The morning halls of Arcanum Academy always had a rhythm: enchanted bells chiming, books flapping shut mid-air, and students floating lazily between classes with their robes half-folded. Somewhere in the bustle, Professor Mirein of Spatial-Reality Ethics picked up a strange leather-bound notebook left outside her office door. It had no name on the cover, only a line etched in silver runes:
> "For those who teach what they never survived."
She raised a brow.
Inside were fractured diagrams of folded spaces, layered spells gone wrong, and one sigil sequence that made her flinch. She had seen it before—during Ira Moress' strange classroom glitch. But that had happened after the date marked on this page.
"Impossible," Mirein whispered.
That week, she began watching Lucien Drex more closely.
He skipped class again. But her attendance crystal showed something odd: while everyone else shimmered into place with clean magical resonance, Lucien's form flickered on and off as if uncertain he wanted to exist that day.
She rewatched footage of the joint lecture. In one slowed-down frame, Lucien—asleep—flinched a second before the spatial glitch erupted.
He wasn't reacting.
He was anticipating.
Mirein stood in the hallway one afternoon, debating whether to raise this to the Headmistress. Lucien strolled by casually, eating some mystery snack from a shimmering bag.
"Professor," he said, not even glancing her way, "if you're going to follow me, at least ask smarter questions."
He walked away.
On her desk that evening, under her untouched teacup, was a note.
> "Trap Two: You saw the glitch. So did I. Keep watching."
She checked every surveillance spell in her office.
Nothing.
Every scrying ward? Intact.
Yet the teacup had been moved precisely 3.7 millimeters from where she left it.
A page in her lecture notes had been corrected—not changed, just improved. A tiny spatial rune now flowed more cleanly.
She began keeping her wand holstered in her sleeve at all times.
Mirein stormed into Headmistress Elenora's office.
"He is destabilizing classroom dimensions. He knew about the glitch. He wrote it before it happened. That notebook—"
Elenora sipped wine calmly.
"And what would you like me to do?"
"Expel him. Now."
The Headmistress set her goblet down.
"Mirein. If you try to corner Lucien Drex... just remember who built the walls."
That night, Mirein returned to her private quarters.
No signs of tampering.
Her doors were sealed.
The wards unbroken.
And yet—her tea was warm, steeped perfectly.
She stared at the cup for a long time before finally drinking.
Inside, in frosted condensation, words shimmered:
> "You failed your own test."
> "See you in Trap Three."
Mirein nearly dropped the cup.
Somewhere down the corridor, Lucien Drex walked quietly, humming.
> "Trap laid. Results logged. Reaction: 8.5 seconds of paralysis, followed by irrational anger. Subject compromised."
He paused.
"And her tea? A+ on flavor. Might ask her for the brand."
The Headmistress's private headquarters, lined with ancient magical maps and glowing orbs. Aurex Cain enters in a quiet, formal cloak, boots echoing on obsidian tiles.]
Headmistress Elenora:
"It's been a week, Cain. Any progress on Martin?"
Aurex Cain: (slight bow)
"Still elusive, ma'am. He'll likely appear during the tournament. He always does — like clockwork."
Headmistress Elenora:
"And if he doesn't? What if we miss our only window to track him again?"
(She leans forward, voice low)
"We can't afford another disaster. If the Obsidian Project is moving… we must intercept before they act."
Aurex Cain:
"Ma'am… I believe they've already started acting."
(Pauses, eyes narrowing)
"But may I ask something… personal?"
Headmistress Elenora:
"You've earned that right. Go ahead."
Aurex Cain:
"Why this obsession with the Obsidian Project? This feels… deeper than duty."
[She closes her eyes. Breathes in deeply. Her voice, when it returns, is quiet, but deadly.]
Headmistress Elenora:
"The Obsidian Project builds monsters. They twist magic, memories, even souls — anything to achieve control. You were too young, Cain… but 20 years ago, a hidden ranker they groomed nearly shattered the Academy. He wasn't expelled. He wasn't defeated. He was imprisoned. And that… was only the beginning."
Aurex Cain:
(softly)
"Twenty years was deadly, yes. But this feels personal."
(steps forward slightly)
"Your hatred—it doesn't just burn. It grows. I can hear it growing, even now."
Headmistress Elenora: (ignores him, coldly redirecting)
"Once we uncover the hidden ranker… we'll find the true hand behind the Labyrinth. I believe it's the same person."
Aurex Cain:
"What if they're not the same?"
"What if the Architect… the Hidden Ranker… the Project… are all just distractions?"
"What if the real threat hasn't even shown itself yet?"
(eyes narrowing)
"What if we're fighting shadows… while the true enemy watches and laughs?"
Headmistress Elenora: (sharply, interrupting)
"We'll ask those questions when we have a face. For now, our mission is simple:
Find the Hidden Ranker.
"Have you been watching Lucien?"
Aurex Cain:
"Yes. As always, he's up to no good. He even accepted a duel — shocker — though he forfeited before it started. He mentioned something about three traps, of course."
Headmistress Elenora:
"Keep an eye on him. Martin is our prime suspect. But Lucien… he's always been a variable I never trusted."
Aurex Cain: (turning to leave)
"Lucien Drex is less a variable… and more a sentient anomaly with sarcasm issues."
(He exits. The room quiets.)
Headmistress Elenora: (to herself, twice — softly but with growing dread)
> "We built one monster… now we face the one that built itself."
"We built one monster… now we face the one that built itself."
---
⚔️ Conversation 2: Virella Nocteyn × Marcus Vale – "An Enemy of My Enemy"
[Setting: Late evening. Broken ruins at the edge of Arcanum's northern cliffs. Wind howls. Snow crunches under boots.] Where he saw Lucien relaxing days ago
Virella stands alone, waiting — frustration seeping from every breath.
Virella Nocteyn:
"Finally, Lucien… you came. Let me welcome you with something explosive, you arrogant—"
Marcus Vale: (stepping from the shadows)
"Sorry to disappoint you, Nocteyn. Not Lucien."
Virella: (turning abruptly)
"Marcus? What the hell are you doing here?" don't tell me Lucien sent you ?
Marcus: (calmly, arms folded)
"I'm House Vale. Saraphina's cousin, remember? I'd rather eat dirt than take orders from that guy."
Virella:
"Then why are you here?"
"Don't tell me you're afraid of Lucien too."
Marcus: (smirking)
"I'm here because we both want the same thing:
To crush Lucien Drex."
Virella:
"I don't need help. I can handle him alone.", he doesn't deserve that much attention
Marcus: (shrugs, walking closer)
"Sure. And yet you're here in the ruins, talking to shadows, waiting for him. Giving him attention he doesn't deserve… right?"
Virella: (hesitates)
"Tch. Fine. What's your plan?"
Marcus: (leans close, whispers something inaudible)
Virella: (eyes widen)
"Are you sure that'll work?"
Marcus: (grinning)
"Lucien Drex doesn't fall into traps… he walks into them on purpose.
This time, we'll just close the door behind him."