CHAPTER 301: FINALE (3)

For a heartbeat, Morgana didn’t move. Her eyes sharpened slightly, the faintest trace of recognition flickering there. Then she sighed, almost inaudibly, and turned to the wreckage.

"Invoke’s chairman," she murmured. "Of course."

Elara’s brow furrowed. "You know him?"

"Everyone does," Morgana said simply. "But few know what he actually does. The board is a nest of secrets, and Kael’s the kind of man who makes sure none of them ever crawl out."

She turned her gaze back to Merlin. "You shouldn’t have gone alone."

"I wasn’t alone," he said.

Her eyes flicked to Elara, then back to him. "You shouldn’t have gone at all."

That landed.

Merlin’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.

Morgana studied him for a moment longer, then glanced at the ruins again. "You’re lucky to be alive. The mana residue in that explosion wasn’t natural, it was engineered."

"Engineered?" Elara repeated.

"Yes. Layered frequencies, coded pulses... something beyond affinity manipulation." Morgana’s tone grew sharper. "He’s experimenting with artificial resonance. If he perfects that, it could destabilize how affinity itself functions."

Merlin’s stomach turned. "You mean—"

"I mean he’s trying to rewrite the rules."

The air went still.

Elara looked between them, then exhaled slowly. "So that’s what this was about. He wanted to see if Merlin could survive it."

Morgana nodded faintly. "Or if he could copy it."

The implication hit like a blow.

Merlin’s power wasn’t just rare, it was impossible by the world’s natural logic. Multiple affinities, unified at a level no scholar or mage had ever achieved. If Kael could replicate that through technology...

He’d reshape everything.

Morgana seemed to read the thought from his face. "You’re not just a target anymore, Everhart. You’re a formula."

Her words cut colder than the wind.

Merlin’s gaze dropped to his hands. The faint hum of power beneath his skin, once something that comforted him, now felt exposed. Like it wasn’t his anymore.

Elara reached out subtly, her hand brushing his sleeve. It was a small gesture, but grounding. Real.

Morgana noticed but didn’t comment.

Instead, she turned back toward the rubble. "We’ll handle the cleanup. The public version of this story will say it was a containment accident. You two are going back to the academy. Effective immediately."

Merlin looked up. "You’re hiding it?"

"I’m preventing a panic," she said simply. "If the academy becomes a battlefield of speculation, we lose more than reputation. We lose stability."

Elara nodded. "Understood."

Morgana’s eyes lingered on Merlin one last time. "You’ve always drawn storms, Everhart. I suggest you learn how to stay dry."

Then she walked away, the faint crackle of mana in her wake like the hiss of a dying flame.

—

The ride back to the academy was silent.

Elara sat beside him in the carriage, her head tilted slightly against the window. The city rolled past in blurred color, glass, smoke, and spires. Merlin’s reflection stared back at him in the glass: tired eyes, faint shadows under them, jaw still tense.

"You’re quiet," Elara said finally.

He glanced at her. "So are you."

"Because I’m thinking."

"About Kael?"

She shook her head. "About you."

That caught him off guard. "Me?"

"You look... off," she said simply. "Not just angry. Confused."

He hesitated. "...He said something."

Elara waited.

"He said I don’t fit the mold."

"Because you don’t."

He looked at her, startled, but she wasn’t teasing. Her tone was matter-of-fact, eyes steady.

"You’ve never fit," she continued. "Not in the academy, not in the world. You do things no one else can. You think differently. You are different. But that’s what makes you..." she hesitated, the word soft "...you."

For a moment, he couldn’t find anything to say.

Elara turned back to the window, her voice low. "Don’t let him take that from you."

The rest of the ride passed in quiet.

When they reached the academy gates, the dawn had fully broken. Students were already out on the grounds, whispering about the explosion, rumors spreading faster than fire.

Morgana’s containment plan hadn’t worked perfectly. Nothing ever did.

As Merlin stepped out of the carriage, Elara looked at him again. "You’re going to keep chasing him, aren’t you?"

He met her eyes. "You already know the answer."

She sighed softly. "Then I’ll keep up."

He smiled faintly, a rare, tired, real smile. "You always do."

They walked through the gates together.

Above them, the morning bells rang, clear, bright, indifferent.

As if the world hadn’t just shifted beneath their feet.

By the time Merlin reached the Headmistress’s office, the sky had turned to amber.

The glass dome above the central tower shimmered faintly with runic wards, old ones, engraved into the very stone of the academy itself. Protection from intrusion, illusion, interference.

He could feel the hum of them as the door opened.

Morgana stood near the window, arms folded behind her back, gaze fixed on the city’s horizon.

Even from here, the faint column of smoke from the destroyed warehouse could still be seen, a gray scar against the light.

"Close the door," she said quietly.

Merlin did.

For a moment, neither spoke. The room was still except for the low crackle of the enchanted fireplace.

Then Morgana finally turned around.

Her expression wasn’t angry. Not exactly. It was sharper than that, weary, but measured. Like someone balancing the edge between mentor and commander.

"You shouldn’t have gone," she began, voice even. "But since you did, I want every detail. From the moment you received that call."

Merlin nodded and told her everything.

The summons. The meeting. Kael’s calm demeanor. The prototype weapon. The mana pulse. The explosion.

He left out one thing, the flicker of instinct that had warned him seconds before the blast, the strange feeling that something beyond this world had resonated with his core. That, he couldn’t explain.

Morgana listened in silence, pacing slowly as he spoke. When he finished, she stopped by the desk and leaned against it.

"Adrian Kael has been moving under the radar for years," she said. "But this confirms what I feared. He’s not just making weapons, he’s studying people. Or rather..." her gaze met his, silver and cold, "...people like you."