The gymnasium was filled with tension as Ivan continued his relentless barrage of dodgeballs. The skeletal hands he conjured moved with unnerving precision, launching each ball with deadly accuracy. The floor was littered with destroyed equipment, and the walls were scorched from near misses. But despite the chaos, only three students remained standing: Maxwell, Ashe, and Rook.
Ivan’s hollow gaze swept over them, his skull gleaming under the fluorescent lights. “Impressive,” he said, his voice carrying a faint echo that made it sound like it came from the depths of a crypt. “I expected one of you to land a hit by now. Perhaps you're holding back?”
Maxwell, wings unfurled and a determined glint in his eyes, clenched his fists. “This is getting old, fast. If we don’t change our strategy, none of us are walking out of here early.” His mind raced with calculations, every possible outcome flashing before his eyes in an instant. Then he turned to the others. “Listen up. We need to work together. If one of us gets a hit, stay and help the others finish this. No one goes down alone. Deal?”
“Deal,” Ashe and Rook responded in unison, the seriousness of the moment sharpening their focus.
Ashe, his eyes glowing with an eerie blue light, readied himself. His hands crackled with the energy of his ability, blood coalescing into jagged, shifting weapons. He had already tested Ivan’s reflexes and knew the old skeleton was fast—too fast for a head-on assault. But if they worked together, they might finally break through his defenses.
Rook, his arms morphed into thick, writhing tentacles, was breathing heavily but remained determined. Sweat dripped down his brow, but his focus was sharp. He wasn’t as fast as Maxwell or as tricky as Ashe, but his raw strength and ability to adapt his form had kept him in the game this long. Now, he was ready to use that strength to support his teammates.
Ivan chuckled, sensing the shift in their resolve. “Ah, so you finally decide to stop playing around. Good. Show me what you’ve got.”
Maxwell’s wings flared, and he was in motion in an instant, a blur of feathers and energy. Ashe followed right behind him, his blood-forged weapons gleaming like molten steel, while Rook transformed his arms into massive, shield-like tentacles, ready to defend against Ivan's counterattacks.
The skeletal hands began to move faster, throwing dodgeballs at lightning speed, each one a blur of motion. But now, they had a plan. Maxwell darted forward, weaving through the barrage with his hypercognition guiding every step. Ashe, in sync with Maxwell, vanished and reappeared in flashes of blue light, slashing the incoming dodgeballs to pieces before they could land a hit. Rook, standing as a shield, deflected the balls that came too close, his tentacles absorbing the impact.
Ivan’s bony fingers tapped on the side of his coffin in thought. “Ah, I see. A pincer formation. One to distract, one to break my defenses, and one to counter. Clever.”
But Ivan was no ordinary opponent. With a flick of his wrist, the skeletal hands doubled in number, and now the gym was filled with a swarm of projectiles. It was as if the room itself had come alive, every dodgeball moving with a mind of its own.
Maxwell gritted his teeth, narrowly dodging a ball that whizzed past his face. “We can do this! Just keep pushing!”
Ashe’s eyes narrowed, sweat dripping down his brow. His powers thrummed with dangerous energy, each second pushing him closer to his limits. But he wouldn’t let up. Not yet. “Now, Rook!”
Rook roared, slamming the ground with his tentacles, sending a shockwave that disrupted the trajectory of several incoming balls. Maxwell seized the opportunity, rushing forward as fast as his wings could carry him.
Ivan raised an eyebrow. “Bold. But not enough.” He summoned a wall of bone to block Maxwell’s approach.
Maxwell grinned, throwing the ball at the ground in front of Ivan instead of directly at him. The ball bounced off the floor, its speed and angle perfectly calculated. It ricocheted up, flying toward Ivan’s head.
For the first time in the exercise, Ivan’s skull tilted in surprise. But just as the ball was about to connect, he flicked his bony fingers, and a last-second skeletal hand snatched it out of the air.
Maxwell growled in frustration. “Dang it!”
“Close. Very close,” Ivan said with a smug chuckle. “But not quite.”
Ashe’s eyes flashed, and for a split second, the gym seemed to be still. He vanished, using his ability to momentarily slip out of time. When he reappeared, he was directly behind Ivan, a dodgeball already in his hands, glowing with his own energy.
As Ivan spun around to summon his bone shield, Ashe's throw collided with the barrier, the sound of the impact reverberating through the gym. It was an impressive display of power, but not quite enough. The bone shield held strong, deflecting the ball with a sharp crack. Ivan’s skeletal grin widened. “Nice try, but you’ll need more than that.”
But before he could gloat further, Maxwell was already in motion. His wings flared with radiant energy, and with a swift flick of his wrist, he fired a single feather. The moment it left his grasp, the feather elongated and morphed midair, transforming into a glowing sword of light that streaked toward Ivan like a meteor.
