The courtyard still buzzed with the echo of Magnus's construct fading into shadow. The alloy floor bore its scar — a clean, unbroken groove carved by the bladed wing. It was proof.
Magnus's chest heaved, sweat dripping down his chin, but his eyes shone. For once, he wasn't shadowed by Redmond. He had carved something of his own.
Whispers rose around them, sharper this time, heavier.
"If… if even Magnus could…"
"Redmond's words… they weren't just advice, they were a path."
"He said refine… terraform… then showed it. Crimson constructs of fire, water, lightning, ice…"
One student bit his lip, then dropped to the ground, sketching his Origin lattice into the alloy with his fingertip, muttering feverishly.
Another closed her eyes, trying to push her Emitter sparks into different shapes.
A third slammed his palm to the slab, desperate to test if he could bind his faltering energy with shadow like Magnus had.
The courtyard shifted from passive awe to restless hunger. Students all around began experimenting, their Origin Talents flaring in uneven bursts. Sparks of ice, flickers of flame, shards of light — all unstable, all unrefined, but desperate to echo what they'd just seen.
Even Kael Stroud, usually loud with bravado, was uncharacteristically silent. His fists clenched tight as he whispered to himself, "If Magnus can… then I'll damn well do it too."
Selene's sharp eyes narrowed, catching the fever taking hold of the others. She murmured to Tiran, "This… is dangerous. They're not refining, they're rushing. But…" She glanced at Redmond, who stood calmly, his vermilion energy reshaping once more. "I can't deny it. His words are… infectious."
Above them, the Supremacy Seven leaned closer.
Sera Valen smirked. "A single spark, and the whole flock catches fire."
Drake Holloway's laughter boomed. "About time these hatchlings acted like Supremacy's watching!"
Lyra Veylan's starlight gaze flickered toward Redmond. "…He doesn't even realize he's started this."
Up in the gallery, Dean Ward's expression tightened.
"This isn't mere growth. It's contagion. A single boy alters the academy's rhythm."
Commander Locke folded his arms, grinning. "Then maybe it's what we needed. Growth through pressure, not just doctrine."
Ward's gaze lingered on Redmond, his tone dropping.
"No… it's too soon. Influence like this could fracture order. If every cadet rushes toward him as a beacon—"
Elira's words from the council chamber echoed in his memory, unbidden: The future never waits politely, Elias. It moves when someone pushes it.
The dean's jaw clenched. "We'll be watching this closely."
Down below, Redmond exhaled, rolling his shoulders. His vermilion energy pulsed again, shifting shape — this time a crystalline spear, fractal and alive, gleaming like frozen lightning.
The courtyard fell silent once more.
Even those caught in their feverish attempts stopped to stare.
The living crimson energy wasn't just power. It was a reminder. A challenge.
Magnus clenched his fist, fire in his chest. I won't be left behind again.
The others thought the same, though none dared voice it.
In that moment, Redmond had unknowingly transformed the academy: not by command, not by teaching, but by existing. His presence alone had lit a fire none of them could ignore.
---
The courtyard was still scarred from Redmond's display. Where his crimson energy had flared into forms no one had ever seen — fire, lightning, ice, crystal, all shifting like a living organism — the air seemed to hum with aftershocks.
Magnus Nox D'ark sat in meditation, his hands trembling faintly as a lattice of black-and-silver light coiled around him, his Origin reshaping itself into something unmistakably Nox-born. The crowd that had gathered earlier hadn't dispersed quietly; whispers traveled faster than the academy's drones.
"Even Magnus grew from it…"
"Redmond just said a few words, and he advanced."
"What if his advice could trigger my Awakening too?"
By evening, half the academy's students were attempting reckless experiments with their energy flow, trying to reshape their Origin without proper guidance.
---
Aurelius Academy – War Council Chamber
The mentors gathered that same night. The chamber's walls shimmered with suspended holo-screens, each showing a different courtyard, training hall, or cadet group under surveillance.
Dean Elias Ward stood at the center, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze colder than the starlight outside the dome.
> Dean Ward: "Chaos. That's what it looks like. Redmond Luxifel utters a few words, and suddenly every cadet thinks they've uncovered the path to transcendence."
Commander Locke leaned forward, scars across his cheek catching the dim light.
> Locke: "You call it chaos, I call it hunger. The boy struck a spark. Now the weak can't sit still. Let them chase it — only the strong will refine something from it."
