The courtyard of the Royal Academy had transformed into something resembling a magical obstacle course designed by a particularly mischievous god—or by Lucien, which was practically the same thing. Spinning platforms, floating mana nodes, and the occasional errant fireball now littered the area. Citizens on the streets below had learned the hard way that crossing the courtyard was now officially an extreme sport.
Lucien, perched atop a hovering lectern that had somehow sprouted wings, sipped his tea as if he were merely observing a mild garden mishap. "Ah… the city, the academy, and chaos in perfect harmony. Observe, Rorio, observe! Notice how panic and laughter are perfectly proportional."
Rorio, lying upside-down on a floating cushion, wagged his tail with dangerous enthusiasm. "Mostly proportional. Slightly combustible. Excellent breakfast ratio. Are we feeding the Ice Cube after the apocalypse, or during?"
"Patience," Lucien said, swirling golden tea that glimmered unnaturally in the morning light. "The apocalypse is merely… dramatic seasoning."
Below, Aria was sprinting across a wobbling platform, flames licking the edges of her gloves. "I am not doing this for fun!" she shouted, narrowly dodging a spinning fire node. "Ryn, help me—or at least stop looking smug!"
Ryn Althas hovered beside her, effortlessly deflecting rogue nodes with shields of silver-blue mana. "I would love to help," he said smoothly, "but your definition of 'help' involves an awful lot of screaming."
Aria shot him a glare so intense it could have liquefied ice. "We talked about prophecy, Ryn! You vanished afterward, and now you just… show up like this?"
Ryn raised a single eyebrow. "I had… pressing errands. Paperwork. Dragons. Fate. You know, the usual. Somewhat dramatic, slightly boring, but very necessary."
Kellen, still clinging to a spiraling water platform, squeaked, "I… I think Lucien planned this entire thing to… to embarrass all of us at once!"
Myra, hovering gracefully on a column of wind, shook her head. "No. This is standard Lucien behavior. You'll get used to it… maybe in your next life."
Rorio barked. "Mostly embarrassing. Slightly educational. Excellent snack ratio. Also… are there any normal mornings here?"
Darius, standing like a statue of frost in the middle of the chaos, had ice spikes spiraling elegantly around him. Yet even he frowned slightly at the black mana figure materializing from yesterday's convergence. The humanoid presence radiated raw, uncontainable energy that made even Darius pause.
"This… being," Darius muttered, voice tight, "is… unnatural."
Lucien tilted his head, tea teetering in his hand. "Ah, natural, Darius. Purely natural. Evolution of chaos, spontaneity, and a dash of villainous flair. Observe: tension, drama, mild panic. The perfect pedagogy."
Rorio wagged his tail. "Mostly pedagogical. Slightly terrifying. Excellent snack ratio. Are muffins part of the curriculum today?"
Aria, fire flaring with indignation, launched a controlled jet at the black mana figure. The figure absorbed the energy effortlessly, the black threads weaving around it like silk.
"Impressive," Ryn murmured, shielding himself and Aria simultaneously. "But… definitely dangerous."
Kellen, spinning helplessly on a tilted water platform, yelled, "I… I think this is all Lucien's fault!"
"Correct," Lucien said with a soft laugh, flipping through his notebook lazily. "And utterly delightful."
The black mana figure's voice boomed, resonating across the courtyard and down the streets. "I have come for the one marked by the threads… and for the chaos that sustains this fragile academy."
Even the rogue mana nodes seemed to pause, spinning mid-air. Citizens stopped mid-step, vendors dropped trays of churros, and pigeons squealed in terror.
Lucien clapped once, slowly, deliberately. "Ah… perfect timing. Chaos, comedy, spectators… and perhaps a dash of impending doom. The ingredients for entertainment are aligned."
Rorio barked excitedly. "Mostly thrilling. Slightly catastrophic. Excellent snack ratio. We feed the Ice Cube now, yes?"
Lucien swirled his tea. "Always, Rorio. Always. But first… let's see who survives with their dignity intact."
Darius moved with precise, deliberate steps, frost forming deadly lattices around him. "Lucien," he said coldly, "this… is absurd. The threads, the chaos, that figure—control it."
Lucien tilted his head, golden eyes sparkling. "Control? Darius, my dear frozen prodigy… chaos is control, if one merely observes the comedy enough."
The black mana figure advanced, energy radiating in waves that made the floating platforms tilt unpredictably. Students scrambled. Fire collided with frost. Water whirled into wind currents, and sparks of mana exploded in harmless yet spectacular bursts.
Aria screamed as she narrowly avoided a collision with Ryn, both landing on the same tilting platform. For a fraction of a second, time seemed to slow. Their eyes met, but Aria's focus snapped back to the fight with a flaring red glare.
Kellen somersaulted through an unexpected water vortex, landing near Myra, who gave him a faintly exasperated glance. "Try not to die before lunch," she said lightly.
Darius moved with flawless precision, intercepting attacks and redirecting energy, yet even he felt the strain of maintaining order amidst Lucien's orchestrated chaos. "Predictable chaos," he muttered, teeth gritted. "Yet… this improvisation is maddeningly effective."
Lucien leaned back on his book, swirling tea, and whispered to Rorio, "Observe, dear friend. Chaos is the teacher. Comedy is the seasoning. And Darius… the perfect foil for this culinary disaster of mana."
Rorio yawned, tail flicking lazily. "Mostly educational. Slightly entertaining. Excellent snack ratio. Can we call it lunch now?"
Suddenly, the black mana figure's form shifted, the threads coalescing into a towering humanoid that radiated pure power. Its voice echoed, terrifyingly calm, yet resonating with the academy itself.
"Students, faculty, citizens of the Royal Academy… prepare yourselves. The threads have converged. The chaos… and the marked one… awaits."
The courtyard froze. Platforms teetered, mana nodes hung suspended mid-spin, and the city streets below watched in horrified fascination.
Lucien sipped his tea, eyes glimmering. "Ah… cliffhanger of the century. Perfect timing. The comedy, the chaos… and the suspense. Delicious."
Rorio barked, tail wagging furiously. "Mostly suspense. Slightly catastrophic. Excellent snack ratio. Do we survive?"
Lucien leaned back, golden eyes gleaming like twin constellations. "Rorio… the answer is irrelevant. It's about the performance."
Above the academy, stars glittered faintly, oblivious to the chaos below. And in the northern horizon, threads of destiny twisted and converged—one gold, one crimson, one silver, one black… and one waiting to make its entrance.
The Royal Academy braced itself. Chaos, laughter, and peril entwined. And Lucien—master of worlds, chaos incarnate, comedian supreme—smiled. The game had only just begun.