Extra To Protagonist-Chapter 63: Plan

Morgana didn't even make footsteps. Just her presence.

Hair the color of shattered sapphire spilled in cascading waves over her shoulders.

Her pale skin practically glowed under the moonlight, too white to be natural. Her eyes—clear, crystalline, and devoid of warmth—rested calmly on Vivienne.

But her gaze burned colder than any reprimand.

"You're interfering."

Vivienne didn't answer.

Morgana stepped closer, the heels of her boots silent against the stone, like even sound knew better than to get in her way.

"You know what could happen," she said, voice quieter now. Not soft. Just… sharper. Just like a scalpel.

"I do."

"And you did it anyway."

Vivienne met her eyes. "They're trying to bring him back."

"They're children."

"They're his friends."

Morgana's expression didn't change, but the air did—heavier now. Time didn't slow, but it strained.

Vivienne felt the subtle drag at the edges of her thoughts.

The slight fracture in cause and effect. A pressure that came not from mana, but from the concept of waiting being rewritten around them.

Time affinity.

Subtle. Terrifying.

"You think you're the first person who's tried to outrun inevitability?" Morgana asked. "Do you think he is?"

Vivienne said nothing.

Morgana tilted her head slightly. "I warned you. At the start of the year. You were never good at keeping your distance."

Vivienne's mouth twisted. "Neither were you."

For the first time, something flickered in Morgana's gaze.

Just for a moment.

The mask cracked.

Then it was gone.

"This isn't a story where you get to play the mentor and they get to win because they want to," Morgana said.

"That portal didn't just take him somewhere. It marked him."

Vivienne's fingers curled around the stone railing.

Morgana went on. "Even if the brat survives, he won't be the same."

"We're not here to keep them unchanged," Vivienne said. "We're here to keep them alive."

"And what happens when you can't?"

"…Then at least I'll know they weren't alone."

Silence.

Not stillness. Not peace.

Just silence. Measured and cold.

Morgana didn't blink.

"Do what you must. But understand this. If they become liabilities—if they threaten the city or the balance we're trying to maintain—I will erase every trace of them myself."

Vivienne's shoulders straightened. "Then I'll stop you."

There was no posturing in her voice. No bravado. Just quiet promise.

Morgana studied her for another long moment.

Then smiled.

But it didn't reach her eyes.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that. Because you would die yourself."

With no sound, no flash, no spell-circle—she vanished.

Gone the way she came. Folded into nothing.

Vivienne stood alone.

The wind returned a few seconds later, brushing past her like breath.

She looked out toward the night again.

Toward the place Merlin had vanished.

And she whispered, barely audible, "You better not make me choose."

—

The hallway outside the common room felt narrower than usual.

Nathan stood against the wall, hands buried deep in his pockets, breathing in silence like it was a punishment. His heart hadn't stopped pacing since Vivienne caught him slipping out of the east wing archive access corridor earlier.

She didn't say much.

But her look said everything.

She knew.

Not the whole thing—maybe not the rift, maybe not Merlin—but enough. Enough to make this harder.

'Even if she didn't intervene now, she's not going to let this go.'

Nathan closed his eyes for a second and leaned his head back against the wall. He could still feel the warmth of her gaze, the weight of her disappointment.

She wasn't angry.

She was afraid.

'She definitely thinks we'll get ourselves killed.'

She might be right.

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The common room door creaked open behind him. He didn't move until the steps crossed the floor and stopped just behind his shoulder.

"I saw the look on your face," Elara said quietly. "What happened?"

Nathan didn't turn. "Vivienne."

"…Did she say anything?"

He exhaled slowly. "She didn't have to."

Elara didn't speak, just waited. That was her way—patient, quiet, and somehow more commanding than yelling.

He pushed off the wall and turned to face her. "She knows. Or enough of it."

Her expression didn't change, but the tension in her shoulders tightened.

Nathan stepped past her into the room. The others were already gathered.

Liliana sat cross-legged on the couch, fingers twitching like she wanted to ask a hundred questions but didn't know where to start.

Adrian leaned over the table, flipping through pages with that same crease between his brows.

Seraphina stood near the window, arms folded, gaze distant.

They all looked up when Nathan entered.

"She knows," he said. "Vivienne caught me earlier."

Liliana blinked. "Are we… are we screwed?"

"No." He hesitated. "But she's going to get in the way soon if we don't move fast."

Adrian ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, it's not like she's wrong. This plan is—insane."

"Do you want to stop?" Nathan asked.

"No," Adrian replied instantly. "Just… acknowledging the level of chaos."

Nathan nodded once. He got that. He really did.

He stepped toward the map they'd spread out on the table. "We've traced the stabilizer signature to a sealed chamber under the central leyline tower. Supposedly off-limits. But if we want to find the exact frequency of the original portal's distortion—we need to go there."

