The Dominion Tower loomed over Ashthorne like a blade poised to strike.
A monument of black stone and shimmering sigilsteel, it pulsed with ancient wards and spiraling threads visible only to those with the senses to see them.
Caelum saw everything.
The way the tower's foundational threads trembled from the East Wing backlash.
The way seal-lines flickered unevenly along the walls.
The way reality itself thinned slightly around the upper floors—like silk stretched too far.
The academy was bleeding.
The Dominion just didn't want to admit it.
Caelum walked the path alone this time.
He didn't tell Lira where he was going.
He didn't need to.
She felt it through the bond and stayed in the dorm out of instinct, clutching a blanket to her chest, heart thundering with fear for him.
Marenne was pacing her room with three books open.
Jalen was crying silently into his pillow.
All of it reached Caelum through faint thread-tremors.
He muted them.
He had other things to deal with.
As he reached the base of the Dominion Tower, two armored sigil-knights stepped aside wordlessly. They didn't announce him. Didn't bow. Didn't order him.
They only stepped out of his way.
Caelum found that mildly interesting.
The door opened on its own.
Warm sigil-glow brushed his face.
The Dominion Council was waiting.
The Council Chamber
The chamber was circular—massive walls lined with shifting sigil-runes glowing in cold blue. Seven high seats formed a half-circle around the room's center.
Six were filled.
One—the seat directly across from the entrance—remained empty.
A gap.
A statement.
A threat.
Caelum stepped to the center calmly.
No fear.
No anxiety.
Just quiet anticipation.
Inquisitor Maelivara Voss watched him with folded arms, wings draped in metallic chains. Her posture was perfect—controlled, precise—but her eyes were sharper than the last time he'd seen her.
The others felt different too.
More tense.
More wary.
More afraid.
Good.
He liked when people were honest with themselves.
A white-bearded Councilor—Sigil Elder Halven—was the first to speak.
"Caelum Veylor," he said, voice steady but strained,
"You have been summoned under the Dominion Decree of Emergent Threats. You will answer our questions without hostility."
Caelum's expression did not change.
"That depends," he said calmly.
Halven stiffened.
"On what?"
Caelum looked around at all of them.
"On whether your questions are worth answering."
Six Council members inhaled sharply.
The seventh seat—empty—seemed to grow colder.
Voss stood.
"Caelum," she said slowly,
"You are aware that this academy is not simply a school. It is a shield against catastrophes that could annihilate the empire."
"Yes."
"And yesterday," she continued,
"an anomaly awakened. And it reacted to you."
Caelum inclined his head slightly.
"Correct."
The room's tension thickened.
Councilor Rhaiden slammed his fist against the arm of his throne.
"You spoke to it!"
"Yes," Caelum replied.
"You engaged with it!"
"Yes."
"You let it—"
Caelum turned his head sharply.
"I did what your stabilizers failed to do."
Rhaiden flinched, face flushing with anger.
Halven tried to interject again.
"Caelum—"
"I closed the rift," Caelum said, voice cold.
"I stabilized your anomaly.
I prevented a collapse.
And I left without damaging your seals."
His eyes darkened.
"And your first reaction is to scold me like an undisciplined child."
The Council fell silent.
Not from authority.
From correctness.
After a long moment, Voss spoke again.
"Your behavior is… concerningly independent."
"I am not one of your soldiers."
"Nor are you a Dominion agent," Voss replied.
"And yet you handle anomalies as if you were born for them."
Caelum shrugged slightly.
"I was not born for them," he said.
"I simply understand them better than you."
That sentence froze the room.
Councilor Yuren's voice cracked in disbelief.
"You claim—what?—to surpass the Dominion's finest researchers? Our decades of studying the Great Stitching? Our archives that predate the empire?"
"No," Caelum said softly.
He lifted his hand.
Threads rippled around him like faint, shimmering air.
"I claim that none of you are qualified to understand what you study."
A heavy silence.
Then—
Voss's chains rattled softly as she leaned forward.
Her voice was quiet but loaded with weight.
"…What did you see in the seal chamber?"
Caelum blinked once.
"I saw your ancestor."
Six Councilors leaned forward at once.
Councilor Luthen's voice trembled.
"You… saw it?"
"Partially."
Rhaiden swallowed thickly.
"You spoke to it?"
"Yes."
Halven's voice cracked.
"D-Did it speak back?"
Caelum paused.
Deep inside the chamber of his memory he saw:
The corpse shuddering.
Threads splitting open.
Eyes glowing like collapsing stars.
Knowledge flooding into him.
The entity murmuring:
"…you are ready…"
He looked at the Council.
"It did."
The room lost every particle of its composure.
