The students looked toward Evelyn with a storm of emotions written across their faces, but the dominant one, undeniably, was joy.

  Relief spread through the group like a wave. Smiles broke out. Some laughed softly, others let out shaky breaths they hadn’t realized they were holding. Tharion had returned. A Paragon had survived his trial.

  For many of them, that alone was enough to make the day feel brighter.

  Vale watched in silence.

  Only now did he realize that, somewhere between the chaos, the fear, and his own breakthrough, he had almost forgotten about Tharion’s trial entirely. The realization made him feel faintly guilty. Now that the name had been spoken aloud again, however, a quiet warmth settled in his chest. He was glad, genuinely glad, that the man had survived.

  He didn’t show it the way Nym and Korin did.

  Nym practically lit up, her earlier tension evaporating as she rushed toward Evelyn with barely contained excitement. Korin followed more calmly, but even he wore a clear smile, rare as it was. Questions spilled from them almost immediately, about Tharion, about the trial, about what came next.

  Vale remained where he was, hands at his sides, a small, restrained smile on his face.

  He hadn’t known Tharion for long, barely two months, and even then, they had only spent half a day together at most. Tharion had departed for his trial nearly a month ago, and from Evelyn’s sudden announcement, it was clear that he had only just returned. That timing made sense.

  Evelyn was a high-ranking member of the Rosemary family’s elite branch. If anyone would be the first to know, it would be her.

  Vale himself was part of the Rosemary family as well. So were Nym and Korin. It explained why Evelyn chose this moment, and this group, to share the news. She wouldn’t have announced it to outsiders, to people like Barbatos, who had no real ties to the family.

  At least, that was how Vale understood it.

  As Nym and Korin continued questioning Evelyn, Vale quietly stepped away.

  His attention had already shifted elsewhere.

  He had crossed a threshold, one he hadn’t even known was possible until moments ago. He had used atum to amplify his own body. Not an object. Not an external focus. Himself.

  That alone made his pulse quicken.

  From what he remembered, what little he could recall, when his Enigma had overtaken his body and forced him into Nirvana, it had felt like something incomplete. A half-step. A passage rather than a destination. A state adjacent to true Nirvana, but not quite there.

  What he had just done felt… closer.

  Vale glanced down at his boots, brushing dust from his armor as he walked toward the exit. He slipped out while Evelyn remained occupied with Nym and Korin, neither of them noticing his departure.

  His companions did.

  Ember chirped softly and followed him through the jagged hole in the steel wall, the one Vale himself had created when he sent Evelyn flying earlier. The small wyvern fit through easily, wings tucked close. Vale, opting for discretion, used the door instead.

  The ravens followed after him in a flurry of black feathers, darting through the doorway in a hurry.

  Vale lengthened his stride, intent on leaving quietly.

  “Stop right there.”

  The voice cut through the air with authority.

  Vale froze.

  “I’m not done with you yet.”

  Slowly, very slowly, Vale turned around.

  Evelyn was approaching him.

  Despite her short stature, despite the casual way she walked, a knot formed instantly in Vale’s stomach. Every time Evelyn addressed him directly like this, his nerves flared. She didn’t need to raise her voice. She didn’t need to threaten.

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  She could end him in an instant if she wanted to.

  Vale straightened reflexively, shoulders back, posture rigid. He briefly glanced past her, Korin met his eyes and gave him an easy, reassuring smile. It didn’t help much.

  Evelyn stopped in front of him.

  “Is something wrong?” Vale asked, his voice uneven despite his effort to steady it.

  Evelyn narrowed her eyes slightly, then turned her gaze past him, to the massive hole torn into the steel wall. She paused, letting the silence stretch just long enough for the implication to settle.

  Vale followed her gaze.

  “…I think you know what I’m going to say,” Evelyn said flatly, one hand resting on her hip.

  Vale exhaled deeply.

  “I apologize,” he said, lowering his head. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

  His voice was quiet, sincere.

  Evelyn blinked.

  “That wasn’t,” she stopped herself, then sighed and thought for a moment. “Well. Not exactly.”

  Vale looked up, surprised.

  “I wanted to know,” she continued, her tone steady but sharp with interest, “what you did to amplify your power like that.”

  Understanding dawned on him.

  Right. That made far more sense.

  Vale scratched the back of his head awkwardly, the tension easing just a little. He opened his mouth to explain,

  but Evelyn spoke again, turning toward Nym and Korin.