The sword of light crashed into Ivan's bone shield, shattering it in a dazzling explosion of light and fragments. The force sent a shockwave through the gym, causing everyone to shield their eyes. The energy was enough to break through the barrier—barely—but the blast was so powerful that it caught Ashe off guard. The edge of the glowing sword grazed his face, leaving a thin, sizzling cut across his cheek.
Ashe winced but didn’t falter. His grip tightened around the dodgeball in his hand, and for a split second, he locked eyes with Maxwell. There was no need for words—this was their chance.
Ivan, still reeling from the unexpected blow, barely had time to react as Ashe, despite the injury, pivoted with lightning speed and hurled the ball directly at him. The ball sailed through the air with deadly precision, slipping past Ivan’s weakened defenses.
THWACK!
The ball struck Ivan squarely in the back, the impact loud and satisfying. Ivan froze, his skeletal form stiffening in surprise. For the first time during the entire exercise, the smirk on his face faltered. The class, watching from the sidelines, collectively held their breath.
Ivan slowly turned his head, his bony neck creaking. His hollow eye sockets locked onto Ashe, then flickered toward Maxwell. There was a long, tense silence.
Then, Ivan chuckled—a deep, echoing laugh that filled the gym. “Well played,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of approval. “Very well played.”
He turned to Ashe, his grin returning. “You hit me fair and square. Impressive teamwork, even if you had to take a hit to do it.”
Ashe wiped the blood from his cheek, smirking through the pain. “I’ll take it. A win’s a win.”
Maxwell, still glowing with the remnants of his power, nodded. “We finally got you.”
Ivan tapped his bony chin thoughtfully, as if reflecting on the battle. “Indeed, you did. I’ll admit, I didn’t think you’d pull it off. You’re a lot more resourceful than I gave you credit for.”
The room, once filled with relentless tension, now buzzed with newfound energy after their small victory. The air was charged with a mix of adrenaline and focus. Even Rook, who had been standing cautiously at the sidelines, exhaled in relief. The weight of the battle was momentarily lifted, but they knew this wasn’t the time to celebrate yet. They had only chipped away at Ivan’s defenses, and the real fight was far from over.
“Alright, that’s one down! Let’s keep pushing!” Rook shouted, his voice filled with determination.
Without hesitation, Rook charged forward, his tentacles surging from his arms like a mass of living, writhing limbs. They lashed out in every direction, each tentacle extending wide and fast, creating a chaotic net of attacks that forced Ivan onto the defensive. The movements were wild, overwhelming, and purposeful, meant to disorient Ivan and obscure his sight. The bony teacher barely had a moment to react as Rook pressed in, slashing and striking with relentless precision.
From behind, Ashe moved with lethal grace, his eyes locking on Ivan's exposed back. Blood swirled around his hands, taking the form of a jagged sword. The crimson blade gleamed as Ashe darted forward, aiming for a critical strike. The blade slashed through the air, seeking Ivan's spine with deadly intent.
But Ashe’s attack was a distraction, and it worked. Ivan spun to parry the blood sword with a bony arm, leaving himself momentarily exposed.
Above them, Maxwell descended like a hawk, his wings beating the air with a force that sent a gust rippling through the gym. He clutched a dodgeball, his eyes fixed on Ivan’s head. Timing his dive perfectly, Maxwell’s body soared through the space between Rook’s slashing tentacles and Ashe’s strike. His ball-wielding arm was raised high, poised to deliver a devastating spike.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
At that moment, Ashe’s eyes flared with a brilliant blue light, freezing time itself for a few seconds. Ivan, despite his reflexes, found himself immobilized, caught in Ashe's time-altering grasp. His skeletal form stood frozen in place, unable to move as Maxwell closed in from above.
But Ivan was no ordinary opponent.
Even in the frozen state, a single spectral hand that had been previously summoned moved with ghostly precision. The hand rushed towards Ivan’s head, its ethereal form translucent and eerie as it reached up to block Maxwell’s incoming strike. The dodgeball slammed into the spectral palm with a sharp thwack, the force of the impact reverberating through the air as the hand absorbed the blow.
Yet, while the spectral hand had thwarted Maxwell, the others seized the fleeting opportunity. Rook, whose tentacles still flanked Ivan from all sides, took advantage of the brief paralysis. One of his appendages snatched up a dodgeball, its tendrils curling around the sphere as if it were a natural extension of his body. With a sharp flick, Rook hurled the ball at Ivan's back, aiming for the perfect moment just before Ashe’s time freeze lifted.
CRACK!
The ball slammed into Ivan's ribs, and this time, there was no spectral hand to intercept it. Ivan was unfrozen just in time to feel the full impact, his bony form rattling from the hit.
The class collectively held its breath for a split second, waiting to see Ivan’s reaction. But instead of anger, Ivan chuckled, his skeletal jaw clattering slightly as he regained his composure.
