I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!

Ashok wasn't sure if he was entirely right in calling it force, or if there was some deeper, more technical explanation behind what he was experiencing.

But since he wasn't someone who understood the complex laws of physics or the deeper intricacies of science, he decided to stick with the term "force."

After all, it made the most sense—force was the simplest and most logical explanation for how he could move like a professional parkour expert while under Negative. Zero.

Then came the final part of his so-called breakthrough, which in truth wasn't some profound realization but more like a piece of common sense:

If he deactivated his ability while airborne, not only would he regain full physical control of his body, but he would also begin to fall—fast.

Really fast.

Of course, this came with an obvious, terrifying consequence.

If he failed to activate Negative. Zero. at the right time while plummeting—

BOOM!

SPLATTER!

Ashok grimaced at the mental image.

It was a little too vivid for comfort—the idea of his own body exploding like a water balloon on impact.

He quickly shoved that thought aside, deciding some imaginations were better left unexplored.

But now—with this new understanding, with this small door of possibility creaking open—

It was time.

It was Time for Round Two of his Supernatural Power experiment.

Ashok once again assumed the position—knees slightly bent, heels raised, body balanced like a coiled spring.

And with a swift jump, he triggered his ability.

Gravity. Negative. 2x

In an instant, Ashok rocketed into the sky, launching with even greater velocity than before.

His hair whipped wildly behind him, clothes billowing under the force of the ascent, and his face remained tilted upward as he pierced through the crisp morning air like a living arrow.

This time, he didn't just rise—he tore through the sky above the Academy, surpassing his previous altitude effortlessly.

It was only when he reached a height of nearly 25 meters above the rooftop that his momentum began to wane.

His speed slowed—just slightly—and the shift was enough.

With fluid precision, Ashok flipped mid-air, his body twisting upside down in one smooth, acrobatic motion. The very next moment, he deactivated his ability.

Instantly, gravity reclaimed him.

Ashok plunged from the sky, free-falling headfirst with arms and legs stretched wide apart, embracing the rush of air and the thrill that surged through his chest like fire in his veins.

Gravity. Negative. Zero.

His descent slowed just in time, and he landed gently on the rooftop—his body weight perfectly balanced as his feet kissed the surface with the grace of a practiced gymnast.

But he didn't stop there.

Eager to push the boundaries further, Ashok leapt up again, experimenting with different body positions—each time activating and deactivating his ability with precision.

Over and over, he tested, refined, and adapted—each attempt bringing him closer to a final conclusion.

Meanwhile, in the compound of the Aether Dormitory, the Third Years had just barely completed the restoration as the first alarm of morning rang out.

The once-ruined ground—reduced to nothing but craters and scorched pits from Frederick's devastating lightning spell—had now been transformed back into a lush, even grass field, eerily reminiscent of how it had looked before the chaos.

The majority of the work had fallen upon the Earth and Nature Affinity mages, who now lay sprawled out on the ground, utterly drained.

Their faces were pale, chests heaving, arms too weak to lift. Magic had its limits, and pushing their affinity-based spells through the night, without rest or replenishment, had left them on the verge of collapse.

Right behind them were the rest of the Third Years—Warriors who had effectively become manual laborers overnight.

Sweating and exhausted, they had hauled supplies, repaired cracks, filled soil, aligned bricks, and patched the terrain—using materials dragged from various Academy shops and storerooms.

After all, no matter how talented, they were still students—not miracle workers.

Now, with dawn breaking and their task complete, half the Third Year class lay flat on the restored field, limbs slack, eyes unfocused, too weary to even rise.

Some had fallen asleep where they sat.

Others simply stared blankly at the pale morning sky, hoping that if they didn't move, time would stop for a while, so that they can attend classes.

Among them was the leading Third Year, who had carried the burden of responsibility throughout the ordeal.

His eyes were hollow—remained fixed on the brightening clouds above.

He wasn't just tired; His body hadn't shut down, but his spirit had gone numb.

The leading Third Year lay still on the grass, staring blankly at the sky with the empty gaze of a man condemned.

He knew… he had to report everything to the Prince during class today.

The very thought made his stomach churn, and as the idea rooted itself deeper in his mind, he could almost hear the gates of the underworld creaking open, calling him with solemn finality.

The more vivid the image became— warm fire, chains that will bind his soul, and eternal real—the more real it felt.

