I needed to create an incident. A controlled system failure, a meticulously engineered accident. The stage: the academy. The actors: unsuspecting students and faculty. I myself would be both the victim and the unseen director.
My plan required several components: a trigger, a catalyst, and a volatile environment. For days, I observed, gathering data for my little orchestration. The trigger had to be someone arrogant and powerful, prone to displaying their strength without proper restraint. The catalyst had to be someone weak and timid, whose Essence control could easily collapse under pressure. The environment needed to be a classroom where unstable energy was commonplace.
I found all three components easily enough.
The trigger was Lian Valerius. The older sister of Roshtov was the opposite of her quiet brother, popular, talented in fire Essence, and exuding the pride only a general's daughter could possess. Every success in class was flaunted with flair.
The catalyst was a quiet boy named Finnian. He came from a small merchant family that somehow managed to send him to the academy. He was always nervous, and his Essence manifestation, wind, often appeared as nothing more than a trembling breeze.
The environment was the Advanced Essence Symbology class taught by Master Borin, an old man who preferred theory over practice and was easily rattled. The class involved constructing complex energy matrices, where even a small mistake could trigger a chain reaction. Perfect.
Over a week, I planted seeds. I "accidentally" spilled ink on Lian's immaculate essay, earning me a hateful glare that lasted the entire day. I "helped" Finnian with a basic calculus problem, building the image of a harmless friend. I asked Master Borin, with the innocence of a child, "Sir, is it true that if two differently resonating matrices are placed too close, they could interfere with each other and become unstable?" The question earned me a ten-minute lecture about the dangers of resonance interference, embedding the concept deep into his mind.
Amid all this preparation, I began to feel something else. A gaze.
It wasn't the cold, impersonal surveillance of the Fravikveidimadr. This was different, focused, analytical, constant. I felt it in the dining hall, in the library, in the courtyard. I traced it back to its source: a quiet senior student named William Salwors. He never approached me or spoke to me. He simply watched from afar, often behind a thick book, his sharp eyes recording my every move. He was an unaccounted variable. A silent wolf among noisy sheep. I had to assume that everything I did now had a second audience.
...
William Salwors closed his black leather-bound notebook. On the last page, a new entry was neatly inscribed in his compact handwriting.
Day 34 of Observation – Subject W-01.
Deliberate increase in social interactions detected. Subject has initiated contact with two specific targets: Lian Valerius (minor conflict, provocation) and Finnian O'Connell (assistance, rapport-building). Both targets are in the same Essence Symbology class as the subject. A pattern is forming.
Hypothesis: Subject is engineering conditions for a premeditated event. Purpose unclear. Possible: social sabotage of Valerius, or another performance of failure to reinforce his image as an incompetent student. Further observation required.
William placed the notebook back in his bag. His obsession with Welt Rothes wasn't part of any official assignment. It was personal. From the very first day he saw that boy, a ten-year-old walking through the academy gates with the calmness of a war veteran, he knew something was off. The fabricated background, the impossible knowledge that had become whispered rumors among some faculty, and most importantly, the too-perfect failures in practical classes. It was all an anomaly. And William Salwors lived to analyze anomalies.
He entered the Essence Symbology classroom and took his usual seat in the far back corner, giving him a full view of the room. He saw Welt sitting beside the anxious Finnian. He saw Lian Valerius at the front row, grinning with confidence. All the pieces were in place.
Master Borin began the lesson. "Today," he croaked, "we'll attempt a more complex exercise: constructing a Third-Order Harmonic Resonance Matrix. The key is stability and control. Don't rush it!"
As expected, Lian Valerius finished first. Her fire matrix glowed brightly, an arrogant and powerful masterpiece, but slightly unstable at the edges, due to haste.
Then, Master Borin gestured to the middle row. Finnian swallowed hard, hands trembling as he began forming his wind matrix.
William focused all his attention on Welt. Outwardly, the boy merely sat still, waiting his turn. But William, having observed him for over a month, noticed something else: a nearly imperceptible shift in posture. A breath taken with unnatural control.
And then, he felt it. Not through normal senses, he reached out with his trained Essence. A pulse. A minuscule, cold, alien pulse, radiating from Welt's seat. It lasted less than a second. Clearly not an attack. William concluded it was a whisper, a minor interference aimed precisely at Finnian.
Finnian jolted. His concentration broke. His already fragile wind matrix faltered, then exploded into a chaotic burst of energy.
The surge shot across the room, straight into Lian's blazing fire matrix.
"Careful!" Master Borin shouted, too late.
Boom.
The two incompatible energies collided. The result wasn't a large explosion, but something stranger. The air inside the room seemed to shiver. The Essence field went haywire, like violently stirred water. A wild, unpredictable chain reaction.
