"Kyle, remember to head to the principal office after this"
As Kyle thinking on what Professor Miki talked, he walked to the principal office.
The principal office is not that far from Professor Miki's office.
Kyle knocked on the heavy oak door. A muffled voice responded from inside.
"Come in."
He stepped in, shutting the door behind him. The office smelled of old books and ink, warm and familiar.
Behind the desk sat Principal Agares—a man in his late 50s, white-haired with a kind face that made people feel like they were talking to their own grandfather.
But today, that comfort felt distant.
"Principal Agares," Kyle said, offering a small bow.
The old man smiled and gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. Kyle sat down, back straight, hands resting on his knees.
"Kyle," the principal began, his voice gentle but edged with finality.
"I know you already talk with your homeroom teacher. You know, you're an anomaly. A Null. "
"This is not a case we know. A century had passed since the last Null"
"But no one had a clue. There is not enough research on Null"
"The thing is ... ", Principal Agares breathed in. Quite long.
"The next semester will focus entirely on power mastery and control. Without an awakened ability, you won't be able to keep up. Not because you lack skill or intelligence—but because the curriculum won't be built for someone like you."
He paused, giving Kyle a moment to speak.
Kyle nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the grain of the wooden desk. The truth stung, even if he'd accepted it days ago.
One minute. Five minute. Ten minute.
Principal Agares looked at Kyle deeply, giving him time to understand.
"I understand," Kyle said. "But I'm not ready to call it quits. I'm asking for time—just until next semester. Give me that much. I'll find a way… I have to."
Agares watched him closely, sorrow behind his eyes.
Kyle was a top student—disciplined, sharp, physically unmatched in sparring. If it weren't for the lack of an ability, he'd be in the elite track already.
"Very well," the principal said finally.
"You have until the next term. But understand, Kyle—Nulls… they haven't existed for over a century. You're walking a path no one's traveled before."
Kyle stood, gave a grateful nod, and walked out. The hallway outside was quiet.
Afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor.
Null.
The word echoed in his mind. A scarlet letter burned into his identity. In a world where power defined status, survival, and self-worth—he had nothing.
Not yet.
But nothing doesn't mean weak.
He was almost at the dorms when he heard footsteps behind him.
A group of boys blocked the hall ahead, already waiting.
Parkson.
The name alone made Kyle's jaw clench. Parkson was always second-best. Second in academics. Second in combat. Second to Kyle.
"Yo, look who it is," Parkson smirked, swaggering forward. "Mr. Null himself. You've got some nerve walking around like you're still one of us."
Kyle didn't reply. His eyes scanned the group. Five of them. No powers allowed outside the training rooms. All muscle and ego today.
"Maybe you should just drop out now," Parkson continued. "I mean, what are you even doing here? Looking for your lost power in the library?"
The boys behind him laughed.
Kyle's expression didn't change. "If you're done, I've got better things to do than listen to second-place whining."
Parkson's grin twitched. "Tch. Still got that mouth, huh?"
He stepped forward, reaching for Kyle's shoulder.
Kyle shifted, quick. A half-step back and to the side, just enough to avoid the grab. His eyes locked onto Parkson's, calm and unreadable.
"You touch me again," Kyle said flatly, "and you better hope they carry you to the infirmary faster than last time."
There was no boast in his tone—just fact. Parkson remembered the last sparring match. No powers. Just fists and grit. Kyle had wiped the floor with him.
The hallway went quiet for a beat.
"You'll regret that," Parkson growled.
"I doubt it," Kyle said, brushing past him without a second glance.
Behind him, the tension snapped like a wire under pressure—but no one followed. They knew better.
Let them talk, Kyle thought. Let them mock. I don't need their pity. I need answers.
And he'd find them—even if it meant walking through fire