Chapter 10: The Failed Siphon
The final remedial assignment of the week was designed to terrify them.
Tutor Maeve led the six Key Bearers into a highly secured training vault. In the center of the room, levitating silently above a pressure plate, was a crystalline sphere the size of a bowling ball: the Volatile Orb. It pulsed a dangerous, erratic magenta, far more chaotic than the residual energy they'd practiced on.
"This orb contains highly unstable, concentrated Motes," Maeve explained, adjusting her woolen robes. "If this orb destabilizes, it will not explode, but it will cause a catastrophic, localized loss of atmospheric cohesion. In other words, a small portion of this room will cease to exist."
She gestured to a large, complex control panel near the door. "Your assignment is to approach the orb and perform a sustained, controlled Mote Siphon, drawing enough energy to calm the magenta and turn the orb a steady, deep blue. If you fail, you must immediately apply Dampening to prevent a critical surge."
The class went first. They all failed the siphon, achieving meager scores, but managed to apply enough dampening to stabilize the orb without incident. Lance watched their safe failures, his frustration building. He knew he couldn't siphon it, and Kian's siphon would destabilize it further.
"Lance and Opal," Maeve finally announced. "You may approach the orb together. You will attempt a synchronized siphon."
Opal looked at Lance, her eyes wide. "Synchronized? We're going to explode the room, aren't we?"
Lance shook his head, looking at the Volatile Orb. It was pulsing too quickly. "No. We're going to try to siphon, fail, and then immediately contain the mess."
Their plan with Kian was already in motion: they needed a massive energy spike to open a temporary routing channel in the Annex's power grid later that night. If Opal could intentionally push a massive, chaotic surge, Kian could capitalize on the momentary system overload.
Lance and Opal positioned themselves on opposite sides of the orb. They were going to try to siphon for five seconds, then Opal would attempt to intentionally fail with a chaotic surge.
"Begin," Maeve instructed.
Opal and Lance simultaneously extended their hands toward the orb. Opal pushed hard, drawing on the volatile energy that defined her lineage. Lance, remembering his failure , pushed with maximum focus, trying to pull the motes.
For the first four seconds, it actually worked. The magenta began to fade, and a faint, hopeful blue shimmered into existence.
Ten... fifteen... twenty units siphoned.
But then, the block hit Lance. His weak tea reserves vanished, his pull collapsing entirely.
Opal, sensing Lance's collapse, panicked. Instead of retracting, her own volatile Motes surged—a massive, uncontrolled, "firecracker" blast of gold light aimed directly at the orb.
The orb rejected the blast immediately. The magenta exploded into a terrifying, crackling crimson. The levitation field beneath the orb failed, and the sphere plummeted onto the pressure plate.
A high-pitched, screaming alarm tore through the vault.
"Warning! Volatile Orb Instability: Imminent Cohesion Failure!"
Opal froze, her hands shaking, her Matrix spitting bright gold arcs. She had over-surged it—a failure far beyond what Kian had planned. The crimson light from the orb began to spread across the floor, consuming the motes in the air.
Tutor Maeve, for the first time, looked truly concerned, moving to the control panel.
"Dampen, Silverwoods! Dampen now! Contain the surge!"
Lance didn't hesitate. He didn't try to stop the crimson; it was too fast. He focused on Opal, who was the source of the uncontrolled volatility.
He reached out and placed his palm firmly on Opal's wristband—a complete violation of every safety rule. He visualized his energy not as a net, but as a physical vice grip around her surge. He squeezed his will, focusing on the sheer precision needed to flatten her powerful, destructive chaos.
He poured every ounce of his current strength into this singular act of containment.
The effect was instantaneous and visible. The gold arcing around Opal's wrist didn't stop, but the energy stream reversed. Instead of surging outward, the chaotic motes were instantly forced inward, stabilized, and then re-absorbed by Opal's own Matrix.
The crimson light on the floor, starved of the volatile external Motes fueling it, sputtered and died. The Volatile Orb, still sitting on the pressure plate, settled back to a mild, steady magenta.
The screaming alarm instantly ceased.
Lance pulled his hand away, his entire body trembling with the effort. He had been holding a chaotic, volatile force in a tight vise. His wristband, his own Matrix, was glowing brightly—a sign it had just performed maximum absorption and containment.
He had successfully stabilized a Level-2 critical surge.
Opal stared at her hand, stunned by the sudden, dead quiet of her own Matrix. "You stopped it," she breathed. "You just... cancelled my power."
Tutor Maeve approached the orb, her expression unreadable. She checked the control panel, which showed a spike of incredible chaos followed by an immediate, steep drop to zero—the precise signature of Lance's defensive action.
"The integrity of the room is stable," Maeve confirmed, turning back to Lance. "That containment was flawless. High-level stabilization."
Then, a cold voice cut in from the observation window—Dean Eris had been watching.
"High-level stabilization indeed. That maneuver is beyond the capacity of any basic Key Bearer," Dean Eris said, entering the vault. She looked at Lance, then at his glowing wristband. "That stabilization was performed by the Matrix, Tutor Maeve. Not the student. The Matrix sensed the threat and utilized the dampening protocols."
Dean Eris walked over to Lance, her eyes calculating. "Your Matrix saved you, Silverwoods. Not your skill. However," she added, an unexpected note of caution entering her voice, "the precision required to stabilize chaos on that scale suggests the Matrix is operating at high efficiency. We will continue the remedial work, focusing on Mote Siphoning. We need to get you to fifty units."
Lance had achieved his first major success—containing a catastrophe using his unique precision skill—but the credit was instantly given to the technology, not his slow-growing power. He had pushed his mastery of containment to approximately 5%, completing the initial growth of Phase I.
He had saved the room, but he was still stuck in remedial. And the truth of his power remained hidden.