Octavia Blake was, by all accounts, an ordinary cadet. A young woman meant for the back rows, not the blood-soaked frontlines. She had no glory to her name, no remarkable duels or training victories. Her practice rounds were marked by hesitation. Worse she was timid. Without explicit orders, she froze, paralyzed by the weight of possibilities.

For Kael Vi-rel, however, timidity was not weakness. It was potential. It was clay waiting to be molded.

(If I can push her just a little, gain her trust, maybe even awaken the latent spark I sensed in her… she could become something useful. A long-range asset devoted to me alone. The effort is minimal. The reward? Worth every ounce of theater.)

He clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture, his lower lip trembling faintly, the very picture of a desperate young leader on the edge of collapse. "Please. Please.Pretty please," he begged, voice cracking with just enough fragility to sound real. The mask was flawless calibrated to pierce Octavia Blake's buried yearning to matter, to be a hero.

Octavia Blake's eyes darted nervously. She couldn't meet his gaze, staring instead at his clasped hands. "T-that's… quite a task, Kael Vi-rel. And I… I don't have much experience in situations like this." The confession bled out of her in a whisper, shame trailing each syllable while the world outside howled with fire and steel.

"You don't need to fight head-on," Kael Vi-rel soothed, lowering his tone to something gentle, almost intimate. "All I need is defense. Position yourself, cover my back. One arrow, one shot that's all. Please, please, just help me hold this line."

Her lips parted, then closed again. Silence stretched, filled with the distant shattering of glass and echoing battle cries. Kael Vi-rel timed the pause, then struck.

He sighed, heavy with defeat, and turned away. "Well… it looks like we're all going to die here today." His voice carried the hollow resignation of someone surrendering to fate. He walked three steps, then glanced back, eyes laden with sorrow. "I'll hold that flank alone. If I fall…" His hand pressed dramatically to his chest. "…please tell my family I died bravely."

Octavia Blake's breath hitched. The thought of Kael Vi-relthe one calm center in this storm falling alone snapped something inside her. "W-wait!" she cried, biting her lip so hard she tasted copper. "If it's just covering you… then I'll do it. I will."

Kael Vi-rel spun back, despair vanishing in an instant, replaced by a boyish grin of triumph. "Really? You're a lifesaver, Octavia Blake!"

Her cheeks flushed pink, part adrenaline, part shy pride. She adjusted the quiver on her back. "Y-yes. I'll try my best."

"Finally!" Kael Vi-rel all but pumped his fist. "That's the spirit! No more wasting time we move."

She nodded, her voice steadier now.

"L-let's go."

"Quickly there is no time to waste here anynoee."

---

On the other side of the academy, in the grand hall where the council had been meeting, a shimmering wall of cyan energy cut the instructors off from the world. It pulsed like a heartbeat, a barrier not of defense but of containment.

"Mrs. Seraphina Dusk," Ronan Wolfe growled, his voice carrying the sharp edge of restrained fury. "Can you break it? We need to reach the students before it will be too late."

Seraphina Dusk pressed her palm against the wall. The oily glow thrummed under her touch, vibrating against the very stone. Her silver hair clung to her damp cheek as she closed her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was low and grim. "Oh, Ronan Wolfe… this barrier wasn't made to keep enemies out. It was made to keep us in."

The words landed like a hammer-blow.

She continued, tone heavy with realization. "It blocks all frequencies. Nothing in, nothing out. Whoever set this knew exactly when to strike when every protector of the academy would be trapped here together. This was no coincidence. It was betrayal."

Ronan Wolfe's fists clenched until the joints popped. "Then the intruders came for something specific. Or someone." His eyes darkened. "One of the cadets… or an artifact."

"That troubles me most," Seraphina Dusk admitted. "But to answer your question no, I cannot dismantle this quickly. Even if all of us poured our strength together, it would take eleven hours of continuous effort. And the battle outside…" She shook her head. "It will be over in one."

"Eleven hours?" Ronan Wolfe barked, his composure cracking. "We don't have eleven minutes."

The other instructors shifted, silent, powerless.

Seraphina Dusk hesitated, then confessed the truth. "The only alternative would be brute force. Not precision, not control. Every ounce of power we have, concentrated into one devastating strike. Dangerous. Wild. It could backfire. But it might be the only way."

Ronan Wolfe glared at his reflection in the barrier's surface, warped and ghostlike. "Brute force… or nothing." His jaw tightened. "Fine. Then we gamble. Because if we stay here, the academy will burn to ash before we draw another breath."

--

Meanwhile, Kael Vi-rel led Octavia Blake through the dim service passages toward the eastern observation spire. His movements were quiet, sharp, honed. Hers were hurried, full of nervous glances at every shifting shadow. Yet Kael Vi-rel noticed the subtle change: her bow hand trembled less. Her grip had shifted from nervous clutching into deliberate possession.

(Fear is the best weapon to sharpen focus, he thought coldly. By the time she realizes it, her growth will already serve my plan.)

"One step at a time, Octavia Blake," he murmured, voice carrying the weight of assurance. "Just reach the roof. The whole fight hinges on your shot."

She nodded, swallowing her nerves, driven forward by his conviction.

Together, they climbed into the shadows of the spire, unaware that in the council hall, the instructors counted hours they did not have. Eleven hours to break the barrier yet Kael Vi-rel already knew the clock would shatter long before the final bell ever struck.

And above them all, the academy burned.

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