(Location: Council of Thirteen Chambers, Substructure Vault—Beneath Drexis Tower)
Beneath the dueling arena, far below the echo of cheering students and flickering spellfire, twelve chairs sat in a perfect circle of blackstone.
Twelve figures. Twelve houses. Thirteen seats.
The thirteenth, at the circle's head, remained empty. As always.
In the dim blue glow of the substructure vault, a circular scrying mirror hovered between them, suspended above a basin of liquid aether. The mirror showed the duel playing out in real time, Kaelen Dros arcing lightning from his palm, Marek Vales standing untouched.
Unranked. Unread. And yet unburned.
The silence in the vault was a living thing.
Archmagus Veylan of House Dros broke it first.
"This is absurd."
His voice was harsh, electric, as if shaped by his own affinity.
"The Grid rejected him. That should have been the end of it. Now we've given the boy a platform. A public test. For what? Spectacle? "
Lady Serynne of House Maelion swirled the mist within her goblet, her voice like flowing water.
"No. For confirmation. We had to see if the interference was real."
Magister Olwen, custodian of the Sigil Grid, narrowed his eyes at the boy on the scrying mirror.
"It's not interference," he said. "It's resistance. Passive at first. Now… active."
A ripple passed through the basin.
On the mirror, Kaelen launched a second strike, an explosive arc of lightning meant to stun. Marek raised a hand, barely a gesture.
The bolt didn't strike him.
It shattered in midair.
One councilor stood from his seat. A thin man with violet runes etched across his jaw.
"He's null-aligned," he said. "There's no doubt anymore. But he's not like the others."
Lady Serynne turned to him. "Then what is he? "
A beat of silence.
"A system orphan," he said. "One the Grid cannot read, but which still touches the lattice. Like a shadow pressed against glass. We've seen this before."
"Not since the Cauterization Protocol," Veylan snapped.
Another ripple ran through the aether mirror.
This time, it wasn't caused by Kaelen.
It was Marek.Another ripple ran through the aether mirror.
This time, it wasn't caused by Kaelen.
It was Marek.
For just a moment, a flicker of energy spiraled from his hand, a jagged, inverted glyph. Unstable. Untranslated. The mirror pulsed red at the edges.
Magister Olwen stepped forward, face pale.
"That's not a registered sigil."
"It's pre-Grid," someone whispered.
Another voice, colder, older than the others, spoke from the shadows behind the thirteenth chair.
"It's anti-Grid."
Everyone turned.
The hooded figure stepped into the circle, face obscured by layers of enchantment. Voice warped, genderless. Presence undeniable.
"The boy is not an anomaly. He is a breach. A hole in the structure we built."
Lady Serynne's glass cracked in her hand.
"Then he must be neutralized."
"No," said the hooded figure. "Not yet."
"You would have us wait while he destabilizes the academy?"
"I would have us watch. Because if this one can resist the Grid… there may be others. And if there are others…"
The figure raised a single gloved hand toward the mirror.
Marek had just stepped forward. Calm. Controlled. Radiating something wrong.
"Then everything we've buried will begin to rise again."
Decree from the Hidden Councilor:
The boy will not be eliminated.
He will be allowed to progress.
Containment will be handled internally.
Surveillance priority: Tier One.
All prior records of Nulls are to be restricted further.
Should he exhibit a full Glyph Event… initiate Protocol Nullfire.
(Back above)
The crowd roared as Marek's staff clashed with Kaelen's enchanted blade, wood against steel, light against void.
Below, twelve Councilors remained still.
The thirteenth did not speak again.