The iron gates of the inner sanctum of the Academy did not open; they groaned. The sound was one of heavy stone and ancient gears that signaled the end of mercy. The students had been shadows in the world for two months, sent to the corners of the realm to hone their blades and their wells. Now, they were being recalled to the ledger to see who had earned interest and who had defaulted.
Aleric stood amidst the throngs of students returning to the Academy. He was a stark vertical line in a sea of shifting bodies. His brown skin was stretched tightly over his body, and his red eyes were calm. Not peaceful, but calm as a crossbow loaded with bolts.
Around him, the air was thick with the scent of expensive oils and the hum of "magic that commoner like me can't access before this." The noble-born were draped in silks infused with mana-conductive threads, their voices loud and brittle as they boasted of the tutors their fathers had bought for them.
"Did you hear?" a voice sneered from Aleric's left. It was Valerius, flanked by two sycophants. His mana-signature was broad but shallow, like a puddle trying to look like an ocean. "They say the Culling this year has been redesigned. Half of us won't see the sunset as students."
Valerius' eyes focused on Aleric. He took in the plain, travel-worn uniform, the plain hilt of the sword at his side. Valerius' lip curled in a smirk.
"Still here, commoner? I thought you'd have used your leave to find a place to hide in the countryside. You look exactly as you did sixty days ago. Stagnant."
Aleric didn't respond. He didn't waste the breath on an insult. To Aleric, Valerius was not a person, just a variable with a high probability of failure. Deep in the rafters, forty feet above Valerius' head, Shade 03 was pressed against a gargoyle, watching the back of the noble's neck. Aleric didn't need to look at his enemy to know exactly where his jugular was.
Asset Audit: Six units active, Aleric calculated silently. Four deployed. Two in reserve. Mana-well expansion: 25% beyond previous baseline. Readiness: 100%.
"The assembly is starting," Aleric said, his voice a flat, metallic rasp that cut through Valerius' laughter.
The crowd was ushered into the Grand Arena, but they did not stop at the sand. A massive section of the floor had been retracted, revealing a sloping stone tunnel that descended into the bowels of the earth. The air that wafted up from the dark was cold and carried a faint, rhythmic humming—the sound of thousands of tiny, vibrating wings.
The Headmaster stood at the lip of the descent, his silhouette framed by the harsh morning light.
"The Audit of the Flesh is complete," the Headmaster announced, his words echoing deep into the bones of the students. "The Audit of Efficiency has begun. You shall enter the Labyrinth of the Unseen. Your sole purpose is to exit. But you should know this: the Unseen is not empty. The Void Phages reside there. They don't see your faces. They don't care about your titles. They see only the mana you squander."
Fear, a tangible feeling of trembling, spread throughout the ranks of the nobles. They had heard of the phages. The phages were insects that fed on untapped, unused, and wasted mana. The labyrinth was a death sentence for those who relied on "brute force" magic.
Aleric adjusted his gloves. He peered into the depths of the dark tunnel. While the others were frantically checking their light stones and their mana shields that would only serve to waste more "scent" for the insects, Aleric stood. He knew that the two shades in his void, Tracker and Unit 06, were waiting for his command.
"Summoning."
The word was a mere breath, barely audible. In the darkness of his own shadow, he felt the two units shift, preparing to move through the geometry of the dark.
He stepped over the threshold, leaving the light behind. The Culling had begun. Aleric had already balanced his books.