## CHAPTER 50: Leads
Two weeks had bled into the calendar since the harrowing expedition into the Forbidden Sector. Within the grand, arched halls of Althelgard Academia, the near-death encounters with chimeras and cerebral stalkers had already begun to fade in the school. For most, it was a story to tell over dinner; for Caspian, it was the beginning of a cold, silent war.
The cafeteria was a cacophony of clattering trays and teenage chatter. Caspian sat at his usual table, surrounded by Lyra Valerius, Casel, and Elisa. He was currently engaged in a very personal, very peaceful battle with a bowl of beef stew. The meat was tender, the broth rich with savory herbs, and for a fleeting moment, the world felt normal.
Lyra hadn't given him a moment's rest since they returned. She had poked, prodded, and questioned every move he made during the test, her sharp mind circling the inconsistencies in his Commoner persona like a hawk. But today, even she seemed preoccupied with her own plate, allowing Caspian to finally enjoy a quiet mouthful.
He lifted a spoonful of soup, the steam curling against his nose, when the world stuttered.
It wasn't a sound or a physical blow, but a ripple—a sudden, violent disturbance in the very fabric of reality. No one else noticed it. He froze, the spoon hovering inches from his lips, as the invisible wave of distorted space passed through his body.
He slowly lowered the spoon, his eyes darting around the room. Lyra was mid-sentence, debating a history grade with Casel; Elisa was delicately sipping her water. None of them had felt it. None of them knew that the air they breathed had just been momentarily warped.
Caspian shifted his gaze toward a table a few yards away. There, shrouded in the usual aura of detached mystery, sat Silas and the other "misfits." Silas was already staring at him, his dark eyes beneath his hood conveying a single, urgent message: *Now.*
"Excuse me, I'll be back in a bit," Caspian said, standing up abruptly.
Lyra blinked, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Where are you going? The stew is finally getting cold enough for you to actually eat it."
"Just forgot something in my locker," Caspian lied smoothly, already stepping away. They watched him go for a second before the gravity of their own hunger pulled them back to their meals.
---
Caspian slid into the empty seat at Silas's table. The atmosphere here was vastly different—heavy, clinical, and devoid of the cafeteria's general cheer.
"Sorry to pull you away from your lunch," Silas said, his voice a low drone that barely carried past the edge of the table.
"No worries. What's the going?" Caspian asked, leaning in.
"Things are going to happen," Silas stated.
Caspian frowned. "That's cryptic, even for you. What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means it's about to go down," Zerav interjected. He shoved a large spoonful of rice into his mouth, looking remarkably bored for someone discussing a potential conspiracy. He swallowed and leaned forward, his purple eyes sharp. "We've cross-referenced our 'accidents' from the expedition. It wasn't a coincidence, Caspian. Monsters were placed in our paths with surgical precision."
Caspian listened, nodding slowly as the pieces began to click. "Go on."
"Silas had a desert scorpion in a rainforest," Zerav continued, ticking points off his fingers. "I had a Shadow Rabbit that belonged in mountain peaks. Louisa found a monstrous plant that should have wilted in the sun, and Edna... well, she had that giant worm."
"You're onto something," Caspian agreed, his voice dropping an octave. "On that same day, I killed a creature attacking Alium. It didn't just die; it revived itself with an altered mana signature. It was stronger, faster, and fundamentally... wrong."
"Or someone revived it for you," Silas added.
The table went dead silent. Louisa leaned in, her brow furrowed. "Care to elaborate, Silas?"
"Aside from my teammates, I felt a presence," Silas explained. "Just after I've killed the beast, a shadow lingered at the edge of my perception. It didn't have the signature of a student or a teacher. It was cold. And then, it vanished."
"So what do we have?" Caspian asked. "Any clues on who is pulling the strings?"
Silas steepled his fingers. "There is a society known as the Genix. They've been in the records for centuries, though most historians treat them as a myth. They are a secret collective that believes the key to ultimate sorcery—the kind that brings things into reality from nothing—lies in the physical architecture of the brain."
"That sounds like a noble cause," Edna chirped, trying to stay positive.
