Week two arrived with thunderstorms and uncertainty.
Ethan had spent every spare moment preparing for the next preventable disaster: Elena Starweaver's laboratory accident. According to his Knowledge Archive, the incident would occur during her experiments with dimensional folding—a premature attempt at the same magic that would eventually make her famous.
In the original novel, the experiment went wrong, creating an unstable spatial tear that injured three students who were observing. Elena blamed herself for months afterward, her guilt delaying her magical development significantly.
The irony wasn't lost on Ethan. He had already helped Elena discover theoretical knowledge she shouldn't have—knowledge that might accelerate her experiments and cause the accident sooner.
I might have created the very disaster I'm trying to prevent.
The thought kept him awake at night.
He found Elena in the academy's eastern library, surrounded by towering stacks of books and scattered papers covered in equations. Her brown hair was more disheveled than usual, her glasses askew, her eyes rimmed with the dark circles of sleeplessness.
"Ethan!" She looked up with the manic energy of someone running on pure intellectual excitement. "Perfect timing! I've made a breakthrough!"
Oh no.
"What kind of breakthrough?" he asked carefully.
"The dimensional folding equations—they were wrong! The standard formulation assumes mana as a constant, but I realized it's actually variable depending on spatial density!" She thrust a paper at him, covered in mathematics that made his head spin despite his enhanced Intelligence. "If I adjust for density variance, I can create a stable fold instead of a tear!"
"That's... amazing. Have you tested it yet?"
"Tomorrow! I've scheduled the third experimental chamber for the afternoon. Professor Celeste approved my proposal." Her smile was radiant with anticipation. "This could change everything, Ethan. Stable dimensional folding would revolutionize transportation, storage, combat applications—"
"It could also be dangerous."
Elena's smile faltered. "Of course it's dangerous. All groundbreaking magic is dangerous. But the potential rewards—"
"Are meaningless if you're dead." Ethan sat down across from her, keeping his voice calm. "Elena, I've seen what happens when dimensional experiments go wrong. Spatial tears, reality distortions, people erased from existence. This isn't theoretical—it's real."
"How could you possibly know what happens when—" She stopped, her analytical mind catching up. "Your visions. You've seen my experiment fail, haven't you?"
Ethan considered his words carefully. "I've seen possibilities. Futures where the experiment goes wrong and people get hurt. Including you."
"What happens? In these possibilities?"
"An unstable spatial tear. Three observers injured. You survive, but the guilt affects you for months. Maybe longer."
Elena was quiet for a long moment. She took off her glasses and cleaned them slowly, a nervous habit Ethan had noticed before.
"And if I don't do the experiment?" she asked finally. "What happens then?"
"I don't know. The future isn't fixed—it changes based on our choices. But I know this: you're brilliant, Elena. One of the most brilliant minds of this generation. Your discoveries will save countless lives someday. I don't want to see that potential destroyed by rushing into something dangerous."
"So you think I should abandon my research?"
"No. I think you should be more careful. Run more calculations. Test with smaller-scale experiments first. Bring in backup—someone who can contain a spatial tear if one forms." He paused. "I'll be there if you want. My shields might help if something goes wrong."
Elena stared at him with an expression he couldn't read.
"You're very strange, Ethan Blackwood," she said finally. "You appear out of nowhere, knowing things you shouldn't know, caring about people you barely know. You saved those caravan workers. Now you're trying to save me. Why?"
Because in the original story, you were one of the most important people in the world. Because your discoveries saved millions. Because you deserved better than to be held back by one mistake.
"Because it's the right thing to do," he said instead.
Elena put her glasses back on, her eyes bright with something new—not just intellectual excitement, but genuine emotion.
"Okay," she said. "Okay. I'll redesign the experiment. Smaller scale, more safeguards, backup containment." She paused. "But you're coming with me. If you're so concerned, you can put your barriers where your mouth is."
"Gladly."
[QUEST UPDATED]
"Prevent the Laboratory Accident"
Status: In progress
Approach: Collaborative caution
Projected Outcome: Under revision
The next day, Ethan stood in Experimental Chamber Three, watching Elena set up her modified experiment.
The chamber was a cube of reinforced stone, thirty meters on each side, with runic wards etched into every surface. It was designed to contain magical accidents—explosions, summonings, transformations. But dimensional magic was unpredictable; Ethan wasn't sure the wards would help.