"That part of the building is warded," Seraphina said, tone crisp.

"Three layers. If we trip any of them, every instructor on campus will know."

'How does she even know this? Nevermind that…better off not asking.'

"Then we don't trip them," Nathan replied. "We're going in tonight."

The room fell into tense silence.

Liliana looked up. "Tonight?"

"I'd rather not give Vivienne the chance to double the security just in case she's feeling suspicious."

Elara stepped forward. "We'll need a distraction."

Nathan's lips twitched into a faint, tired smile. "That's the easy part."

Adrian leaned in. "Please tell me it involves fire."

"No fire," Seraphina said flatly.

"…Sparks?"

"No."

"Smoke?"

"No."

Nathan sighed and cut them off. "We're not burning the academy down, thanks. But a disturbance during rotation patrol shift? That we can manage."

He looked to Elara. "You and I will handle the approach. Seraphina and Liliana—find a way to spoof the detection sigils. Adrian, you're our eyes. If anyone so much as breathes near that tower, you send the flare."

The group exchanged glances.

Then nodded.

It was happening.

Tonight.

Nathan felt something tighten in his chest. Not panic. Not even dread.

Just weight.

Like gravity had remembered he was supposed to stay small.

Like the world was reminding him that people like him weren't meant to lead anything.

"Get ready," he said. "We break into the leyline tower at midnight."

They moved.

No more questions. No more hesitation.

And as the hour ticked closer, Nathan watched the sky darken from the rooftop again, the lights of the city too bright against the kind of silence that meant something was coming.

He didn't know what they'd find under that tower.

But if there was even the smallest chance of finding Merlin—

He'd face it.

Even if it tore the world apart.

—

The hallway leading to the leyline tower smelled like copper and chalk dust.

Magic residue. Old enchantments layered deep enough to taste on the back of his tongue.

Nathan moved in silence, hood drawn low, footsteps light.

Elara was a shadow just behind him—silent as always, her spear wrapped tight in cloth and mana so she didn't trip any proximity wards.

They'd passed two of the rotating patrols already.

No sign of Vivienne.

No sign of anyone, which somehow made it worse.

Too quiet.

"Third ward is ahead," Elara murmured. Her voice was soft, but it cut through his thoughts like a blade.

Nathan nodded once. "Liliana and Sera should have started already."

If the distraction went off—just enough of a spike to draw the academy's attention away from the leyline pulse—the rest of the operation could move forward.

If it didn't—

They were going to be very screwed, very fast.

He exhaled slowly and crouched behind the bend of the hallway, just in sight of the third ward shimmer.

It wasn't visible to the naked eye—not unless you were looking at it sideways, like it was a ghost walking through light.

Runes layered like a spiderweb across the hall, delicate and humming faintly with heat.

He tapped his comm tab once, twice.

A soft static flickered in his ear.

"…diverted aether channeling… sigil pattern stable… give me fifteen more seconds," Liliana's voice crackled.

He tilted his head. "You sound like you're doing surgery."

"She is," came Seraphina's clipped voice in the background.

"Just make sure you don't rupture the signature," Elara added coolly.

There was a pause.

"…Okay, it's unlocked," Liliana finally whispered. "Move now."

Nathan didn't wait.

He stepped through.

The air snapped against his skin like walking through a waterfall of static. The ward shimmered, then flickered—and then fell silent.

He didn't breathe until Elara passed behind him.

"…One left," he said.

They reached the base of the leyline tower—an obsidian-spined spire buried into the rock beneath the academy, its foundation older than the current structure by at least two eras.

The main entrance had been locked down since the rift.

Nathan tapped the seal—just once, lightly.

No response.

Not until Elara pulled something from her coat.

A narrow rod etched in precise elven script.

"…You stole a clearance key," Nathan said.

"Borrowed," she corrected.

From who, he didn't ask.

The doors parted with a low, pressurized hiss.

Cold air swept over them.

The leyline chamber opened like a throat—vaulted ceilings, arched stone beams, and a crystal node at the center humming with visible power. Runes danced along the ground like embers trapped in a windless world.

It was beautiful.

And wrong.

Nathan took one step forward—and froze.

A shape stood on the far side of the room.

Dark coat. Arms crossed.

Vivienne.

She didn't move.

Didn't call for backup.

Just waited.

"…Took you long enough," she said, voice calm.

Nathan swallowed. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to change my mind and drag all of you back by your collars."

Elara stepped beside him, silent and still.

Vivienne's eyes softened—barely. "You shouldn't be here Nathan, all of you should go back and let the adults handle things."

Nathan didn't look away. "Neither should he be in that situation."

The silence thickened around them again.