CHAPTER 177: FLEX.

(A/N Big thanks to everyone for the Power stones and Golden tickets, they mean a lot. As usual, please don’t hesitate to comment or drop a review. ENJOY)

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"If the person’s watching us, I really don’t think, talking about him/her is the best thing to do." Caelum said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Right." Seris said with a sigh.

Orion smiled once — then his expression hardened.

"Alright," he said. "Let’s get out of here."

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For a fraction of a second, nothing happened.

And then Orion moved.

To his classmates, it was barely a blink — a distortion in the air, a flicker where he had been standing.

To reality, it was an insult.

Space folded.

Orion appeared beneath the nearest vent, fingers already snapping upward as mana threaded itself into a razor-thin spatial grip. The metal cover didn’t screech or resist — it simply detached, falling silently to the floor.

Before gravity could finish its work, Orion was gone again.

He reappeared high along the opposite wall, one hand already hooked into another vent frame as he leaned forward and peered inside.

Darkness.

Not the absence of light — but something heavier. Dense. Swallowing.

He frowned slightly.

Gone.

Another flash.

Another vent torn free.

Another glance.

Nothing.

He moved through the room like a phantom, snapping covers loose, appearing and vanishing in rapid succession. Each teleport was precise, economical — never exceeding his range, never sloppy. In less than a second, he had checked every single vent.

Ten in total.

All open.

All empty.

All leading into the same oppressive darkness.

By the time his classmates’ perception caught up, Orion was already standing where he had begun — arms relaxed at his sides, expression unreadable.

Around them, ten metal covers clattered softly against the floor.

Silence followed.

Slowly, every head turned toward him.

It was... unsettling.

They were used to Orion’s strength. Used to his absurd competence. Used to the way problems seemed to shrink around him.

But seeing it compressed into a single blink — seeing an entire room altered before their minds could process it — was different.

Scary, even.

Orion ignored their stares.

"So," he said calmly, voice steady. "We have three ways out."

He raised a finger.

"One. Teleportation."

A pause.

"That’s risky. We can’t see past the walls. Spatial density is unknown. Even with my distance limit, we risk partial embedding."

Another finger.

"Two. Break through the walls using raw force."

And the third.

"Three. Follow the vents. My mana sense is scrambled in there too. It’s dark. We’d be flying blind."

He lowered his hand.

Daenys didn’t hesitate.

"I say we do two."

Selene spoke immediately after, arms folded. "I’m not usually a fan of Daenys’... brutish tendencies, but I agree. One and three introduce unnecessary variables."

Daenys shot her a look. "Hey."

Orion listened without interrupting.

Their logic was sound.

Truthfully, he didn’t think any of the options would result in physical harm — Rhaena hadn’t been lying when she called them Chronos assets — but that didn’t matter.

This was a test.

And Orion Chronos did not fail tests.

"Option two," he said decisively.

Daenys grinned, already stepping forward.

Orion raised a hand.

She froze.

He snapped his fingers.

Space twisted.

In an instant, all twelve of his classmates were relocated behind him — neatly grouped, perfectly spaced, none disoriented.

Orion faced the wall.

The white surface was pristine. Untouched. Silent.

It had no idea what was about to happen.

Mana surged.

Not explosively. Not chaotically.

Controlled.

Condensed.

Focused.

Orion lifted a single finger.

"N—"

"Nova Bloom," he whispered.

Space screamed.

Not audibly — reality had no voice — but the resistance was palpable. The fabric of space compressed inward, folding upon itself, density climbing past natural thresholds.

For a brief moment, the wall held.

Then it didn’t.

The collapse was instantaneous.

A massive sphere of warped space detonated outward — soundless, blinding in intensity. The white wall didn’t crack or shatter.

It ceased.

Gone.

Erased.

A perfectly circular tunnel tore through the structure, extending far beyond what any of them had anticipated. Faint light spilled in from the other end, illuminating the newly formed passage.

The force didn’t dissipate.

It carried.

Straight.

True.

Precise.

When the dust — minimal as it was — settled, more than half the wall was simply... missing.

Orion exhaled slowly.

That felt good.

He hadn’t gone all out.

But he had stretched that long-itching muscle.

Behind him, his classmates stared.

Awe.

Shock.

Respect.

They recovered quickly — it took more than this to stun A1 — but the appreciation lingered.

The tunnel was immaculate.

Perfectly round.

No jagged edges. No debris. No crumbling instability.

As though space itself had been sculpted aside rather than destroyed.

"Beautiful," Arlen murmured despite himself.

And it was.

Spatial attacks were different from elemental ones. No brute force, no collateral chaos. They cut, separated, twisted — clean and final.

But achieving this level of precision required terrifying proficiency.

Most of them were still stuck at mid-level mastery of Nova Bloom.

Orion was not.

"Let’s go," he said simply.

They entered the tunnel.

As they walked, admiration grew.

The walls of the passage were smooth, almost polished. No fluctuation in width. No decay. The further they went, the more absurd the scale became.

Ten minutes passed.

Still walking.

No diminishment in radius.

No distortion.

The power hadn’t thinned even slightly.

When they finally reached the end, the exit mirrored the entrance perfectly — same circumference, same flawless finish.

It was art.

And then—

A shadow moved.

The air shifted.

Something big stepped into view.

He was massive.

Broad shoulders. Thick arms. A chest that looked sculpted rather than trained.

Silver hair cropped short. Calm, half-lidded eyes that regarded them with mild interest.

He wore a tight white leotard-like suit that did nothing to hide the sheer density of muscle beneath it.

The man stood there casually.

Unbothered.

Unimpressed.

Orion stiffened.

"...Zion," he muttered.

The man’s gaze sharpened.

A slow smile spread across his face.

"Well," Zion said, voice deep and relaxed, "that was faster than expected."