"Standard containment protocols aren't designed for spatial phenomena," Elena explained, as if reading his thoughts. "Dimensional tears can exist partially outside normal space, bypassing physical barriers. But I've modified the runic array to create a conceptual boundary—it doesn't just block energy, it blocks the idea of propagation."
"The idea?"
"Magic is partly conceptual. Spells work because we believe they work, because we impose structure on raw mana through force of will. The same applies to containment. If I believe strongly enough that nothing can escape this chamber, that belief becomes part of the barrier's structure."
It was the kind of abstract thinking that made Elena one of the greatest mages in the original novel. Ethan could follow the logic, barely, but he couldn't have come up with it himself.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked.
"Stand here." She positioned him near the chamber's entrance. "If something goes wrong, your shields will be the last line of defense. Try to contain any spatial instability for at least five seconds—that should be enough time for me to collapse the experiment."
"Five seconds. Got it."
The other observers—three students who had been allowed to watch the historic experiment—were positioned behind Ethan's position. In the original timeline, they had been standing closer, unprotected when the tear formed.
Professor Celeste Moonshadow was also present, her ancient elven features calm but watchful. She had agreed to observe after Elena presented her safety modifications.
"Beginning experiment," Elena announced. She raised her hands, mana gathering between her palms.
The equations she'd worked out materialized in the air—visible mathematics, formulae glowing with power. Ethan watched, fascinated, as she manipulated the calculations in real-time, adjusting variables as the spell progressed.
Space began to bend.
The air in the center of the chamber wavered like a heat mirage. Then it folded—there was no other word for it—doubling over on itself in ways that made Ethan's eyes water.
"Stable so far," Elena murmured. "Extending the fold..."
The distortion grew. A small tear appeared at its center—not a failure, but a controlled opening. Through it, Ethan glimpsed something impossible: the same chamber, but from a different angle, as if looking through a window into a parallel version of reality.
"I'm creating a two-point fold," Elena explained, her voice strained with concentration. "Point A is here. Point B is... also here, but offset by ten degrees of spatial rotation. If I can stabilize the connection, anything that enters Point A will exit at Point B instantaneously."
"Teleportation," Ethan breathed.
"The foundation for it, yes." Elena's hands trembled. "But something's wrong. The equations aren't—"
The tear pulsed.
Then it expanded.
"Containment!" Elena shouted. "Professor, I need—"
The modified runic array activated, glowing lines of power surrounding the spatial anomaly. But the tear was growing faster than the containment could compensate.
"Everyone back!" Ethan commanded, throwing up shields around the observers. "Elena, can you collapse it?"
"I'm trying! The spatial density is higher than I calculated—the fold is drawing mana from somewhere else—"
The tear reached the edge of the containment field. For one horrible moment, Ethan saw it begin to break through, reality cracking like glass under pressure.
Then Professor Celeste moved.
The ancient elf stepped forward, her hands weaving patterns that predated human civilization. Her voice spoke words in a language that hadn't been used in millennia. And space itself seemed to listen.
The tear shuddered. Its expansion slowed, then stopped, then reversed. Under Celeste's power, the anomaly collapsed back into itself, smaller and smaller, until it vanished entirely with a sound like a thunderclap in reverse.
Silence fell over the chamber.
"That," Professor Celeste said calmly, "was unwise."
Elena stood frozen, her face pale with shock. "I don't understand. The calculations were perfect. I accounted for everything—"
"You accounted for everything you knew," Celeste corrected. "But dimensional magic touches forces beyond mortal comprehension. There are things that even I, with eight hundred years of study, do not fully understand."
"I almost killed everyone."
"You almost caused an incident. The wards would have contained most of it." Celeste's voice softened slightly. "But yes. Your ambition exceeded your preparation. It is a common failing among brilliant minds."
Elena's composure cracked. Tears began streaming down her face.
"I thought I was ready. I thought I could—I was so sure—"
Ethan stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder.
"You learned something today," he said quietly. "Not just about dimensional magic, but about yourself. About your limits and how to exceed them safely."
"People could have died because of my arrogance."
