Dorm Nine felt different tonight.
Quieter.
Heavier.
As if every brick had learned to breathe in fear the moment Caelum reentered the academy grounds.
He saw it immediately—
the way the threads in the air trembled near the building,
how the lights flickered,
how reality thinned along the hallway walls.
The entity's influence.
Not strong.
But present.
Caelum walked toward Lira's room with unhurried steps.
The Threadbond pulsed faintly beneath his ribs—warm, fragile, but steadying now that he had approached her proximity. Much like how a broken compass straightens when brought near the proper magnet.
He reached the door.
He didn't knock.
He opened it.
Inside Lira's Room
Lira sat curled up on her bed, blanket wrapped tightly around her knees.
Her eyes were red.
Her hair disheveled.
Sweat clung to her temples.
She looked like she had survived a battlefield.
Marenne sat at the foot of the bed with a notebook open, quill tapping anxiously against the page. She froze instantly when Caelum stepped inside.
Jalen stood near the wall, half-hidden behind a dresser as if the furniture could shield him from the pressure Caelum carried.
Lira lifted her head when she sensed him.
Her breath stuttered.
"…Caelum."
He closed the door behind him.
The bond pulsed.
Twice.
Steady.
Warm.
Seeking.
Caelum walked toward the bed.
Lira shrank back instinctively—not out of fear of him, but of everything that had touched her, seen her, invaded her through him.
He stopped in front of her.
She looked tiny beside him.
Small hands clutched into fists.
Trembling shoulders.
Wide, terrified eyes.
Marenne cleared her throat weakly.
"Her pulse keeps spiking. She hasn't stopped trembling in two hours. I—I don't know what to do."
Caelum didn't look at Marenne.
His eyes stayed on Lira.
She bit her lip hard, trying to regain control.
"I-I'm sorry," she whispered.
"I don't— I don't know what's happening to me. I'm scared, Caelum. I didn't mean to— I didn't want— I didn't—"
Her breath hitched.
Caelum raised his hand.
She froze.
He didn't touch her.
He hovered his fingers an inch above the shimmering area over her chest where the thread-mark pulsed under her uniform.
The air buzzed.
A strand of white thread rose from her skin, connecting faintly to his hand.
She inhaled sharply.
"C-Caelum…?"
His voice was quiet.
"It won't hurt."
She swallowed.
"It already hurts."
He lowered his hand onto the mark.
Her breath stopped.
The room went silent.
Jalen covered his mouth.
Marenne gripped her notebook until her knuckles whitened.
Threads unfurled from Caelum's palm—white, smooth, controlled—and sank gently into Lira's skin. Not invasive. Not violent.
A stabilization.
Her trembling eased.
Her heartbeat steadied.
Her panic began to fade—
just enough for her to breathe.
Caelum withdrew his hand.
Lira sagged in relief, tears collecting in her eyes.
"Thank you…"
Caelum analyzed her face.
The tension in her jaw.
The tear tracks.
The exhaustion.
The unnecessary suffering.
"We need to talk," he said softly.
Lira tensed again.
Marenne stood.
"No. I have questions. What caused this? Why her? What is this bond? How deep is it? Can it be removed—"
"No," Caelum said simply.
Marenne's mouth snapped shut.
He turned to her slowly.
"This is not a normal bond."
"I could see that," Marenne muttered.
"It looks like a Thread-Sigil imprint but… alive."
"It is alive," Caelum said.
Jalen squeaked and hid deeper behind the dresser.
Caelum continued.
"This bond formed through the entity's attempt to understand me. Lira was physically close when it reached for me. She was afraid. Her soul-thread was vulnerable enough for the touch."
Lira's eyes widened, trembling.
"S-so it's my fault?"
"No," Caelum said.
"It was mine."
Lira froze in shock.
Marenne blinked.
Jalen came out of hiding for the first time in minutes.
"…Your fault?"
Caelum nodded.
"I returned to the seal chamber today."
Marenne nearly dropped her notebook.
"AGAIN? Caelum—are you insane?! Or just—just bored?"
Caelum ignored her.
"I spoke with the entity. It confirmed that the bond was unintentional—but inevitable."
Lira's breathing faltered.
"I–I don't want to be bound to something scary."
"You are not bound to it," Caelum said quietly.
His eyes locked onto hers.
"You are bound to me."
Lira made a small sound.
A mix of fear.
Relief.
Confusion.
Something else she didn't understand yet.
Caelum felt all of it through the bond.
"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered.
"I-I don't want to be in your way…"
"You aren't."
Her breath stopped again.
