Kael landed gracefully on the grass of the courtyard.
His gaze settled on the table where he had sat during every single break.
He saw it vanish abruptly, then reappear at once.
“I think I’m starting to have some influence,” he said playfully.
He began walking toward the pool, but his steps were anything but regular.
He alternated sudden bursts and slow drifts, accelerations and pauses, without any apparent logic.
He crossed paths with a few students.
But instead of heading straight to the pool, he veered behind the building—exactly where, with Professor Martin, he had once seen students smoking from a small pipe.
They were there.
Three boys.
They saw him approaching with a strange gait—and in his underwear.
“What the hell is he doing?” one of them muttered.
“He’s in his boxers, guys!” another blurted out.
Kael said nothing. He stepped forward, took the miniature pipe from the boy’s mouth, inhaled, nearly choked… Then opened his mouth.
And swallowed it.
The three boys said nothing.
They stared at him with empty, black, impassive eyes.
Cheerfully, Kael resumed his path toward the pool.
He entered the building.
Walked past the vending machine.
He drew back his fist.
And smashed the glass.
He grabbed as many cans as he could and headed toward the pool.
He sat at the edge, his feet in the water.
The students around him did not seem to see him—or care. No one reacted to the boy in his underwear, sitting by the pool, surrounded by a dozen cans.
He opened seven of them.
Drank one in a single gulp.
Hurled one at a student.
Poured three into the pool.
The last two, he stacked…
Then crushed them with a kick.
Without warning, he removed the rest of his clothes.
And dove into the pool, naked as the day he was born.
He swam a few laps.
Climbed out. Still naked.
“Swimming completely naked is actually pretty nice,” he said with a smile.
All the students—and the teachers present in the building—were staring at him.
Black eyes. Empty. Impassive.
Kael left the cans on the floor.
Picked up his boxers, and headed to the locker room.
He put them back on.
Changed into his sports uniform.
And as he laced his sneakers, he murmured:
“You’re going to miss me… when I’m gone.”
Then he left the building.
The break bell rang.
Kael smiled.
“This part of the day should be fun.”
He walked toward the courtyard—the one where he always spent his breaks.
The students had resumed talking.
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The familiar sounds of a high school yard: laughter, shouting, chatter, noise. Nothing abnormal… at first glance.
But one detail caught Kael’s attention. He had positioned himself slightly farther away, observing the table where he always sat.
Jeff approached the table.
And did exactly what Kael expected:
He raised his hand, slapped the air, and began talking to himself.
hen he sat down, continuing his imaginary conversation without pause.
Kael approached calmly, circled the table, and stopped behind Jeff.
He placed a hand on his shoulder.
Jeff turned around.
“You good, man? You look like hell today.”
Jeff vanished.
Then instantly reappeared.
And looked at him too—with those black eyes. Empty. Impassive.
Like the entire crowd around them, suddenly silent.
Kael thought:
I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.
Without hesitation, he left the courtyard.
He stopped halfway, right in front of the school gate.
He stood out.
All the students wore uniforms.
He did not.
What could I do now?
An idea came to him.
He smiled.
“Ah. I know.”
He stepped through the gate and positioned himself in the middle of the road.
He waited.
A car approached in the distance.
Come on. Hurry up, you filthy creature.
The car reached him.
Stopped abruptly.
Kael walked to the driver’s side and knocked on the window.
The man inside stared at him.
Black eyes.
Empty.
Impassive.
“Could you step out?” Kael asked calmly.
“I’d like to try manipulating your creature.”
No response.
Kael sighed. Then, without hesitation, he grabbed the man and pulled him out of the vehicle.
He sat behind the wheel.
“It’s comfortable,” he said.
“So… how does this thing work?”
The man, lying on the asphalt, continued staring without moving.
Kael pressed a pedal. The creature moved slowly. Then he accelerated. And accelerated again.
He pressed several buttons.
The roof detached, then folded back on its own.
His hair whipped in the wind.
A wide smile spread across his face.
At a crossroads—left or right—he wondered:
How do you stop this creature?
By instinct, he pressed the pedal beside the accelerator.
The car slowed gently.
He turned the wheel left.
“I’m actually good at this!” he laughed.
A long, straight road stretched ahead of him.
He accelerated.
The sun blinded him.
He spotted a pair of black sunglasses on the passenger seat.
Without particular reason, he picked them up and put them on.
Rectangular black lenses.
His vision darkened slightly.
The sun no longer bothered him.
He just kept driving.
The straight line seemed endless.
Behind the wheel, numbers blinked: 180 km/h.
The road did not end. It extended on and on.
This must be the limit of the Trial, he thought.
He decided to turn around.
It wasn’t simple, but he managed.
Then he accelerated again.
His voice muffled by the wind, he shouted:
“I misjudged you, cars! You’re exceptional creatures!”
He rested his left arm on the door.
Drove with one hand.
He finally reached the school again.
The man whose car he had stolen was still there.
Lying on the ground. Immobile. Like a sculpture in the middle of the road.
Without warning, Kael drove the car into the school grounds.
Which he did.
He calmly asked the students staring at him—black-eyed, empty, impassive—to move aside.
But no one budged.
So he stepped out of the vehicle.
And physically moved them out of the way. One by one.
They said nothing.
Did nothing.
They simply stared.
Once the path was clear, he parked the car in the middle of the driveway leading to the gate.
He stepped out, proud.
“I think that did it.”
He decided to test his theory.
Next stop: the cafeteria.
Every student he passed was frozen.
Like mannequins.
When he reached the cafeteria, he grabbed eight trays.
Placed two on the floor.
Threw one across the dining hall.
Kept the other five under his arm.
The cooks were staring too. Immobile. Black eyes. Empty. Impassive.
He walked into the kitchen.
Served himself.
No reaction.
He filled one plate…Then hurled it across the room.
Prepared a second plate.
Set it on the floor.
Finally, he made a third.
Walked outside.
Sat at a table.
Placed the plate in front of him.
He stared at it for a few seconds.
Then walked away.
He said aloud, proudly:
“Let’s go to the library!”
He headed there cheerfully, constantly varying the rhythm of his steps.
He entered the building, then the library, with heavy, noisy, deliberately provocative strides.
The librarian, as unfriendly as ever, looked up at him.
Black eyes. Fixed. Impassive.
As usual.
Kael began searching for a pen. He found one, uncapped it, and declared joyfully:
“I may not have learned to write here… but I still know how to draw!”
Without hesitation, he stepped in front of the librarian. And began drawing directly on her face.
No reaction.
He drew a mustache, scribbled across her cheeks, then said mockingly:
“Well, there’s plenty of space!”
He stepped back, hands on his hips, observing his masterpiece, his white T-shirt stained with ink.
Then suddenly, the entire library seemed to vanish.
Kael blinked.
Once. Twice.
He was standing in front of his house.
The car was there.
The house too.
But everything else… had disappeared.
No sky.
No neighbors.
Nothing.
Just white.
Everywhere.
A predatory smile spread across his lips.
“I think it’s time.”
