[Celestial Academy — North Corridor — 11:47 PM]

The empty corridor between them.

Valeria didn’t move toward Alex.

Alex didn’t move toward Valeria.

The twenty meters between them enough that any patrolling guard who appeared would see two people who had met by chance in the hallway.

"Here?" Alex said quietly.

Valeria nodded toward a side door.

---

The archive room of the north wing. Windowless. With a lock that Valeria opened with her own key — which said how long she had had access to this specific space.

Inside: boxes of documents, shelves, the smell of old paper and the preservation enchantment that kept it from deteriorating.

Valeria activated a small lamp.

She evaluated Alex in the light.

"The documents are good," she said finally. "The suppressed level is consistent. But you walk like someone who knows this building."

"I know it."

"I know." Valeria. "That’s why I said I knew you would come back. I just didn’t know when."

Alex looked at her.

"How long have you been waiting?"

"Since Agustín arrived." A pause. "Three days ago."

---

"Father Agustín isn’t here for routine oversight," said Valeria.

"What is he here for?"

"I don’t know for sure." Valeria measured her words with the precision of someone who had been in a position where words had real consequences for years. "But he brought a personal escort. Four high‑level Inquisitors. Not Cael — others. The ones from the faction closest to him."

"How many factions does the Temple have?"

"The ones any institution with enough power to attract ambition always has." Valeria. "The relevant one for you is Agustín’s — the most orthodox. He believes that Fragment bearers are a threat without exception. No nuances. No case‑by‑case evaluation."

"And Cael’s?"

"More pragmatic. Cael evaluates. Agustín classifies." A pause. "The two factions have been in tension for years that never reaches a breaking point because both need the Temple to function."

"Since when has the tension worsened?"

Valeria looked at him.

"Since the Catacombs. Cael’s report — recommending surveillance instead of capture — was read by Agustín’s faction as betrayal." A pause. "Not insubordination. Betrayal."

"Is Cael in danger?"

"Cael has been navigating this politics for twenty years." Valeria. "Don’t worry about him."

The tone she used to say it was specific — not exactly reassuring.

---

"The old building," said Alex.

Valeria nodded.

"Magnus closed it two years ago. He told the staff and students it was structural restoration." A pause. "The restoration never started."

"What does Magnus know exactly?"

"That Agustín asked him to close it. That there’s anomalous energy in the building that the Temple wants to study before allowing access." Valeria. "Magnus agreed because Magnus always agrees when the Temple asks for something that doesn’t cost him too much institutionally."

"And does Agustín know what the energy is?"

"He knows it’s anomalous. He knows it doesn’t correspond to any Academy enchantment." A long pause.

"What he doesn’t know is exactly what it is."

"Still?"

"Still." Valeria looked directly at him. "And you do know?"

Alex evaluated her for a second.

"Yes."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"When we have a full agreement."

Valeria considered that.

"Access to the old building in exchange for information on what you find there." She said it as a summary of what they both already knew the negotiation was.

"For the reformist faction."

"Why does the reformist faction need that information?"

"Because we’ve been arguing for years that the Temple doesn’t fully understand the Fragments." Valeria. "If what’s in that building is what I suspect, it’s evidence that Agustín’s doctrine is based on incorrect premises." A pause.

"Evidence that the Temple can’t ignore if it’s well documented."

"When can you provide access?"

"It depends on Agustín. When he and his escort are busy with Magnus — there’s a facilities review meeting scheduled for the twelfth day of your stay." Valeria. "Magnus takes hours in those meetings because Magnus talks a lot when he’s nervous. And with Agustín in his Academy, Magnus is nervous."

"Day twelve."

"Day twelve. With the fifteen‑minute window in the north corridor that Kira already identified this afternoon." Valeria looked at him.

"Your tracker is good. Tell her to be more discreet about how she uses Sense, or someone else will notice her before I do."

Alex processed that.

---

Valeria picked up the lamp to leave.

She stopped.

A pause different from the previous ones — less political, more personal.

"Setting aside all the Temple business." She looked at him. "I’m glad to see you again. It seems you’ve grown a lot."

Alex smiled.

"And you? You haven’t fallen behind. You went from Paladin to Inquisitor."

"Time passes for everyone."

"Thank you," said Alex. "For Fallen Citadel. You didn’t have to use the Lich as a distraction so your people wouldn’t follow us."

Valeria looked at him for a moment.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Of course you don’t."

A silence.

"Did you get in trouble for that?" asked Alex.

"Some." Valeria. "Nothing I couldn’t handle." A longer pause. "The Lich was a very conveniently timed accident."

"Yes."

"Those happen."

"Sometimes."

Valeria turned off the lamp.

"Day twelve, Carter. Don’t do anything visible before then."

She left.

---

[Celestial Academy — Days 2 to 8]

The classes were different from what Alex remembered from his three years at the Academy.

Not because they were better or worse.

But because this time Alex was truly in them — without the weight of being the lowest‑level student, without the invisible target of "the one who summoned the F‑rank skeleton," without the certainty that at some point someone would point to the empty circle.

