Walking across the ceiling of the cafeteria, I stumbled upon another "lucky soul." A guy was just lying on the ceiling, arms spread wide, staring down at the scurrying students below.

  "Don't sweat it," he tossed at me lazily. "This is the best way."

  I realized one important detail: the food magic only worked inside the Academy buildings. As soon as I managed to crawl to a window and jump outside, gravity flipped its switch, and I stood firmly on the ground again.

  Crossing the road, I approached my dormitory. The moment I stepped over the threshold, I felt something was off. I was walking normally, but every other student in the hall... they were all walking on the ceiling.

  It turned out the building had decided to swap gravity once again. Now, for all "normal" people, down had become up. But for me, the side effect of the blue berries acted like a fuse. My personal gravity came into conflict with the building's gravity, and as a result, I was the only one walking on the floor.

  "Hmm," I thought. "Magical indigestion has its perks."

  I went up to my room, 404. I pushed the door open and froze. The Dragonkin was sitting on the floor. In a normal position.

  "Hey," I looked closer. "How are you holding on? Theoretically, you should be examining the patterns on the ceiling right now."

  I stepped closer and saw that my roommate had simply driven his long claws into the stone floor tiles, anchoring himself firmly in place. Without turning around, the white-haired guy croaked:

  "Why are you walking normally?"

  "Ate at the wrong time," I shrugged, tossing off my jacket.

  "Lucky," the Dragonkin replied. "I saw a kid who also had a poorly timed snack. His legs gave out for three hours. Right in the middle of the stairs. It was a pathetic sight."

  I collapsed onto the bed. The springs creaked gratefully. My roommate cracked one yellow eye open, scanning my appearance.

  "Did you... get into a fight or something?"

  He scanned my uniform: a hole in the knee, a torn elbow, a couple of scorch marks from fire. And, of course, the mask—a long crack running across the entire right half.

  "Well... you could say that," I dodged the question. "A small exchange of opinions in the gym."

  I reached for the strings, removed the cracked mask, and carelessly tossed it onto the shelf. But the moment I let go, the mask—unburdened by my "side effects"—joyfully soared upward and slapped against the ceiling, remaining stuck there.

  "Go to hell," I muttered, addressing the mask.

  I closed my eyes. The heat from the floor where the Dragonkin sat slowly warmed the room. Exhaustion hit me like a heavy slab. I suppose the first day at the new Academy went... productively.

  Sleep.

  I flew into the classroom, skipping happily as I went. I made it at the very last second—one more minute and the door would have locked, cutting me off from my rightful portion of boredom. I plopped into the chair next to Kael.

  My brother slowly turned his head. His eyes went wide, and his quill froze over his notebook. "Sister... is that you? Did you fall into a meat grinder?"

  He began to inspect me meticulously, and with every passing second, his face grew darker. "Why are your clothes scorched? And the gloves, Alastia?! Look at your gloves! They’re full of holes, the seams are all ripped... Do you realize you could have killed someone?! You know how your contact works!"

  I yawned lazily, covering my mouth with my palm. "Oh, don't worry so much, brother. No one died. I just... learned a bit more about that man in the mask. Our combat magic classes overlapped, so we 'exchanged experiences'."

  Kael turned deathly pale. "He did this to you?!" He started to rise from his chair, clearly planning to go and restore justice.

  "Oh, sit down, don't get worked up," I pulled him back by the sleeve. "He wasn't even fighting seriously. Just warming up."

  Inside, I was still buzzing from the recent fight. My strikes... I put so much mana into them that an ordinary knight would have disintegrated. But on him—nothing. Only his clothes suffered. Greg himself took my attacks with an expression as if it were merely raining on him.

  And that look... When I landed a solid hit on his jaw, he didn't get angry. He just looked at my face—long and searchingly.

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  "Alastia?" Kael's voice pulled me from my thoughts. My brother was looking at me with undisguised suspicion. "Is everything really okay with you? You have this... moronic look on your face."

  He frowned and pointed at the door. "March to your room. Change immediately. You know what will happen if you accidentally touch another student right now without proper protection. Do you want to cause mass annihilation?"

  "Oh, come on, brother..." I tried to argue, but Kael looked at me so sternly that I decided not to push my luck.

  Alright, alright. I raised my hand. "Teacher, may I be excused? I... need to clean myself up."

  "Yes, of course," the instructor nodded, not even looking up from his textbook. I walked out of the classroom.

  I walked down the corridor, replaying every moment of our fight in my head. His frozen gaze when my fist met his jaw was still etched before my eyes. I raised my left hand and looked at the glove. The smile slowly slid off my face.

  There were ragged holes over the knuckles of my index finger and pinky. The fabric simply couldn't withstand the pressure and burst.

  "Did I..." I whispered, stopping in the middle of the empty corridor. "Did I actually touch him?"

  Skin to skin. Direct contact. It didn't make sense. Nothing happened to him. He didn't crumble into dust, his flesh didn't begin to decay, he didn't even flinch in pain. He just stood there and looked at me.

