The chamber beneath the capital was older than the Academy itself.
Its walls were etched with resonance sinks and stabilizers, designed not for comfort but for containment. This was where truths were spoken without ornament.
Keal stood at the center, hands clasped behind his back.
Jun waited near the console, expression unreadable.
Theal activated the projection.
Layers of resonance data unfolded into the air—patterns, deviations, anomalies.
"This is not speculation," Theal began. "This is accumulation."
Keal did not turn. "Then speak plainly."
Theal nodded. "The foreign resonance signatures we detected during the northern incident do not match fractured-plane patterns. They are structured. Intentional."
Jun interjected, "Meaning?"
"Meaning," Theal continued, "they are not drifting into our world. They are arriving."
Keal finally turned. "Explain how they're surviving rejection."
Theal adjusted the projection. "They've developed a masking method. A resonance coating that mimics Aurelin's ambient frequency. It doesn't convert their core resonance—it only hides it."
Jun frowned. "Temporary."
"Yes," Theal said. "And costly. But sufficient for limited presence."
Keal's jaw tightened. "So this isn't reconnaissance."
"No," Theal agreed. "It's groundwork."
The projection shifted—showing long-term energy anchors forming across multiple regions.
Jun leaned forward. "Those aren't attack formations."
"They're not," Theal said. "They're stabilization points."
Keal's voice was low. "You're saying they intend to stay."
"Yes."
Jun exhaled slowly. "Then they must have a reason."
Theal hesitated—just briefly.
"Their world," he said carefully, "is failing."
Keal's eyes narrowed. "Define failing."
"Their resonance cycle is degrading. Their World Spirit—whatever form it takes—is weakening. We cannot confirm the cause, only the result."
Jun crossed his arms. "So they want to merge."
"That is the most probable conclusion," Theal said. "Not immediately. Not violently. Gradually."
Keal's gaze sharpened. "And Aurelin would reject that."
"Normally," Theal said. "Yes."
Jun tilted his head. "Unless something changes."
Theal nodded. "Unless an anchor is established."
Silence settled.
Keal spoke first. "Explain the anchor."
Theal inhaled. "A World Spirit cannot be moved. That much is consistent across all known systems. However… it may be possible to create a new point of convergence here."
Jun's voice was careful. "Through what means?"
Theal did not answer immediately.
"Through a living vessel," he said finally.
Keal did not react outwardly—but Jun did.
"That's theory," Jun said. "Unproven."
"Yes," Theal agreed. "And dangerous. Survival rates would be… questionable."
Jun frowned. "For whom?"
"The vessel," Theal said. "There is reason to believe younger hosts may endure better—but that remains an assumption, not a rule."
Keal's voice was cold. "You're saying they might attempt to grow a World Spirit inside one of our people."
"Yes."
Jun shook his head. "And you're certain this is their intent?"
Theal changed the projection again.
Beast movement patterns appeared—distorted, looping, guided.
"The second anomaly," Theal said. "Resonance beasts are no longer acting independently. Their trails suggest synchronization."
Keal stepped closer. "Command?"
"No," Theal said. "Alignment. Someone—or something—is interfacing with their cores."
Jun's eyes darkened. "You're suggesting a control mechanism."
"A codex," Theal said. "Likely specialized. We have no confirmation of its user. Only its effects."
Keal was silent for a long moment.
"Then this is not invasion," he said finally. "It's preparation."
"Yes," Theal said. "And it will take time."
Jun straightened. "Which gives us time."
Keal nodded once. "Then we prepare better."