Chairs scraped.
Robes flared.
Wards sparked.
Several Council members' composure shattered entirely.
Their ancestor—
a dead Transcendent—
silent for a thousand years—
had spoken.
And not to them.
To him.
Voss regained control first.
"What did it tell you?"
Caelum looked at her.
"That is not your concern."
Six voices exploded at once.
"NOT our—?!"
"You dare—?!"
"You insolent—!"
"ENOUGH!" Voss roared.
Chains on her wings whipped and slammed against the floor, creating a shockwave that rattled the chamber.
Caelum didn't move.
Voss stared at him, breathing hard, her wings trembling from exertion.
Finally, she spoke, voice low:
"You must understand, Caelum…
this isn't about your ego.
This is about the safety of the academy."
He held her gaze.
"I know."
"Then cooperate," she said.
"Tell us what it said."
Caelum thought for a moment.
Then gave them exactly one sentence:
"It told me not to trust you."
The chamber went dead silent.
Rhaiden's face went pale.
Halven's mouth hung open.
Yuren's knees buckled.
Even Voss froze, expression tightening.
Finally, she whispered:
"…Did it… truly say that?"
Caelum did not blink.
"Yes."
Silence again.
A long, suffocating silence.
Then—
Councilor Luthen exhaled shakily.
"This is… impossible."
Rhaiden grabbed his head.
"A calamity… this is a calamity…"
"We're not prepared—"
"And the academy trembles," Halven murmured.
"We're losing control—"
Caelum listened to their panic with mild interest.
Predictable.
Fear made people honest.
He cleared his throat softly.
All eyes snapped to him.
"There is another matter."
The room held its breath.
Voss straightened.
"What matter?"
Caelum considered how to phrase it.
Finally:
"The entity connected itself to another student through me."
Six Councilors stiffened.
Voss whispered:
"…No…"
Halven rose from his seat.
"Who?!"
"Lira Ainsworth," Caelum replied.
The Council erupted into horrified shouts.
"A civilian student?!"
"A weak sigil bearer?!"
"Untrained!"
"She could become corrupted—"
"She might collapse—"
"This could trigger a new anomaly!"
Voss raised her wings to silence the room.
"This is not ideal," she said slowly,
"but we may still contain the damage."
Caelum tilted his head.
"Contain her?"
Voss nodded.
"We need to isolate her thread. For her safety—and yours."
"No."
Voss froze.
"…No?"
Caelum looked around the chamber, gaze cold.
"You will not touch her."
Rhaiden slammed his fist against the table.
"You dare defy—"
"Yes."
Halven sputtered.
"She is at RISK!"
"Of your ignorance," Caelum replied.
Voss stepped forward, chains scraping ominously.
"Caelum Veylor," she said slowly,
"you do not understand the consequences of a Threadbond—"
"I understand it better than you."
Voss stopped.
"…Explain."
Caelum allowed Thread-Sense to bloom.
The chamber dimmed.
Threads pulsed softly around him.
"When I left the entity yesterday," he said,
"I saw three paths."
The Council stilled.
"Three futures.
Three outcomes.
Three unfoldings."
Voss swallowed.
"What… did you see?"
Caelum's voice was quiet.
"On one path, Lira dies."
The Council stiffened.
"On the second," Caelum continued,
"she is consumed by the bond."
"And the third?" Voss whispered.
Caelum's eyes burned faintly.
"She survives."
"And I grow stronger."
The chamber shook as threads flared around him.
Voss whispered:
"…you intend to choose the third path."
"Yes."
Yuren whispered something that sounded like prayer.
Halven rubbed his forehead.
Rhaiden looked ready to vomit.
Voss steadied herself.
"Caelum," she said softly,
"you do understand what this means?"
Caelum nodded once.
"Yes."
And then he added:
"It means she is under my protection."
The Council shook.
Voss exhaled slowly.
Her voice was cold, resigned, and terrified all at once.
"…Then we will place faith in your judgment."
Caelum turned toward the door.
"Wise."
He walked out.
The Dominion Tower doors slammed shut behind him.
The moment he vanished, Rhaiden collapsed into his seat.
"We're doomed."
Halven whispered:
"No…
we're witnessing the birth of something…
dangerous."
Voss stared at the door, expression unreadable.
"Not dangerous," she murmured.
"…inevitable."
Outside — The Sky Trembles
Caelum exited the tower calmly.
The sky above Ashthorne shimmered.
A faint ripple.
A stitch.
A crack.
A sign.
The first of three paths had already begun.
Caelum exhaled.
Then—
feeling the bond tug softly—
he turned toward Dorm Nine.
Lira was waiting.
And the next steps depended on how he handled her fate.