The flame hovered gently above his palm, flickering like a candle.
Ethan stared at it, eyebrows raised. "That... was easier than expected."
The fire made no sound. No wild bursts. Just steady heat and glow.
He tilted his hand slightly. The flame moved with him, obedient.
Then widened his stance and hurled it at the nearest target.
A puff of fire, a satisfying scorch mark, and the dummy’s head lit up like a torch.
"Nice." f r\eew,eb novel.c(o)(m)
He dusted off his hands and pulled more mana into his palm.
This time, he focused harder—recalling all those over-the-top fireballs from old anime. Giant swirling infernos, dragon-shaped eruptions, city-level explosions.
He didn’t go that far. But the next fireball was definitely bigger.
"Computer, prepare rapid magic-response targets. Moving ones."
Spinning targets with reactive shielding popped up from the floor, shifting left and right.
He fired again. Fireballs, fire-lances, jets of flame. Some curved. Some exploded. Some fizzled out and popped like a matchstick.
"Okay, fire magic is fun—but not as easy as I thought..." Ethan muttered, watching the last of the dummies smolder and collapse.
"But maybe I should stop using fire now," he added, glancing around at the scorch marks creeping along the floor and walls. "Before I burn the entire chamber down."
He turned toward the nearest panel. "Computer, tell the bots to extinguish any remaining fires."
[Command received. Fire suppression protocols active.]
Small maintenance drones zipped in from side vents, spraying targeted foam and mist on lingering flames.
Ethan crossed his arms. "Now then... what should I try next?"
He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "How about... thunder? Or lightning?"
Then he frowned, shaking his head. "Nah. Its similar to fire . And let’s be honest—thunder’s just... sharp fire."
He waved dismissively, grinning. "I said what I said."
He cracked his knuckles and looked at his palm again. "Let’s go with something chill. Literally."
"...Ice magic it is."
Ice magic, as it turned out... was almost too easy.
With just a thought, frost coiled around his fingers. A flick of his wrist, and crystalline spears jutted forward, pinning fresh targets to the wall like they owed him money.
"Alright," Ethan muttered, watching another icy explosion freeze a dummy solid before shattering it into glittering snow-dust. "Maybe I’m a little too good at this."
His control was precise, movement minimal. The cold obeyed his intention before he even finished shaping the spell.
"Guess being made of mind for so long has its perks."
[Time Skip — Hours Later]
The spellcasting chamber looked like a war zone now—melted metal, cracked floor tiles, and frozen air pockets from all his tests.
He stood in the center, panting lightly, surrounded by runes still dimly glowing.
"So," he exhaled, "elemental magic? Not a problem."
He flicked his fingers. Nothing dramatic. Just a simple wind push. A minor stone float. A spark of controlled light.
But then he raised his hand—and mana pulsed in a strange rhythm.
Space magic? He managed a tiny displacement spell—just enough to blink a stone across the room.
Gravity magic? A dense pull on a single dummy. The thing dropped and cracked like a sack of bricks.
He hadn’t expected anything.
But even the smallest spell had worked. A minor acceleration on a flame flicker, causing it to loop slightly longer. A stasis bubble the size of a marble.
He stared at his hand afterward, thoughtful.
"I shouldn’t be able to do that yet," he muttered. "Time here... shouldn’t even exist."
And yet—he’d bent it. Slightly.
He sat down, letting his mana settle.
It wasn’t much. But it meant something had changed after his rebirth. Something fundamental.
"The Null body must’ve formed a time essence," he murmured. "Just... not enough to anchor it."
He rested his arms over his knees, eyes fixed ahead.
"This place still has no time... but I can touch it. Nudge it."
"I really need a way out of here."
He clenched his fist, summoning a flicker of Null for comfort.
"I think that’s when it’ll happen. When I can use everything."
His eyes narrowed, not in frustration—but quiet certainty.
Just as Ethan leaned back, still pondering how he could possibly find a way out of this sealed-off reality, the computer’s voice chimed in once more.
[Notification: Physical training dummies have been replenished. Martial arts and weapon-based training bots are now online. Additional combat units are under fabrication, as per previous design protocols.]
He blinked. "Oh yeah... gave those blueprints when I was walking to the spellcasting chamber."
He stood up, dusting frost from his shirt where his last Ice spell had backfired slightly.
"Well then." He rolled his neck, joints cracking, and gave a half-smile. "Time to master martial arts."
A dramatic pause. He turned slightly, narrowed his eyes at nothing in particular, and struck a confident stance.
"...Why do I do that?" he mumbled, half to himself. "Seriously,Every time. It’s like I’m giving some closing one-liner at the end of a Chapter."
He sighed. "I’ve been alone for too long."
Then with a casual shrug, he walked off, heading toward the newly activated martial hall.
"Whatever. Time to see how many combat styles I can break before lunch."
The door hissed open, and he disappeared into the corridor beyond—half smirking, half wondering if he’d just meme’d himself again.