Students screamed, shielding themselves as wild sparks flew in every direction. But William didn't care about the chaos. His eyes were fixed on Welt.
The boy made no effort to shield himself. He simply sat there, letting the chaotic wave wash over him. And then the real performance began.
"Aaaargh!"
The scream was genuine, pain and terror crafted to perfection. From Welt's small body, inky black shadows erupted. They weren't solid, more like living smoke, lashing through the air, leaving icy trails across the walls and ceiling. It was a terrifying sight, a raw manifestation of something dark and untamed. William had never seen anything like it.
Then, as suddenly as they appeared, the tendrils snapped back into his body, and Welt collapsed from his chair, unconscious.
Silence fell across the room, broken only by Finnian's sobs and ragged breathing from the others.
Master Borin stammered, his face pale. "Quick… call the medics! Take him to the infirmary! This is… this is Resonance Backlash!"
William calmly reopened his notebook in the midst of the panic. He wrote swiftly.
Event confirmed. Initial hypothesis accurate. Subject orchestrated entire sequence. Initial pulse was the trigger. The Backlash experienced by the subject was likely deliberate and controlled. Objective: escalation. He wishes to be removed from the standard curriculum.
Question: What is the ultimate goal of this escalation? What does he hope to find in the medical facility?
William closed his notebook. The puzzle had grown more fascinating.
...
I felt my consciousness return, slowly. The first thing I noted was the sharp antiseptic smell and the steady beeping of a machine. I opened my eyes. I was in a pristine white bed, a thin blanket over my body. The academy infirmary. Phase one of my plan was a success.
A nurse noticed my movement and quickly approached. "Oh, you're awake. Try not to move too much. You experienced a severe Backlash."
I put on a confused, weak expression. "Where… am I? What happened?"
Before she could answer, the door burst open and Grisa Rash entered with brisk steps. Her face was a mask of concern barely hiding restrained fury.
"What did you do, Welt?" she asked in a low, sharp voice.
"I… I don't know," I whispered, voice raspy on purpose. "There were so many… voices… in my head. Then everything went dark."
She stared at me, searching for signs of deceit. I returned the gaze with that of a frightened, confused child. Over the next few days, I became the model patient. I underwent a series of tests by academy physicians and healers. They scanned my body, analyzed my blood, measured my Essence field. Naturally, they found nothing. I had already retracted every trace of Void Essence, storing it safely within my aperture. To them, I was simply a strange case, based on my earlier observations. A child with a rare and unstable Oneiric Path who nearly died from chaotic Essence exposure.
Their diagnosis was exactly what I needed: "Critical condition caused by innate Essence incompatibility. Requires observation and care in a facility with more advanced equipment."
On the third day, Dales Verneth came to see me. He stood beside my bed, expression grim.
"It seems you're more fragile than we anticipated," he said. "This academy isn't a safe environment for someone with your condition. You'll be relocated."
"Relocated where?" I asked weakly.
"To the West Wing Medical and Research Facility," he replied. "They have the best equipment for handling your kind of case. You'll stay there until we can understand and stabilize your talent."
The West Wing. The location of that secret laboratory. My bait had been taken.
"I don't want to go," I said, adding a hint of panic to my voice. "I want to stay here." A small protest to make it all more believable.
"This isn't a choice, Welt," Dales said firmly. "It's for your own good. And the safety of the other students."
He turned and left. The game was over. I had won.
That very night, I was moved. Taken in an armored medical transport, this time accompanied by two white-coated technicians in addition to Grisa. We never left the academy grounds. Instead, we headed for a secluded building at the far west edge of campus, a windowless structure that looked more like a bunker than a hospital.
As they led me through corridors colder and more sterile than the Raven's Nest, I felt the pulse again. Much stronger now. I was getting closer.
They placed me in a private isolation room. Padded walls. No sharp objects. A glass orb in the ceiling emitting a soft light. I knew it doubled as both sensor and camera.
They left me alone. I lay on the bed, appearing weak and compliant. But inside, my mind raced. I was now inside the beast's belly. I had traded a larger cage for a smaller one, but this cage sat right next to its heart.
That night, I didn't attempt to explore the place with my awareness. I had to be patient. They'd be watching closely during the first few days. I needed to build a predictable behavior pattern, that of a frail, helpless patient.
But one thing bothered me. William Salwors. He had seen it all. I didn't know what he had concluded, but a sharp observer like him wouldn't accept the official explanation blindly. He was a loose thread, a wild variable in my perfect plan. For now, I couldn't do anything about him. I could only hope he kept his conclusions to himself.
My focus now was here. In this facility. I would wait. I would observe. And when the time came, I would take what I wanted: knowledge of the Chimera Project, the truth about Silas, and the secrets behind the dark fragment they had sealed underground.
Infiltration Phase Twohas begun.