"Swoosh—"

The door slid open with a smooth mechanical sound as a woman stepped out, her royal blue hair falling loosely over her shoulders, a single piece of robe draped over her body as she adjusted it with practiced ease, pulling the cord tighter around her waist, securing it in place without breaking her stride.

"Since when did the signal disappear..." she murmured, her tone low, thoughtful rather than alarmed, as her fingers moved upward, gathering her hair with fluid precision before tying it into a firm knot, letting the rest fall into a sleek ponytail that rested over one shoulder.

She paused for a brief moment.

"I see..."

The words came softly, yet carried weight, as though something had already fallen into place within her mind.

She continued walking.

Her steps steady and measured.

The corridor stretched ahead, the faint glow of academy lights reflecting off polished floors as she moved through the silent space, her presence alone enough to give the atmosphere a certain sharpness, until she emerged into the open courtyard, where the night air lingered with a calm that felt almost disconnected from what was unfolding elsewhere.

"What were the students name again...?" she muttered under her breath, her brows knitting slightly as she searched her memory.

Then—

She stopped abruptly.

Something flickered across her eyes.

Subtle yet distinct.

Without another word, she turned.

Changing direction instantly.

"Keep a look out for any information and keep me informed," she said calmly, though it was unclear who exactly the instruction was meant for, as she moved again with renewed purpose, her pace slightly faster now as she changed her direction and entered another corridor.

Her steps echoed faintly as she advanced deeper into the administrative wing, her destination clear as she came to a stop outside a particular cabin, the door standing closed, the atmosphere around it carrying a quiet authority.

She took a slow breath.

Then pushed the door open.

Inside—

A voice greeted her immediately.

"For you to come in without knocking... it seems extremely urgent, Elowen."

Elowen stepped in and bowed slightly, her posture respectful yet composed.

"Yes, Dean."

Behind the desk, Adrielle sat with her usual composed elegance, adjusting her glasses lightly as she looked up, her sharp eyes settling onto Elowen with quiet interest.

"So," Adrielle said, her tone calm yet probing, "what is it?"

Elowen straightened from her bow, her expression composed as she reached up and removed a small, sleek earpiece from her ear, holding it lightly between her fingers as she began her report in a calm, measured tone.

"Three first-year Manacrons have lost connection with the system."

Adrielle did not react immediately.

Instead, she lowered her gaze back to the documents spread across her desk, her interest seemingly fading as quickly as it had been piqued, her pen moving smoothly across the page as she spoke without looking up.

"You could have just reported it to the Crownspire Investigation Unit," she said flatly.

Elowen did not move.

"The students who have disappeared are... Mira Halewind... Serena Valmont..."

That was enough.

Adrielle’s pen paused.

Her hand stilled.

Then she looked up, her expression shifting as she leaned back slightly in her chair, a quiet sigh escaping her as she brought a hand to her forehead.

"Let me guess the third name..." she said, her tone edged with mild irritation, "Damon Valecrest."

Elowen’s eyes widened just slightly for a brief moment, caught off guard by the accuracy, but the reaction vanished almost instantly as her usual composed smile returned, and she nodded.

"Yes, Dean."

She continued without delay.

"There is one more thing that should be reported to you, Dean."

Adrielle lowered her hand and looked at her again, her gaze sharper now.

"What is it?"

"A breach opened suddenly in the middle of the city," Elowen said, her tone steady, "so most likely... they fell into it."

For a moment—

Adrielle simply exhaled.

A quiet breath of relief.

"Which level is it?" she asked.

Elowen’s smile remained as she answered.

"Although it has not been officially appraised... it should be a Level 2 breach."

Adrielle nodded faintly, already returning her attention to the documents in front of her as she resumed her work, her earlier concern fading into something far more measured.

Elowen tilted her head slightly.

"Ahh... are we not going to do anything?" she asked, her tone light, though the question carried weight beneath it.

Adrielle did not look up this time.

