The lecture hall was built like a coliseum, a half-circle of tiered stone benches overlooking a raised dais.
At its center stood a sphere of dark crystal, pulsing softly with the rhythm of something unseen. Around it, the Academy's third-years gathered in quiet tension.
Kael sat near the edge of the upper tiers, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes scanning the room. He wasn't looking at the crystal.
He was watching the students.
There was Cillian Morwyn, heir to a ducal line and already wielding a Second-Level Aspect Path. Tall, sharp-eyed, and impossibly confident, he spoke only to those whose family names held weight. Beside him sat Lysara Vayne, elegant and cruel in equal measure, her silvery hair bound by a clasp etched with House Vayne's sigil—a serpent devouring its own tail.
Across the aisle, Vale Teshen leaned back in his seat, legs crossed, wearing commoner's leather like it was noble silk. No insignia, no banners—but rumor had it he'd bested a Path-ranked cadet in a duel during first-year orientation. A rare genius from the lower tiers. The kind the Nobles both admired and feared.
And then there was Renira, quiet and unassuming, her robes plain, her posture humble. No one noticed her. But Kael had. She was always where the right answers were, always watching, always listening. He respected that.
The lecture began not with words, but with silence.
The instructor, a pale man in a robe of layered grays, tapped the crystal with two fingers. The room dimmed as the crystal pulsed brighter. A holographic web unfurled in the air above the dais—dozens of branching paths, each flickering with motion and light. Symbols rotated slowly beside them: flame, shadow, will, form, flesh, memory, steel…
"The Paths," the instructor said finally, "are not gifts. They are bindings."
A ripple of discomfort passed through the hall. Kael didn't move.
"Each of you believes you've chosen," the instructor continued, voice low and measured. "You've been told the System recognized your affinity and gave you power. That you followed the Path that best fit your nature. This is a lie. The System does not recognize. It allocates."
Whispers rose, but the instructor raised a hand.
"You think your affinities are innate? No. They are the result of design. Of intervention. Every Path you see before you was carved by someone. Once, these branches did not exist. They were hacked from the unknown and tethered to the System."
The floating web shimmered again, and for a moment Kael saw something behind it—a darker shape, an older outline, flickering like static.
"But not all Paths are sanctioned," the instructor said. "Not all truths are known."
Kael felt his pulse quicken. He wasn't the only one.
"In the days after the Descent, the Noble families discovered the deepest foundations of the System. Some dared to create new Paths—unregulated, dangerous, potent. These are hidden now, locked behind Veils even the System can't fully trace."
He paused.
"And this, children, is why most of you will never ascend."
There was silence again. A heavy one.
Kael sat back in his seat, mind turning.
The Academy didn't just teach Paths. It taught obedience. Stay within the system. Climb only where the ladder was visible. But the Ashwins had whispered different truths. Kael had read too much, seen too many fragments in the family's sealed archives to believe in coincidence. The Paths were curated—refined through generations, hoarded like bloodlines.
The lecture ended with a wave of the instructor's hand, and students began filtering out, murmuring.
Kael remained seated.
Vale Teshen passed near him, then stopped. "You believe that stuff?"
Kael didn't look up. "I believe systems can be gamed."
Vale gave a soft laugh. "Good. Then maybe you're not as empty as they say."
He walked off before Kael could reply.
A moment later, Renira slipped into the seat beside him without invitation. Her voice was barely a whisper. "There's more than one system."
Kael turned to her, surprised. Her eyes met his briefly—calm, measured, too knowing for someone who pretended to be invisible.
"Watch the crystal next time," she murmured. "It doesn't just show Paths. Sometimes it flickers. Shows things it shouldn't."
She stood and left as quietly as she'd arrived.
Kael stared at the dark crystal on the dais. It pulsed steadily now, innocent and blank.
But just for a second, when the instructor had twisted the projection, he had seen something.
Not a branch.
A reflection.
His own face—fractured, shifting. Not his expression, but his features—warping between versions of himself. A thousand possible Kaels staring back at him.
[System]
Detection anomaly recorded. Signature unstable. Potential divergence point.
Classification: Undefined. Observation ongoing.