Advent of the Tenth Script

The silence in Cael's room wasn't peaceful anymore.

It was watchful.

Outside, the dormitory halls had long since gone quiet. No

curfew patrols. No late footsteps. Only the faint hum of mana threads woven

into the architecture, like veins under the skin of the Academy. But Cael

wasn't listening to that. Not really.

He sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, breath

steady—but not meditating.

Waiting.

The knock had come last night. Not at the door. Inside his

mind.

And now... something answered.

The hum in his head returned—sharper this time. Not pain.

Not noise.

Calculation.

Then:

[ SYSTEM OVERRIDE DETECTED. ]

Initiating Logical Core Protocol...

Host recognized: Cael Valeon

A rush of cold swept down his spine. Not real. Not physical.

Information. A grid unfolded behind his eyes—maps, ratios, structural glyphs,

decay rates, ward pressure.

Then the screen returned—hovering in the air, sharp and

impossible.

---

Status:

[Cael Valeon]

Tier 1 — Level 9

Affinity:

— Logic - basic

— Telekinesis - basic

Condition: Stable

Override Mode: Unlocking...

❖ MISSION FUNCTION ACTIVATED ❖

Primary Objective:

❖ Prevent Collapse Event

[Details Restricted]

Secondary Tasks:

— Trace anomaly beneath arena structure

— Map hidden glyphic sequences (3% complete)

— Identify source of arcane resonance

Reward Upon Completion:

+1 Level

Logic Affinity Growth

Skill Unlock: [Analytic Threading I]

Mission Status: INCOMPLETE

Estimated Risk of Failure:

❖ [Cognitive Breach / Structural

Rift Exposure]

Note: Passive observation protocol engaged.

---

Cael stared.

Not at the screen—through it.

A Collapse Event? The words alone sounded engineered.

Purposeful. Not natural. Not magical either.

And then—his level. It was static… for now. Still Level 9.

But the window pulsed faintly now, like it was waiting. Watching. Measuring his

progress not by power, but by discovery.

He rose slowly and walked to his desk. Fingers trembled

slightly—not from fear, but anticipation.

He remembered a principle he'd once lived by, back in a life

that still echoed through his bones:

Systems fail when built on secrets.

The Academy… was full of secrets.

And now? He was being told to find them.

---

Morning came like a blade.

Team 17 gathered again, this time not at the courtyard, but

at the northern overlook—an old, unused ledge where the mist rose from the

valley and light filtered in narrow beams.

Nia's eyes found his immediately. "You didn't sleep," she

said quietly.

"I didn't need to," Cael replied.

Jorvan raised an eyebrow. "Did your logic tell you that?"

Cael didn't smile. "Something did."

He knelt, unfurling a new diagram.

"The glyph patterns around the arena aren't just

containment. They're layered with delay runes—too old to stabilize under

high-tier mana surges. That's why it cracked."

"Cracked?" Tobin repeated. "You think the arena broke?"

"No," Cael said. "I think something under it broke through."

A pause.

Then, from behind them, came the unexpected voice.

"You're not wrong."

They turned fast—blades and spells half-formed.

It was a girl. Upper class. Long coat, no emblem. Strange

eyes—one green, one faintly silver.

"You're Team 17," she said. "The ones who watched

yesterday's duel and walked away smarter."

Nia narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"

"I'm not your enemy," the girl replied. "But I'm not

supposed to be here either. So let's keep this short."

She walked up to Cael. Looked at his diagram. Her expression

didn't change, but her voice dropped a degree colder.

"You saw it, didn't you? The glyph that flared after Freya

fell."

"You saw it too," Cael replied.

She nodded. "Then we don't have time. They think this year's

Trial is just another selection."

"It's not," Cael said quietly. "It's a pressure valve."

The girl didn't blink. "No. It's a containment test. They're

trying to see how long the old bindings will hold when pushed by students who

don't know what they're awakening."

She turned and left without another word.

Cael didn't call after her. He didn't need to.

Something deep inside him had already begun to move.

The system mission window flashed once more—quiet, hungry.

[ Anomaly Traced: +3% Progress ]

He didn't smile.

But something under his skin did.

---

That night, as the Academy lights dimmed, something beneath

the arena stirred.

Not violently. Not fully.

But enough.

Enough for a sliver of awareness to slide past ancient

seals.

A whisper.

A name.

It didn't speak it aloud, but Cael heard it in his sleep.

Not in words, but in structure.

A sequence. A riddle.

A logic loop left behind by something not human.

And in the dream that followed, Cael stood at the edge of a

broken corridor, watching symbols spiral across the walls—alive, moving,

whispering.

And behind him?

A door opened.

Not with creak or flame.

But with understanding.

And what waited on the other side... had been waiting a

long, long time.

The thing behind the door didn't step forward.

It didn't need to.

Its presence unfolded across dimensions Cael didn't have

names for. Not power. Not intent.

Computation.

A cold architecture of thought—alien and vast—pressed gently

against the edge of his mind. Not to invade. To test.

How far will this one go?

The question wasn't spoken. It pulsed, a recursive pattern

laced with ancient logic. And Cael, even in sleep, responded not with words...

but with structure.

He mapped the corridor. Not on paper—in thought.

Mapped the points of failure in the stone. The imperfect

runes. The sealed vaults and blind glyphs. Each sequence nested inside another,

winding like a question with no punctuation.

Until—

A new prompt appeared in the darkness:

[Secondary Directive Triggered]

Mission Tier Expanded

❖ New Subtask: Locate Origin

Node

❖ Subtask Progress: 0%

Estimated Instability Surge in Local Wardlines: 7 Days

Seven days.

That's all.

He awoke with the time echoing in his skull.

Seven days before something cracked—openly.

Seven days before secrets bled into the real world.

And as Cael sat in the dark, heart pounding, a final update

whispered across the system's flickering edge:

[Cognitive Integrity Holding: 92%]

Note: Threshold for mental collapse at 68%

❖ Passive Mental Shielding

Recommended

Cael touched the side of his head. No heat. No pain. But the

pressure remained.

Someone—or something—was watching through him now.

And it wasn't done.

Not yet.

Author's note

"Second drop today. Something is stirring beneath the surface — and Cael's not the only one who's noticed. Next chapter lands soon. We're just getting started."