A dim chamber.

A hooded figure.

A lattice of runes.

Red-tinted mana twisting in spirals.

And a single glowing sigil resembling an eye—

Watching him.

Elara gasped. "Was that—?"

"Yes," Merlin said through gritted teeth. "Their relay."

He pushed harder, forcing his mana into the collapsing sigil, not to destroy it, but to leave a counter-mark. A beacon. Something far more potent and invasive than anything the Cabal expected.

The hooded figure jerked back in shock within the brief vision.

They hadn't expected contact.

Or resistance.

And certainly not retaliation.

The anchor finally shattered, dissolving into shadowed dust that evaporated in the sunlight. The air cleared instantly, the strange warped sensation dissipating as though a veil had lifted.

Silence fell across the courtyard.

Nathan stepped forward cautiously. "Merlin… what did you do?"

Merlin slowly stood, golden and silver mana dimming around his arm. "I locked onto them. The one who set this up. They can hide behind illusions, barriers, distortions—doesn't matter. The mark I left will undermine any technique they use. They can't erase it. They can't cover it. And they can't run from it."

"Then we're going after them," Elara said immediately, her eyes fierce.

"We will," Merlin replied. "But not blindly. They'll panic now. They'll move. And their movements will expose the other members. The Cabal just made a mistake. A huge one."

Dorian's smile was thin and dangerous. "Good. I've been bored."

Liliana shuddered nervously. "I haven't. But… I'll help."

Adrian grinned. "Always."

Sera's ice shimmered like a promise. "Count me in."

Ethan sighed deeply. "I hate this. But fine."

Nathan stepped beside Merlin, determined. "Whatever you're planning, I'm with you. And this time, you're not going anywhere alone."

Merlin looked at all of them—friends, allies, the group who should have remained side characters in a story he already knew the outcome of. But now the story was changing, weaving new paths, drawing danger earlier than it should have arrived.

And he felt strangely… relieved.

Because now he wasn't facing it with foreknowledge alone.

He had them.

"Then let's begin," Merlin said quietly. "The Cabal left a thread. I'm pulling it. And we follow wherever it leads."

The group straightened.

Somewhere deep within the academy's hidden corridors, a hooded figure froze as a glowing counter-mark flared across their palm—a mark they did not understand.

And could not remove.

The air inside the courtyard settled into something deceptively calm, but every student felt the tension humming beneath Merlin's words. The subtle weight of the anchor's collapse lingered—like the ghost of a storm that had passed but not truly ended.

They gathered around him instinctively now, not by training or command, but because every one of them understood that something significant had just shifted. The Cabal wasn't some distant threat on the fringes of their world anymore.

They were here.

Inside the academy's walls.

Watching.

And Merlin had just grabbed one of them by the throat.

Dorian's voice broke the silence first. "Where does the thread lead?"

Merlin exhaled slowly, letting his senses settle. Even without reaching outward, he could feel it—like a thin strand snagged on the edge of his mana. Faint, evasive, slippery, but impossibly anchored to him now that he'd marked its source.

"It's not a physical location," he said. "Not immediately. They're moving, trying to hide the relay behind layers of distortions. But those distortions are unraveling every time they try to reinforce them."

Sera crossed her arms. "Meaning…?"

"Meaning they'll panic." Merlin's eyes hardened. "And they'll make mistakes."

Ethan massaged his temple. "People who use shadow-illusions and forbidden bindings—panicking. Wonderful. Very safe."

Elara ignored him, stepping closer to Merlin so she could see his expression clearly. "How long until you can pinpoint them?"

Merlin paused before answering.

The thread tugged at him. Once. Twice. Like nervous fingers pulling at a frayed rope. He pushed a sliver of mana through the beacon he placed earlier, watched the backlash of the Cabal's resistance flare in response, and traced the direction of the recoil.

"They're heading underground," he murmured. "Not the academy basement. Deeper."

Nathan stiffened. "The old maintenance tunnels?"

"No," Merlin said. "Even deeper. Beneath those. There's a forgotten substructure the academy sealed off decades ago. It used to be part of the original foundation before expansions were built over it."

Liliana looked horrified. "They're hiding under the school?!"

"They've been hiding here for a while," Merlin corrected. "We're just finally aware of it."

Elara's fingers brushed her spear. "Do we chase them now?"

Merlin shook his head.

