CHAPTER 99— Alchemy City(5)
Thud.
Orven placed the small, unassuming metal box squarely on Stalin's polished desk. With a slow, deliberate click, he flipped open the latch, revealing the shimmering, prismatic shard of the Aether Rune resting on black velvet.
Stalin stared down at the diamond-like fragment. Slowly, he reached out with a pair of tiny silver tongs, lifting the crystal to examine it from every angle under the amber desk lamp with a sharp, calculating gaze.
"Is this the rune you were speaking of?" Stalin asked, his voice low.
"Yes. That's the one."
"Where on earth did you even stumble across something like this? The mana signature is entirely anomalous—unlike any rune I've ever encountered. It feels like it's vibrating with multiple elemental frequencies simultaneously, including wavelengths we haven't even cataloged yet."
"A student brought it into the workshop," Orven replied stiffly.
"A student?"
"Aye. While crafting his custom wand, I managed to salvage a tiny fragment for myself."
"Hmm... I see." Stalin lowered the tongs, setting the fragment back down before folding his hands. "Even so, why bring this directly to me? The Magneering Castle and the Council usually operate hand-in-hand. So Why didn't you take this to Councilman Ferner instead? And what exactly do you expect to gain from coming to me, Mister Orven?"
Orven locked eyes with the Alchemist King.
The warm, grandfatherly persona Stalin wore for the public was gone; in it's place were eyes sharp enough to cut glass.
"I expect a better future for both Alchemy City and the Magneering Castle," Orven answered firmly.
Stalin blinked as if genuinely caught off guard by that answer.
"What?"
"I will be completely frank, Lord Stalin. I have been an admirer of yours for a very long time. The way you carved out an independent sanctuary for alchemists and ruled it with an iron fist—defying the Mage Council at every turn—inspired the previous Magneering Castle head, Lord Toyo. But the current head, Nisan Nau, is nothing more than a spineless puppet dancing to Councilman Ferner's tune."
Orven clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.
"He has reduced the Magneering Castle to a commercial joke. Every year, I have to fake a smile and pretend to be passionate while crafting warded trinkets and student wands. There hasn't been a single genuine technological breakthrough since Nisan took over."
Stalin studied Orven's bitter expression, reading the raw frustration beneath the anger. "Even so, approaching me like this is sudden. If you were this dissatisfied with your leadership, why wait until now?
"Because up until now, I was empty-handed," Orven said flatly. "I wouldn't dare bring a petty grievance to the Alchemist King without leverage."
He leaned forward. "This rune holds the key to an entirely new paradigm of power—one that could trigger a revolution in alchemy just as massive as the Progenitor Magis's era. I want you to help me spark a new golden age for magneering and alchemy. Because if we sit back and do nothing, the Magneering Castle—and eventually every independent alchemist—will be reduced to nothing more than glorified slaves to the Council."
Orven bowed his head low, his posture rigid. "Please, save the Magneering Castle, Alchemist King."
---
Meanwhile, across the campus, Rowan and Sarina sat inside the cramped, cluttered workshop room of an upper-year alchemist named Ritchie, processing the heavy revelations of the afternoon.
"You... Ritchie! How have you been, man?!" Ritvik had burst into the room moments earlier, wearing an expression of absolute, unearned confidence.
Ritchie, who had been carefully pipetting a glowing purple solvent into a flask, slowly raised his head, staring at Ritvik with dead, exhausted eyes. "Who are you?"
"Wh—what? You don't recognize me?" Ritvik stammered, his confidence instantly deflating.
"No. Never seen you in my life."
Rowan and Sarina exchanged highly suspicious, sideways glances.
Realizing his bluff had failed miserably, Ritvik immediately scrambled to save face.
He lunged forward, slinging an arm in a brutal headlock around Ritchie's neck and dragging him violently toward the corner of the room.
"Come here for a second, old buddy! It's been so long, I'm sure your memory is just a bit fuzzy!" Ritvik hissed through his teeth.
"W-what the hell?! Who are you?! Where are you dragging me?!" Ritchie choked out, though his frail, lab-bound body was entirely powerless against Ritvik's desperate iron grip.
