11:AM, Jyorta was in a state of deep sleep, his eyebrows moved up and down, the tip of his nose line expanded and constricted, his lips trembling. He seemed to be experiencing a bad dream.

Jyorta found himself seated within a classroom, listening to a boring lecture. A familiar figure stood before the whiteboard, scribbling something, the contents masked by her body. He could only see her back, her face obscured under a shadow, shielded from his line of sight.

Suddenly, followed by an ear-piercing sound, the figure moved sideways, showcasing the word 'Murderer', written in his native language 'Tamil'.

Jyorta heard a cacophony of noises, noticing his classmates appear around him, encircling him. He noticed their faces obscured by a shadow, as if their faces had been erased. Though, he could determine their identities judging by their figure and body language.

"Murderer!" The crowd shouted, their voice chorus. Jyorta tried to stand up, wanting to raise his voice but was unable to control his body. He then felt his body relaxing on the seat, as if enjoying the chorus.

"Murderer!" They shouted, 30 voices filled the surroundings, the sounds echoing across the classroom, amplified by their voices. They shouted the same word, separated by harmonised gaps, the frequency resonating through his body, awakening something from within him.

The crowd parted way, allowing the teacher to walk forward, her shadowed face morphing. Granules like mosaic appeared on the shadow, the lines of white and grey intermixing to produce a chaotic feeling, morphing into scales that covered the rest of her body, making her ensume the very same figure when she lost control.

"Hahahaha!" Carefree laughter resounded from him, the tone bereft of emotions. Jyorta stood up, feeling his line of sight proceed way taller than his usual, almost touching the ceiling.

He brought his hand forward, displaying sharp claws on the otherwise overgrown hand, possessing a thumb and two fingers, lacking a humanoid feeling. With a swipe of his hand, the teacher had her body shredded into 3 pieces, dissolving into smoke.

He then lifted his leg, transformed into a behemoth, becoming a stump wider than the surrounding students. With a stomp, 3-4 students were squished, their bodies dissolving into black smoke.

Jyorta continued with his attacks, annihilating every figure present in the classroom, leaving him behind, the sole living being. The classroom immediately turned vacant, the whiteboard, tables, benches, books, etc. all disappeared, replaced by walls of white.

The dimensions of the white-walled room were the same as that of his classroom, having a single door on one side, its size big enough to fit his gigantic body. Jyorta walked towards it, unable to control his body, his destination apparent.

The giant turned the knob of the door, feeling it stuck, unmoving. Exerting strength, his giant form failed to turn it. Raising his hand, applying strength in his overgrown fist, Jyorta slammed it on the door, the resulting sound equivalent to a bomb blast.

Despite the power, the door showed no response, not displaying even the slightest of tremors. His giant form pounded the door, the force applied increasing with each passing second, resulting in blood spurting out.

The door looked like an unmovable object, fixed in place, like the absolute rule of the dimension. The speed and force of the pounding increased to its zenith, forming a synchronous sound like the beating of the drums.

The sound rang in his ears, disorienting his senses, making his vision cloudy. By the time he regained his senses, he found himself staring at the face of the nurse, sitting beside his legs. Noticing his stare, she smiled, her expression gentle.

Jyorta felt something flowing in his body, from his stomach to the lower regions. It was a weird feeling, something he had never experienced till date. From his lower body, he felt it flow up, passing beneath his stomach, heading towards his heart.

Reaching the heart, the feeling dispersed, spreading across his entire being. Slowly, he felt his head becoming heavy; a sense of stuffiness pervaded his being. The increase in the weight of his head put a strain on his neck, the hard surface of the bed further worsening the effect.

As time continued to pass, the heavy feeling in his head further intensified, making him let out a groan, the sound muffled due to the braces covering his mouth. It was a slow process, accompanied by zero pain except for the strain he felt in his neck and the uncomfortable feeling in his head.

"Esper…" The nurse muttered, her expression hardening, replaced by a tone of absolute seriousness. Her demeanour changed, adopting a vigilant pose, her attentiveness raised to the extreme.

"Phase 3: Parasite Absorption—completed successfully." The nurse said, her voice loud, intended for the cameras that recorded everything. "Beginning phase 4."

The feeling from his stomach disappeared, same with the area where his intestine existed, followed by his heart. Finally, it seems as if everything had congregated at his head, present in and around his brain.

Just when Jyorta was about to take a momentary breath of relaxation, intense pain originated from his head, making his body shudder. Veins popped on his forehead, blood dripped out of his nose, a shade of crimson mixed with white.

His eyes turned red, the lens changing shape, like an octopus flailing its tentacles. Muffled screams rang from Jyorta, his shouts looked like the wails of a deranged person, bordering on insanity.

His face flushed red, his heart thumping erratically, his eyeball moving haphazardly, looking like it would pop out any second. The feeling of boiling water poured into his head, burning up his sensitive brain, the pain made him mad.

He wanted to cut off all connections to his body and wait it out until everything concluded. But, he knew that the moment he cut off the connection with his body, his body would no longer be his own. The Wisdom Parasite would become the owner and might very well assimilate him into it.