  “Let’s get those two back to the academy first.”

  She looked back at Vale. He nodded silently.

  They made their way toward the teleportation chambers together. Along the way, conversation flowed easily, mostly about Tharion’s return. Vale was grateful for that. The attention that might have fallen on his sudden power spike was diverted elsewhere.

  He didn’t mind answering questions.

  Explaining himself, though, that would be harder.

  Soon, they reached the chambers. Nym and Korin stepped onto the platform and turned back one last time.

  “Bye-bye!” Nym called, waving enthusiastically.

  Korin simply smiled and lifted a hand in farewell.

  Then they vanished in a flash of light.

  The chamber grew quiet.

  Evelyn turned back to Vale.

  “Now,” she said casually, though her eyes were anything but, “shall we talk about what just happened?”

  Vale swallowed, nodding slowly.

  He was ready to explain.

  Whether he truly understood it himself… was another matter entirely.

  Vale opened his mouth to speak,

  but Evelyn raised a single finger to her lips.

  “Shh.”

  The gesture was gentle, but it carried absolute command. Vale stopped instantly.

  At her feet, her shadow began to move.

  It spread unnaturally fast, thickening and swelling as if it had gained mass, swallowing the floor beneath them. Within a heartbeat it rose upward, folding in on itself, walls forming where there should have been none. Darkness stacked upon darkness until a perfect cube enclosed them both.

  The last trace of light vanished.

  The world became silent.

  Then Evelyn spoke again, her voice calm, controlled, and echoing faintly through the void.

  “Now you can talk.”

  Vale swallowed. He couldn’t see her, couldn’t even tell where she stood. The darkness was absolute, smothering all sense of space. Still, he turned instinctively toward the sound of her voice.

  “Are you aware,” he asked carefully, “that I have access to Nirvana?”

  There was no surprise in her response.

  “Of course,” Evelyn replied without hesitation. “It’s all anyone in the upper tiers of both the G.V.O. and the Rosemary Organization is talking about right now.”

  She paused, then added, almost thoughtfully, “It’s impressive. You’re one of only three in recorded history to ever reach it.”

  Vale exhaled, tension bleeding from his shoulders.

  “…Thanks.”

  He gathered his thoughts before continuing.

  “What I just did wasn’t full Nirvana,” he said slowly. “It was more like… bridging toward it. A partial state. And it worked. In a way.”

  Silence.

  Then Evelyn’s voice cut through again, sharper this time.

  “Elaborate.”

  Vale felt the faint brush of feathers as his ravens settled onto his shoulders, drawn into the darkness alongside him. Their presence steadied him.

  “I tried to gather atum directly into my body,” he explained, choosing his words with care. “Instead of using it externally, like I usually do with objects, I used it to enhance myself. Strength, speed, everything.”

  Another pause.

  “…I see,” Evelyn said at last. “That would explain the sudden spike in output.”

  She tilted her head, Vale could hear it in her voice.

  “Was it difficult?”

  Vale didn’t answer right away. His mind flashed back to the crushing pressure, the suffocating sensation, the feeling of standing in the jaws of something vast and merciless.

  He nodded before realizing she couldn’t see it.

  “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Very.”

  Evelyn sighed.

  Then, just as suddenly as it had formed, the darkness dissolved.

  Light rushed back in, the cube unraveling into nothing as if it had never existed.

  They stood once more in the corridor, the dojo wall still shattered nearby.

  “We’re going to have to work on that,” Evelyn said, turning away slightly. “If this method can reliably enhance your physical capabilities, it’s invaluable, especially for someone in the combat class.”

  Vale raised an eyebrow, relief washing over him.

  That… went better than expected.

  He glanced down. Ember stood beside Evelyn, unusually still. The moment the wyvern noticed Vale, he froze, then let out a small, embarrassed chirr, as if only now realizing Evelyn hadn’t been Vale inside the darkness.

  Vale couldn’t help but chuckle.

  Evelyn gave Ember a brief look before walking past him, leaving the wyvern to hurry back to Vale’s side.

  Vale exhaled deeply, feeling a weight lift from his chest. The conversation had gone smoothly. Too smoothly, perhaps, but he wouldn’t question it.

  He turned to leave,

  and stopped dead.

  Standing directly in front of him was a tall woman with deep brown hair, her eyes shifting subtly in color like liquid light.

  Vale’s breath caught in his throat.

  He recognized her instantly.