"But they didn't. Because you listened when I warned you. Because you added safeguards. Because you brought Professor Celeste as backup." He turned her to face him. "In another version of this experiment, you didn't have those precautions. Three students were injured. Your guilt held you back for months. That didn't happen today."
Elena stared at him through her tears.
"Your visions," she whispered. "You saw this?"
"I saw possibilities. We made different choices, and those possibilities changed." He handed her a handkerchief. "This isn't a failure, Elena. It's a lesson. The most important lesson any researcher can learn: that being wrong is okay, as long as you prepare for it."
Professor Celeste nodded slowly. "The boy speaks wisdom beyond his years. Listen to him, Miss Starweaver. Your theories are sound—I have reviewed them myself. But theory must be tempered by experience. Come to my office tomorrow. I will teach you the preparatory steps that eight centuries have shown me are essential for dimensional experimentation."
"You... you would teach me?"
"I have not taken a student in two hundred years. Your mind changes that. But only if you can learn humility to match your brilliance."
Elena wiped her eyes, composure slowly returning. "Yes, Professor. I would be honored."
[QUEST COMPLETE]
"Prevent the Laboratory Accident"
Original Outcome: 3 injuries, Elena's development delayed by 6 months
New Outcome: 0 injuries, Elena gains mentorship under Professor Celeste
Rewards:
600 System Points Elena's affection increased significantly Professor Celeste's respect earned Butterfly Effect: Elena's accelerated development unlocked
That evening, Elena found Ethan in the library.
She had cleaned up since the experiment—fresh clothes, hair properly combed, glasses straight on her nose. But her eyes were still red from crying, and she moved with the careful deliberation of someone whose worldview had been shaken.
"I owe you an apology," she said, sitting across from him. "And my thanks."
"You don't owe me either."
"I do." She folded her hands on the table. "I was arrogant. I thought because I understood the theory, I was ready for the practice. You tried to warn me, and I almost ignored you."
"But you didn't. That's what matters."
"Why did you warn me at all?" Her blue eyes were intense behind her lenses. "We've known each other for less than a month. I'm nobody special—just a commoner who's good at magic. Why would you risk yourself to save me?"
Because you become one of the greatest mages in history. Because your dimensional research saves thousands of lives during the Demon War. Because you deserve to reach that potential.
"Because you're my friend," Ethan said instead. It was true, even if it wasn't the whole truth. "And because I believe in you. Your brilliance isn't just theory, Elena—it's something that can change the world. I want to see you reach that potential. Safely."
Elena was quiet for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, she reached across the table and took his hand.
"I'm not good at emotions," she said. "My family wasn't... affectionate. I learned to value logic over feeling because feelings were unreliable. But what you did today—warning me, protecting the observers, being there when I failed—that made me feel something I'm not used to."
"What?"
"Safe." Her cheeks flushed slightly. "I felt safe. For the first time in a long time."
"That's what friends are for."
"Is that all we are?" Her eyes met his directly. "Friends?"
Ethan's heart rate increased. He hadn't expected this conversation to go in this direction.
"What do you want us to be?" he asked carefully.
"I don't know yet." She released his hand, but her eyes didn't leave his. "But I want to find out. If you're willing."
"I'm willing."
Elena smiled—a genuine smile, without calculation or reserve.
"Good. Then let's start with something simple." She pulled out a stack of papers. "I want you to review my revised dimensional equations. Your perspective might catch mistakes I'm too close to see."
Ah. There's the Elena I know.
But Ethan smiled and took the papers. This, too, was connection. This, too, was friendship—and maybe something more.
[AFFECTION UPDATE]
Elena Starweaver: 52 → 64/100 (Deep Interest)
Chapter 18: The Shadow Guild Moves
The message came at midnight.
Ethan was asleep when his system alarm triggered—a new feature he'd discovered after the caravan incident. He'd set it to alert him to any major plot developments that occurred off-screen in the original novel.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
Shadow Guild Advance Team Detected
Location: Celestia Academy, Underground Passages
Mission: Intelligence Gathering, Target Assessment
Primary Target: Luna Nightshade
Time Until Detection (Original Timeline): 6 days
Recommendation: Intercept now for maximum advantage
Ethan dressed quickly and moved through the academy's dark corridors.
