I opened my eyes. The scent of disinfectant and clean linen filled my nostrils, a familiar smell from Fravikveidimadr's underground facilities. A thin blanket covered part of my body. I could tell I was back in their medical ward.
"Oh, you're awake?" The gentle voice came accompanied by a cool touch on my forehead. Nurse Hela. Her face showed relief, though I couldn't be certain whether it was genuine or merely professional conditioning.
"Yes, completely," I answered hoarsely. "How long?"
"Nearly five days. Your condition was critical when they brought you in." She adjusted the pillow beneath my head. "You're lucky to be alive. Your friends at Fravikveidimadr were quite worried."
"They're not my friends," I said with a sigh. "They're my handlers. I'm their valuable asset, and therefore their concern is financial, not emotional."
Hela only smiled faintly, not contradicting my statement.
"In that case, may I continue my education?" I asked softly while beginning to sit up, leaning against the soft headboard.
"You need approval from Captain Dales. I don't have authority over such matters."
Of course.
"Right, I forgot. Thank you for taking care of me." My stomach rumbled loudly. "Could I have a bowl of porridge?"
"Certainly. Wait here." Her smile became slightly more genuine before she turned and left the room.
I stared at the closed door. Hela was intriguing. Beautiful, if I could say so, but I doubted she was merely an ordinary nurse.
The door opened again. Captain Dales entered with someone else. Beside him stood a man whose presence made the room feel smaller. About 190 centimeters tall, broad shoulders, and a soldier's posture. His dark hair was cut extremely short, nearly bald, and his skin was warm bronze.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Welt," Dales said. "This is First Lieutenant Gerald Vahtrein. He'll be overseeing your physical training. I know you might refu—"
"No," I cut him off quickly. "I'm willing, Captain."
My immediate compliance left Dales speechless. He exchanged glances with Gerald before continuing. "He'll be your mentor at the academy. He'll monitor your progress and ensure you don't cause trouble again."
Gerald stepped forward, extending a large hand covered in scars. "Pleasure to meet you, kid." His voice was exactly what one would expect, genuinely deep.
I shook his hand. His grip was firm and controlled. "Welt Rothes. An honor, sir."
Physical training would be the perfect cover for accessing other academy facilities and gathering intel on their military methods...
"Of course, before we begin," Gerald said, "I need to test your limits. After you've fully recovered."
He released my hand, nodded to Dales, then left the room. Waiting outside.
Once Gerald was gone, the atmosphere shifted. Dales sat in the chair beside my bed, his posture rigid and serious. "So, Welt. Tell me what really happened. The academy's report mentions 'Resonance Backlash,' but I know that's only part of the story. Why was your condition so severe? Did you encounter an Aberration?"
I looked at him, weaving my lies with fragments of truth as I usually did.
"Initially, I sensed a sudden drop in Essence near the academy gate. I told Irene and Finnian to find a safe route. That's when I got trapped."
I paused briefly, showing hesitation. "I tried using my power to survive. That was a massive mistake. That's when I realized my opponent was Forre. When I attempted to manipulate his dream realm, he reversed the attack on my brain, leading to a scenario where he stole part of my power and left dark traces in my nadir circuits. That's what triggered the backlash."
"Forre..." Dales repeated, his eyes narrowing as he tried to remember. "The Kingdom's most wanted fugitive? An Archetype 6 from The Rebel Channel?" He looked genuinely shocked. An Evolver at Order six was indeed a major threat, even for Fravikveidimadr.
"Is this also because of that?" he asked, pointing to my hair and eyes.
I touched a strand of my now-pale white hair, my eyes, as I'd seen before losing consciousness, glowing truly red. "In my dreams after fainting, I saw him crawling on walls, spitting strange fluid on my hair and eyes. I suppose as an Archetype 6, he's capable of manifesting illusions into reality."
Dales pondered, making his expression difficult to read. My story, though extraordinary, fit with Forre's profile that couldn't be catalogued in detail, so it could manipulate them just for now.
"Makes sense," he finally said. "Rest here until fully recovered. When ready, return to the academy and meet Gerald at the staff office. Understood?"
"Understood completely, sir," I replied.
Once he left, I relaxed my guard slightly. They had swallowed the bait completely. Now they had a logical explanation for my condition.
...…
In her still-empty dormitory room, Irene Cheva stared at a diagram she'd drawn in her notebook. The diagram mapped patrol movements around the academy, catalogued staff rotation schedules in the medical wing, and communication flows she'd managed to passively intercept.
Days had passed since Welt Rothes disappeared. The official report said he was undergoing intensive care in the West Wing. The story was too neat to believe and didn't even have gaps to be believed. Irene didn't trust such things, not until the explanation was genuinely clear.
