It was a wide hall, the walls curved, concave. Littered throughout were holes of all shapes and sizes. A projectile exited a hole, heading towards an armoured individual in the centre.

The individual stood in his spot, not budging an inch. A chakram flashed before him, blocking the projectile, producing a clang. The force behind the projectile pushed the chakram, moving it by a metre.

The chakram moved in response to the projectile's momentum, increasing the time of contact to create a cushioning effect, splitting the momentum into batches that it negated using the instantaneous force application actuated by the psychic arm.

After moving a metre in contact, the projectile lost all momentum. When it began to free fall, the individual raised his hand, grabbing hold of it. He then placed his left foot forward, anchoring his balance, exerting strength in it.

The force was transferred through his hips, the amount generated in the arm increasing by a notch. With a mild grunt, the individual, a boy, threw the projectile. The throw wasn't his limit but still made a swishing sound as it flew.

The moment a projectile shot from another hole, the thrown projectile crashed into it, destroying its momentum. The aim was perfect; the two projectiles collided head-on. The boy then folded his hands to his back, watching a pair of handcuffs magically appear. They locked his hands and legs.

His body was bound, no longer able to move. A gentle force pushed him to the floor, his only option now to roll.

A Floating Spider appeared before, raising a screech. A spinning spindle—30 centimetres long—blocked its path. It had high rpm, producing faint whirring sounds, a result of the air resistance it faced.

The spindle aimed at the approaching Floating Spider, using the opponent's momentum to close the distance. Being many times agile, the Floating Spider easily evaded the spindle, its body movements minimal. It watched the spindle pass between the gaps of its legs, not feeling any threat.

The spindle stopped rotating, making a curve as it chased after the Floating Spider. A projectile landed on his shoulder, making use of the timing. The defending chakram intercepted it like before, negating its momentum.

But, the overall defence was a failure. The spindle was unable to catch up to the Floating Spider. Finally, the Floating Spider landed on his face. But before it could take a bite out of his face, a psychic energy barrier shielded him.

The scene ended here; Jyorta let out a sigh. After many modifications, the memory was quite insightful but, it still fell short of the result he had expected.

'I need a lot of Esper-related memories to act as a reference. I will head to the training hall after classes.' Dressed in his uniform, holding a notebook, and carrying a pen in his pocket, Jyorta exited the room. Stuffed in his pocket was a glass jar, forming an outline through his clothes.

He walked through the corridor, stopping before the room next to the staircase, knocking on the door a couple of times. There was no response. After waiting for 10 seconds, he knocked once again. There was still no response.

8:10 AM, taking a glance at the watch, Jyorta frowned. Haesha was never late; she had the habit of being ready well in advance. But, noticing the lack of response, he assumed she had already gone elsewhere, most probably to train and develop an insight she had obtained.

It wasn't unusual. Usually, everyone had their own schedules. They trained, studied at the library, used the Portal to surf through stuff, or accessed the myriad facilities in their academy. Whenever Jyorta planned to appear for a test, he would usually wake up around 4:00 AM and head to the White Building.

"She did seem focused yesterday," Jyorta descended the stairs, soon exiting the Indigo Building. He briskly walked, entering the cafeteria, watching the queue before the counter. His eyes trailed through the students, hoping to find a familiar face to help with the situation.

'I guess I am going hungry today,' Jyorta sighed, heading towards the exit. He was unable to spot anyone familiar. And, considering the length of the queue, it was impossible to get breakfast and make it in time for the class.

Punctuality was emphasised in the military academy. So, even if he were a second late, he wouldn't be allowed inside the class. He didn't wish to miss any class unless he had something important to do.

Earlier, he had been immersed in the fruits of his work, forgetting the flow of time. That was why he had been late to the cafeteria, even having to miss his breakfast.

Heading towards the exit, Jyorta noticed a table positioned next to the path, along the open section. Three students sat around the table, chattering nonstop.

"…we have the first hour free today…"

"…good that our turn is in the second hour…"

A smile crept up his face as Jyorta tuned in on their conversations, calmly exiting the cafeteria. He then glanced around, taking a moment to recall the class he had.