Professor Ava Stroud cut in sharply, her voice carrying the precision of a scalpel.
> Ava: "And when half of them collapse their Origin Lattices from overstrain? When one of them tears a core vein and bleeds energy until their body cracks? This isn't hunger, Locke, it's recklessness. I've already had to sedate three students tonight alone."
Cassian Holt, the medic, sighed and rubbed his temples.
> Cassian: "I confirm it. The infirmary's crowded. They're tearing themselves apart because they think a single phrase from Redmond will rewrite their fate. I can't mend stupidity if it spreads faster than my medkits."
Grant Avery leaned back in his chair with a smirk, his tone mocking but edged with interest.
> Grant: "Or maybe you can't keep up, old man. Did it ever occur to you that Redmond's… demonstration is exactly what this academy needs? For years they've trained under routine drills. Now? They've seen possibility. Fear, envy, inspiration — all of it is fuel."
Ava snapped at him.
> Ava: "You'd risk the collapse of a generation just to chase spectacle?"
Grant shrugged.
> Grant: "I'd risk stagnation over slow decay any day."
Dean Ward raised a hand, silencing the argument. His eyes lingered on the largest holo-screen — replaying Redmond forming crimson constructs that shifted endlessly, alive in their constant transformation.
> Ward: "Enough. This incident cannot be ignored. Redmond Luxifel is no ordinary cadet — and every Supremacy Holder has already noticed it. That alone changes the academy's balance of power."
---
The Tournament Looms
At that, Locke leaned back, folding his arms.
> Locke: "Speaking of which… the Supremacy Holder Tournament begins in less than three cycles. You know what that means. The Seven won't tolerate anyone stealing the academy's spotlight before the tournament."
Grant chuckled darkly.
> Grant: "Imagine it. A Luxifel boy drawing every pair of eyes before the games even start. The Seven will either crush him in public… or they'll try to test him privately first."
Cassian frowned.
> Cassian: "The tournament is brutal enough. Not all cadets survive the final trial. If Redmond draws attention now, they'll raise the difficulty just to prove a point."
Professor Ava exhaled sharply.
> Ava: "Rumors already circulate. This year's tournament may feature Rift-borne constructs in the final stages. Simulations that mimic Fog Beast behavior. If so… Redmond won't just be targeted by rivals. He'll be thrown against the unknown."
Ward's voice remained steady, but the steel in it was unmistakable.
> Ward: "Then it is the perfect crucible. If Redmond cannot withstand the weight of his own influence, he will collapse before he ever reaches the stage. If he survives… Aurelius Academy will have birthed a weapon greater than the Seven themselves."
---
The Students' Reactions
While the mentors debated, the student body churned with restless ambition.
Kael Stroud was the loudest voice in the dorm halls.
> Kael: "If Magnus can step up just by hearing him, then so can I! Don't tell me a Nox brat has more grit than a Stroud!"
Selene Veyra shook her head at him, coldly practical.
> Selene: "You don't even understand what Redmond did. He didn't hand Magnus power, Kael. He forced him to remember who he was — to align with his Origin. That's not something you imitate with brute force."
Tiran Voss leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed, thoughtful.
> Tiran: "Still… she has a point. It's not about copying Redmond. It's about realizing what we've ignored in ourselves. If even Magnus could forge a path, what excuse do the rest of us have?"
Whispers echoed through the academy. Some cadets burned with excitement, others with envy. A few whispered openly:
"Redmond might surpass the Supremacy Seven."
"Or he'll draw their wrath first."
"Either way, we'll witness something the academy hasn't seen in decades."
---
Redmond's Reflection
Later that night, Redmond sat alone atop the academy's outer wall, crimson energy flickering softly around his hands like a restless flame. He had felt it — the shift in the atmosphere, the weight of eyes following him.
Magnus's progress had been real, undeniable. And yet… Redmond hadn't meant to spark a wave. He had only wanted to help a boy who was drifting.
He muttered to himself, voice quiet against the wind.
> Redmond: "Living energy… and now it lives in others. Is this what you meant, Father? Influence heavier than talent…"
The crimson energy flickered, reshaping into a dozen forms before unraveling again. A reminder: it was never still.
Below, students trained late into the night, pushing their bodies and Origins harder than ever before — all chasing a glimpse of the path Redmond had shown.
And above them, the Supremacy Seven watched from the academy's spires, their silhouettes sharp against the moons. None spoke, but all understood: the coming tournament would no longer be routine.
It would be war.
---