Brought back to the present, five agonizing minutes later, Ritchie was rubbing his neck with a grimace while the duo waited.
"What took you two so long?" Rowan asked, tapping his foot in frustration.
Sarina crossed her arms. "Who knows? Maybe he was busy threatening the poor guy into pretending they were childhood best friends."
"Haha! See? I knew you'd remember me eventually, you old bastard!" Ritvik boomed, marching back into the center of the room with his arm still locked casually around Ritchie's neck, giving him a playful, knuckle-crushing punch to the ribs.
"Yeah, yeah... though to be fair, it's pretty hard to recognize you when those thick glasses cover half your face," Ritchie wheezed. He cleared his throat and turned his tired eyes toward Rowan. "Anyway... Ritvik filled me in. You wanted to ask about Alokik?"
Rowan nodded eagerly.
Ritchie sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, personally, there isn't much to tell. Even among the top-ranking students, Alokik kept to himself. He rarely talked to anyone and spent ninety percent of his life locked in the synthesis labs. He only had two or three people he ever really interacted with."
He paused, lowering his hand. "Though... if I remember correctly, right before his death... maybe two or three months prior... he suddenly vanished from the campus."
Rowan's heart skipped a beat. "Vanished? Did he drop out or leave GAA?"
"No, he didn't leave the city. From what whispered rumors went around, he suffered some kind of sudden accident, got hospitalized off-site, and was completely cut off. Beyond that, I don't know anything else."
Rowan dropped his chin into his hands, his shoulders slumping. 'Another dead end.'
"However..." Ritchie added, holding up a finger. "I do know where to find one of his closest personal friends. If you want real answers, I can take you to him."
Rowan's head snapped up, a renewed spark of hope burning in his eyes. "Please do."
---
"Hey, Kaya," Circi called out as they approached a workbench where a two-tone black to purple-haired girl was meticulously cataloging glowing reagents.
"Oh, hello, Circi," the girl—Kaya—replied, glancing up. "Who are your guests?"
Circi gestured toward Seraphine. "They're visiting from Grand Aetherion. She says she wants to ask some questions about Alokik."
"Al—? Hm... take a seat," Kaya said, gesturing to a bench.
"There. Now say thank you," Zephyr chimed in smoothly, flashing his trademark infuriating grin.
"Shut up," Seraphine snapped, a vein throbbing on her forehead as she recalled the events of the last ten minutes.
A few moments earlier...
"Hey, Circi!" Zephyr had sauntered into the lab uninvited with his usual playboy swagger, flanked by an exasperated Seraphine and her two friends.
Without missing a beat, Zephyr marched right up to a chest nut-haired girl hunched over a rack of glowing reagents, wrapping his arms smoothly around her waist. "Did you miss me, sweetheart?" he whispered right into her ear.
"No. And get your hands off me," Circi replied flatly, refusing to look up.
"Ouch, why so mean?" Zephyr pouted, turning up his charm. "After that day, I promised we'd hang out again, and look i came to see you."
Circi's resolve melted instantly. She puffed out her cheeks, averting her gaze. "Dummy... if you actually wanted to see me, you wouldn't have made me wait so long."
"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?"
"...Yeah," she muttered softly.
Seraphine, Selene, and Marna stood in the background like extras, staring at the cringeworthy display with identical soulless expressions.
"Hey, Zephyr," Seraphine had finally interrupted flatly. "Do your job."
Realizing an audience was present, Zephyr cleared his throat, turned to Circi, and smoothly redirected the conversation to help Seraphine track down someone who knew Alokik.
Back in the present, Seraphine sat across from Kaya, tapping her finger impatiently against her sleeve.
"Why do you wanna know about him anyway?" Kaya asked, narrowing her eyes.
"I'll explain my reasons later. Just tell me everything you know," Seraphine demanded.
"Thanks for the assist, Circi," Zephyr whispered near the entrance, leaning in close.
"Hmph... you only came to me because you needed helped." Circi muttered, looking away with an adorable pout.
