Morning sunlight spilled across the wooden floor of the Kinohutsu household, warming the small hall with a calm, golden glow. The house was silent, except for the soft clinking of utensils as Hana arranged breakfast on the table.
"Hurry up and wake Rien!" she called from downstairs, her voice carrying the firmness of a general commanding troops.
Keijo rubbed his eyes, staring up the stairs with dread.
"I don't think he's getting up from that," he muttered, scratching his head.
But before Hana could scold him—
Soft footsteps echoed.
Rien walked down the stairs, half-awake, rubbing his eyes like a cat pulled out of sleep. His hair was slightly messy, his expression calm — almost too calm for someone who had a school test today.
"Good morning," he said with a lazy yawn.
Hana clapped happily, instantly brightening. "Good! You're on time. If you oversleep, you'll miss your test."
Rien blinked slowly. "I won't miss it."
He turned back to his room and returned within a minute — dressed neatly, tie straight, hair fixed, expression unreadable.
He sat at the table and lifted a slice of warm bread. The steam from Hana's tea rose quietly beside him.
"Are you prepared for your school test?" Hana asked gently, leaning forward.
Rien gave a tiny, almost invisible smile.
"Yes."
Keijo sat across from him, watching carefully.
"Hey—don't overdo anything today, alright? Don't break the ground. Or the teachers. Or the—"
Rien's eyes slowly shifted toward him.
"I am going to a school test. Not a battlefield."
Keijo coughed. "Right. Just… making sure."
Rien finished his tea, stood up, and picked up his bag.
"I'm leaving."
Hana immediately stepped forward to adjust his collar.
"Be safe. And maybe… make a friend or two?"
Keijo pointed dramatically.
"And don't teleport away when I'm talking—"
Pop.
Rien vanished.
Keijo froze, arm still raised.
"…He hates me."
Hana laughed. "You'll survive."
At School
The school courtyard was already bursting with chaotic energy. Students summoned practice orbs, flamed up sparks, or argued loudly over who had better CE control.
Kuto spotted Rien instantly and waved both arms wildly.
"Rien! Yo! I'm over here!"
Rien walked toward him with quiet steps. "Morning."
Kuto grinned wide. "Ready for the test?"
"Yes."
He tilted his head slightly. "Do you know what today's test is about?"
Kuto shrugged. "No idea! But apparently it's big."
Rien blinked. "You're confident, yet uninformed."
"That's the spirit!" Kuto laughed.
Rien looked at him as if observing a new species.
Class
When the teacher entered, the atmosphere shifted.
He cleared his throat with exaggerated seriousness.
"Everyone. Outside. The test begins now."
Students followed him to the open training field — a large ground surrounded by cracked stone pillars, CE marks, and protective barriers that had clearly broken many times before.
The teacher turned dramatically.
"Today's test is simple. Release your cosmic energy. Whoever releases the most and controls it well… passes. Those who lose control…" he pointed at the ambulance tent nearby, "well… you know."
Several students gulped.
Instantly, everyone sat down and began focusing. Sparks crackled. Air vibrated. Some students shouted; others trembled.
One kid fainted before even starting.
Rien stood quietly, hands behind his back.
Kuto nudged him.
"So? How do I look? Strong, right?"
Rien didn't even look.
"Focus."
"Oh, come on— I totally got this."
He lifted both hands and forced a massive burst of CE outward.
The air twisted.
Particles spiraled.
Energy clashed violently in the air.
A huge glowing sphere formed above them — unstable, spinning like a miniature sun having a tantrum.
Students screamed.
"WHAT IS THAT?!"
Kuto panicked, pointing upward.
"R-Rien?! THAT'S NOT NORMAL, RIGHT?!"
Rien looked up calmly.
"It's a Cosmic Spear. A sphere formed when you release energy beyond your refinement limit."
He tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"The CE particles inside are crashing against each other. Once internal collision reaches maximum density with no stabilizing force…"
Kuto's face drained of color.
"It explodes? IT EXPLODES, RIGHT?!"
Rien nodded.
"Yes. It explodes."
Kuto grabbed Rien's shirt tightly.
"WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE! DO SOMETHING!"
Rien calmly lifted one hand and freed himself from Kuto's grip.
"There's nothing I can't do."
"THEN DO IT NOW!"
Rien looked up again.
Then—
Time stopped.
Completely.
Students froze mid-scream.
Dust stopped midair.
The unstable sphere froze like a paused explosion.
Even the wind hung still, unable to move.
Kuto trembled.
"D-Did you just stop time…?"
Rien didn't respond.
Instead, he raised his hand.
Absolute Null.
Darkness swallowed the entire school grounds — not a destructive dark, but a silent one. A space without movement, without noise, without reality.
Rien spoke softly.
"Kuto."
"Y-Yeah?!"
"Now we destroy it."
Kuto's jaw dropped.
"DESTROY?! Isn't the plan supposed to be… NOT DYING?!"
Rien shrugged slightly.
"I want to see what happens when cosmic particles collide under Absolute Null."
Then—
The sphere detonated.
A massive burst of light expanded outward.
But instead of destroying everything — the explosion slowed, crawling through the air like thick honey.
"H-How…" Kuto whispered.
Rien answered calmly.
"I lowered the blast speed. Now it can't spread."
He raised his hand.
The explosion bent toward him, sucked in like water spiraling into a drain.
The light dimmed.
The particles dissolved.
The sphere vanished entirely — absorbed into Rien's palm.
Kuto's mouth hung open.
"A-Are you even human…?"
Rien snapped his fingers.
Absolute Null vanished.
Time reversed fifteen minutes.
The test ground restored.
Students regained motion, unaware of anything.
The sphere had never formed in this timeline.
Only Rien and Kuto remained aware.
The teacher clapped loudly.
"Alright! Everyone get ready for the test!"
Kuto stared at Rien like seeing a cosmic god.
"You… you REALLY reversed time."
Rien simply walked back to his place.
The teacher smacked Kuto's head.
"Quit talking and start focusing!"
Kuto winced.
Rien didn't react.
The world resumed its peaceful routine — unaware that it had been saved from annihilation by a boy who simply didn't want to be late for class.