A soft whisper slid into Grandma's mind – it was Clara's voice.
"Mistress Elunara, why are you at the barrier? Is something wrong?"
But instead of answering, Grandma's voice came steady and commanding.
"Clara, I need you to stay at the academy. I'm going in."
The spirit's reply was immediate, laced with alarm.
"Huh? But why, Mistress Elunara? I thought you were going to wait for the student you summoned to curse the kettle, and release the young Master's spirit."
"No," Grandma said, her voice flat as steel. Her gaze swept the shadows around her, the silence pressing against her ears. Only the barrier shimmered faintly, as if breathing. Beyond it, the woods pulsed with an ominous stillness.
"I've heard stories about that kid with the evil spirit," she continued, her tone dipped in a quiet certainty. Her eyes narrowed against the dark, her expression unreadable.
"He won't be able to curse it."
"Why so, Mistress Elunara?" Clara's voice pressed again, edged with concern. Her tone wasn't defiance, only a spirit's desperate need to understand the reasoning of her master.
Grandma's eyes stayed locked on the faint shimmer of the Calamines barrier as she answered.
"I've heard enough whispers about him. His spirit is strong, stronger than most, it's a special-grade evil spirit. But strength alone doesn't mean control." Her voice deepened. "He can't fully tame it, because he's only a fourth grade level. To keep it docile, he keeps feeding it evil spirits, one after another, just to maintain its energy."
The thought alone drew a thin crease between her brows.
"But even with that," she added, her tone softening into certainty, "it won't evolve… not unless he evolves first."
Clara hesitated, silence dragging for a heartbeat before she asked,
"And what about the spirits? Miko is supposed to transfer them inside the barrier, right?"
The question lingered, heavy, pulling Grandma's thoughts toward the woods and the darkness waiting beyond. The air felt colder, as if the barrier itself was listening.
"No." Grandma's reply came firm, her tone clipped with certainty. "I have a hunch those spirits shouldn't enter the barrier at any cost. It feels like a trap."
Her eyes narrowed as she lowered herself to the ground, boots pressing softly against the damp earth. She folded her arms loosely, posture steady but alert, waiting for Miko to reappear from the shadows. Her voice steadied again, quieter but edged with reason.
"And besides, Miko alone can't perform a transference technique strong enough to push all those spirits inside. It's impossible."
Clara went silent, but Grandma's thoughts pressed forward.
"Even as an Obliva myself, I can't claim certainty in a matter I've never faced. A problem I've never tested but be able to state the solution. And yet… that's exactly what Vyamranshi did."
Her jaw tightened. Slowly, she lifted her hand, letting her fingertips brush the glowing surface of the barrier. The touch sparked faint ripples across its surface, sending pale lines of light racing outward like veins.
"This barrier…" she muttered, her voice dipping lower. "Just by looking at it, how could she say with such confidence there are exactly three barriers inside, and a Phantom Hall Domain, and that it was shifting reality?"
Her words carried a bite, suspicion threading her tone. The barrier pulsed once in response to her touch, as though echoing her doubt.
Clara went silent, her thoughts tangled, a faint puzzle threading through her voice before she hushed herself.
Grandma's fingers lingered against the glowing wall, tracing the faint pulses of light that trembled beneath her touch.
Each vibration that struck her palm felt uneven, and unstable like a heart beating out of rhythm. Her eyes narrowed.
"And she doesn't strike me as an Obliva at all," she added, her voice low, every word edged with suspicion.
She exhaled slowly, letting her hand fall back to her side as her gaze swept the treeline, then returned to the shifting shimmer of the barrier.
"But I don't want anyone to find out I'm going in. Not the headmaster, not the instructors. This is urgent… and somehow personal." Her tone sharpened into command. "I need you to stay here and keep an eye on Vyamranshi. She looks fishy."
A small pause, then Clara's reply came with reluctant obedience.
"Okay, Mistress Elunara. But how about the rest of them? The headmaster might start looking for you."
"Don't mind the others," Grandma said at last, her tone flat with resolve. "Besides, the headmaster looks like he doesn't remember half of what he should. It's as if pieces of his memory are missing."
Her eyes narrowed, recalling the look on his face.
"Like when I mentioned Sēndra. As old as he is, it was as if he had never even heard the name. And shifting reality? He didn't know what it meant either."