“Now that was clever,” Ivan admitted, his hollow eyes flicking between Rook, Ashe, and Maxwell. “Freezing time and overwhelming me with a coordinated strike? You’ve learned something after all.”
Maxwell landed softly, wings folding behind him as he grinned. “We’re just getting started.”
Rook flexed his tentacles with a smirk, while Ashe wiped a bit of blood from his lip, eyes still faintly glowing. They had managed to land another hit, but Ivan wasn’t done, and neither were they. The teamwork was evolving, their strategies sharpening with every exchange.
Ivan, amused but far from defeated, raised his arms as spectral hands began to form once again around him. “Very well, then,” he said, his voice laced with anticipation. “Let’s see how far you can take this.”
Maxwell stood tall, a confident smirk playing on his lips as he took a deep breath. “I have a request,” he said, his voice steady but laced with excitement. “Let me get this final hit by myself. I've had too many hits fail already… Just watch me. I got this.”
Rook raised an eyebrow but gave a nod, stepping back. “Good luck, man. We’ll be watching from the sidelines.”
As Ashe turned to leave, Maxwell leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “On my signal… freeze him.”
Ashe’s eyes narrowed in understanding, and he gave the faintest nod before stepping back to join Rook.
Maxwell’s wings spread wide, shimmering in the light, each feather glowing with ethereal energy. With a sharp movement, he ripped two feathers from each wing, and in an instant, they transformed—elongating, hardening, until they became twin blades of pure, radiant light. The energy pulsed through the air, humming with power. His smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with fierce determination.
“How bold,” Ivan said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he watched Maxwell prepare for the solo strike. “Honestly, I’m disappointed. I was so impressed by your earlier teamwork. You were beginning to think like a unit.”
Maxwell chuckled, his gaze never wavering from Ivan’s skeletal form. “We may find ourselves in situations where only one of us is left standing. If that’s the case, I wouldn’t want to be helpless.” His voice was cool, almost casual, but his wings fluttered slightly, betraying the tension in his body. He was ready to strike, ready to prove something.
“Fair enough,” Ivan replied, his bony fingers flexing. He conjured a spectral hand that hovered above him, an ethereal weapon at the ready. “Let’s see if you can impress me by yourself, then.”
Maxwell didn’t waste any more time. With a powerful beat of his wings, he shot forward like a lightning bolt, his blades of light slicing through the air as he closed the distance between him and Ivan. The speed of his approach was blinding, and for a moment, it seemed as if he might catch Ivan off guard.
But Ivan was no novice.
With a flick of his wrist, a massive wall of bones erupted from the ground between them. Maxwell’s first blade clashed with the bony barricade, sending sparks of light and bone flying in all directions. He pivoted in midair, using the momentum to slash downward with his second blade, aiming to cleave through the barrier.
Before his attack could land, Ivan’s spectral hand shot out, gripping Maxwell's wrist with an iron-like grasp. The bone wall dissolved as quickly as it had appeared, and Ivan spun, hurling Maxwell through the air like a rag doll. Maxwell’s wings flared, catching himself mid-throw, his expression unflinching. He whipped his hand out, summoning a flurry of glowing feathers that exploded toward Ivan in a dazzling display of light.
Ivan barely flinched as Maxwell's light-blades hurtled toward him. With a casual wave, a shimmering wall of spectral energy materialized, absorbing the radiant feathers effortlessly. The light flickered, dispersing harmlessly into the air. Ivan chuckled, his deep, hollow laugh reverberating throughout the room. “Is that it, Maxwell? You’re better than this.”
Maxwell’s grin widened, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Am I?” He paused for a heartbeat, then shouted, “Ashe, now!”
In an instant, Ashe’s eyes flashed a brilliant blue from the sidelines. The world around Ivan seemed to slow to a crawl, the very air around him thickening as time itself bent to Ashe's will. Ivan's movements, so graceful and fluid moments before, halted as if the weight of the universe pressed down on him.
Maxwell seized the moment. In a streak of blinding speed, he darted forward, blades shimmering at his sides. But instead of finishing with his weapons, he tossed them aside. With a sharp crack, his fist connected squarely with Ivan’s jaw, a blow that resonated through the skeleton's frame as the time freeze lifted.
Ivan’s head tilted slightly from the impact, but his expression was more curious than pained. “You know, you could’ve ended this right there,” Ivan remarked, his voice calm, almost amused.
Maxwell wiped the sweat from his brow, still grinning. “Yeah, I could have, but I really wanted to punch you.” He laughed, the sound light but tinged with a fierce edge. “Besides,” he added, stepping back, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to try.”
