For days after the Light Guardian's latest triumph, an uneasy peace blanketed the academy and its allied networks. On the surface, success was everywhere: students and masters flourished, breakthroughs emerged at a dizzying pace, and the threat of open targeting from the families or the Council seemed distant—almost defeated.
But behind the scenes, the game had changed.
Deep in the stone vaults of the Continental Intelligence Council, Director Malthorn presided over a secret gathering, joined by a handful of agents whose faces were known only to the most senior of the major families.
The air in the chamber was thick not just with tension, but with the faint scent of desperation—one that lingered in institutions who felt power slipping from their grasp.
"Let's be clear," muttered Lady Frostborn, her voice icy as her family's northern seat,
