The silence that followed my statement felt dense, almost tangible. In this dimly lit library, amidst the scent of old paper and ozone, I had altered the power dynamics. I was now a Pandora's box offering to unlock itself—on terms.
Dales Verneth didn't move. His eyes, once sharp and analytical, now narrowed, attempting to dissect not just my words, but the intention behind them. He was a commander, a man used to holding the reins. Now, that control was threatened by the impossible knowledge scrawled on the blackboard behind me. I could see the calculations in his head. On one side, the risk of letting an anomaly like me grow. On the other, the reward of knowledge that could alter the very fundamentals of their world.
A pragmatist like him would always choose the path with the greatest potential yield—as long as the risks were manageable. I had presented myself as a manageable asset.
"Rabbit hole," Dales finally echoed, his voice quiet. "Rabbit holes often contain unexpected predators, Welt."
"All valuable knowledge is guarded by predators," I replied, my tone flat. "The question is—do you want to be the one holding its chain, or the one who only hears its roar from afar?"
He stared at me for a long moment, as though time itself froze. Then, he let out a deep sigh, a breath that released a fraction of the room's tension. He had made his decision.
"Very well, Welt Rothes," he said, turning back to his desk. "You'll have your academy. The Royal Clockthon Military Academy, Esoteric Studies Division. An emergency enrollment will be arranged. But make no mistake—you won't be a regular student. You'll be a Fravikveidimadr special project. Every lesson, every interaction, every advancement will be monitored. Weekly reports will be on my desk. Consider yourself our investment. And we protect our investments… very carefully."
I nodded. "Understood."
"Grisa will escort you to your new quarters. Your studies begin tomorrow." He sat down again, picking up his pen as if this conversation were now no more than a footnote on his agenda. "You may leave."
I turned and walked out of the library. Grisa was already waiting outside, her expression as stiff as always, but I could feel the change in how she looked at me. The professional suspicion now mixed with something else—distrust, maybe a hint of fear. I was strange, and I was also a puzzle her superior had just confirmed was something far beyond her understanding.
She escorted me silently through the sterile white corridors. We arrived at a steel door different from the ones before. She opened it, revealing a room more akin to a studio apartment than a cell. A neatly made bed, a dark wood desk, a chair, and an empty bookshelf mounted on the wall. A small, wire-meshed window offered a view of a brick wall from the opposite building. It wasn't a prison—but a more comfortable cage.
"Toiletries and a change of clothes are in the wardrobe. Meals will be delivered three times a day. Do not attempt to leave this room without permission," she said formally before closing the door, leaving me alone.
I immediately examined the room. No obvious cameras, but I assumed every corner was under surveillance. I knocked on the walls, checking their thickness. Solid. The window didn't open. This cage was well-designed.
I sat at the edge of the bed and closed my eyes, once again turning my focus inward. I felt the space within my body, the aperture of my nadir circuit. It felt like a dark hollow sphere, its surface lined with a thin membrane of dim light that pulsed slowly. The Essence of the Void I had absorbed swirled like a miniature ocean of deep indigo. Its surface level hadn't yet reached half the volume of the aperture—perhaps forty percent. This was the limit of this child's body, the limit of my newly born innate talent. Every drop of this essence was an accumulation of my new life's potential, the distilled soul. I had to fill it, expand it, elevate it to the next tier.
Hours later, a food tray slid through the slot at the bottom of the door. Bread, meat stew, and a glass of water. Standard, but nutritious. Beside the tray lay the first stack of books. I picked them up. The titles were exactly what I expected: An Introduction to the History of the Cledestine Kingdom, Fundamentals of Mechanical Physics, Eastern Continent Geopolitics, and a slim volume titled Basic Theory of Oneiromancy.
They were testing me, trying to map the boundaries of my knowledge. I gave a faint smile. Let them try.
The next morning, after breakfast, my door opened. It wasn't Dales or Grisa. The man who entered was old—perhaps in his sixties—with thin white hair neatly combed to the side. He wore a spotless white lab coat, and his eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses were cold and curious, like an entomologist examining a rare specimen.
"Good morning, Subject W-01," he said, his voice dry and emotionless. "My name is Elias. I'll be overseeing your development and observation."
"My name is Welt," I replied.
"Names are scientifically irrelevant labels," he retorted, placing a metal case on the desk. "Function is more important. Today, we establish a baseline."
He opened the case. It contained no books or writing instruments, but a set of cables, metal pads, and a strange device resembling a helmet made of copper wire. I didn't resist as he placed pads on my temples, wrists, and chest. I simply observed the design of his equipment, trying to infer its function from its shape.
