The weight of his presence settled over us, suffocating in its quiet control. It wasn't the kind of power that needed to be announced—it was the kind that existed in the air itself, pressing down on everything around him, making the very walls feel as though they were closing in.
And yet, his expression was pleasant.
Too pleasant.
Like he was indulging us.
Like he found this amusing.
I didn't move.
Neither did Camille.
Tessa's hand was already on her sword, her stance shifting just slightly—not aggressive, but not at ease either. Claire, ever the quickest to react, looked like she was fighting the very real urge to bolt in the opposite direction.
The headmaster took another step forward, his silver eyes never leaving mine.
"You shouldn't be here," he said simply, like he was commenting on the weather. "It's late. You should be in your dormitories."
There was no hostility in his tone. No outright accusation.
Just fact.
And that?
That was more unsettling than anything else.
Because it wasn't just a warning.
It was a statement.
A reminder.
He knew exactly why we were here.
And he was telling us, in the calmest way possible, that we weren't supposed to know anything at all.
I forced my breath to stay even, my posture carefully neutral. "We were on our way back," I said smoothly. "After all, it's been a long night."
His lips curved ever so slightly. "Yes," he murmured, "I imagine it has."
Something flickered in his gaze—interest.
But not in me.
In us.
In what we had done tonight.
In what we had seen.
The silence stretched.
A calculated pause.
Then—
"Did you enjoy the trials, Lady Vandren?"
The shift was so subtle, so effortlessly placed into the conversation that I almost missed it.
Almost.
He wasn't just talking about the academy trials.
He was talking about tonight.
The monsters. The attack. The way we had fought, the way we had survived.
He was testing me.
I smiled.
The same controlled, practiced smile I had used for years, one that revealed nothing. "They were… educational," I said smoothly. "I've learned quite a bit."
"Have you?" His head tilted slightly, as if considering my words. "I'm glad to hear it. Knowledge, after all, is what separates us from the chaos outside these walls."
Tessa exhaled sharply through her nose, not bothering to hide her irritation. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
I shot her a look.
But the headmaster only chuckled.
Amused.
Like we were children fumbling with things far beyond us.
Like we were already losing.
"Lady Vale," he said pleasantly, "you and your friends should rest. This has been a long night, and I have no doubt that the academy will be addressing this situation in due time."
In other words—stay out of it.
Tessa bristled, her fingers tightening around her weapon. "And what exactly is the academy going to do about it?"
A beat of silence.
Then, slowly, deliberately, the headmaster's gaze turned to her, and for the first time, his expression shifted.
It wasn't unkind.
But it was a reminder.
One that didn't need words to be understood.
Tessa's lips pressed into a thin line.
She understood it too.
Then, just as easily as it had come, his expression smoothed back into something unreadable.
"As I said," he murmured, "this will be handled. You need not concern yourselves."
He turned to me again, and for the briefest moment, I felt it.
A quiet, pressing weight against the edges of my mind.
A test.
A probe.
Something that wasn't quite magic, but wasn't far from it either.
I didn't react.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't even let my pulse change.
And just like that—it was gone.
He smiled.
"Good night, Lady Vandren."
Then, with a slow turn, he walked past us, disappearing down the corridor.
The moment he was gone, the tension snapped like a rubber band pulled too tight.
A sharp exhale came from Claire, her shoulders slumping just slightly, like she had been holding her breath the entire time. Tessa cursed under her breath, muttering something about how she was two seconds away from hitting something. Camille, however, remained still—her expression unreadable, her ice-blue gaze still locked on the now-empty hallway.
I should have been more focused on what had just happened, on the way the Headmaster's presence had pressed against us, suffocating and unshakable. On the fact that we had just been warned—no, controlled—as if we were merely children poking our heads where they didn't belong.
But instead—
A voice cut through my thoughts.
A very familiar, very irritated voice.
'I just woke up and the Headmaster is acting weird, the heck is going on?'
I blinked.
Then, before I could stop it, a smirk curled at the edges of my lips.
Ah. So she was back.
Claire gave me a weird look. "Why are you smiling?"
I wiped the expression off my face immediately. "No reason."
Tessa snorted. "Yeah, well, I'd like to know what the hell is happening, because if that man was supposed to make us feel better, he failed spectacularly."
I barely heard her.
Because Chloe was still talking.
'No, seriously, what did I miss? Why does this place feel weirder than usual? And why do I feel like I just got thrown into a horror movie where I'm the only one who doesn't know what's happening?'
Oh, that was rich.
'That must be terrible,' I thought back smoothly.
The response was immediate.
'I'll kill you.'
A laugh almost escaped me, but I caught it just in time.
Camille's sharp eyes flickered toward me just slightly, but I ignored it, already focusing back on Chloe's presence in my mind.
So my guess had been right.
Now that I wasn't the antagonist, now that I had derailed the story completely, something had shifted.
Something had filled the void I left behind.
And whatever it was, it was far worse than me.
The butterfly effect hadn't just changed my place in the narrative—it had pushed something else forward.
Something more dangerous.
Something more powerful.
And now?
Now, I had to find out what it was.
I let out a slow breath, forcing my posture to remain relaxed, composed. No point in looking shaken now—not when we had just barely escaped that conversation intact. Not when I still had questions that needed answers.
"For now, let's find Ms. Sinclair," Camille finally said, breaking the silence. Her voice was even, smooth, but there was something careful in the way she spoke—like she was measuring every word before saying it.
"She should be in her office at this time, right?" Claire added, glancing between us. "Unless she's, you know, out on the battlefield due to the whole North Gate situation."
Tessa scoffed. "Wouldn't be surprising."
"Not at all," Camille murmured, brushing a stray lock of platinum-white hair behind her ear. "Evelyn Sinclair isn't the type to stay put while the empire is under attack."
That was true.
Ms. Sinclair wasn't like the other professors.
She didn't just teach.
She knew things. More than she should. More than any regular instructor at the academy was supposed to.
And she had never once hesitated to speak when she thought something wasn't right.
If there was anyone who might actually tell us what was going on—who might actually have answers—it would be her.
The only problem?
If she was at the frontlines, if she was directly involved in whatever was happening at the North Gate, then getting any information out of her would be far more complicated than simply sneaking into her office.
Tessa crossed her arms, shifting her weight. "So we're just hoping she's still around?"
"Hope is a strong word," I muttered, adjusting my gloves absently. "Let's call it an educated assumption."
Claire sighed, throwing her hands up. "Fine. But if she's not there, I say we just start going through her stuff until we find something useful."
Camille shot her a look. "We are not ransacking a professor's office."
"Why not?" Claire huffed. "She's obviously hiding something. And if she's not going to be polite enough to be around to tell us herself, then why shouldn't we help ourselves to the next best thing?"
Tessa smirked. "She's got a point."
"Absolutely not," Camille repeated, her voice clipped.
Claire rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright. But if we get there and it turns out she isn't around, don't blame me when I start searching for secret documents."
I rubbed my temple, already feeling a headache forming. "Let's just get to her office first before we start planning a whole crime."
Claire grinned. "Too late."
Camille muttered something under her breath, but she didn't argue further.
I turned toward the hall, glancing once toward the direction the Headmaster had disappeared.
There was still something unsettling about that entire interaction.
Like he had been waiting for us.
Like he had already known what we were looking for.
But now wasn't the time to focus on that.
Right now, we needed to find Evelyn Sinclair.
Because if she really was here—if she really had stayed behind while all of this was happening—
Then she knew something.
And I was going to make sure we found out what.
For myself and for Chloe.
'How thoughtful, villainess.'
Thank you.