The room tensed as Ivan’s eyes narrowed. Sensing Maxwell’s intent, he quickly summoned layers of bone walls, fortifying his defenses. Thick, jagged barriers of bone erupted from the floor, forming an imposing barricade. But Maxwell was already in motion, weaving and darting past each one with practiced ease, his speed unmatched. He grabbed a dodgeball, his eyes never leaving Ivan.
With a grin, Maxwell vanished behind Ivan, reappearing in a blur of movement. “Under the Authority of Rules,” he yelled, his voice sharp and commanding, “thou shall not move!”
In that instant, glowing runes spiraled across Ivan’s body, ancient symbols shimmering with a fierce light. Ivan’s eyes widened in surprise, his skeletal frame frozen mid-movement. The sheer force of the spell stunned him, Maxwell wielding an authority-type ability was the last thing he’d expected.
For a moment, silence enveloped the room, the air thick with tension. Maxwell, a grin of satisfaction plastered on his face, casually tossed the dodgeball. It soared through the air with an almost poetic grace, arcing beautifully before landing squarely on Ivan’s back with a soft thud. The sound echoed in the stillness, amplifying the impact far beyond its light touch, as if the world paused to acknowledge the moment.
Ivan let out a low, rumbling chuckle as the paralysis wore off. He shook his head, his skeletal features betraying a mix of amusement and incredulity. “What was that? I didn’t hear any reports of you having an ability. The most I heard was a rumor from Frank that you possessed hypercognition, which was at least believable. But this?” He gestured dismissively, clearly bewildered. “It’s utterly unthinkable.”
Maxwell’s smirk deepened, a spark of determination igniting in his eyes. “I fully plan to make our class win the joint training event,” he declared confidently.
“Good job, you’ve still got fifteen minutes to spare,” Ivan replied, his tone lightening. He sighed, the weight of the day settling onto his bony shoulders. “Now, I need to go have a long meeting with Frank. So, I’ll take my leave.”
As Ivan exited the classroom, his mind turned toward Frank’s office. The space had recently undergone a renovation, transforming it from a chaotic mess of damage and vandalism into a serene haven. The calming colors and tidy decor contrasted sharply with the fearsome reputation Frank had earned among the facility staff. In the corner, Bjorn Jr.'s dog bed had been significantly upgraded, plush and inviting, serving as a stark reminder of the peculiar hierarchy within the facility. Despite the dread, Frank instilled in the members of A.E.G.I.S, there was an unspoken consensus, none could bear the thought of Frank enjoying a nicer space than the beloved dog.
With a shake of his head, Ivan strode down the corridor, his thoughts swirling with the anticipation of the impending meeting and a flicker of curiosity about what Maxwell’s newfound ability might mean for their class.
Inside Frank's office, the atmosphere was a bizarre blend of order and chaos. Frank sat at his desk, scribbling away at paperwork, his arms transformed into eldritch tentacles that moved with uncanny dexterity. Multiple eyes sprouted across his body, each one flickering with unnatural energy as they scanned and processed information simultaneously, allowing him to tackle the mountain of files before him with remarkable speed.
The moment Ivan barged into the office, Frank’s form shifted back to his more human guise, the tentacles retreating and the extra eyes disappearing as if they were merely figments of the imagination.
“Everyone here is a freak,” Ivan sighed, the familiar frustration spilling from his lips.
“Speak for yourself, you bony bastard,” Frank replied with a smirk, his tone teasing. “Now, what do you want?”
“One of my students, Maxwell, activated an Authority-type ability in class. He possesses the Authority of Rules,” Ivan explained, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
Frank’s expression shifted, intrigue sparking in his eyes. “I see. Well, do me a favor and don’t mention this to anyone,” he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone.
“Why should I do that?” Ivan questioned, crossing his arms defensively.
“Well, for starters, I could easily kill you and turn you into fertilizer,” Frank retorted with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “However, should the boss sink his teeth into Maxwell, his growth will be significantly stunted. I doubt you want that.”
“No, I don’t,” Ivan admitted, his curiosity piqued. “But answer me this, what’s your interest in that child? There’s more you’re not letting on.”
“My intuition tells me he has even more hidden potential,” Frank replied cryptically, a glint of mischief in his gaze. “Trust me, you’re in for a treat.”
“Alright, I’ll keep my mouth shut. On one condition, I get to play with Bjorn Jr.,” Ivan requested, his voice lightening at the thought of the dog.
“I actively encourage it. Besides, he definitely enjoys your company the most…well besides me of course,” Frank replied, his smirk softening into a rare smile.
Ivan walked over to where Bjorn Jr. lay on the bed, his tail thumping against the soft fabric, eager for attention. Ivan materialized a bone from thin air, the spectral energy shimmering around it before solidifying into a tangible form.
With a joyful bark, Bjorn Jr. snatched the bone from Ivan’s hand, his eyes gleaming with delight. As Ivan knelt down to pet him, the warmth of their bond enveloped the room, offering a moment of solace amid the chaos of their lives.