Just classes. With an identity that wasn’t his but that also didn’t require him to pretend not to know things.

The team found their rhythm in the first three days.

Maya in the historical library every afternoon — not looking for specific information yet, building a presence as a student who regularly used the library so that when she looked for something specific it would be invisible.

Raven in the combat training spaces with the same restraint as in Veltharr — three exchanges below her real level, one at the correct level by "accident."

Max talking to them over the communicator for hours.

Learning what Viktor taught him as if access to organized information were something he still hadn’t fully processed existed.

Alex moving between classes and Viktor’s internal map and Kira’s observations.

---

[Day 4 — Advanced Healing Class]

The class had sixteen students.

The instructor — level 61, specializing in deep magical damage healing — presented the day’s technique.

Demonstration. Individual practice. Review.

Emily practiced.

And the instructor stopped.

He looked at her.

He looked again.

"Can you repeat that?"

Emily repeated.

The instructor evaluated the technique with the specific attention of someone who knew his field well enough to detect when he saw something that didn’t match what he should be seeing.

"Where did you study?"

Emily named the fictitious institution from her cover.

The instructor nodded slowly.

"Excellent training." He said it sincerely. "This technique normally takes two semesters to develop with this precision."

"I practiced a lot," said Emily.

"It shows."

He moved on to the next student.

Emily returned to her place.

---

After class.

Raven waiting in the hallway.

"How was it?"

"Terrible," said Emily.

Raven looked at her.

"Did the instructor do something to you?"

"No. The instructor was kind." Emily. "That’s why it was terrible."

"Explain."

"He told me I have a two‑semester technique." Emily. "And I told him I practiced a lot. And he believed that." A pause. "I feel terrible."

"Because you lied?"

"Because I’m better than him and I can’t tell him."

Raven looked at her for a second.

"Do you want to show off to your healing instructor?"

"I don’t want to show off—"

"It sounds like you want to show off."

"It’s just—" Emily searched for words. "It’s frustrating to know something and have to pretend you don’t know it that well."

"Welcome to undercover operations."

"I don’t like it."

"No one said you had to like it." Raven. "Just that you had to do it."

Emily walked in silence for a moment.

"Does it get easier?"

"No." Raven. "You get used to it. It’s not the same."

Emily considered the difference.

"Raven."

"What."

"Who would have said I liked showing off."

Raven smiled.

Briefly. But she smiled.

"I would have. For a long time."

"That’s a lie."

"Is it?"

Emily thought about the instructor. About what she had felt when he said "excellent training" and she couldn’t say where it really came from.

"I think I shouldn’t hang out with you anymore," said Emily. "You’re a bad influence."

"Probably," admitted Raven.

They kept walking.

---

[Day 6 — Magical Tracking Class]

The magical tracking class had twelve students and an instructor who had been teaching exactly that at the Academy for thirty years.

Not physical tracking — magical signature tracking.

The ability to read the trace that magic leaves in the environment, distinguish signatures, date when a specific activation occurred.

The day’s exercise: identify how many magical activations had occurred in the classroom in the last twenty‑four hours and of what type.

The students scanning.

Kira scanning.

[Predator’s Sense — minimum active]

It wasn’t trained for classroom magical activations — that wasn’t what it was for.

But [Predator’s Sense] was tracking in its most fundamental sense, and magical trace wasn’t so different from physical trace when you knew what to look for.

She found what the exercise asked for in forty seconds.

Then she found something else.

On the north wall of the classroom — specifically at the joint between the wall and the ceiling, at a point where the plaster was slightly different from the rest. A magical signature that didn’t match the activations from the exercise.

Older.

The kind of signature left by a passive monitoring enchantment that hadn’t been renewed for months.

Someone had placed a listening device in this classroom.

Not from the Temple — the signature was different from the Temple’s enchantments that Kira had learned to read during the journey. From someone else.

She raised her hand.

The instructor looked at her.

"Did you find something?"

"Twelve activations in the last twenty‑four hours." Kira. "Eight from student practice, three from classroom maintenance enchantments, one from a passive monitoring device at the north ceiling joint. The last one has been without renewal for approximately four months — the signature is degraded but still active."

Silence in the classroom.

The instructor looked at the point Kira had indicated.

He stood up.

He went to the point.

He examined it.

He returned to his desk.

He looked at Kira with an expression that wasn’t exactly the one an instructor used to evaluate the correct answer from a student.

"How did you see that?"

"Instinct."

"That’s not instinct." The instructor. "That’s advanced tracking skill applied to magical signature — a combination that requires years of specific training in both disciplines." He looked directly at her.

"Exchange student from the north, first semester."

"Yes."

"Who are you really?"

The question in the classroom.

Twelve students looking at Kira.

Kira looking at the instructor with her usual expression — the one that didn’t change in any situation because expressions that change give away information.

"A student with good instinct," she said finally.

The instructor looked at her for five seconds. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

"I want to talk to you after class."