"Oh? You know, you look dangerously cute when you're sulking," Zephyr chuckled, using his index finger to gently tilt her chin toward him before pressing a smooth, deliberate kiss to her lips.
A wet, echoing sound of audible kisses filled the otherwise quiet lab.
Seraphine, sitting just a few feet away, tried her absolute best to maintain her composure, rhythmically tapping her sleeve with her index finger as Kaya talked—but the sloppy, drawn-out kissing noises in the background were rapidly shredding her last remaining nerve cells.
THWACK.
Without breaking eye contact with Kaya, Seraphine's arm blurred. She delivered a devastating, fully-loaded right hook straight to Zephyr's jaw, sending him stumbling backward into a rack of potted ferns.
"You absolute piece of garbage!" Seraphine roared, veins popping on her temples. "If you two desperately need to swap bodily fluids, go get a room like normal human beings!"
"What the hell...?" Zephyr groaned, picking himself up off the floor while clutching his rapidly swelling cheek.
"Oh my god, Zephyr, are you okay?! Your face is completely red!" Circi gasped, dropping to her knees to inspect him.
"I'm fine, my angel," Zephyr coughed, flashing a heroic, pained smile before glaring at Seraphine. "What's this?! I literally helped you find a lead!"
"You deserved that punch, and you'll deserve the next one if you don't take your public displays of affection outside," Seraphine snarled.
"Fine, fine... we were heading out to find a room anyway," Zephyr grumbled, letting Circi help him to his feet. "You're not even going to thank me for my hard work?"
Seraphine slowly raised her fist, cracking her knuckles.
"Okay, okay! Point taken, I'm leaving! Come on, Circi. Let's go find some privacy."
Kaya watched the entire farce unfold with eyes completely devoid of life.
Back in the main tower, Smithing Master Orven bowed stiffly as he backed out of Stalin's executive office, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind him.
Stalin watched him leave, his gaze dropping back down to the small velvet box containing the prismatic Aether Rune shard.
'Incredible... I never imagined a spatial-elemental matrix of this density could naturally occur. I need to get this down to the deep research wing immediately. If we integrate this into our secondary weapon arrays—'
"Lord Stalin!"
The office door slammed open without warning. A senior administrative officer, Cale, burst into the room out of breath.
"What is the emergency, Cale?" Stalin asked calmly, instinctively reaching out to close the velvet box.
"We've located him. We finally have a confirmed position on Al Salvador's true whereabouts."
Stalin's fingers froze over the lid. A slow, terrifying smile spread across his face, entirely devoid of its grandfatherly warmth.
"Good. Assemble the enforcement squad. Let's go finish the story of Al Salvador once and for all."
Creak.
Ritchie pushed open the heavy wooden door to a massive, climate-controlled subterranean archives lab. Row upon row of glowing blue data-drives and glass distillation flasks hummed softly in the dark.
An upper-year student wearing full alchemical protective gear and rubber gloves was meticulously dripping a blue reagent into a central beaker with a micro-dropper.
"Hey, Lue," Ritchie called out quietly.
"Make it quick, I'm in the middle of a volatile titration," Lue replied without turning around.
"These visitors want to ask some questions about Alokik. Since you were one of his closest lab partners, I figured you might know the truth."
Lue's hand jerked, a stray drop of reagent hissing as it hit the counter. He slowly set his dropper down, turned around, and stared at the trio. "What is it?"
"We want to know what actually happened to Alokik," Rowan stepped forward, his voice tense. "The official reports are a mess."
Lue let out a long, shuddering breath, pulling off his protective goggles. "Alokik was a brilliant guy. Passionate, cheerful, and entirely dedicated to his research."
"I know that much," Rowan pressed. "I need to know—"
"One day, while running tests on liquid mana synthesis, a containment seal failed. Highly volatile chemical agents splashed directly into his eyes," Lue whispered, his voice trembling. "He was rushed off-campus to a secured medical facility for emergency treatment... and while he was bedridden there... Al Salvador's radical faction launched their internal raid. He was caught right in the crossfire of the hospital wing. He didn't make it out."
"Is... is that really all of it?" Rowan asked, stunned.
