The Aetherium was a paradise for training. For the next week, Arlan threw himself into it. He woke up early, ate the food the machines made, and trained until he dropped.
Lyra had a plan for him. She made him do simple, hard things over and over.
For his Space power, she made him practice teleportation. Not the desperate, shaky hops he used to do. Real teleportation. He started by moving a pebble from one hand to the other without moving his arms. It was frustrating. The pebble would vanish and reappear in the dirt, or halfway across the room. But slowly, he got it. He could move the pebble. Then a cup. Then himself. It was a short jump, just three feet, and it drained a lot of his mana, but he did it. Short-Range Blink. It was his first real teleport skill.
Space Affinity Proficiency: Advanced 12% -> 14%
New Skill: Short-Range Blink (Level 1). Cost: 50 Mana. Range: 3 meters.
For his Darkness power, Lyra had a different idea. "Darkness isn't just hiding," she said. "It's cold. It's heavy. It's the end of things." She made him practice in the Dark Sector.
First, she had him try to make the darkness cold. Not just the absence of light, but a chill that bit to the bone. He focused, pushing his Umbral mana out around his hands. The air grew frosty. He could make his fingertips so cold they numbed his skin. Chilling Touch.
Then, she had him make the darkness solid. He tried to form a simple shield in front of him, not of metal or light, but of packed, tangible shadow. It was hard. The shadow wanted to drift and fade. But after a hundred tries, he managed a small, wobbly disc of blackness that could stop a thrown pebble. Shadow Shield (Basic).
Darkness Affinity Proficiency: Advanced 15% -> 18%
New Skills: Chilling Touch (Level 1). Shadow Shield - Basic (Level 1).
For the Amethyst Voidfire, it was about control. The purple flame was wild and hungry. Lyra had him practice making small, precise shapes. A thin line of fire to cut a rope. A small ball to melt a lock. He learned to throw the fire—a Voidfire Bolt. It wasn't a huge blast, but a focused lance of purple flame that burned with a strange, cold heat.
Heavenly Flame Proficiency: Intermediate 15% -> 18%
New Skill: Voidfire Bolt (Level 1).
He also sparred with Kaelen every afternoon. Kaelen didn't use fancy magic. He used a simple sword and a will that cut through everything. He was still weak from his injuries, but he was a far better fighter. He taught Arlan footwork, how to breathe, how to turn a missed strike into a feint. "Your fancy powers mean nothing if you lose your head," Kaelen grunted, after disarming Arlan for the tenth time.
Arlan wasn't the only one training. Selene was busy too. Using her own network of witches and contacts, she was gathering information on the Accord's movements. She sent regular updates.
One evening, a message came through the secure communicator Lyra had set up. It was Selene's voice, tense.
"The Accord is moving. They're pulling teams from the eastern badlands and the southern jungles. They're converging. The pattern points to the capital province. To the academy. Lyra's intel was right. They're getting ready for something big."
Lyra's face was grim. "The Grand Melee is in sixteen days. That's their window."
"We need to warn people," Arlan said.
"Who would believe us?" Kaelen said, sharpening his practice blade. "A wanted refugee, a disgraced prodigy, and a Solara heiress who's been lying to her family? We need proof they can't ignore."
Selene's voice crackled again. "I might have something. One of my contacts works in city sanitation near the academy's lower vaults. He's seen strange cargo being delivered under the cover of night for weeks. Not academy supplies. He described the crates—grey alloy, no markings, humming with a low sound that makes animals flee. He managed to snag a piece of packing material. I had it analyzed. It's lined with a mana-dampening weave used by... private military contractors. The kind the Accord uses."
It was a clue. A thin one, but real.
"We need to get that sample," Lyra said. "And see the delivery point for ourselves. Visual proof of an Accord buildup under the academy."
"Then what?" Arlan asked.
"Then," Lyra said, "we take it to the one person in the academy who might listen, and who has the authority to act without tipping off the Accord's spies."
"Who?"
"Head Proctor Vance,"Lyra and Arlan said at the same time.
