Click.
Bang!
The office doors slammed shut with enough force to make the crystal ornaments tremble faintly.
Chancellor Von Vanguard looked up immediately.
The air in the room shifted.
A familiar figure moved through the office without hesitation, her cane tapping softly against the marble floor as she approached the chair opposite him.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Measured.
Unhurried.
Dangerous.
The elderly woman lowered herself gracefully into the seat, every movement carrying the weight of someone long accustomed to authority.
Von straightened unconsciously.
"…It's done," he said at last.
The woman gave a small nod, fingers resting lightly atop the polished head of her cane.
"Swift and efficient," she mused. "I do appreciate competence."
Von forced a smile onto his face, though the stiffness around his mouth betrayed him.
"You did well, Von."
His fingers twitched beneath the desk.
Praise from her never felt comforting.
Only heavy.
"What happens now?" he asked carefully.
Silence.
Then—
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Her fingers drummed softly against the cane.
The sound echoed far louder in his ears than it should have.
"That," she said smoothly, "does not concern you."
Von lowered his gaze immediately.
"Your duty is simple."
Her sharp eyes lifted toward him.
"Nurture the children."
A pause.
"And do so without asking unnecessary questions."
The Chancellor swallowed.
"…Yes, ma'am."
"Good."
The faintest smile crossed her aged features.
Cold.
Knowing.
"Then watch closely, Von Vanguard."
Her gaze drifted toward the towering windows overlooking Aurikon Academy.
"Watch carefully…"
"…and witness the birth of a leader."
---
"Something happened today, sweetheart?"
Anderson's voice pulled Kacy from her thoughts.
She blinked once before lifting her head toward him.
The Woods family study stood in complete contrast to the warmth its owner carried.
Dark oak shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, packed with books few people were ever allowed to touch. Old files rested inside secured glass cabinets. A massive black desk sat near the center of the room, spotless except for the documents Anderson was reviewing.
People often claimed the study contained secrets capable of starting—or ending—an empire.
Most assumed those secrets belonged to Anderson Woods.
Those who truly knew the family understood otherwise.
Kacy tucked one leg beneath herself on the couch, expression thoughtful.
"Not really," she replied softly.
A pause.
"…The student council got reinstated today."
Anderson's brows rose immediately.
"Reinstated?" he repeated. "That system was abolished decades ago."
"Exactly."
Kacy leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing.
"That's why it feels strange."
Anderson rested his pen down carefully.
Tap.
Tap.
His fingers drummed once against the desk as he watched her sink deeper into thought.
His daughter rarely looked disturbed without reason.
"What makes it suspicious?" he asked calmly.
Kacy looked at him.
"It's not the council itself," she explained. "Honestly, I expected it to return eventually. Aurikon's structure practically demands it."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"I probably would've revived it myself one day just to cross it off my bucket list."
That earned a quiet chuckle from Anderson.
But her expression soon became serious again.
"It's the timing."
The atmosphere shifted slightly.
"The decision happened overnight. Roles were prepared immediately. Names were already selected…"
Her eyes lowered slightly.
"…almost like someone had been arranging pieces long before the announcement."
Anderson listened silently as she explained the events of the day—the assembly, the nominations, the positions assigned.
Including hers.
When she finished, the room fell quiet.
Then—
A soft laugh escaped Anderson.
"Well," he said lightly, leaning back in his chair, "your name being there isn't surprising."
Kacy narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Dad."
"They're terrified of you," he continued teasingly.
Kacy pouted immediately.
"I'm serious."
"I know."
His smile softened.
That was precisely why he was listening carefully.
Kacy exhaled quietly and glanced away.
"It just doesn't feel right," she murmured.
Then softer—
"…though I suppose my time there won't be entirely wasted."
A tiny shift crossed her expression.
Barely noticeable.
But Anderson caught it instantly.
The slight softness in her eyes.
The hidden anticipation.
Amusement flickered across his face.
Ah.
So that was part of it.
He lowered his gaze back toward his paperwork before she noticed.
Meanwhile, deep within him—
unease settled.
Kacy's instincts had never failed before.
If she sensed movement beneath the surface…
Then someone was interfering with Aurikon's system.
And that was never a small matter.
---
"So let me get this straight…"
Victor stared at Lynn from across the dining table, disbelief written all over his face.
"The student council suddenly returns after years…"
He pointed toward her dramatically.
"And somehow you end up vice president?"
Tak!
"Ow—!"
Victor grabbed his head instantly.
"Dad!"
Richard lowered his hand calmly.
"Watch the way you speak to your sister."
"That hurt!"
"It was supposed to."
Victor clicked his tongue irritably, rubbing the back of his head.
"Don't tell me you people don't find this suspicious."
Richard folded his arms.
"You're exaggerating."
"No, I'm not!"
Victor pointed toward Lynn again.
"The timing alone smells like a setup."
"You rascal—"
"No."
Lynn's voice cut cleanly through the argument.
Both men paused.
She sat elegantly at the table, chin resting lightly against her intertwined fingers.
Calm.
Composed.
But her eyes—
sharp.
"Victor's right."
The atmosphere quieted immediately.
"Everything about this feels intentional."
Her gaze lowered briefly toward her untouched glass.
"The council…"
"The selected names…"
"The sudden restructuring…"
A faint smile touched her lips.
"It feels less like a school reform…"
"…and more like the opening act of a performance."
Victor blinked.
Richard leaned back slowly, interest surfacing.
Lynn's eyes gleamed.
"A stage has been prepared."
A pause.
"For protagonists."
The corner of her lips lifted slightly.
"Unfortunately for whoever arranged it…"
Her gaze sharpened.
"…I have no intention of being background decoration."
Richard burst into laughter immediately.
"That's my daughter!"
Victor groaned dramatically.
"There she goes again…"
Then his expression softened slightly.
"…Still."
He looked toward her more seriously.
"Be careful."
Lynn blinked once.
"If you need help—"
"I won't."
Victor's face scrunched instantly.
"Aish! Why did this happen after I graduated?!"
Tak!
"Ow! Father!"
"Stop shouting at the table."
Victor glared in wounded betrayal while Richard calmly sipped his drink.
"You're joining your mother and brother in X Country tomorrow morning," Richard reminded casually.
Victor groaned louder.
"This family doesn't appreciate me."
Lynn watched him stomp upstairs dramatically and sighed softly.
"That child…"
Richard shook his head before turning back toward his daughter.
Then his expression gentled.
"You'll do well."
Lynn smiled faintly.
Of course she would.
Her fingers tapped lightly against the table as excitement slowly stirred beneath her composed exterior.
Whoever built this stage…
…had unknowingly handed her front-row seats.