The dining hall that evening had the buzz of the night before a big event — louder than usual, with students from four different academies filling the space with varying comfort, and conversations flowing in multiple directions between tables.

Patricia sat with her study group and watched the room.

"It’s strange," she said.

"What is," Emma asked. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"All of this." She gestured at the room. "A week ago we were in crisis mode — Derek, assassins, safety petitions, institutional chaos. And now there are students from three other academies eating dinner in our dining hall and talking about competition brackets, and it feels almost normal."

"Institutions are good at returning to surface normality," David said. "The underlying issues haven’t been resolved, but the immediate anxiety has been partially addressed through the assembly and Volmer’s response, which created enough stability for the competition to proceed as planned."

"That sounds like you’re describing a problem," Marcus said.

"I’m describing a dynamic. Whether it’s a problem depends on what the underlying issues actually are and whether the surface normality is sustainable." David considered his food. "If the threats that caused the crisis are genuinely resolved, the normality is real. If they’re not, the normality is temporary."

"Very reassuring, David," Sarah said. "Thank you for that contribution."

"I wasn’t trying to reassure, I was trying to accurately characterize—"

"We know," Patricia said. "That’s why it’s funny."

David glanced between them, understanding on a logical level that they were teasing him gently.

He chose to accept it rather than argue, a sign of social growth that Patricia had been quietly observing over the past month.

At a nearby table, a group of Brightwater students was conversing in the regional dialect of the coastal provinces.

Although they spoke the same language, their speech was faster, with different emphasis patterns and a distinct rhythm.

One of them laughed at something, and the laugh was loud, genuine, and completely spontaneous, making Patricia find herself smiling without fully understanding why.

"Are we going to be okay?" Timothy asked.

Nobody answered immediately.

Patricia gazed at him. He was asking earnestly, as he sometimes did — not seeking reassurance, but trying to gauge if those around him understood the situation.

"I think so," she said. "I think the people whose job it is to handle the actual dangerous parts are handling them." She paused. "And I think we’re going to watch some genuinely impressive cultivation combat tomorrow, and it’s going to be good, and the academy is going to be fine."

"Optimistic," Marcus said.

"Based on evidence. David taught me that."

David looked up. "I would be cautious about using my analytical framework to support conclusions I haven’t reached."

"You’ve consistently noted that the known factors remain relevant even with high unknown variable counts," she said. "I’m applying that."

David considered it. "That’s a reasonable application."

"Thank you."

"You’re welcome."

Sarah was smiling into her food as Timothy relaxed slightly, understanding that the question had been answered appropriately. The response was not definitive but honest, reflecting genuine assessment from attentive individuals.

Outside the tall windows, the academy grounds glowed warmly with evening torches.

Somewhere in the guest accommodations, students from other academies were settling into unfamiliar rooms and contemplating tomorrow.

In the administrative building, Morris was likely still working, while in the medical wing, Henrik probably continued reviewing files.

In a room within the dormitory building, Kai was likely doing whatever he typically did in the evenings—something no one had ever fully figured out.

William , who was not in the dining hall because he was almost never there in the evening, was probably somewhere finalising the last version of his remaining preparations.

He was likely reviewing it once more until it became fully ingrained in him and could no longer be taken away.

Patricia wasn’t aware of most of this explicitly. She understood it the way you know the general shape of the world you’ve been observing for a while.

She finished her dinner, listened to her friends, and took note of the room filled with students from four academies, all believing that tomorrow would mainly be about competition.

For the most part, it was.

---

Friday arrived quietly. It was a morning that didn’t announce itself—initially gray at dawn, gradually warming as clouds parted over the eastern trees by seven, revealing the clear sky that seemed to always appear on competition days.

It was as if the weather knew many people had planned around it and chose to cooperate.

William was awake before five.

He remained still for a few minutes in the quiet darkness of early morning, listening to Kai’s steady, deep breathing from the other bed — a sign of someone who had chosen rest as a strategic necessity and had performed it effectively.

William had also slept well, which took him by surprise. He had anticipated the usual fractured, shallow sleep that often precedes important events.

Instead, he had slept completely and woken feeling refreshed, which either meant he was more prepared than he’d thought or that his mind had simply processed all it could and had nothing more to analyse.

He got up quietly and dressed in the dark.

His competition kit was already packed, and the techniques journal of his mother had been in the inner pocket of his jacket for days.

He wore two rings on his hand. His ancestral sword was sheathed at his hip in the standard competition setup — clearly visible, registered, with an essence signature aligned to his official profile.

He checked the message crystal before leaving the room.

It displayed only one pulse instead of two, indicating it was not urgent. A new message had been stored overnight.

He activated it at low volume, standing near the window and his mother’s voice began playing.

’William. The holding company is registered through an agent in the capital’s legal district, a firm that handles incorporations for clients wanting to stay anonymous in public records. We found three other entities that have used the same agent in the last two years.’

’Two are inactive shell companies with no clear purpose. The third is a registered advisory firm, whose listed director is a name you’ll recognize.’

A pause.

’Aldric Cross. Your father.’

William stood at the window, gazing at the academy grounds in the pre-dawn darkness, and felt a sensation settle within him, neither surprise nor any other specific emotion, but something for which he had a clear word.

’I want you to understand what this means and what it doesn’t mean,’ his mother continued. ’The advisory firm is one layer removed from the holding company that registered Hale’s consulting arrangement.’

’That’s a connection, not a confession. Your father is not the only person who could have used that structure — a registered director can be nominal, and the actual operating party can be someone entirely different.’

’But the structure exists. He built it or allowed it to be built in his name. That’s not nothing.’

’I’m presenting this to regional legal authority today. By the time competition concludes, there will be an official inquiry. Whatever happens during the event, William, the legal mechanism is in motion. You don’t need to resolve this yourself.’

A longer pause than usual.

’Compete. Do what you went there to do. I’ll handle the rest.’

’I love you.’

The crystal went dark.

"Strange words coming out of her mouth huh"

William mumbled with a small smile as he stood at the window for another minute.

Then he went to find Kai.

---

Vote!!!