She still remembered their last night returning from dinner. Strangely, Welt, who was much younger than her, could adapt and even had intellectual capacity far exceeding Irene's. When he distanced himself, Irene realized one thing: Welt could very well be called a half-crazy child with the other half still sane.
"Infiltration," Irene muttered. "Does he just want to relocate with such a dangerous plan? I didn't think he was that stupid, but, well, I'm not that close to the kid."
She closed her notebook.
She didn't know whether the kid was friend or foe, and all she knew was that Welt was doing something beyond his current capacity, and with that, Irene was very interested in overtaking him in the future.
She immediately extinguished the lantern but didn't lie down right away. Her habit was to contemplate the future of this academy. Then she hugged the pillow beside her and pulled the blanket. Since her arrival, she always slept on top, not underneath. She didn't want to be considered weird just for often sleeping in underwear. After turning over various thoughts too heavy for her own brain, she finally fell fast asleep.
...…
Two weeks later, I returned to Clockthon Royal Military Academy.
White hair. Red eyes.
Permanent marks from my encounter with "Forre" that had made me something of a small legend among the cadets. The genius who survived an attack by the most wanted fugitive, they said.
A reputation built on lies proved to be stronger armor than any breastplate.
I began phase two: social asset accumulation and power network mapping.
Finnian had already become my loyal pawn, useful for small tasks and unconsciously spreading the information I needed. As for Roshtov, perhaps I needed to watch him more closely.
I formed an informal "study group."
Officially to help me catch up on lessons missed while "sick." But it was actually my way of discovering some characteristics of these "friends" of mine.
I chose members carefully: Finnian with his blind loyalty, Roshtov with his strangeness I couldn't understand myself, a genius technician cadet from a common family who was insanely narcissistic, then a girl from a small bureaucratic family who had connections to gossip, and finally Lian Valerius.
Inviting Lian was the riskiest move, even by my own standards.
She still hated me because of the incident in Symbology class. But I didn't invite her directly, of course, because that would be too crude. Instead, I had Finnian "accidentally" mention that we were discussing offensive applications of resonance theory.
Which happened to be Lian's favorite topic.
As I predicted, her ego couldn't resist the temptation to show off her knowledge and possibly humiliate me in front of the others. She came to the first meeting with that familiar dismissive expression, but she came.
And that was enough.
My goal was simple: create a microcosm of the academy's power structure. High nobility, low nobility, technical class, bureaucratic class. By observing how they interacted, I could better envision how the schism would unfold, and that was desperately needed and absolutely necessary.
And one afternoon, as our group discussed in a rarely visited corner of the library, footsteps approached.
Irene Cheva.
She stopped beside our table, glancing at the scattered pile of books, her eyes focusing on the matrix diagram we were discussing. For several seconds, there were only five pairs of eyes staring at her and waiting in motionless silence.
"Your structure isn't good."
"You're wasting twenty percent of energy in secondary stabilization nodes. If you reverse the polarity of the third coil and redirect the surplus through a bypass circuit, you could increase output by fifteen percent without sacrificing stability," she said, occasionally glancing at me.
The air around the table somehow became less relaxed.
Lian stared at her with narrowed eyes, apparently jealous that another girl dared display technical prowess in front of her. Finnian gaped like a fish out of water, well, that fit his personality perfectly. The others just fell silent, uncertain how to react.
I looked at the diagram briefly, then raised my head to meet Irene's gaze.
"Your theory assumes regular Essence flow, correct?" I replied slowly. "That doesn't apply to unstable energy sources like the Oneiric Channel. The bypass you propose would cause uncontrolled oscillations within seconds."
"That only happens if you're still using standard converters." Her eyes gleamed, truly maniacal like her appearance. "Liquid quartz crystal-based converters can absorb those fluctuations perfectly!"
An intellectual duel...
What you two are doing right now is nothing more than measuring each other intellectually, which means it has nothing to do with that diagram earlier. However, I'm interested in engaging with this maniac...
"Liquid quartz crystals have never been successfully synthesized stably," I responded. "At least according to all existing literature."
A thin smile appeared at the corner of her lips.
"According to the books in this library, you mean." She took a step back. "Happy studying."
Then she turned and left just like that.
Bringing her into the plan would be difficult, very difficult. She was too smart to be manipulated conventionally, too independent to be tamed. But the rewards I could gain would be extraordinary.
I hadn't executed a single one of the grand plans stored in my mind yet. For now, I would observe carefully and wouldn't act rashly until the time came.
The Grand Plan of Hundreds wouldn't be as simple as I'd initially imagined. Far more complex, more dangerous than my previous world's schemes, and perhaps, if I wasn't careful, it would leak before its time.