The days following the jump were marked by quiet productivity.
The witches returned to their routines naturally — training, studying, reviewing procedures.
Kael observed from a distance, never interfering.
But something was in the air.
—
The first to notice was Reina.
She was walking down the northern corridor when she saw Patricia leaving the League's archive room — a room only Kael was meant to access.
The door had been closed, yes, but for a moment, before shutting it, Patricia stood inside… observing the panels.
Later that day in the dining hall, Reina whispered to Marie:
— She was in there. Alone.
— Maybe just curious, — Marie replied.
— Or maybe... something more.
—
That night, Kael summoned Patricia.
They met in the library.
No one else was present.
— You went where you shouldn't, — he said.
— I didn't open anything, — she answered, defensive. — The door wasn't locked.
— That's not the point.
— I just wanted to see what the League hides. What you hide.
Kael was silent for a few long moments.
— Are you afraid?
— No.
— Then you're in doubt.
— I am. Haven't you ever been?
He drew a deep breath.
— Many times. But I never let doubt guide my hand.
—
The next morning, Helena requested a word.
— They feel the tension.
— Yes.
— Does it endanger anything?
Kael took his time before answering.
— Not yet.
—
That afternoon, in the training hall, Nikita and Claudia went harder than usual in combat.
Neither was hurt, but the look they exchanged after the clash said more than the words they didn't speak.
—
That evening, Kael gathered everyone in the bar.
No armor. No ranks.
— If you want to know what lies behind the League, time will show you.
— But if doubt turns to distrust, this base will fall from within.
He looked at Patricia.
— Mistakes are inevitable. Betrayal is not.
She lowered her eyes. Said nothing.
— We are still at the beginning. Let's not break what hasn't had time to grow.
He raised a glass.
— To the silence between us. May it never hold poison.
They toasted.
But not all of them drank.
---
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