Awareness returned in layers.
First, the smell. Sharp antiseptic and clean linen. The school infirmary.
Then, the pain. A deep, throbbing ache wrapped around both his forearms. Not a muscle ache. A raw, tender, screaming nerve pain.
Finally, the sound. A low, tense conversation nearby.
"...total structural compromise of the simulation chamber. The repair costs alone—"
"Understood, Headmaster. The cause?"
Aiden forced his eyes open. The ceiling tiles were white and pitted. His arms were heavy. He looked down.
His arms from elbows to wrists were wrapped in thick, white med-pads. A faint, cool tingling sensation seeped from them—healing magic. But beneath that coolness, the pain burned.
"The cause," said a deeper, colder voice, "is lying right here."
Aiden turned his head. The movement made his neck stiff.
Headmaster Vance stood at the foot of the bed. He was a tall man, dressed in a severe grey suit, his hair silver and perfectly combed. He didn't look at Aiden like a student who'd been injured. He looked at him like a broken piece of equipment.
Beside him stood Instructor Rykker. Battle-scarred, with a close-cropped beard and eyes that missed nothing. He taught Advanced Dungeon Tactics. He had never once called on Aiden in class.
A nurse fussed with a monitor beside Aiden, her face carefully neutral.
"He's awake," she said softly.
Both men's attention locked onto him. Vance's gaze was heavy. Rykker's was like a probe.
"Aiden Ward," Vance began, his voice smooth and devoid of warmth. "Can you tell us what happened in Chamber Seven?"
Aiden's throat was parched. "The wolf… there was a wolf. I was trapped."
"The security feeds show a wolf entering the chamber," Rykker cut in, his tone clipped. "They show you backing against the wall. Then they show an uncontrolled thermal event of extraordinary magnitude. The wolf's signature vanished. You were found with secondary burns. Explain the thermal event."
Lyra. The girl of fire. The silent scream.
But the security feeds hadn't shown her. They'd only shown the fire.
"I… I don't know," Aiden croaked. It was the truth, and it was a lie.
"Your Class is Creation, F-rank," Vance stated, as if reading a damning report. "[Minor Object Replication]. It has no elemental component. It cannot, by any known metric, generate fire."
"I didn't generate it," Aiden said, pushing himself up on his elbows. The pain in his arms flared. "It just… appeared."
"It just appeared," Rykker repeated, his skepticism a physical weight in the room. "A latent affinity. Unregistered. Uncontrolled. Do you understand what that means, Ward?"
Aiden stayed silent.
"It means," Vance answered for him, "you are a systemic anomaly. A flaw. That outburst of power damaged school property, disrupted the trial, and forced a full dungeon reset. The financial and reputational costs are significant."
The words weren't about his safety. They were about cost and reputation.
"The containment field failed," Aiden said, the memory of distant screams clear. "The wolves got loose. It wasn't just me."
A flicker of something cold passed behind Vance's eyes. "The incident is under review. Your unstable manifestation is a separate, and more immediate, concern. Until we determine the nature and trigger of this… latent ability, you are classified as a Containment Risk."
He pulled a small, metallic slate from his pocket and tapped it. A hologram appeared above Aiden's bed.
Aiden Ward
Class: Creation - F Rank
Status: System Anomaly, Risk-Level: Contain.
Note: Manifested unstable pyrokinetic ability. Subject to observation and restricted practice. All damages incurred are liable to student account.
The words glowed, official and final. His permanent record. Branded.
"My rank?" Aiden heard himself ask, a hollow feeling in his gut.
"Remains F," Rykker said flatly. "Power without control is not power. It is a hazard. You will report to my office twice weekly for 'stability assessment.' Any further incidents will result in expulsion and a recommendation for system quarantine."
They weren't trying to help him understand. They were boxing him up. Labeling him. Making him the cause of all their problems.
Vance gave one last, impersonal look. "Focus on controlling whatever this is, Ward. For your own good."
The two men left, their footsteps echoing in the sterile silence.
The nurse finished her checks. "The med-pads stay on for 24 hours. No getting them wet." She offered a thin, pitying smile before leaving him alone.
Anomaly. Containment Risk. Liable.
The words buzzed in his skull. The hollow feeling filled with a slow, simmering heat. It wasn't the pain from his burns. This heat came from deeper. From his chest. It pulsed in time with his heartbeat, a low, angry ember.
He was alone for a long time, staring at the ceiling.
The door hissed open later. Not a teacher. Leo slipped in, his slight frame moving with a scout's quiet grace. His eyes, always a bit too keen, took in everything: Aiden's bandaged arms, the empty room, the grim set of Aiden's jaw.
Leo pulled up the visitor's chair. "Heard you tried to redecorate the catacombs with fire."
Aiden didn't answer.
Leo's smirk faded. He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "Look. The feeds are being scrubbed. But my cousin works in systems maintenance. He heard the teachers talking. The containment field in Sector Three failed because old man Gerran input the wrong stabilization sequence. A total human error."
Aiden turned his head. "What?"
"Yeah. But admitting a teacher screwed up? That's a lawsuit. A scandal. The repair bills are huge." Leo nodded toward the door where Vance had stood. "But if a student with an unstable, undocumented power caused a catastrophic feedback loop that blew the field and wrecked a chamber… well. The school's insurance covers 'student-induced anomalies.' The liability shifts. The narrative is clean. One faulty student, not a faulty system."
The simmering heat in Aiden's chest flared. It wasn't his anger alone. It felt… fed. He saw a flicker in the air by the window, a twist of heat haze for a second, gone when he blinked.
They'd pinned it all on him. To save face. To save money.
"They branded me," Aiden said, his voice quiet and rough.
"I saw the status update," Leo said, not unkindly. "'Contain.' They're watching you, Aiden. Every move."
Aiden looked at his bandaged arms, at the ghost of a heat haze near the window. He had a power that could turn a dungeon wolf to ash. A power that was tied to a screaming, burning girl no one else could see. A power that made him a target for the very people who were supposed to protect him.
The fear from the dungeon was still there, cold in his stomach.
But beneath it, stoked by the unfairness, by Leo's truth, by that pulsing heat in his core, something new was taking shape.
It wasn't defiance yet. It was the quiet, solid understanding of a cornered animal.
They had given him a name: Anomaly. Containment Risk.
And for the first time, lying in that infirmary bed with the weight of their lies on his chest and a ghost's fire in his veins, Aiden Ward started to believe them.