The instructor was pale as a sheet—clammy, motionless.

  She stared at Kael, half fascinated, half horrified.

  “Can I get my twenty out of twenty now?” he asked again calmly.

  She didn’t answer.

  Another teacher stepped forward quickly. He had an imposing build—the kind of man you couldn’t ignore. He placed a heavy arm over Kael’s shoulders.

  “Big guy, come with me. We need to talk.”

  His smile was tight, but sincere.

  The students watched Kael being led away.

  This time, there was no laughter.

  No mocking looks.

  Just a silent, almost unreal respect.

  Jeff spoke up:

  “Ma’am?”

  No response.

  “Ma’am?” he insisted.

  The instructor blinked, coming back to herself. She took a breath.

  “Uh… yes, sorry.”

  She pulled herself together as best she could.

  “Class can begin.”

  Meanwhile, Kael was led into an adjoining room—a kind of storage area filled with strange objects: balls covered in grid patterns, others oval-shaped, rings made of a material he couldn’t identify.

  The teacher spoke in a hesitant voice:

  “Tell me… what level do you usually climb at? Because climbing an 8A without a belay—you’ve got to be at a pretty serious level.”

  Kael shrugged, casually.

  “I’ve been climbing since I was a kid.

  Mostly on the rooftops of the Broken Crown.

  And since I was about ten, I’ve been climbing the mountain near the cemetery.

  That’s much harder than what you’ve got here.

  I’ll admit I’ve never managed to go very high…

  I don’t really know what my level is, but I’d say it’s pretty good.”

  He said it without the slightest hesitation.

  The teacher placed a hand on Kael’s forehead, as if checking whether he was delirious, then smiled, resigned.

  “He’s been climbing mountains since he was ten…”

  “I’d be tempted not to believe you, but after what I just saw… there’s no denying it.

  Even if I have no idea what the ‘Broken Crown’ is, you clearly have a natural aptitude.”

  He paused.

  “And in other sports? How do you do there?”

  Kael thought for a moment.

  “I’m pretty good when it comes to swimming.

  But it’s been a while since I last did it.

  The last time was to pull Lucanis out—he was sinking like a stone.

  So I don’t really know if you can call that ‘swimming.’”

  The teacher burst out laughing.

  Without wasting a second, he said:

  “Come with me.”

  He strode out of the storage room, motioning for Kael to follow. He waved over the instructor who had only just regained control of her class.

  She joined the two men, casting Kael a strange look. She scanned him from head to toe as if he were a living anomaly.

  The teacher spoke:

  “I’m borrowing him.

  I’ve got a whole battery of tests I want to put him through.

  Can you handle my class along with yours?”

  She replied in a trembling voice:

  “Uh… yes. Yes, but you’ll owe me one.”

  Any trace of arrogance had vanished.

  The teacher grinned broadly, then turned back to Kael.

  “Follow me.”

  They stopped in front of another storage room. He opened it, rummaged inside, pulled out a small bag, and tossed it to Kael.

  “What’s this?” Kael asked.

  “Swimming gear,” the teacher replied.

  Kael frowned.

  “We’re going swimming? I haven’t seen a river or a lake around here…”

  The teacher burst out laughing.

  “What are you talking about? We’re going to the school pool.

  Of course we have one!”

  Kael wondered inwardly:

  What even is a pool?

  They set off and left the gymnasium, walking along the building toward another adjoining structure—smaller, but still imposing.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  On the way, they passed a small group of students behind the gym. They were smoking some kind of miniature pipe that seemed to burn slowly all on its own.

  The teacher stopped dead.

  “Hey! You think I don’t see you over there?!” he shouted.

  He strode toward them, his tone suddenly sharp.

  The students bolted, laughing nervously as they ran.

  Intrigued, Kael asked:

  “What were they doing?”

  The teacher looked at him, frowning.

  “You saw it perfectly well—they were smoking.