But before he could be completely swallowed by dread, a loud voice suddenly erupted beside him, startling half the students out of their daze.

"HEY, LOOK! LOOK! THERE'S A GIANT BIRD FALLING FROM THE SKY ABOVE THE FIRST-YEAR DORMITORY!"

At first, no one paid attention.

'What's the big deal about a bird?' the exhausted Third Years collectively thought, too tired to even roll over.

But then… realization started to dawn in fragments.

Birds?

In the sky above the Academy?

A few pairs of tired eyes blinked open.

Since when did birds fly this high?

Wasn't the Academy suspended so far above ground that even wyverns couldn't dream of flying at such a height?

"Wait… That's true…"

"Where? Where is it?!" called out a curious Third Year Mage, suddenly alert, as he pushed himself up and squinted toward the sky.

"There! Right above the First-Year Dormitory!" shouted the same student, pointing with urgency.

One by one, the eyes of the Third Years followed the direction of his finger—toward the clear, pale blue sky above the First-Year Dormitory

Everyone instinctively turned their heads toward the sky above the First-Year Dormitory, and only then did they notice it—a dark figure plummeting from the heavens, cutting through the air like a falling star.

Before anyone could properly make out what it was, it disappeared behind the roof or on the roof.

The dormitory structure blocked their view, leaving only confusion and a sudden, stunned silence in its wake.

And then chaos bloomed.

"Did anyone see it clearly?!"

"What the hell was that?!"

"It must've been a Summoned Beast! Probably some First Year messing around!" guessed one of the Third Years, who hadn't even caught a glimpse of the thing but still felt confident enough to toss out the first explanation that popped into his sleep-deprived brain.

The murmurs swelled into loud discussions as more theories sprang up.

Some mages sat up straighter; others even stood, squinting toward the roof with suspicion, while the rest just muttered groggily among themselves.

And then—

"HEY! LOOK! IT'S BACK AGAIN!"

The shout cut through their chatter like a whip, snapping every neck upward at once.

This time, the black figure wasn't falling—it was soaring, shooting up into the sky above the dormitory like a launched spear.

The sheer speed made it difficult to track as students squinted, their heads tilting higher and higher to follow its path through the cloudless morning sky.

As the dark shape continued its ascent, it gradually shrank into a distant speck—a black dot climbing higher and higher, becoming barely distinguishable against the pale, cloudless morning sky.

If even a wisp of cloud had been present, they would've lost sight of it completely.

"What kind of speed is that?" someone muttered in awe.

"Just what sort of summoned creature are we even looking at?"

Then, without warning, the black dot blurred sharply—then vanished.

"Huh?! Where did it go?!"

"Wait—there! It's even higher!"

Cries of surprise rippled across the group as they craned their necks so far back that the base of their skulls practically pressed against their shoulders.

Far, far above—higher than any bird could ever fly—the dark dot had reappeared, glinting faintly in the sunlight.

"Did it just... blink in midair?"

"Damn it, why are First Years always so damn lucky! Who even summons something like this?!"

Before they could ponder further, the black dot suddenly shifted again—not upward this time, but downward, plummeting rapidly back toward the earth.

"Everyone, enhance your vision! Use Mana, Aura, or even Sight-based Skills!" shouted one of the more alert Third Years, the one belonging to the Magical Beast Research Department.

"Try to get a clear look before it hits the ground!"

Dozens of eyes lit up—some glowing faint blue or violet—as magic surged.

A collective effort unfolded across the field as exhausted Third Years now scrambled to get a glimpse, their curiosity outweighing their fatigue.

As the black dot began its descent, it rapidly grew in size—expanding in their vision like a fast-approaching meteor.

That was the moment urgency struck.

Mages quickly began chanting spells, directing the last reserves of their mana toward sensory enchantments.

Warriors, though drained, grit their teeth and forced the flow of Aura into their eyes, enhancing their vision to pierce through the atmospheric veil.

Even a few who had been half-asleep just moments ago activated perception-based skills in desperation.

But the sheer height—the impossible distance between them and the speed of the falling figure—paired with their exhaustion from the night's labor, made clarity elusive.

Most saw only a blur.

Some, nothing at all.

"I can see it… though it's a bit blurry—but I can see it!" came a strained voice from one of the Third Years who had successfully activated a Vision Skill.