Her jaw tightened. "So I'm not relying on him. I'm going to let Miko use me as his vessel so I can enter through transference. And you, Clara…" her voice sharpened, every word cutting clean, "...I want you to keep an eye on the rest of the spirits."
The air around her stilled. For a moment, she seemed only half present, her eyes drifting away from the barrier into the shadows pressing in around it. Her body was quiet, almost relaxed, but her mind raced like a blade drawn beneath the surface.
She replayed the meeting in the monitor room: Every face, every glance.
They were too easy to convince, too dumb to suspect, too quiet to ask, even when the truth was dragged before them.
Her lips curved faintly, though not into a smile. More like a cold acknowledgement.
I don't trust a single one of them, they didn't look real to me. Hmmmph, I might be living a shifting reality myself, or maybe them.
Some of them didn't speak at all, content to sit in silence, quiet enough to groan if pressed, but offering nothing, risking nothing. And that was the problem. The silence of fools is more dangerous than the words of liars.
She shifted her hand back to the barrier, its light rippling beneath her touch. The hum of its energy met her skin like a heartbeat.
If no one else will do this, then I will.
Not long after, Miko appeared through the darkness, the kettle glinting faintly under the barrier's pale shimmer. His silken body was wrapped tightly around its neck, while part of him spread wide, flapping like fragile wings as he hovered toward Grandma. Each beat gave off a faint whisper, like cloth brushing against the wind.
At that moment, Clara stirred inside Grandma's chest. With a soft pulse, she phased outward, slipping free of her vessel. Her form shimmered in golden light, her outline glowing faintly as though made of threads of dawn. The air quivered around her departure as she took her human form.
Grandma's eyes flicked toward her. "Take a form that won't draw suspicion and is flexible."
Clara didn't argue. Her golden shimmer twisted inward, folding over itself until the glow dimmed. In moments, what hovered in her place was nothing more than a small fly, its wings buzzing softly in the night air.
"Be careful, Mistress Elunara," Clara said, her voice faint, riding the telepathic link as the fly darted away into the shadows.
Grandma didn't reply. She only watched the tiny shimmer vanish into the dark, her focus already shifting back to the kettle Miko carried.
Miko loosened his hold, unwrapping himself slowly from the kettle's neck. His long red silken form swayed in the air, trembling faintly as if bracing for what was about to happen.
Then a glow of green, faint at first, then pulsing brighter, seeped out of his silk like mist escaping from cracks, curling upward before lancing forward. The light struck Grandma's chest softly and sank into her, threading itself deep within her body.
The silk shell collapsed, fluttering lifelessly to the ground. The faint rustle as it landed echoed against the barrier's hum.
Grandma stood still for a long moment, her eyes closed, her breath shallow but steady. Then, slowly, her lashes lifted. Her eyes opened, glowing faintly with an unnatural hue; half gold, half green, two lights bleeding together.
The glow faded into a sharp steadiness. Then she bent down, her hands firm, and gathered both the kettle and the silk from the ground. Her fingers lingered for a moment on the kettle's warm surface.
Then, without hesitation, her form blurred, flicking ghostly. The air around her rippled like water breaking as she stepped forward and phased straight into the barrier.
The shimmer swallowed her whole, the Calamines wall trembling once as if in protest, then sealing itself shut behind her.
The moment she phased through the Calamines barrier, the world rippled like broken glass. She didn't stop there, her form slipped straight through the next three Lamis barriers, each layer colder, and tighter, their vibrations scraping against her very being. By the time she emerged on the other side, the air had changed, thick, and waiting.
And so was someone.
A figure stood ahead of her, perfectly still, as if he had been planted there in expectation. His silhouette cut sharply against the dim woods, posture too deliberate to be coincidence.
Grandma's eyes darted across the treeline. The forest around her remained unchanged, the bark rough, the leaves whispering faintly in the breeze. That alone told her enough: she hadn't stepped into the Phantom Hall yet. This was still the real world.
A grin touched her lips, thin but edged like steel. She let her eyes settle on the stranger and muttered under her breath, her tone laced with mocking ease,
"Is this my welcome party?"
The words echoed faintly through the silence, swallowed by the still woods.
And the figure didn't move at all.