  On school grounds, no less.

  I swear… kids these days, they have absolutely no respect.”

  He shook his head, exasperated, and started walking again.

  They entered a new building.

  The moment Kael crossed the threshold, a strange smell hit him in the face.

  Sharp. Metallic. It burned his throat slightly, yet left behind a bizarrely… clean sensation.

  A lemony undertone—acidic, almost artificial.

  By reflex, Kael brought a hand to his nose and stopped short.

  “What is this awful smell?” he asked, clearly on guard.

  The teacher burst out laughing.

  “What’s wrong with you? That’s just the smell of chlorine!

  You’ve never been to a pool or what?”

  Kael didn’t answer. He slowly lowered his hand and resumed walking, wary.

  They moved on until they reached a strange metal structure fixed against a wall, with a large glass panel at the front. Behind it, cylindrical objects were lined up neatly.

  The teacher stopped.

  “Thirsty?”

  “A little,” Kael replied.

  Even if the climbing wall had been easy, the physical exertion had been very real.

  “After the performance you gave us earlier, I can at least offer you something to drink.”

  He smiled.

  “So tell me—what would you like?”

  Kael glanced at the machine. Its colors were bright, almost harsh on the eyes.

  He pointed at it.

  “I want that one.”

  The teacher inserted a coin into the machine.

  It didn’t look like a Solar, but it clearly served the same purpose.

  The colorful object dropped into a compartment at the bottom of the machine.

  Kael remained perfectly still, arms hanging at his sides, staring at the machine without moving.

  The teacher sighed, reached down, grabbed the object from the lower compartment, and handed it to him.

  “You really are a strange kid… Kael, right?”

  Kael nodded. He looked at the object in his hand, slightly perplexed, unsure what to do with it.

  The teacher raised an eyebrow.

  “Well? What are you waiting for? Open the can.”

  Kael stammered, a bit confused:

  “Uh… I don’t know how to open it.”

  The teacher stared at him, astonished.

  “You’ve never seen a soda before?”

  “A soda?” Kael repeated.

  Without a word, the teacher took the can back, popped the metal tab with a distinct little click, then handed it back to him.

  Kael brought the opening to his nose and inhaled.

  A burst of sweet, fruity scent hit him—bright, fresh, almost too intense.

  “That smells really good,” he said, surprised.

  He took a sip.

  A cold, sweet, sparkling liquid slid down his throat. Bubbles burst across his tongue, a syrupy texture coating his mouth.

  His eyes lit up.

  “This is really good!” he exclaimed.

  He took another gulp. Then another.

  And without stopping, he drained the can in one go.

  The teacher smiled.

  “You must’ve had a pretty strict upbringing if you don’t even know what soda is.”

  He gave a small nod.

  “That would explain quite a few things.”

  “Come on. Follow me.”

  He led Kael into a room similar to the one where Kael had changed earlier. Kael had learned that this kind of room was called a locker room.

  The teacher handed him a small bundle of fabric.

  “Change. Put this on.”

  Kael unfolded the outfit.

  This time, it covered less. Much less.

  It consisted solely of a tight, bright-blue pair of swim trunks—a shade almost aggressive to the eyes—a rough-textured cap, and a pair of goggles with narrow lenses and a thin strap made of a material whose name he didn’t know. The whole thing looked, at the very least, questionable.

  Kael stepped inside without a word and closed the door behind him. He came back out a few moments later, wearing only the tight blue trunks, the cap and goggles still in his hands.

  The teacher looked up… and froze for a second.

  He hadn’t been expecting that.

  Kael’s body was anything but ordinary.

  It wasn’t bulky, nor sculpted like a bodybuilder’s. But every inch of it looked as though it had been carved from dry, solid wood.

  An athletic physique, unsettling in its efficiency.

  His shoulders were perfectly set, his arms shaped by long, powerful muscles. His torso was clean, abdominal muscles visible without the slightest tension.

