For half a second the hall remained completely silent.
Then it exploded.
Shouts erupted from every corner.
Some students leaped onto chairs. Others slammed their fists on tables. The tension that had choked the room for weeks burst apart all at once.
"We did it!"
"He's gone!"
"Freedom!"
Laughter rolled across the hall like thunder.
A boy jumped onto a table and began dancing wildly, his arms thrown into the air. A girl grabbed two bottles of soft drink and popped them open, spraying foam across the room while people cheered.
Newton blinked, stunned by the sudden shift.
Moments ago they had been seconds away from bloodshed.
Now the place looked like a celebration.
Samuel slapped Newton on the back so hard his teeth clicked together.
"Did you see his face?" Samuel laughed, bending over with his hands on his knees. "I swear he looked like someone had stolen his soul."
Brandom grabbed two trays of food from a nearby counter and shoved one toward Newton.
"Eat!" he said. "Today we celebrate."
Newton stared at the tray.
Rice.
Meat.
A bottle of soda.
For a moment he simply looked at it, almost suspicious that someone would snatch it away.
Then he laughed softly and sat down.
Around them students bought more food than usual. Coins clinked against the machines as drinks and snacks poured out. Groups gathered around tables, talking loudly, replaying the confrontation over and over again.
Some imitated Maxwell's furious expression.
Others repeated Stella's speech with exaggerated drama.
At one corner of the hall, a group of girls danced in a circle, their laughter echoing off the walls.
Stella herself remained standing for a while, surrounded by students who kept thanking her.
Newton watched her from across the room.
She smiled.
But her eyes were not relaxed.
They kept drifting toward the door.
As if expecting Maxwell to burst back in at any moment.
The celebration continued for hours.
But Maxwell never returned.
That day, the whole level one remained strangely quiet.
No one saw Maxwell.
No one saw his followers either.
It was as if they had disappeared into the walls of the academy.
Even during training hours, their usual presence was absent.
Some students felt relieved.
Others felt uneasy.
Because predators that vanished often returned sharper.
By evening, the noise of the celebration had faded. Students drifted back toward their rooms, exhausted from the emotional storm of the day.
Newton lay on his bed staring at the ceiling.
Samuel and Brandom were arguing about whether Maxwell would dare challenge Stella again.
"I'm telling you," Samuel said, waving his hands, "he won't. Not after that humiliation."
Brandom shook his head.
"You don't know people like him. That kind of pride doesn't die quietly."
Newton did not join the conversation.
He was staring at the faint glow of the invisible interface that floated before his eyes.
Then, a soft chime rang in the room.
The blue screen appeared.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION.
The three boys sat upright instantly.
TASK: WALL CLIMBING.
TIME ALLOWED: ONE HOUR TO GET TO THE ROOF AND RETURN.
REWARD: TWO CPD POINT.
YOUR TIME STARTS NOW.
"CPD Points!" Newton gasped.
His heart kicked hard against his ribs.
To him that was not just a reward.
It was progress.
He needed at least fifteen CPD points in order to proceed to level two.
Two points meant everything.
"Move!" he shouted.
He jumped from the bed and sprinted out the door.
Samuel and Brandom raced behind him.
Footsteps thundered along the corridor as dozens of other students burst from their rooms at the same time.
Within two minutes Newton and his friends reached the great outer wall of the academy.
It towered above them.
Smooth.
Cold.
Almost vertical.
Other students were already gathering there.
Beside the wall lay several pairs of strange tools.
Ninja hands.
Metal grips with sharp edges and suction pads.
Students rushed forward, grabbing them.
Newton picked up a pair.
They were lighter than he expected.
He slid his hands inside the grips.
They fit perfectly.
As if the tools had been molded for him alone.
He turned toward the wall.
The blue screen flickered again in front of his eyes.
TIME REMAINING: FIFTY TWO MINUTES, FORTY SECONDS.
Desperation surged into his chest.
"Shit," he muttered. "I'm running out of time."
He pressed both hands against the wall.
The moment the metal touched the surface it stuck firmly.
Newton blinked.
"That's…"
He pulled lightly.
The grip held.
Encouraged, he planted his foot against the wall and pulled his body upward.
Above him dozens of students were already climbing.
Some moved quickly.
Some struggled.
Among them one figure climbed with terrifying confidence.
Maxwell.
Newton's jaw tightened.
Maxwell moved as if gravity meant nothing. One hand lifted, pressed, then the other. Smooth. Controlled. His body barely swayed.
Newton tried to follow.
He lifted his right hand higher and shifted his weight.
For a few seconds it worked.
Then his foot slipped.
His grip faltered.
His body dropped.
He hit the ground hard.
The impact shot pain through his bones.
"Aaaahhhhhhaaaa!"
His scream echoed across the courtyard.
For a moment he lay there gasping.
Then the blue screen flickered again.
TIME REMAINING: FORTY EIGHT MINUTES.
Newton forced himself up immediately.
Pain screamed through his ribs and shoulders.
There was no time to check.
No time to massage the aching bones.
He grabbed the wall again.
His hands stuck.
He began climbing.
Above him Maxwell was already close to the top.
Newton stared at him carefully.
Watching.
Studying.
Maxwell moved one hand at a time.
Slow.
Precise.
Never rushing.
Newton copied him.
One hand.
Pause.
Then the other.
It felt painfully slow.
But the wall no longer felt impossible.
Around him chaos unfolded.
A girl to his left lost her grip and fell with a cry.
A boy above him slipped and crashed onto the ground below.
Some stood up again and began climbing.
Others lay on the ground clutching broken limbs.
Newton forced himself not to look.
His focus narrowed to two things.
The wall.
And his hands.
Right hand.
Pause.
Left hand.
Pause.
He kept climbing.
Minutes passed.
His arms burned.
His fingers trembled inside the grips.
But slowly the top of the wall grew closer.
Wind brushed his face.
He could almost see the roof.
A grin stretched across his face.
"And here comes the end," he whispered.
He reached upward with his left hand.
Just one more movement.
Then, his grip slipped.
His body jerked backward.
The wall vanished beneath him.
He was falling.
Air rushed past his ears.
Instinct exploded inside him.
His right hand shot out blindly.
The metal grip scraped against the wall, sparks bursting as it slid downward.
Then, it caught the wall once again. Newton slammed against the wall, hanging there.
His chest heaved violently.
Below him the ground looked terrifyingly far away.
"Thank God," he whispered hoarsely.
If he had fallen…
He did not finish the thought.
Slowly he pulled himself upward again.
One hand.
Then the other.
Two minutes later he finally dragged himself onto the roof.
Newton collapsed onto the surface, breathing like a man who had run through fire.
Then curiosity pulled him toward the edge.
He looked down.
The height made his stomach twist.
Far below students were still climbing.
Some had reached the top and were already descending.
But many lost their grip halfway down and plummeted.
Newton frowned.
"That's strange…"
He leaned closer.
Then he noticed something.
Maxwell.
He was already climbing down.
But he wasn't facing downward.
His body faced the wall.
His head tilted upward.
His hands lowered carefully one after another while his feet searched for support beneath him.
Newton nodded slowly.
"That's the way down."
He moved to the edge and began descending.
One hand.
Then the other.
Slowly.
His muscles screamed in protest.
But he kept going.
Step after step.
Movement after movement.
The ground slowly rose toward him.
And soon his feet touched the floor again.
Newton released the grips and staggered backward, breathing heavily.
He glanced at the blue screen.
TIME REMAINING: ONE MINUTE, FORTY TWO SECONDS.