The academy was awake.

Boots clattered on stone. Laughter echoed through corridors. The great bell rang slow, measured, marking the change of hour.

Merlin moved through it all with his cloak drawn close, his steps quiet. His body remembered the rhythm of this place, but something inside him dragged against it.

Too still.

Too perfect.

He slowed, eyes shifting to the nearest group of students. Three of them sat beneath an arch, sharing bread from a paper parcel. One laughed, head thrown back. Another shoved him in mock irritation. Crumbs spilled.

Then the first boy laughed again, same pitch, same tilt of his head, same spilled crumbs.

Merlin stopped walking.

The bread fell the same way it had a breath before.

No one else reacted.

The third boy grabbed a slice, tore it in half, handed it over. His lips moved in idle chatter, but the sound was just… noise. A low hum, stripped of meaning, like the buzz of insects in tall grass.

Merlin's hand brushed the wall at his side. Cold. Too cold. Stone that should've been warmed by morning sun pressed like ice against his fingertips.

'Wrong.'

His jaw clenched. He pulled his hand back, forcing himself forward again.

The courtyard opened wide before him, sky sharp and cloudless. Nathan's voice cut through the emptiness from behind.

"Merlin! You're walking like you've got weights on your ankles."

Merlin turned.

Nathan strode up, sword strapped to his back, grin crooked like always. Elara was at his side, braid falling over her shoulder, eyes narrowed as if she'd been scolding him a moment before.

Too familiar. Too sharp.

They fit together like pieces of a painting, colors bold, edges defined.

Merlin's throat tightened.

'Where are the rest?'

His pulse beat hard in his ears.

Adrian's laugh, bright, unshakable. Liliana's graceful posture, hiding the fire that lived in her spine. Ethan, eyes dull with boredom, tossing off dry remarks. Seraphina, blade always angled with precision, words clipped, precise. Dorian's pale hair, crimson eyes that froze whatever they touched.

Reinhardt's heavy steps, the weight of his correction when Merlin's grip faltered. Sophia's chalk scratching runes into stone, patient voice cutting through frustration. Vivienne's fire catching the edge of her sleeve as she barked at lazy students.

He hadn't seen them. Not once.

Not since the labyrinth.

The realization struck like a blade sliding in beneath his ribs.

'No. They're here. They have to be here.'

Nathan's grin wavered. "You're staring again. What's wrong?"

Merlin forced his lips into something like a smile. "Nothing."

But his gut churned.

'Nothing doesn't feel like this.'

They crossed the courtyard together. Students trained with wooden blades. The clash of strikes rang sharp. Yet when Merlin let his gaze linger, the strikes repeated. The same swing, the same parry. Over and over, like lines in a script.

He turned his head. The wall to the east trembled.

No, rippled.

For an instant, the stone dissolved into nothing. Just… blank space. Black.

Then it was stone again.

Merlin froze mid-step. His breath caught.

Neither Nathan nor Elara noticed.

"Elara," Nathan muttered, dragging his hand through his hair. "Tell him I'm not imagining things, he's been acting—"

"Strange," Elara cut in, eyes locked on Merlin.

Her gaze sharpened, but not at the wall. Not at the ripple. At him. Only him.

Merlin swallowed hard.

'Why can't they see it?'

The air pressed heavy against his chest. His system should've flared. Warnings. Analysis. But his vision stayed clear. Empty.

Silent.

Too silent.

They reached the practice ground. Nathan stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders, grinning as though nothing cracked in the world around him. "Come on. Let's spar. First to land three clean hits."

Merlin didn't move.

He was still staring at the wall. Still waiting for it to ripple again.

Elara's voice cut sharp. "Merlin."

His head turned slow.

Her expression was guarded, suspicion heavy in her eyes. She studied him the way a hawk studies prey before the dive.

Merlin's throat worked. He forced his lips to part. "Where's Adrian?"

Nathan blinked. "Adrian? What do you mean?"

Merlin's chest tightened. "Where is he. Liliana. Ethan. Seraphina. Dorian. Reinhardt. Sophia. Vivienne." His voice cracked like glass. "Where are they?"

Nathan frowned. "They're around. Training. You'll see them later."

Merlin's stomach dropped.

Elara said nothing. She just watched him.

Merlin turned his gaze away, caught sight of a passing student. A boy with a bundle of spears clutched in his arms.

Merlin stepped forward, cutting across his path. "You. Where's Adrian Kain?"

The boy stopped. His eyes flicked to Merlin's face. His lips opened.

Noise spilled out. Flat. Broken.

"…Adrian… Adrian… training. Training. With—" His head twitched. "—with Liliana. Liliana."

Merlin's blood ran cold.

The boy blinked once, then walked past, expression blank.