'It is Madam Mila's class. It should be in the Yellow Building.' He glanced at his left, watching the yellow building situated far away. He then glanced to his right, noticing the group of three seated near the open section, situated right beside.

With a smile, Jyorta whistled, or at least, tried to do so. He had never been able to whistle properly, despite practicing the technique quite a few times. He turned to his right, pacing twenty steps, his actions one of normalcy.

He unleashed a psychic arm, turning around, keeping it to his left. It spanned 62 centimetres in length. Jyorta tapped on his forehead, his brows scrunched, standing in thought. He glanced at the passerby, noticing their attention trailing into the cafeteria through the open section.

A couple of students placed a hand on their rumbling stomachs, letting out sighs as they proceeded along. Three students had sweat dripping down their foreheads, their gait unsteady. One of them finally couldn't endure any longer, entering the cafeteria to join the queue.

As his friends called out, the boy waved his hands, "I feel like I will be eaten from the inside out. I'll skip today's class. Tell me the contents later."

With a nod, they hesitantly walked across, soon exiting from view. As the boy grunted once, he noticed a familiar presence behind. Turning around, he noticed his two friends also joining the queue. As he smiled, he noticed an oddity at the entrance, focusing on a boy.

Seemingly having realised something, Jyorta picked up his pace. His eyes were directed towards the front, appearing dignified, righteous, the posture symbolising everything a respectable man ought to bear. His psychic arm crept forward, elongating to its official limits—62 centimetres.

In his whistling righteous pose, he walked beside the three, only separated by the walls that made up the open section. His target was a plate over which three buns were placed. The buns were stuffed with a gelatinous substance that was highly nutritious.

They were bland to the taste, akin to water drunk while fully hydrated. Suddenly, Jyorta swerved to his left, his abrupt action startling the three students.

"Isn't that our academy's strongest Warrior? What is he doing here?" His mouth was agape, seemingly of a person who had seen something amazing.

"He's here?" The three turned around in response, looking in the pointed direction—around a corner of the cafeteria, a table next to the service section.

"He's hiding behind that tall fellow." Jyorta's voice resounded, prompting them to stand and take a better look. The toppers of every Batch attracted considerable attention. Also, since no one wantonly shouted their names as they went, most people didn't know the identities of the toppers of each Batch.

Anyone who had topped was a formidable student, possessing an arsenal of knowledge and abilities. It was good to forge a friendship with them. Even getting some pointers would be acceptable, allowing their personal strengths to improve.

Saying his piece, Jyorta continued to walk. A plate followed him, the motion steady, escaping their notice. An Esper's psychic arm was difficult to detect. There were only a select few methods that allowed one to sense a psychic arm.

The first was through the use of aura. But, to use an aura, one had to be Tier 2 and beyond. The second was the domain of the Espers. Despite being unable to decipher the feedback from their psychic arm, Line Controllers were barely able to sense stuff through their domains. It was like an extension of their sense of touch.

The three students clearly didn't expect the need to use their domains normally. They were still new to the military academy. Also, just maintaining the domain consumed a fair amount of psychic energy, something early Line Controllers like them couldn't afford. That is why they were unable to sense his psychic arm.

Therefore, through a simple distraction, Jyorta made out with a plate, having obtained his breakfast. He made a turn, entered the cafeteria through the entrance, and occupied a seat away from the line of sight of the three students.

He finished the buns within five minutes, placing the empty place in its designated area. Washing his hands, he drank some water and made his way to the yellow building. Holding the glass jar in his hands, he twirled it, watching the yellow dust within move in response.

8:25 AM, having arrived at the entrance of the yellow building, Jyorta fished out a poster from his pocket. It was the time table. The contents of the time table were changed every week, based on the changes in curriculum or the availability of the faculty.

Despite being teachers in the military academy, they weren't exempt from their primary job—being soldiers. So, they were often dispatched to missions. To accommodate the classes, the contents of the time table were changed every week.

Jyorta glanced at the time table, groaning after seeing that his class was scheduled on the 16th floor. Seeing the time, he sprinted through the stairs, unwilling to be late.