The cloaked man walked the marble halls of the academy like a shadow in sunlight.
He didn't wear Tower robes, but the way people parted in front of him said enough. Officials didn't question him. Students avoided his gaze. Even professors paused to bow.
Not because they recognized his face.But because they felt it—the subtle hum in the air, the distortion that followed him like a second pulse.
A glyph-hunter. A Listener.
The man reached the headmaster's private office, where a pale secretary trembled behind a desk.
"I have an appointment," he said without raising his voice.
The woman nodded too quickly. "Of… of course. Yes. The Headmaster is waiting."
He entered.
Headmaster Riven stood at the balcony, robes clasped behind him. His face was older than rumor suggested, with deep lines cut by years of stress—and secrets.
"You didn't announce your arrival," Riven said flatly.
"Would that have changed anything?"
"No." Riven sighed and turned. "You're early. The anomaly hasn't shown more than a few irregular flares—"
"It has," the Listener interrupted. "You've simply stopped reporting them."
Silence.
He stepped forward, and the glyph embedded in his palm shimmered. It wasn't like Kaelen's or Selene's. No color, no flame. Just a perfect black circle, like a hole in the world.
"I traced the distortion back two weeks," he continued. "Two sudden flare events, one in the dueling ward, one in the lower archives."
Riven swallowed. "Students experiment. Talents spike under pressure."
"Not this kind of pressure," the Listener said. "These aren't ascents. They're echoes."
"Echoes?"
"Of something older. Something we sealed." The man paused. "Have you forgotten what Veritas magic feels like?"
Riven stiffened. "That's impossible. The Veritas line was extinguished before the Tower rose."
"Or so the Tower claims."
Another silence, heavier this time.
The Listener walked to the shelf, running a gloved finger along the edge of an untouched book. "If I don't find the source myself, they'll send a full Circle detachment next."
Riven's jaw clenched. "Give me time."
"You have three days," the Listener said, already turning toward the door. "If it truly is nothing, you'll hear nothing more. But if it's what I think it is…"
He paused at the doorway. "Containment will no longer be optional."
—
Across the campus, Kaelen stood in the training hall, unaware of the storm on its way.
He could still feel the ache of last night—Seraphine's words, her hurt.
But he didn't have time to dwell. Every glyph in his body felt… heavier. As if the world itself was beginning to press back.
Selene watched from across the chamber. Her eyes met his briefly, then looked away.
And above them, in the observatory spire, Mira adjusted the lens on her crystal scribe.
She whispered, "They've sent a Listener…"
And far below the spire, the wards trembled.
Something was coming.
[End Chapter 40]