Nathan laughed awkwardly. "Okay, that was weird. Don't worry about him. You've been through a lot, Merlin. Maybe you just need—"

Merlin's fist clenched so tight his knuckles cracked.

'Actors. They're all actors.'

He turned his eyes skyward. The sun burned white, too bright. Too clean.

He let the words fall out, low, sharp. "You're watching, aren't you?"

The courtyard stilled.

The air thickened, pressing down. Torches lining the walls flickered, flames bending sideways as if pulled by unseen hands.

Nathan frowned. "Merlin—who are you talking to?"

Merlin's lips curled, bitter. His voice rose. "This stage. These people. This silence. You didn't even bother filling in the rest, did you?"

The torches flared.

Stone trembled beneath their feet.

Elara flinched, head whipping toward the walls. But Nathan stood still, confusion written clear across his face.

Merlin raised his voice, the sound cutting through the heavy air. "Pathetic. If you're going to test me, at least do it properly. Not with this—" He gestured wide, hands shaking. "—this puppet show."

The silence that followed was worse than the noise.

Then it came.

Laughter.

Not one voice. Many. Layered. Shifting. Male, female, deep, shrill. A chorus that scraped against his skull like nails across glass.

The air split. Whispers crawled through the cracks, pressing against his ears.

"…He noticed…"

"…Sharp one, isn't he?…"

"…I told you he wouldn't play along forever…"

Nathan grabbed his shoulder. "Merlin! What the hell's going on?"

Merlin didn't answer. His gaze burned upward, to the sky that wasn't sky.

His vision pulsed.

[Warning: Direct Communication With Audience Initiated]

[Caution: Excessive Provocation May Alter Simulation Stability]

Merlin bared his teeth, a sound low in his throat. "Then let it break."

The ground cracked beneath his boots. Jagged lines spiderwebbed outward. The courtyard wall shuddered, peeling like paper to reveal endless black.

Elara shouted his name. Distant. Muffled. Like she was already fading.

The voices overlapped again, laughter twisted into jeers, into hisses, into something too large to name.

Merlin clenched his fists. The system pulsed once more, faint, like a heartbeat.

[Simulation Integrity: 92%… 89%… 81%…]

The world buckled.

Merlin's jaw set. His words cut through the chaos, sharp as steel.

"Fine. If you want me to play…"

His boots dug into cracking stone.

"…then let's play."

—

The courtyard cracked.

Stone bled into nothing. Torches stretched thin, light unraveling into strands before snapping. The academy dissolved piece by piece, like wet paint dripping from glass.

Merlin stood in the center of it, boots scraping air that was no longer ground. Around him, Nathan's grin froze mid-smile, Elara's violet eyes dimmed like lanterns going out. Their faces broke into white static and vanished.

Silence pressed in.

Only Merlin remained.

Then the weight hit him.

His chest heaved, lungs dragging for air that wasn't there. Every muscle clenched, dragging him downward. He dropped to one knee, sword clattering.

A sound in his skull.

[Simulation privileges revoked.]

[Host's physical parameters adjusted to natural capacity.]

[Warning: Severe reduction detected.]

Merlin's fingers dug into the void beneath him. Cold. Heavy. Too heavy.

'What…'

He pushed, veins bulging in his arms. Stood, barely.

The sharp clarity that had carried him through the gate arc, that searing speed, that unreachable sharpness, gone. He swung his arm once. The movement dragged like rusted gears.

Sword scraped back into his hand. He slashed. The arc of steel cut slow, predictable. Weak.

Five stars. Six, at best.

His jaw tightened until teeth ground.

'So this is it. My real body.'

No god answered.

Only a ripple in the void.

[The Audience murmurs at the discovery.]

[The Messenger is amused.]

[The Arbiter takes note.]

Merlin spat onto the ground, or into what pretended to be ground. The spit vanished before landing.

"Enjoying the show?" His voice echoed, hollow. "All this theater just to remind me I'm a toy?"

[The Trickster laughs.]

[Several Observers jeer.]

Laughter threaded around him, layered, inhuman. Not words. Not voices. Just the tone of an audience entertained.

Merlin's hand shook around his blade. He remembered the labyrinth's weight, the war's blood. Rathan's memories seared into him. The slaughter, the gods crushed like insects beneath his heel. And now… this.

Weakened. Displayed.

'Pathetic.'

The void rippled.

Shapes formed.

First came Adrian. Blonde hair, axe in hand, smile carved from sunlight. Except the eyes, empty pits. Then Liliana, elegant posture, skirt flowing, but face blurred, mouth twitching in repeat. Ethan's bored slouch, but jaw broken sideways. Seraphina's silver eyes, bleeding from their sockets. Dorian, pale, jagged teeth gnashing.

Not them. Shadows.

Merlin's grip tightened.

One by one, they turned toward him.