  I broke into a run. I burst into my room, stripped off the ruined uniform in seconds, and pulled on fresh clothes. Мои пальцы were trembling as I tightened my new gloves. The whole time, one thought pounded in my head: "Did I touch him or not? Was there contact?"

  Entering the class again, I plopped into my seat, completely lost in thought. I tried to reconstruct the image down to the millimeter.

  "Listen," Kael brought me out of my stupor, leaning close to my ear. "How strong is he really? Your assessment."

  I thought for a moment, staring into the void in front of me. "Well..." I drawled. "Probably like Grandma. In her best years."

  Kael jerked around, nearly knocking over his chair. "Are you serious?" He looked at me as if I had just confessed my love.

  "Well... yeah. And maybe even stronger."

  My brother glanced at me with unconcealed alarm. "Alastia, are you sure? Stronger than her? Do you understand what level you're talking about?"

  He fell silent, peering into my face. "Alastia, why are you grinning like that? Your face right now is... terrifying."

  I didn't answer. I just gave myself a devious little smile. I know. Now I know exactly what to do. A Plan began to form in my head.

  I woke up because my floor decided to relocate. Normal business: yesterday it was the fourth, today it was the third. The Dragonkin was already silently packing his things, preparing to leave, while I tried to pull my own thoughts together.

  The side effects of the blue berries had worn off. I looked in the mirror: cracked mask, clothes in tatters after yesterday's stroll through the gym.

  "Whatever," I muttered. I pulled on the mask and stepped into the corridor.

  What was the first lesson? I pulled out the paper. Empty. The schedule in this hole lives its own life. I had to trudge to the first building to the main board.

  "Hey, board. Give me my list for today." A slip of paper flew out from the depths of the wood. I unfolded it. There were only two words written there: "Where is 'please'?"

  I sighed. "Please, oh Great Plywood, give me my schedule." A slip flew out. I grabbed it—it was yesterday's. "Please, give me TODAY'S schedule."

  Finally, I had the correct list in my hands. The first item was: "Proper Reading."

  "What?" I scratched the back of my head. "I know how to read. Is it even worth going?"

  Fine, I'll go once. Purely for the sake of propriety. I found the right room. I pulled the handle. Behind the door was another door. Then another. And another.

  "Oh, you've got to be kidding me..." I simply yanked the fourth door upward and finally found myself in the classroom.

  I walked down the aisle, hoping to tuck myself away in the furthest corner, but as soon as I drew level with the first row, someone's hand gripped my sleeve with an iron hold. Alexia. With one sharp motion, she yanked me toward her, forcing me to sit next to her.

  "Why are you so disheveled?" she whispered, looking over my rags and cracked mask. She unceremoniously wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned in close, her breath scorching my ear. "Are you... avoiding us, Greg?"

  "No-no-no," I mumbled, feeling her fingers tighten on the back of my head.

  "Good," she squeezed a little harder. A gold coin flew out of her pocket. "Buy yourself a new uniform. Or at least stitch up this disgrace."

  She tossed the gold upward. Without thinking, I caught the coin with my mouth—a pure "lapdog" reflex, beaten into me by her upbringing. Alexia turned my face toward her.

  "Be a good boy, Greg." Her palm covered the crown of my head. She slowly, almost tenderly, ran her hand through my hair. Everything inside me tightened. That same feeling, a treacherous warmth, spread through my body. I felt a ridiculous, animalistic thirst wake up inside me: "More... please, don't take your hand away."

  She smiled, reading it in my eyes, and abruptly pulled away. The bell rang. Alexia leaned close to the edge of the mask and whispered:

  "Greg, why are you frozen? Sit up straight. Class is starting."

  I stood up and trudged to my seat on stiff legs. There was a buzzing in my head, and the cold taste of gold on my lips.

  "Oh, Kael, look! It's him!" I was about to wave to Greg when I suddenly froze.

  Some "red-eye" (I think the one called Alexia) unceremoniously snatched him by the sleeve. And what happened next made me forget how to breathe.

  She hugged him. Started whispering something in his ear. And then... she threw him a coin, and he caught it with his mouth. Like a damn dog!

  "He’s acting like a submissive little puppy..." I hissed, feeling an inexplicable anger boiling up inside. "She's openly manipulating him. And he... he seems to like it?"

  "Alastia," Kael glanced at me, "why are you so worked up? It's a pathetic sight, I agree. A typical slave."

  I wasn't listening. I was looking at Greg. At that very "man from the fairy tales" who was tearing up the gym with lightning yesterday, and today is melting from a single touch from this girl.

  "Hey, Alastia," Kael smirked. "Why are your ears so red?" "What do you mean?" I spun around to face my brother. "Exactly that. They're glowing so hot you could heat tea on them."

  I frowned and buried my face in my notebook, clutching my quill so hard it let out a pitiful crack. "It's just stuffy in the classroom, brother. Very stuffy."