The day was hell.
I muttered that to myself as I sat down with a plate of food and a drink. The meat looked roasted but tasted weirdly sweet—like someone dumped syrup on it. The bread crumbled just from being picked up, and the veggies were bland as hell. The drink? Thick and dark red, like juice pretending to be wine. Not great, but not bad either.
"We can see that," Omar said. "You wobbled in here instead of walked. What'd she have you doing?"
"Running," I muttered, dragging my fork through the sugary glaze like it had personally offended me. "Ran with my gravity skill active most of the day. Torture."
I paused, then looked at them all.
"Are you guys ever gonna come to training? Or are you just gonna sit around for the next four days doing nothing? You're not staying—we already agreed on that—but you could at least show up for one session."
Silence. Then Sito finally spoke.
"I do want to learn how to cast my skill without saying the name. Aaron, you said you have to recreate the way your mana moves to cast chantless, right?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"I don't think I can cast mine that way."
"Why not?"
He frowned. "I don't know. I've cast it multiple times, but I never feel my mana move. I can feel the mark afterward, but during? Nothing. It's like a part of me is just... left behind. Maybe that's the mana, but I don't know how to recreate something I never felt."
"Well," I said, leaning back, "the princess told me I can't control my skill outside my body because my Will stat isn't high enough. If your mana leaves your body when you chant, you probably can't cast it chantless either."
Sito went quiet again, clearly thinking about it.
I let the silence sit, then turned to the others.
"What about you, Joe? Omar? How does your mana move?"
"Mine spreads through my body and pushes out," Omar said.
"Same here," I added. "That's how most of my skills feel. Except for gravity when I don't chant."
"Probably how most outward skills feel," I muttered, then looked at Joe. "What about you?"
"Lepton Shift's like that," Joe said. "Mana flows into something and then—nothing. But Fusion Armor's completely different."
He paused, trying to find the words.
"You know that feeling right before you fall asleep, and suddenly it feels like you're falling, so you wake up?"
"Yeah, I hate that shit," Omar cut in. "Always wake up with my heart racing."
"It's like that," Joe said. "Except I don't wake up. I just keep falling. And at the bottom, everything's tight—like the walls are closing in."
He tapped his chest once.
"I'm there. Between the walls. Can't move, but I can. You get me?"
"Kinda," I said slowly.
"Yeah, I didn't understand any of that," Omar muttered.
"Don't worry. I get it," Sito said. "Describing my skill's tough too."
"What do your manas feel like?" I asked.
"For space," I said, "it's cold. A good cold—like stepping into an air-conditioned room on a hot day. That first breath? Constant. Gravity just feels... heavy. And together, it's like I'm deep underwater. Cold and pressured. Compressed."
"Mine just feels hot and cold," Omar said, shaking his head. "I got the worst ones. No special feeling, no nothing."
"Stop bitching. I'm tired of hearing that," Joe snapped. Then paused. "Although... yeah. It's true."
He scratched his jaw. "Strong Force feels... strong. Like I'm immovable even before I cast. Weak Force makes me feel... not weak, just fleeting. Like I'm fading, but not going anywhere. Still there, somehow."
"You always have the weirdest descriptions," I muttered.
"Ay, I've never felt shit like this before. How the hell am I supposed to describe it?"
"Fair enough."
I leaned forward. "I think we can learn new skills by experimenting with mana. Like, not just leveling up—we might be able to create them ourselves."
"Then let's try it right now," Omar said. "Maybe I can make something better than what I've got."
"I think Sito should go first. His skill doesn't physically affect the world, just him. So if his mana touches something and it changes, theory confirmed."
"I'll do it," Sito said immediately. Way too eager to mess with time.
"Try it on this," I said, pushing my drink forward. It was halfway gone.
"Alright. Here we go."
He raised his hand and focused. After a few seconds, nothing happened.
"I did it," Sito said, frowning. "The mana definitely left my hand."
I picked up the cup, swirling the liquid. Checked for anything—frozen time, a change in temperature, maybe reversed contents. Nothing.
"What were you thinking about when you pushed your mana out?" I asked.
"Nothing. What do you mean?"
"Try again, but this time give it intent—like rewind. Think it. Make the mana revert the cup back to full."
"Alright," he said.
He raised his hand again and pushed.
Still nothing.
The cup sat there, full...