Kaelen shook his head. "The aunt of your rival? The one who had you thrown into the Deeps?"
"She followed protocol," Lyra said. "And she genuinely wants to protect the academy and its students. She is rigid, not corrupt. If we show her undeniable proof of an imminent attack on her watch, she will act. She has access to the faculty security council and the internal guard."
The plan was simple, and dangerous.
1. Infiltrate the academy outskirts, near the lower vault delivery zone.
2. Retrieve the physical sample from Selene's contact.
3. Scout and record evidence of the Accord's hidden staging area.
4. Get that evidence to Head Proctor Vance, without being caught by Accord watchers or academy patrols.
"We leave at first light," Lyra said. "The Aetherium has a small, stealth transport. We'll land fifty miles out and approach on foot. Selene will meet us at the rendezvous with the sample."
Arlan spent the last night before the mission checking his gear. He looked at his status.
Status Window - Arlan Thorne
Cultivation:3rd Order, Rank 5
Core Instability:12%
Mana:1850 / 2000
Umbral Mana:750 / 800
Physique:A
---
Affinity Proficiency:
Space:Advanced (14%)
Darkness:Advanced (18%)
Heavenly Flame:Intermediate (18%)
---
Key Skills: Dimensional Slash, Short-Range Blink, Umbral Sight, Shadow-Slip, Chilling Touch, Shadow Shield, Voidfire Bolt.
Intent:Seed - "Break" [Negation Pulse - Unstable]
He was stronger than he'd ever been. But he knew the Accord had people stronger.
He thought of the academy. Of Dorian, Mira, Jax, and the others. They were down there, training for a school tournament, unaware that a real army might be coming for them.
He had to do this.
---
Dawn came. The stealth transport was a sleek, black craft that made no sound. Lyra piloted. Kaelen sat in the back, his eyes closed, conserving his strength. Arlan watched the Aetherium's beautiful, chaotic sky-river shrink away below them.
After a few hours, Lyra set them down in a dense forest far from any road. "From here, we walk. Rendezvous with Selene is at the old mill, ten miles north of the academy's outer wall. We move at night."
They hiked through the woods, using Arlan's Umbral Sight to navigate in the deepening dusk. They avoided towns and patrol roads. It was slow, tense work.
They reached the old, broken-down water mill just after midnight. The place was dark and smelled of rot and wet stone.
Selene was already there, waiting in the shadows. She looked tired but alert. Beside her was a short, nervous-looking man in grimy overalls—her contact.
"Arlan," Selene said, her voice a whisper. She looked him over, her amber eyes missing nothing. "You look... stronger." She then nodded to Lyra and Kaelen. "This is Gerren. He works the night shift in the utility tunnels."
Gerren held out a trembling hand. In it was a folded piece of strange, greyish fabric. It felt slick and dead, like it was sucking the warmth from Arlan's fingers. "T-took this from a busted crate they left behind," Gerren stammered. "They come every third night. Next delivery is tomorrow. They use the old sewer overflow gate near the western cliff. It's supposed to be sealed, but they opened it."
Lyra took the fabric, examining it with a small, silver scanner from her pocket. It beeped softly, confirming the mana-dampening properties. "This is Accord manufacture. High-grade. This is proof."
"We need to see it for ourselves," Arlan said. "We need images, mana-signature recordings."
Selene nodded. "I can get you into the utility tunnels. Gerren will show us the access shaft closest to the overflow gate. But after that, you're on your own. The area will be watched."
Gerren led them through the dark forest to a hidden hatch covered in leaves. It led down into a narrow, brick-lined tunnel that smelled of damp and rust. They followed him for what felt like miles, the only light coming from Lyra's small wrist-lamp.
Finally, Gerren stopped at a metal ladder bolted to the wall. "Up there," he whispered. "That grate opens into an alley behind the old storage sheds. The cliff and the overflow gate are two hundred yards west. Be careful. They have... things... walking the perimeter. Not men. Machines."
