The academy went into lockdown before night fully fell.
Wards were reinforced, patrols doubled, and every instructor was recalled from external duties. The plaza was sealed off, the damage already being erased by repair constructs.
But the damage everyone felt—
That remained.
I was escorted through the halls by three senior instructors and one silent guardian construct whose mana signature alone made first-years flinch and step aside.
No one spoke to me.
They only watched.
We stopped before a tower I hadn't seen on any academy map.
"This isn't a dorm," I said.
"No," the silver-haired instructor replied. "It's a safeguard."
The doors opened without a touch.
Inside was a single living space—clean, spacious, layered with so many overlapping formations that the air itself felt structured. Defensive wards. Anti-teleport seals. Reality anchors.
And observation arrays.
"So this is protection," I said calmly.
"Yes," he replied just as calmly. "And containment."
Honest. I appreciated that.
"You'll be under direct supervision," he continued. "Movement restricted. Training monitored. No unscheduled contact with external parties."
"And my classes?"
"Private instruction."
I glanced at the ceiling, where invisible eyes quietly recalibrated.
"Do I get a choice?"
The blue-eyed instructor stepped forward. "This isn't punishment, Kai. It's the only way to keep you alive without tearing the academy apart."
"For how long?" I asked.
She hesitated.
"That depends on how the factions respond."
So indefinite.
Lena was standing near the doorway. She hadn't spoken yet, but I could feel her irritation radiating outward.
"You're isolating him," she said. "That's exactly what they want."
The silver-haired instructor met her gaze evenly. "And leaving him exposed would invite another massacre."
Silence stretched.
I finally nodded. "Fine."
Everyone paused.
"That was too easy," Ren muttered from somewhere behind us.
I looked back at them. "If someone wants me dead, locking me in the most secure place on campus won't stop them."
The blade whispered.
"Confinement does not equal safety."
That night, alone in the tower, I sat cross-legged at the center of the room.
The wards hummed softly, a lullaby made of control.
I reached inward—not for power, but for awareness.
My Despair Sense expanded.
Not outward.
Upward.
For a brief moment—
Something looked back.
Not directly.
Curious.
Amused.
The wards flickered.
Then stabilized.
I exhaled slowly.
"So," I murmured into the quiet room,
"they're protecting me from assassins."
The blade responded, voice sharp and certain.
"They are protecting the world from you."
I smiled faintly.
Outside the tower, noble factions argued. Councils convened. Orders were rewritten.
Inside—
I waited.
Because cages only worked on things that accepted them.
And I had already died once.