He had memorized the layout of the underground passages during his first weeks here—knowledge gleaned from the novel's descriptions of later events. The passages were supposed to be secret, known only to senior faculty and select students with special clearance.
The Shadow Guild knew them better than anyone in the academy.
Luna's father has been planning this for years, Ethan remembered. He has agents everywhere. The only reason he hasn't retrieved her before now is that she's been useful as an unwitting spy.
But that was changing. Luna's loyalty had shifted. Her father knew it, and he was preparing contingencies.
The underground passages were cold and damp, lit by fading glow-stones that hadn't been maintained in decades. Ethan moved carefully, his enhanced perception scanning for threats.
His [Temporal Sense] pinged.
Danger. Ahead. Two sources.
He pressed himself against the wall, slowing his breathing. In the darkness ahead, two figures moved with practiced silence—Shadow Guild operatives, probably scouts mapping escape routes for Luna's eventual extraction.
Ethan considered his options.
He could retreat and warn Luna. That was the safe choice—let her deal with her father's agents, avoid getting involved in guild business.
But running away wouldn't give him the intelligence he needed. Wouldn't tell him how many agents were in the academy, what their full mission parameters were, how close the extraction attempt was.
Knowledge is power. And I need more power.
He reached for his mana and began forming a shield—not to block an attack, but to amplify his [Mana Sense]. The technique was experimental, something he'd been developing based on Elena's theories about mana as a conceptual medium.
If mana could carry concepts, it could carry perception. Extending his awareness through the shield, riding the magical structure like a wave, reaching toward the operatives ahead...
—inventory assessment: twelve confirmed students, priority targets marked—
—extraction window: tournament week, chaos coverage optimal—
—backup protocols: if primary target resists, eliminate and retrieve body—
The thoughts hit Ethan like physical blows. He wasn't just sensing their presence—he was reading their surface intentions, the focused thoughts that accompanied their mission.
This is new.
[SKILL EVOLUTION]
Mana Sense (Common) → Intention Reading (Rare)
Effect: Can perceive surface thoughts and intentions of targets within mana field range
Limitation: Only works on unfocused minds; trained occlumens can resist
Warning: Extended use may cause mental fatigue
He pulled back before the operatives noticed his probing. The information was valuable—he now knew the rough timeline and backup plan. But he needed more.
Time to take a risk.
He stepped out of the shadows, directly into the operatives' path.
"Good evening," he said conversationally. "You're not supposed to be here."
The operatives reacted instantly. One drew a blade; the other began casting a shadow spell.
Ethan's shield snapped up, deflecting the spell and giving him a precious second.
"Wait," he said quickly. "I'm not your enemy. I have information about Luna Nightshade—information her father will want."
The operatives paused, exchanging glances.
"Who are you?" the blade-wielder demanded. Female voice, cold and professional.
"Ethan Blackwood. You've probably heard of me—the 'Prophet Student.' I know things about the future. Things that could be very valuable to the Shadow Guild."
"We could just kill you and search your body for documents."
"You could try." Ethan kept his voice calm despite his racing heart. "But I'm A-Rank combat ready, my shields have blocked attacks from demons, and the academy's security will investigate any violence in these passages. Your mission would be compromised."
Silence. The operatives were calculating, just as he'd hoped.
"What do you want?" the spell-caster asked. Male voice, equally cold.
"A meeting with your master. Not her father—I know he's not really in charge anymore. I want to meet the one who gives him orders."
More silence. This was the gamble—Ethan was bluffing based on fragments from the original novel. The Shadow Guild had multiple layers of leadership, and Kael Nightshade wasn't actually at the top.
"You know about the Council," the female operative said slowly. "That's not public knowledge."
"Like I said—I know things about the future."
"A seer."
"Something like that."
The operatives exchanged another glance, communicating in some silent guild code.
"We'll pass your message along," the male operative said finally. "If the Council is interested, you'll be contacted. If they're not..."
"I'll take that as a no and move on." Ethan stepped aside, giving them a clear path forward. "I suggest you leave before the patrol finds you. Professor Marcus checks these passages at two o'clock."
The operatives moved past him, then vanished into the shadows.
Ethan released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
That was stupid. That was incredibly stupid.
But it was also necessary. He needed to understand the power structure above Luna's father. He needed allies—or at least, enemies who found him valuable enough to keep alive.