"Then… what am I?"
Caelum studied her for a moment.
Lira Ainsworth—
the fragile girl who had survived a tear
the girl who had screamed his name through a nightmare
the girl whose soul-thread now overlapped with his
He spoke carefully.
"You are connected to me," he said.
"And thus, under my protection."
Lira blinked hard, tears dripping.
"But… why? I'm just—"
"You survived something no one else could survive."
Caelum took a step closer.
"You were marked because you were near me. That alone makes you a point of interest for forces you cannot see."
Marenne's eyes widened as realization struck.
"She's… a liability."
Caelum nodded.
"And therefore," he said,
"I cannot allow that liability to remain unprotected."
Lira swallowed hard.
"What… what does that mean?"
Caelum crouched slightly, bringing himself to her eye level.
"It means your safety is now tied to my decisions."
Her breath shivered.
"Is… is that good?"
"It depends on you."
Her heartbeat kicked.
"I—I don't understand…"
Caelum narrowed his eyes slightly.
"You trust me."
Her cheeks flushed instantly.
"I— I don't know if trust is the right— I just— you saved me—"
"You trust me," Caelum repeated.
She looked away, overwhelmed.
He continued.
"That trust affects the bond. It stabilizes it."
Marenne whispered:
"…she's the anchor."
"Yes."
"And you," Marenne added slowly, "are the thread."
Caelum nodded once.
"Correct."
Jalen whimpered.
"That sounds… like a very powerful, very dangerous metaphor."
Caelum ignored him.
He stepped closer to Lira again.
"I need to know something," he said quietly.
Lira looked up.
Her eyes—
wide
blue
terrified
trusting
"W-what is it?"
Caelum's presence intensified subtly, the air tightening.
"If the entity reaches into your dreams again, will you call for me?"
Lira blinked.
"I—I didn't know if I should— I didn't know if I could—"
"You can," Caelum said.
"And you will."
Her breath stuttered.
"Why?"
"Because I will answer."
Lira's heart thumped loudly—so loudly Caelum heard it through the bond.
"C-Caelum…"
"I am not asking," he said.
"This is necessary."
Marenne's gaze darted between them.
"You're reinforcing the bond," she whispered.
"You're making it intentional now."
"Correct."
Lira's hands trembled in her lap.
"Is that… safe?"
Caelum tilted his head.
"For you—yes."
"And for you?"
He paused.
The entity's whisper echoed faintly in his ear:
"…threads bring strength…
but also weakness…"
He pushed it aside.
"For me," Caelum said quietly,
"it is irrelevant."
Lira's breath softened.
Something in her expression melted—
fear shifting into something gentler,
warmer,
more open.
Caelum felt the bond pulse again.
Stronger.
More stable.
Good.
He stood.
"The bond will evolve," he said.
"The first stage is stabilization. The second is synchronization."
Marenne scribbled notes furiously.
"What does synchronization do?" she asked.
Caelum looked at Lira.
"It will let me sense her emotions more accurately."
Lira flushed again.
"And the third?" Marenne asked.
Caelum didn't answer.
Because the third stage was not something Lira needed to know yet.
Not something she could handle.
Not yet.
Instead, he said:
"I will monitor her bond nightly."
Jalen dropped his jaw.
"M-monitor? Like—like standing guard? Outside her door?!"
"No."
"Oh."
"I will use Thread-Sense."
Jalen swallowed.
"That sounds worse."
Caelum continued.
"You will all sleep. I will stabilize her when needed."
Lira whispered:
"…thank you."
A pause.
The bond pulsed warmly again.
Caelum felt it.
He didn't like warmth.
But he didn't reject it either.
He turned toward the door.
"You should rest."
Lira nodded slowly.
Caelum stepped outside.
Marenne stared at Lira.
"That wasn't a normal conversation."
Lira clutched her chest.
"…my heart won't stop racing."
Jalen whispered:
"I think you just survived a romantic moment with a conceptual monster."
Lira blushed crimson.
"I-it wasn't romantic!"
Marenne nodded slowly.
"It kind of was."
Lira buried her face in her pillow.
Outside the Dorm — Caelum Waits
Caelum leaned against the wall.
Thread-Sense expanded around him—
across the dorm,
through walls,
down corridors,
into Lira's room.
He stayed.
Silent.
Still.
Watching her thread settle.
After ten minutes—
She slept.
Peacefully.
For the first time since the nightmare.
Good.
Caelum closed his eyes.
He whispered softly:
"…synchronization begins."
The bond pulsed.
And something in the academy's deepest seals responded.