Not yet.

If they rushed—they would walk into the Cabal's preferred terrain. Enclosed spaces. Illusion-heavy zones. Areas where they could force separations and manipulate perceptions.

"If we go in now, they'll scatter," Merlin said. "And we'll lose all of them. Worse, we could trigger their contingency spells."

Dorian nodded grimly. "He's right. Cabal members always have an escape kill-switch. Their illusions implode and collapse everything around them."

Nathan ran a hand through his black hair. "Then what's the plan?"

Merlin lifted his head.

"We wait."

Ethan stared at him, bewildered. "Wait? Wait for what? For them to murder someone? For them to—"

"No," Merlin said quietly. "We wait because the thread I placed on their member is already spreading."

Confusion flickered across several faces.

Merlin explained, "When they fled the anchor relay, they touched one another. Passed items. Activated spells. All of those moments strengthen the connection. My mark is seeping into their network—a disturbance they'll try to fight off. And in trying, they'll expose every member connected to the relay."

Liliana's eyes widened. "So… you'll map the Cabal?"

"Yes," Merlin said. "Every person linked to the relay thread will show up once the connection stabilizes."

"And when that happens?" Elara asked.

"When that happens," Merlin said, voice steady, "we don't chase one rat."

His eyes glinted with something cold.

"We'll get the entire nest."

Adrian let out a low whistle. "That's one way to handle it."

Sera gave a thin smile. "Efficient."

Nathan nodded, determination mounting. "So we prepare until the trace completes?"

"We prepare," Merlin confirmed. "All of us. Because when the Cabal realizes they're being cornered, they'll lash out. Hard."

Elara stepped closer, meeting his gaze directly. "We'll be ready."

Her voice was calm. Certain. The others seemed to draw strength from it.

They all dispersed slowly—back toward the dorm buildings and training halls—but in no particular order. They stayed in pairs or trios, never leaving one another alone, the gravity of the situation pulling them tighter as a group.

The academy was bright in the late afternoon light, but this time, the brightness felt artificial, like a thin cloth failing to hide the shadows layering beneath.

Merlin waited until the last of them walked ahead.

Only then did he let out the breath he'd held since the anchor's collapse.

The thread in his mana pulsed again—faint, desperate, frantic. The Cabal was scrambling, unraveling their own networks in a frenzy. It would take hours, maybe a full day, before the map completed.

But when it did…

Merlin cracked his knuckles slowly, golden-silver mana rolling over his skin in quiet arcs.

"They won't escape this time," he whispered.

He turned toward the dorms.

The sun hung low, sharp against the horizon, casting long shadows across the courtyard tiles. For the first time since entering the simulation, the academy felt real again.

But Merlin knew the truth.

Something deeper was waiting beneath them.

And he was going to tear it open.

The academy felt strangely peaceful the morning after the simulation incident.

It shouldn't have.

Not after the Umbershade Cabal had hijacked school infrastructure right under the faculty's nose.

Not after Merlin had dragged half the class through wild, half-corrupted illusions.

Not after the instructors had gone immediately into lockdown procedures the moment they found Hale unconscious beside the array core.

And yet…

The sun rose like nothing had happened.

Students flooded the courtyard as if the past twenty-four hours weren't a reminder of how fragile the academy's defenses truly were.

Maybe that was the point.

People wanted normalcy—especially when normalcy was the only shield they had.

Merlin arrived with Nathan and Elara on each side, both glancing around more often than usual. Elara's fingers occasionally brushed the hilt of her spear, while Nathan's eyes flicked from rooftop to rooftop as if enemy mages would pop out any second.

"You're both making me more nervous just by existing," Merlin murmured.

Elara's eyes narrowed slightly. "We're being cautious. You should be too."

"I am cautious," he said.

Nathan snorted. "You? Cautious? You're the guy who runs into exploding illusions because you 'feel something weird in the air.'"

"That was totally justified," Merlin answered.

"It exploded," Nathan reminded him.

Elara spoke softly, "He's right, Merlin. I'm still upset you didn't let me take the front line that time."

Merlin blinked. "You were literally pinned by a shadow wolf."

"That's not the point."

He huffed a quiet laugh, and for the first time since the simulation, the tension around the three of them eased.

They crossed the courtyard and headed toward their first class: Mana Resonance Dynamics, a notoriously difficult second-year course.