Selene placed a hand on Gerren's shoulder. "Thank you. Get home. Forget you saw us." The man nodded eagerly and scurried back the way they came.
Arlan climbed the ladder first. He pushed open the heavy grate just enough to peer out. The alley was dark and empty. He slipped out, followed by the others. They were behind a row of abandoned supply sheds on the very edge of the academy grounds, where the manicured lawns met the wild cliffs.
In the distance, they could see the glowing spires of the main academy buildings. Here, it was all shadows and decay.
Lyra pointed westward, toward the low rumble of the sea against the cliffs. "There."
They moved like ghosts. Arlan used Shadow-Slip, his form blending with the darkness. Lyra seemed to simply absorb the scant light around her. Kaelen moved with a soldier's trained silence.
They reached the edge of a cleared area. Ahead was the cliff face. Set into it was a massive, rusted iron gate—the old overflow channel, big enough for a truck to drive through. It was slightly ajar.
And the area around it was not abandoned.
Parked under camouflage nets were several sleek, grey vehicles that looked like armored trucks without wheels, hovering silently a foot off the ground. Crates were stacked neatly nearby. And walking patrols were two of the Reavers, the insect-like machines Arlan had seen in the Deeps. Their red sensor eyes swept back and forth.
But there was something else. Standing by the open gate, talking in low tones, were two men. They weren't in Null-Suits. They wore the dark blue uniforms of the Academy External Security Force.
Arlan's blood ran cold.
Lyra saw it too. Her breath hitched. "No..."
One of the security men laughed at something, accepting a small data-chip from a third figure who stepped out of the shadows near the gate. This third figure was tall, wearing a long coat, his face hidden. But his aura... it was that familiar, sickly grey-green. An Accord operative.
The security guard was taking a bribe. Or following orders. The Accord wasn't just sneaking in. They had help. From inside.
As they watched, the Accord operative pointed toward the academy. The two security guards nodded and walked off, heading back toward the main gate, leaving the area to the Reavers.
Kaelen cursed under his breath. "They've bought the watchdogs. The perimeter is compromised."
"We have our proof," Lyra said, her voice cold with fury. She raised a small device, capturing clear images of the vehicles, the crates, the Reavers, and the interaction with the academy guards. She also took a mana-signature scan, which lit up with the distinct, ugly fingerprint of Accord tech.
"Now we get this to Vance," Arlan said.
They began to retreat, backing away into the deeper shadows of the sheds.
They didn't see the third Reaver.
It was perched on the roof of a shed above them, perfectly still. Its red eye swiveled down, locking onto Lyra's faint silhouette.
A silent alarm was triggered.
The two Reavers on the ground snapped their heads toward the shed. With a mechanical shriek, they charged, vibro-blades extending.
"Run!" Kaelen yelled.
They burst from the shadows, sprinting back toward the alley and the grate. The Reavers were fast, skittering over the ground with terrifying speed.
Arlan turned, planting his feet. He couldn't let them follow to the tunnel.
He raised both hands. Darkness and Flame.
From his left hand, he shot a Voidfire Bolt. The lance of purple fire struck the lead Reaver in the chest. It didn't explode. The flame clung and ate, burning through the metal and chitin with a hiss. The Reaver stumbled, its front legs giving way.
From his right hand, he unleashed the Chilling Touch, but not as a touch. He pushed the Umbral mana out in a wave. A cone of biting, soul-deep cold washed over the second Reaver. Its joints seized up, frost forming on its shell. It slowed, movements becoming jerky.
"Arlan, now!" Lyra shouted from the alley entrance.
He turned and ran. He could hear the damaged Reavers scrambling to pursue, and new alert sounds coming from the camp.
They dove through the grate, Kaelen pulling it shut behind them. They could hear the skittering of claws on metal above.
"Go, go, go!" Selene urged, already moving down the tunnel.
They ran through the dark, their footsteps echoing. Behind them, they heard the screech of metal being torn. The Reavers were breaking through the grate.
They had the proof. But now, the Accord knew they were here.
And they were trapped underground with hunters on their tail.