"Yeah," Caspian agreed cautiously. "In theory. Get to the point, Silas."
"It's a 'noble' cause," Silas said with a grimace, "except for their methodology. They don't just study the brain with spells or scans. They believe the most potent data comes from live vivisection. They harvest the brains of powerful sorcerers while they are still conscious to capture the 'spark' of magic at the moment of death."
"That's... horrible," Edna whispered, her playful nature vanishing instantly.
"But why?" Louisa asked, her face pale. "Why would they go to such lengths?"
"Because studying a brain safely has limitations," Zerav said, yawning and leaning back. He looked like he was discussing the weather, which only made the topic more chilling. "They hit a ceiling in their research centuries ago. They found they got a lot more 'progress' when they stopped caring about the survival of the subject."
"How can he make something so dark sound so mundane?" Louisa thought, watching Zerav with a mix of love and sheer bewilderment.
"They were supposedly shut down and purged long ago," Silas continued. "But I believe they went into the deep shadows. They are working secretly, and I believe they are the reason students have been going missing from this academy for years. They aren't just looking for any students—they are looking for specific bloodlines. High-potential brains."
Caspian took it all in. He wasn't interested in the history; he wanted the solution. "What do you estimate their next plan will be? And who is the suspect?"
"Suspects? I don't know," Silas admitted, and a wave of disappointment hit the table. Even with all their power, they were still blind. "But I do know their top target."
Silas's gaze shifted across the room. He looked past the rows of benches to where Lyra Valerius sat, laughing at something Casel had said.
"Lyra?" Caspian asked, his heart skipping a beat. Silas nodded.
"The Valerius bloodline is one of the purest in the history of sorcery," Silas said. "Her brain would be the ultimate prize for a group like the Genix. Protecting her must be our top priority."
"You can't be serious," Zerav said, surprised. "Who in their right mind would want to pick a fight with the Valerius family? That's asking for a localized apocalypse."
"Zerav is right," Louisa added. "And besides, Lyra is incredibly strong and intelligent. She isn't an easy catch. They'd have to be suicidal to go after her."
" No matter how strong or smart you are anyone is vulnerable to a well planned ambush you if all people should know that" Silas said to Louisa.
Edna, her voice turning dull and serious for the first time in weeks, spoke up. "And what's the probability that Alastair Valerius isn't involved in some way?"
The table went silent again. The mention of Lyra's father—a man whose four-year absence from the public eye was as mysterious as his sudden return six weeks ago—hit like a physical weight.
"She's right," Louisa whispered. "His disappearance was suspicious, and his return as a power player just before we resumed classes... the timing is too perfect."
"We can't just ask Lyra about it," Edna said.
"Why not?" Zerav asked. "If her dad is a creep, she should know."
"How insensitive can you be?" Louisa sighed, though she followed it with a silent thought:
"But I still love him."
"I haven't considered the Alastair connection deeply enough. Thank you," Silas said.
"Regardless, they failed to capture any students during the exercise. They'll be getting desperate. They will make a move soon."
Silas leaned in closer, his voice a barely audible rasp. "But we have the advantage. No one would ever expect that five of the eleven most powerful sorcerers to ever exist are currently enrolled in this school. They think they are hunting sheep. They have no idea they are walking into a den of wolves."
"I knew that. I was just testing you, Silas. You pass," Edna said, her bubbly smile returning like a sunburst.
Caspian looked back at his table. Lyra was looking around, probably wondering where he was. He felt a sudden, fierce surge of protectiveness.
"Silas, can you help me look after her? I need to start digging into the faculty records, and I can't do that while being her shadow," Caspian said.
Silas gave a dull, deadpan look. "Sure. I would love to waste half of my precious time watching the daughter of one of the most respected, influential men in the history of magic. It sounds like a thrilling use of my talents."
"Thank you," Caspian said, ignoring the sarcasm. He stood up and walked back to his table.
Zerav watched him go, then turned to Silas. "So... you were being sarcastic, right? You actually hate the idea of being a bodyguard."
"Deeply," Silas replied, picking up his fork.
"And he knew it."