He found Luna waiting in his quarters when he returned.
She sat in the darkness, violet eyes gleaming like a cat's.
"You met my father's scouts," she said. It wasn't a question.
"You were watching."
"Always." She stood, flowing from the chair with predatory grace. "What were you thinking? They could have killed you."
"But they didn't."
"Because you intrigued them. That won't last." She stepped closer, her expression dangerous. "You mentioned the Council. How do you know about them?"
"I know lots of things, Luna. That's kind of my whole deal."
"This is different. The Council is the Shadow Guild's true ruling body—seven masters who command from the shadows. My father is just their enforcer. If you've drawn their attention..."
"Then I've created an opportunity." Ethan met her gaze calmly. "Your father is coming for you during the tournament. I know about the extraction plan, the elimination protocols if you resist. I need more information to stop him—and the Council might provide it."
"Or they might decide you're too dangerous and eliminate you."
"That's the risk."
Luna stared at him for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed—a harsh, humorless sound.
"You're insane," she said. "Completely insane. I've never met anyone who walks toward danger as eagerly as you do."
"I don't walk toward danger. I walk toward people who need help."
"Same thing, in my experience." She turned away, moving toward the window. "The Council won't meet with you. They don't meet with anyone—that's how they've stayed hidden for three hundred years."
"Then I'll make them curious enough to break protocol."
"How?"
Ethan pulled out a piece of paper he'd prepared before the encounter. It contained a list of names—seven names, with brief descriptions.
"By showing them I already know who they are."
Luna took the paper, her eyes widening as she read.
"This is... how? These identities are protected by magic that should be unbreakable."
"Nothing is unbreakable. Everything has a weakness, including magical protection." Ethan didn't mention that he'd simply remembered the names from the novel's eventual reveal. "If the Council won't meet with me, I'll release that list to every noble house in the empire. Their three-hundred-year anonymity ends."
"They'll kill you."
"Maybe. Or maybe they'll decide I'm more useful alive." He shrugged. "Either way, I'm forcing their hand. They can't ignore me now."
Luna was silent, reading the list again and again as if trying to find a flaw.
"You're gambling with your life," she said finally.
"I gamble with my life every day. At least this time, I'm controlling the stakes."
Luna set the paper down and looked at him with an expression he couldn't read.
"I don't understand you, Ethan Blackwood. You have no reason to help me—I've offered you nothing, promised you nothing, given you nothing. Yet you keep risking yourself for my sake."
"Everyone deserves a chance to choose their own life."
"Do they? I was raised to believe that some people are tools, meant to be used and discarded. My father certainly believes it." Her voice was bitter. "What makes you different?"
"I've seen what happens when tools become people." Ethan thought of Luna's arc in the original novel—the slow awakening, the painful growth, the eventual heroism. "You're not a weapon, Luna. You're a person who was never given permission to be anything else."
"And you think you can give me that permission?"
"No. Only you can give yourself permission. I'm just... opening the door."
Luna was quiet for a long time.
Then she moved, crossing the room in a single fluid motion. Before Ethan could react, she pressed her lips to his cheek.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For opening the door."
Then she was gone, vanishing into shadows as easily as breathing.
Ethan stood alone in his dark quarters, hand touching the place where her lips had been.
[AFFECTION UPDATE]
Luna Nightshade: 48 → 58/100 (Growing Trust)
The Council's response came three days later.
It wasn't a meeting—it was an invitation. An anonymous letter slipped under his door, written in cipher that his system helpfully decoded.
Prophet Student—
Your knowledge is impressive and dangerous. The Council has decided that you represent either a significant asset or an existential threat. We prefer to resolve such ambiguity through conversation rather than violence.
A representative will meet you at the location encoded below. Come alone. Come prepared to prove your value.
If this is a trap, be aware: we have held power for three centuries. We have survived assassinations, purges, and divine interventions. You will not be the one to end us.
If this is genuine, we may have common interests. The enemy of our enemy, and so forth.
Choose wisely.
—The Seventh Voice
Ethan decoded the location: an abandoned temple on the edge of the academy's grounds, at midnight tonight.
This is either the best decision I've ever made, he thought, or the last decision I'll ever make.
He started preparing for the meeting.