"We'll measure your passive Essence output, cerebral wave fluctuation, and skin galvanic response to various stimuli," he explained as he connected the wires to a small console that hummed softly. "Do not attempt to interfere or manipulate the process. The machine is sensitive enough to detect such efforts."
I remained silent. He thought I was his lab rat. He didn't know the roles were reversed in my mind.
For the next few hours, he subjected me to a series of stimuli. Flashes of light in varying frequencies, low-toned sounds barely audible, abstract images flickering on a small screen. I felt the machine reading my body's responses. I allowed it. I gave it the data of a normal child, suppressing every fluctuation from my nadir circuit.
"Interesting," Elias murmured, staring at the console's graphs. "Your physiological responses are remarkably controlled. Almost no measurable emotional reaction. Like a trained psychopath, or someone who no longer comprehends emotion."
I gave no reply.
"Now, for the more interesting part," he said. He pulled out a black crystal, roughly the size of a clenched fist, from his case. Its surface absorbed light, and I could sense a faint, cold aura from it. "This is a Dreamstone. It emits frequencies that resonate with the subconscious mind, often triggering dreamlike or hallucinatory states in sensitive individuals. Touch it."
He placed the stone on the table in front of me. I knew this was a test of my "Oneiromancer" claim. They wanted to provoke the drum echoes Dales had seen.
I placed my hand on the cold, black stone. I closed my eyes, pretending to concentrate. I didn't wait for the stone to affect me. Instead, I deliberately released a pinpoint droplet of Void Essence from my aperture—not into the stone, but into Elias's console. The release was minuscule, nearly undetectable—like a drop of ink in the ocean.
Bzzzt.
The console screen flickered briefly, displaying a series of numbers and random symbols before stabilizing. One of the dials' needles shook violently for a fraction of a second.
Elias jolted, eyes locked on his machine. "What was that?"
I pulled my hand away from the stone, opened my eyes, and adopted a puzzled expression. "I don't know. I just saw a flash… of black stars."
Elias no longer looked at me. He was busy checking his machine, tapping buttons and adjusting dials. "Anomalous reading. Unclassified quantum energy surge. Duration: 0.02 seconds. Irreplicable."
He looked at me again, his curiosity now replaced with cold scientific obsession. "Fascinating phenomenon. Spontaneous fluctuation at the fundamental Essence level. We'll continue this tomorrow."
He packed his equipment swiftly and left without another word.
I was alone again. I had succeeded. I'd given him what he wanted—an anomaly consistent with a Oneiromancer's profile. Something they could study. Something that made me valuable. I had confirmed my worth as an asset, not just a threat.
The Raven's Nest was no longer a prison. It was my laboratory. And I had just begun my first experiment.
In the weeks that followed, this routine continued. Mornings with Elias and his machines—feeding him carefully controlled anomalies. Afternoons and evenings devouring the books they gave me. I learned about the Five Great Kingdoms, the Hundred-Year War against the Northern Barbarian Tribes, the rise of the Essence Wardens' Order, and the power structure of the Church of Three Gods. I studied their steam-based physics, basic alchemical chemistry, and the biology of Essence creatures. Every book was a new window, every fact a new weapon.
I also practiced in the silence of my room. I learned to draw Void Essence from the air itself, though the concentration here was low. I condensed it drop by drop, gradually raising the ocean's level inside my aperture. From forty percent, to forty-one, then forty-two. Progress was slow—but steady.
One afternoon, a month after my arrival, Dales Verneth came to my room in person.
"The arrangements are complete," he said curtly. "You'll begin your studies at the Military Academy tomorrow. A new identity has been created for you: Welt Rothes, an orphan from a remote province discovered to possess rare talents by one of our scouts. A standard cover story to mask the truth."
He placed a dark gray uniform on my bed, the academy's emblem embroidered on the collar. "Lieutenant Grisa will be your escort and primary contact outside. You'll report to her daily. You'll stay in the dorms like the other students, but your room will have additional 'security features.' Don't do anything foolish."
"I won't," I replied.
"Good," he said. "Elias reports promising progress. Continue being a useful asset, Welt. Because in this world, useless things tend to be discarded."
He turned to leave, then paused at the doorway. "One more thing. At the academy, you'll learn about the world. But remember this—the world they teach you is the sanitized version. The real truth is far darker and more complicated. Your task is to learn both—the version they give you, and the one they hide. Understood?"
"Fully, Captain."
He nodded and left.
I picked up the uniform. The fabric was coarse, but it felt heavy with expectation. This was the next step. I had escaped direct surveillance within the Raven's Nest. Now, I would be released into a larger, more complex environment. A forest full of noble heirs, true geniuses, and agents of other powers.
The game was about to truly begin.
And I was ready.