So, there had been a sliiight miscalculation.

  Eydis had walked out of Math fully expecting immediate detention, only to later learn it was scheduled for after school. Her dramatic exit was taken as pure disrespect instead of a simple misunderstanding.

  She scowled.

  While her royal tutors had taught her kingdom-building shenanigans and four dead languages, none of which mattered, by the way, they failed to cover the baffling social codes of twenty-first-century private school.

  She could solve Algebra with her eyes closed. But skipping a class, which clearly meant she didn’t want to be there, somehow resulted in being mandated more time at school.

  It made perfect sense.

  Though three more such strikes would lead to her being dragged into a compulsory attendance at an unwanted parent-teacher intervention.

  Sighing, she opened the science-building map on her phone. After fifteen minutes of wrong turns her legs ached, and she began to seriously reconsider this whole “regular student” act.

  At last, she reached Room 3A.

  Pushing the door open, Eydis found a female student sitting at the teacher’s desk, her pen hovering over the notebook. Silky blonde hair framed a face that might have been considered delicate, if not for the striking, sharp golden eyes. How nostalgic.

  "If it isn't the infamous Eydis."

  “I’ll take the compliment.” Eydis claimed the nearest seat. The moment their eyes met, an unnatural gleam lit the blonde’s irises. Power? Or just the light playing tricks?

  "I'm Athena," the blonde introduced herself coolly. Her eyes then widened, and her next words came out almost by accident. “And maybe we move past naming people by their hair colour.”

  Interesting.

  “Athena. Our illustrious student president.” Eydis tilted her head. “I was under the impression mind-reading without permission was frowned upon. How refreshing to be wrong.”

  “So the rumours were right. You’re sharp.” Athena leaned back slightly in her chair. “I’ve wanted to meet the one responsible for Tiffany’s rather abrupt exit.”

  Eydis’s smile curled sharper. Rising with fluid grace, she crossed the small distance to the desk, and bent just close enough that her next words were velvet-soft.

  “Funny how that worked out. The one person who could have ended Tiffany with a single glance… mysteriously unavailable during the entire investigation.”

  "My Gift—”

  “—shouldn’t be wasted on irrelevant little me.” Eydis let the words dip. “Except you didn’t wait for permission just now. Must be exhausting, pretending you’re above it.”

  She leaned in a little closer. “Go on, President. Look properly this time."

  Athena set her eyes on the window panes. Golden afternoon light bathed her side profile in bronze. “I’d rather not.”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Is our Student President afraid of what she might find? Eydis thought, aiming the taunt at Athena.

  No reaction.

  “So looking away… that’s how you keep me out?” Eydis ventured.

  “Impressive deduction, especially impressive for someone with such a conveniently missing memory.” Athena looked down at her notes and began to write. “Now, if you’re finished, I have actual work to do.”

  “Just between us.” Eydis leaned one hip against the edge of the desk, “how about a little white lie? Let’s just pretend I sat through this riveting detention.”

  Athena finally looked up. “Give me one reason I should lie on an official log for you.”

  “Compassion? I'm a poor nobody with no memory, just trying to survive while the student council’s finest keeps her hands clean." Eydis shrugged. “I understand. When it’s between a golden girl and the school ghost, you protect the one who reflects well on you.”

  Athena’s fingers tightened around her pen.

  “And if I’m that irrelevant… does it actually matter whether I sat here or not?” Eydis added.

  Athena watched her without blinking.

  “So either you mark me present, or you spend the next hour sifting through memories I guarantee you’d rather leave untouched,” Eydis said. “Your call.”

  Athena exhaled, lowered the pen until its tip met the page and drew a single line. “Just so you know, Eydis, it wasn’t nepotism. Everyone’s fighting something.”

  Everyone? Eydis arched a brow.

  Athena raised her eyes fully now. A brief pulse of energy flickered in the depths of her golden irises. “And even if I’d looked, even if I’d seen everything Tiffany was hiding, it still wouldn’t have broken her the way you did. So thank you.”

  It was Eydis's turn to look away. “Possibly.”

  Without another word, she gathered her bag and walked out. Once the door clicked shut, she exhaled and allowed herself to finally relaxed.

  That had been quite tricky. Athena’s ability to read minds was unexpected, and lingering too long was akin to playing with fire. Back in her world, mind reading was unheard of, unless… but that wasn’t important for now.

  Her priority was to catalogue these so-called “Gifted” and their mechanisms. Because if there were more like Athena, her cover wouldn’t hold much longer.

  A hidden laboratory functioned beneath layers of reinforced concrete, machines working in silence while a terminal blinked.

  A projector threw streaming lines of code across the wall as Adrian's fingers flew over the keyboard and the drone pushed deeper into the dark. His golden eyes darted between the glitching image and his own screen.

  Beside him, Professor Indigo adjusted the final knob until the drone’s telemetry steadied into crisp resolution. On screen, a colossal, glistening pink eye dominated the Alchymian sky.

  “Charming,” Indigo commented.

  Adrian edged closer to the monitor. “That’s the official designation now? Charming? The feed’s still glitching. This drone’s our latest model, no?”

  “Interference field, perhaps. But watch this.” Indigo scrubbed the footage backward, then played it at quarter speed. “There.”

  From the iris, a thin ribbon of violet mist flowed downward.

  Adrian frowned. “And that’s… significant because?”

  “The Council’s rattled. After daily, all-day meetings and circular arguments, they still couldn’t decide what to do next other than delay. I’m surprised we were granted jurisdiction over the… Eye so easily, given it’s in Alchymia.”

  Adrian raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but he didn’t say anything else.

  Indigo captured a still frame and dropped it into a folder labelled Urgent Report and continued, “And then our unexpected variable crash-landed here.”

  “The knight? Damien?”

  “For the moment he’s quartered in a hotel with a crash course in baseline reality. If we can backtrace his point of entry…” indigo met Adrian’s gaze. “Interdimensional power, Adrian.”

  Adrian smirked. “You sound almost excited.”

  “I am. Regardless, the Council has requested our presence in Alchymia.”

  “To investigate the eye directly?”

  “Correct.”

  Adrian stretched and leaned back. “Please don’t tell me we’re flying commercial.”

  “Of course not. While we’re on Alchymia… your younger sister goes to St Kevin’s, doesn’t she?”

  Adrian’s fingers curled, then flexed. “Yes. It’s different now.”

  “Different how?”

  “It isn’t just being Gifted that gets you in any more. It’s drawing legacy families who think magic is something you can trade through connections, like equity.”

  “Sometimes,” Indigo said, “they’re right.”

  Adrian paused a moment too long, then changed tack. “Anyway. Any working theories on the Eye yet, Professor?”

  “Not until I see it myself, directly.”

  “So you believe it’s a genuine threat?”

  “I believe...” Indigo closed his laptop. “It's only the beginning.”