  Even his legs—so often neglected in teenagers—were firm, braced, shaped by endurance rather than brute strength.

  A body that hadn’t been built to please.

  But to function.

  The teacher studied him with the practiced eye of a man who had seen dozens of teenage bodies pass through his classes every year.

  This one… was different.

  “You’ve never trained in a gym, have you?” he asked.

  Kael tilted his head, puzzled.

  “In a gym? As far as I know, it’s mostly the work in the workshop that kept me in shape. And fighting. A lot of fighting.”

  The teacher smiled, a little resigned.

  “Obviously.”

  He took a step back.

  “Alright. You’re still going to have to put on the cap and the goggles. It’s mandatory here.”

  Kael grimaced as he looked at the cap.

  “This thing is uncomfortable.”

  “It’s not meant to be comfortable. It’s meant for swimming.”

  Kael pulled the cap on with a look of disgust.

  The material tugged at his hair and squeezed his skull.

  The goggles pinched around his eyes, leaving a constricting sensation.

  Everything about this outfit was unpleasant.

  The teacher deliberately ignored him and led him into a vast room.

  At the center stood an enormous pool, perfectly rectangular, filled with water of almost unreal clarity.

  Kael stepped closer, eyes wide.

  “Wow… the water is so clear.”

  He dipped the tip of his toe in.

  “It’s warm!”

  The teacher smiled.

  “It’s a semi-Olympic pool. Twenty-five meters long.”

  Other students were already swimming in the pool, some doing laps with little coordination.

  The teacher turned to Kael.

  “You’re going to swim a few lengths. I want to see what you’re worth in the water.”

  Kael looked at him, intrigued.

  “Lengths? You want me to swim to the end of the pool… and then come back?”

  “Exactly. Laps.”

  He pointed to a small platform about a meter above the water.

  “Stand here.”

  Kael climbed up without a word. He stood straight as a rod.

  “I assume you want me to swim as fast as possible to the other end of the pool?”

  The teacher nodded.

  “You got it. As soon as I blow the whistle… you go.”

  Kael simply nodded.

  He didn’t take a stance.

  No starting posture. No tension.

  Just… standing there.

  The whistle shrieked.

  Kael dove.

  The impact was clean.

  Silent.

  Sharp.

  The water closed over him in a controlled, precise motion.

  The teacher expected him to resurface immediately. But… nothing.

  Kael stayed underwater.

  And he was moving.

  Fast.

  Very fast.

  The teacher frowned.

  “He’s swimming… underwater?”

  He stepped closer to the edge, squinting.

  Kael cut through the depths.

  Every movement was surgically efficient. His arms placed themselves with absolute precision, his legs propelled him with power.

  Not a bubble.

  Not a wasted kick.

  No sign of panic. No visible need for air.

  He was at the bottom of the pool, like a marine animal.

  Supple. Fast. Perfectly aligned.

  The teacher took a step back.

  “The pool is twenty-five meters long…”

  “He’s not going to cross it holding his breath, is he…?”

  But Kael didn’t slow down.

  He reached the far end of the pool still underwater and, in a smooth, almost choreographed motion, turned against the wall.

  A sharp push.

  He launched back the other way without taking a single breath.

  Around them, the few students who had noticed him had stopped. Some slowed their strokes, others clung to the edge, watching that body glide beneath the surface at a speed that felt anything but human.

  “What the hell is this…”

  “He hasn’t breathed once since the start?”

  “He’s doing the round trip? Seriously?”

  The teacher said nothing.

  Arms crossed, lips pressed tight, he followed every single movement, unable to tear his gaze away.

  Kael resurfaced just a few meters from where he had started.

  He rose in a gentle swirl, his breathing calm.

  He brushed the water aside with the back of his hand, swam to the edge, rested his forearms on the rim, and lifted his head toward the teacher.

  A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

  “So… does that work for you?”