Chapter 45: Beyond Abilities
The arena was silent now, eerily so after the chaos that had consumed it less than an hour before. Fractured stone and faint traces of warped essence still scarred the center of the battleground, like wounds that refused to heal. The very air seemed to shimmer with residual dimensional energy, creating an unsettling distortion that made looking directly at the manifestation site physically uncomfortable.
Principal Whitmore stood at the heart of it all, his hands clasped tightly behind his back to hide their trembling. His face was pale but controlled, the weight of responsibility pressing heavily upon his shoulders like a physical burden. He had seen incidents before awakenings gone wrong, beasts breaching the outer wards, student duels that escalated beyond safety protocols but this... this was different. This was something that challenged the very foundations of everything he thought he knew about dimensional physics and Academy security.
The twisted metal framework of the arena’s protective barriers lay scattered across the stone like the skeleton of some great beast, each piece bearing scorch marks that pulsed with an otherworldly light. The sight filled him with a dread that went beyond professional concern it was the fear of a man who realized that everything he had built his career understanding might be fundamentally wrong.
"This will not leave these walls," Whitmore said sharply to the gathered staff, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence. "Do you understand? Not a whisper. Not a letter home. If word spreads, we’ll have chaos from every corner of the kingdom."
Professor Aldara, the Academy’s senior dimensional theorist, shifted uncomfortably. "Principal, with respect, eight hundred students don’t simply vanish without questions being asked. The families will demand"
"The families will be told that there was a training accident," Whitmore interrupted firmly. "A dimensional experiment that required emergency evacuation. The students are being treated at a secure facility while we investigate the extent of their injuries."
"And when they demand to see their children?" Professor Aldara asked quietly, his usual confidence shattered by what he had witnessed.
Whitmore’s jaw tightened. "We buy time. We tell them the injuries are severe enough to require quarantine, that visits could interfere with the healing process. Anything to keep them from learning the truth until we understand what we’re dealing with."
The professors murmured uncertain assent, though unease was written plainly across their faces. None of them were comfortable with the deception, but all of them understood the alternative. If word spread that the Academy had lost eight hundred students to a phenomenon that shouldn’t exist, the panic would be catastrophic.
And then the air shifted.
A ripple of pressure rolled through the arena, quiet but undeniable, like the moment before lightning strikes. Every head turned toward the arched entry as a tall figure stepped inside, his presence commanding silence more effectively than the principal’s barked orders. His long coat was travel-stained but impeccably cut, speaking to both wealth and recent hard travel. His silver was tied back in a style that suggested noble breeding, but his hands bore the calluses of someone who had known real work and real violence.
Most striking were his eyes sharp and piercing, the pale gray of winter storms, eyes that seemed to see more than they should, that looked not just at the ruined arena but through it to something deeper and more troubling.
Lucian Valorian.
Principal Whitmore felt his blood run cold. He knew the name, knew the reputation, knew the implications of this man’s presence. Valorian didn’t involve himself in minor incidents. His appearance here meant that whatever had happened in the arena was far worse than even Whitmore had realized.
"Lord Valorian," Whitmore greeted carefully, his voice a mixture of recognition and barely concealed alarm. "This is an Academy matter. I don’t recall summoning you."
Lucian’s gaze swept the ruined floor methodically, lingering on the jagged crack at the arena’s center that still pulsed faintly with residual essence. The dimensional distortion seemed to respond to his presence, the shimmer intensifying as if recognizing something familiar. He said nothing at first, and when he finally spoke, his voice carried low and steady, filling the vast chamber with an authority that made the assembled professors step back instinctively.
"If this were merely an Academy matter," Lucian said, his words precise and deliberate, "I would not be here. You know that, Principal."
The simple statement carried implications that made Whitmore’s stomach clench with dread. If Valorian was involved, it meant the white rift manifestation was connected to something larger, something that threatened far more than just the Academy’s reputation.