Jyorta struggled, trying to use his thoughts to muster his willpower but found his thoughts failing to take form, the brain becoming uncooperative. His thoughts came to a halt, looking like he was slipping, his mind steadily turning still, like a frozen lake.

The nurse infused her psychic energy into his body, artificially actuating his internal organs that were failing one by one. Every time his heart failed to beat, she would forcefully execute the process, preventing him from experiencing a heart attack.

Slowly, Jyorta found his brain slipping away from his control, a foreign invader sought to wrestle control. The substance that had converged to his brain began to fuse, intensifying the pain, disrupting his thoughts, emotions, will power, feelings—everything.

Jyorta struggled to stay awake, striving to increase the fusion process, allowing the invasion to spread faster while seeking to keep his ego undamaged. Drugs gushed into his bloodstream in copious amounts, through both his hands, helping him stay awake and resist the pain. They tried their best to ensure his internal organs from failing.

The nurse's head was slick with sweat, showing slight traces of exhaustion. She gritted her teeth, biting her lips, raising her concentration to the limits. If she slipped up for even an instant, Jyorta would die.

A beam of light fell on his head, scanning something in real-time. Numbers flickered on the monitor, starting from zero. They steadily rose up, increasing by a count of ten for every minute.

The nurse gritted her teeth, her eyes red, filled with tension. Her gaze fell on the monitor, looking at the numbers steadily climbing up, noticing Jyorta looking on the verge of falling unconscious, despite the effect of the drugs.

He was approaching the limit of the pain he could withstand, his body seeking a total shutdown.

The moment the numbers on the monitor touched 50, the nurse heaved a sigh of relief, a smile emerging on her face. She then stopped looking at the monitor, diverting her complete attention to Jyorta, helping him as much as was possible.

Finally, Jyorta was no longer able to hold on, falling unconscious. The moment he fell unconscious, the burning feeling in his head reduced, ebbing away like the tide. It abated in a matter of seconds; a feeling of coolness pervaded the region, mending the damage, restoring the order.

The nurse let out a breath filled with exhaustion, "Phase 4: Parasite Assimilation—completed successfully."

She then gazed at the monitor, noticing the numbers displayed on it, "Sync Rate is 71%."

She pressed a couple of buttons on the machine, stopping the flow of the drug, inserting a new drug, its flow slow but steady, dripping into his bloodstream drop by drop, its quantity minimal.

The signs of strain on his neck began to decrease little by little, taking its sweet time. A thin stream of blood mixed with a white substance dripped out of his nose, eyes, and ears.

His body began to sweat, the beads of sweat forming across all the pores on his skin, mixed with other substances, tracing a white hue.

Seeing the scene, the nurse opened the cupboard, taking out a sophisticated gas mask, wearing it. She spoke, her voice loud but muffled, thanks to the gas mask, "Final Phase, Phase 5, beginning."

The nurse retreated to a corner of the room, using her psychic energy to monitor his condition and actuate the buttons on the machine when necessary.

Followed by his body sweating, his urethral and rectal sphincters loosened up, leaking out urine and stool, stenching the room with a nasty smell. His other bodily fluids slowly seeped out through their respective orifice, dehydrating his body.

Mixed with the fluids was a white substance, the remainder of the Wisdom Parasite that hadn't fused with his brain, ejected out of the body by his body's natural metabolism. The process was slow; the job of the nurse was to prevent any congestion as the body fluids seeped out.

An hour later, affected by the intense stench, Jyorta woke up, his eyes unfocused. He stared at the body waste collected around him, his expression unchanged, looking blank.

Noticing that he had woken up, the nurse hurriedly began to clean all the excreta, thanking the heavens that she was an Esper, thereby not having to make any direct contact as she cleaned. The psychic energy flashed, lifting the waste fluids and stuffing them inside an airtight trash can.

She removed a couple of cleaning tools from the cupboard, swiftly proceeding to clean the room, not once moving from her spot, her hands folded. Within a couple of minutes, the room was sparkling clean; the trash can was sealed, unable to leak out any pungent smells.

She pressed a button on the machine, opening a vent at the top, circulating the air with the environment, bringing in the fresh air. Ten minutes later, the machine released some room freshener, its scent mild to the smell—lavender.

She then removed her gas mask, her tone soft, "Phase 5: Parasite Ejection—completed successfully. The Induction Ceremony for the individual, Jyorta Bone was a success. The resulting Sync Rate being 71 percent."

Jyorta stared at her in silence, trailing after her actions, looking like he could sense something moving about in the room, something undetected to his regular senses. He stared at her, his expression blank as the nurse removed the braces from his mouth, using her psychic energy.

She then walked out of the room, shouting, "Rehab nurse for room 31."

"Coming!" Another nurse shouted, running towards her, entering room number 31. The nurse sighed, looking past the nurses transporting berths filled with students, either dead or killed.

She mentally counted the berths, her expression changing for the worse, "17 students have died and only 14 students have survived. At this rate, we will lose our standing as the 4th Academy and would be pushed further back."

"Our results this time have been lacklustre. The highest Sync Rate this time is just 74%. If we deliver the same performance next year, then we would definitely lose our standing, our title dropping to either 5th or even 6th Academy." Another nurse appeared, her expression distraught.