"Yeah. That's the tragic end of it."
Rowan stared at Lue, noticing the severe tremor in the older student's hands. 'Looks like he cared about him.' Rowan realized, lowering his head with a heavy sigh. "Thank you."
With nothing more to gain, Rowan turned and walked out into the corridor with Sarina and Ritvik trailing behind him.
"Well? Is that everything you were hoping to find?" Ritchie asked as they regrouped in the hall.
"Not really. But what can I even do now. No one knows much." Rowan replied while quietly walking.
"It doesn't make any sense," Ritvik muttered, crossing his arms with a frown. "Something is deeply wrong here."
Sarina raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"
"Think about it," Ritvik argued, his voice dropping. "Alokik was supposed to be the crown jewel of GAA's student body. Yet when he suffers a horrific, blinding accident, the academy quietly whisks him away to an off-site hospital for two full months where no students are allowed to visit him? And none of you even knew he was gone until today?"
Ritchie scowled. "Accidents happen, and the faculty wanted privacy."
"That's the convenient excuse!" Ritvik shot back. "And then, right as he's recovering, a supposed 'terrorist' Al Salvador breaks in and selectively assassinates a bedridden, blinded student instead of going after Stalin his life long enemy or the main research labs? Does that sound like a logical target for an anti-government extremist to you?"
"That wasn't the real Al Salvador— it was just a radical successor who took his name!" Ritchie argued.
"Exactly! A convenient phantom who conveniently wiped out the only student who might have known something inconvenient!" Ritvik whispered fiercely.
Rowan stopped dead in his tracks. Ritvik's paranoid breakdown was suddenly hitting uncomfortably close to home.
'Wait... could the academy have quietly gotten rid of him because his research or condition became a liability? Could the exact same kind of cover-up have happened to Bhaiya...?'
"Shut your trap, man, you're giving yourself brainworms with these insane conspiracy theories," Ritchie snapped, swatting the air dismissively and walking out.
Sarina elbowed Ritvik's arm, her eyes clearly telling him to do something.
"Hold on—if you know something else, spit it out," Ritvik grabbed his sleeve. "You owe me!"
"I owe you what?!"
"Last time when I was here i help you get that girl."
"Oh." Ritvik went silent here that. "But that's not my problem, i helped you that time and back then you said you owe me one remember?
"I will be going." Ritchie said, turning on his heel. But after taking two steps, Rowan grabbed him firmly by the shoulder.
"Please. Tell us anything else. I need to know the truth."
Ritchie stared at Rowan's desperate, haunted eyes. He opened his mouth to brush him off, but the defiance crumbled. He let out a defeated groan, his shoulders sagging.
"There... there is a restricted secondary record vault deep beneath the main administrative wing. It stores unredacted logs of every major campus incident over the past decade. If you want actual facts instead of rumors... that's where you'd have to look."
Rowan's face lit up. "Then let's go."
"Go where?" Ritchie deadpanned. "Are you out of your mind? That vault is locked behind biometric seals and counter-espionage wards. Faculty clearance is required just to walk down that corridor."
"Oh..."
"So what's our play?" Sarina asked, stepping forward calmly.
Ritchie sighed, running a hand down his face. "Okay... hear me out."
Back on the other side of campus, Seraphine and her friends were plotting their own illicit moves.
"If we want real answers about Alokik's final projects, we're going to have to break into the primary records depository," Kaya whispered.
"The records depository?" Seraphine repeated, her eyes narrowing with competitive resolve.
"Yeah. I'm willing to help. Tonight, after the faculty shift changes and everyone is asleep, we can slip inside."
Simultaneously, miles away in the subterranean research sector, Ritchie was finishing his pitch to Rowan's group.
"Tonight, after midnight, when the security patrols rotate... we make our move on the restricted vault."
And deep within the Alchemist King's private fortress, Stalin adjusted his coat, his eyes locked on a tactical map. "Tonight... we wipe out Al Salvador once and for all."
Three separate factions, driven by very different goals, prepared to plunge the GAA into chaos under the cover of midnight.
---
CHAPTER ENDS