"They are rankers of Crownspire Academy," she replied calmly, "they should at least have the ability to keep themselves alive until someone clears the breach."

Elowen nodded slowly, a faint smile lingering.

"But the authorities..." she added, almost thoughtfully, "they are too corrupt to act with any real urgency."

Adrielle paused again, just for a moment, before exhaling softly.

"Just contact their families."

Time passed.

Not long.

But enough.

Eventually, Adrielle spoke again, her eyes still on her work.

"So... what did they say?"

Elowen’s smile returned, subtle yet unmistakable as she began recounting the responses one by one.

"Duke Valecrest..." she said, her tone even, "If he can’t even survive inside a Level 2 breach... he should just die."

There was no reaction from Adrielle.

Elowen continued.

"Count Halewind..." she said, her smile almost amused now, "Oh... did you say she is with Young Duke? Oh hahahaha... good, good... it might be a great chance for the two of them to grow closer, benefiting both families."

A brief pause.

Then—

"Duchess Valmont..." she added, her tone softening slightly, "Is that so? Foolish child... we will see what we can do."

Silence followed.

Elowen then gave a small, polite nod.

"I will just go on to the scene."

And with that—

She turned to leave.

***

Damon’s grip tightened around Ethan’s wrist just as his hand was about to reach the blue, glowing cube suspended in midair, halting him mid-motion as his voice came out calm, yet carrying an unmistakable edge.

"Not so fast..."

Ethan turned toward him, confusion flickering across his face, while Mira and Serena both looked between them, their expressions uncertain, not yet understanding what had shifted, but instinctively stepping into guarded stances as the tension in the air changed.

Ethan let out a small, awkward laugh, attempting to brush it off.

"Heheh... you want to do it yourself?" he said lightly.

Damon smiled.

But there was no warmth in it.

His eyes remained cold.

"How long are you going to act?" he asked quietly.

Ethan froze.

"Huh?" he responded, the confusion sounding more forced now than genuine.

Behind Damon, Serena and Mira tightened their stances further, their instincts catching up to what their minds had not yet fully processed.

Then—

Ethan moved.

His legs shifted suddenly, the flesh distorting as metallic structures burst through from beneath, the transformation seamless yet unsettling as mechanical joints replaced organic form, propelling him backward with unnatural speed as he broke free from Damon’s hold and distanced himself from the group.

He landed several steps away.

And this time—

There was no pretense.

His eyes widened slightly, not in fear, but in acknowledgment, as he looked directly at Damon.

"...When did you realize?" he asked.

Damon turned fully toward him, the sledgehammer still resting on his shoulder as his gaze remained steady.

"You made it too easy," he replied, his tone flat, "Ethan..."

A brief pause.

Then—

"Or should I say... founder of these constructs."

The words hit hard.

Serena and Mira’s eyes widened instantly, shock flashing across their faces as their gaze snapped between Damon and Ethan, the realization crashing in all at once.

Ethan’s expression shifted.

Not entirely.

But enough.

Then—

His body began to violently.

One half of his form distorted, the skin splitting apart as metallic structures emerged from within, replacing flesh with exposed mechanical frameworks, wires, and reinforced plating, while the other half remained human, creating a grotesque fusion of organic and artificial, the boundary between the two jagged and unnatural.

His eye on the mechanical side began to glow, a sharp, pulsating red that burned far brighter than before, carrying within it a cold, calculated awareness that no longer resembled anything human, as though whatever warmth had once existed there had been completely stripped away, leaving behind only something artificial, something precise, something terrifyingly alive in its own way.

A laugh escaped him.

Not clean.

Not natural.

But layered.

Distorted.

A sound where two voices overlapped unnaturally, one human, one mechanical, blending together in a way that felt wrong to hear, as if the very act of speech had been split between two different existences forced into one body.

"Just as he said..." the voice echoed through the vast floor, carrying that same unsettling duality, each word slightly misaligned with itself, "humans indeed... have a lot of potential."