," I looked down (or up?) at Alastia. I was now standing on the chandelier, and she was sitting below. "If you eat at the wrong time," she laughed, looking up at me from below, "those are exactly the kind of surprises you get. Also, Greg, you ate those blue berries. Congratulations: you hit the jackpot."

  "What do you mean?" I cautiously took a step across the ceiling. Gravity held me tight, but the sensation was weird. "I mean, now mirrors and doors might not obey you. Teleporting through a mirror could throw you into any random spot in the Academy, not where you wanted to go. Consider it a magical hangover."

  She glanced at the clock and gasped. "Darn it! I'm late for class! Kael's going to scold me again." Alastia stood up and looked at me—still standing on the ceiling. "And what's your next class, Greg?"

  I fished out my schedule. "Empty. That's it for today." She looked momentarily saddened, as if she didn't want to leave. "Lucky... Well, ceiling-boy, see you around! Don't fall."

  She waved at me and ran out of the cafeteria. I was left alone, standing on the ceiling with a half-eaten pastry in my hand. Well then. No classes.