Whitmore bristled, clinging to his authority as the only shield against the growing sense that events were spinning beyond his control. "Our wards are intact. The situation is under control"
Lucian cut across him with a glance sharp enough to halt the protest mid-sentence. "Control?" His voice carried a dangerous edge that made several professors step further back. "A rift manifested inside these walls. Within the most secure institution of the kingdom. A white rift, if I’m not mistaken, which consumed eight hundred students and vanished without trace. That is not control, Principal. That is catastrophic failure."
The words struck like a physical blow. Whitmore felt the color drain from his face as the full implications of Valorian’s knowledge hit him. Not only did this man know exactly what had happened, but he understood the theoretical classification better than most dimensional scholars he has been in the rift for ten years.
"How did you" Whitmore began.
"Know?" Lucian’s smile was cold and humorless. "Because this was not an isolated incident, Principal. Your Academy was simply the first target."
The silence that followed was profound and terrifying. Every professor in the arena was staring at Lucian now, their faces reflecting dawning horror as they processed his words.
Professor Aldara found her voice first. "First target? You mean there will be others?"
Before Lucian could respond, a voice answered from the shadows of the entryway. "Because incidents like this don’t happen in isolation. When something this impossible occurs, it sends ripples through the entire dimensional matrix."
Colonel Hestian stepped forward, the dark green of his military cloak marking him as the highest authority in uniform present. His expression was grim, but there was a flicker of familiarity even respect in his eyes as they met Lucian’s. Behind him came a small contingent of military personnel, their faces bearing the tight professionalism of soldiers responding to an unprecedented crisis.
Lucian inclined his head formally. "Colonel Hestian. So the military is already mobilizing response teams. Good. At least someone understands the gravity of what’s happened here."
"We’ve been monitoring dimensional readings across the kingdom since reports of the Academy incident reached us," Hestian confirmed, his voice carrying the weight of someone coordinating emergency responses to an unknown threat. "What occurred here is unlike anything in our records."
Whitmore’s gaze flicked between the two men, noting the easy familiarity in their interaction. "You two know each other."
"Our paths have crossed before," Hestian said diplomatically. "Lord Valorian has been... helpful in understanding certain dimensional phenomena that fall outside standard military knowledge since his return ."
The careful phrasing told Whitmore more than direct explanation would have. Valorian wasn’t just an interested nobleman he was someone with specialized knowledge of dimensional theory, someone the military turned to when their own experts were insufficient.
Whitmore drew himself up, clinging to his remaining authority. "I remind you both," he pressed, his voice carrying forced confidence, "this is the Royal Academy. My Academy. I will not have outsiders trampling jurisdiction and turning this into a spectacle. Parents trust me with their heirs"
"And if parents learn that their heirs perished to something that should not exist here?" Lucian interrupted smoothly, his tone conversational but carrying an undertone of threat. "Your Academy will be finished before the week is out. The riots alone will burn your walls to ash."
The casual precision with which Valorian outlined the political catastrophe waiting to unfold made Whitmore’s protests die in his throat. Every word was true, and they both knew it.
Hestian stepped forward, his military bearing asserting itself. "Principal, with respect, this situation has already moved beyond Academy jurisdiction. We have eight hundred missing students and dimensional phenomena that violate every established law of the rift. This is now a matter of kingdom security."
"Eight hundred students," a professor whispered, his voice hollow. "Gone without a trace."
The scope of the catastrophe settled over them like a shroud. Whitmore felt his legs weaken as he processed the implications. Eight hundred of the kingdom’s most promising young awakened, simply vanished.
Lucian’s gaze returned to the cracked stone, his expression growing darker. "The question isn’t just how this happened, Colonel. The question is why it happened here, at this specific time."
"You think this was targeted?" Hestian asked, his tone sharpening with new concern.
"White rifts don’t manifest naturally," Lucian replied carefully. "And they certainly don’t manifest inside the most heavily warded institution in the kingdom by accident."
Professor Aldara stepped forward, her academic curiosity overriding her fear. "But that’s impossible. No awakened has ever demonstrated the ability to create rifts, let alone control them. And the power requirements for such a manifestation would be..."
"Beyond any known awakened ability, yes," Lucian agreed. "Which means we’re dealing with either completely new forms of dimensional manipulation, or forces that operate by rules we don’t understand."***