"I want to ask you a few questions—stones tossed into a still pond."

"I'm a—" Evelyn paused with theater, "ask-and-I-answer machine?"

Hedi stared at the bare ground, a quiet plain under her feet. Green phosphor on the walls breathed back to life. A mild breeze combed her hair like soft river grass. Beyond the drip of wet rock, breaths rose and fell like uneven waves.

"Are the three surgeries in the record tied to a partner—ropes on the same mast?"

"What partner? Didn't you turn me down—door shut, latch dropped?"

"Whose life were you trying to save, spending so many lives like candles in a storm?"

"Your guiding is too obvious, Melvina—lantern swung right in my face."

"Because I know a piece of it." Hedi raised her head like lifting a sealed sky. "The man on the phone, the surgery log, Dark Realm Erosion. At first I suspected the dean, then you. But now, it seems you aren't eroded. You just... carry a few little toys like thorns under cloth."

"You don't have enough proof—grains short of a full measure."

"You have a partner; three surgeries in quick succession are an urgent decision, like stitching a wound before the rain. Those two facts are enough."

Evelyn fanned her lashes; her body leaned toward Hedi, a reed bending to the current. She brushed the wall like a dragonfly’s touch. Green dust swam under her fingertips, lighting her deep-brown hair and her pale, puffy cheeks like dawn washed thin.

"My time is running thin—sand sliding fast through a cracked hourglass." Her pace quickened; her voice grew clear, like frost cutting air.

Hedi pushed the topic forward like a boat against tide. "The King's order."

"So you know—sun already over the ridge?"

"It's the simplest fit. You studied the Shattered City under royal sanction. But how would he be eroded—moon eaten by cloud?"

"Heh. Who told you? Another guess—an arrow shot into fog?"

"Guessing—stones thrown where the mist swallows them."

Evelyn breathed out, a warm ribbon in cold air. Her right hand curled, heedless of moss slipping under her nails like green worms. "You said my one life can’t outweigh the thousands in the Shattered City—scales tipped by a mountain of bones." Her tone was steady, a still lake under wind. "But with results on the table, those lives are numbers to His Majesty—digits carved in ice."

"That’s awfully bleak—night paint on a noon sky."

"Ha. Have you met His Majesty—stood under that iron sun?"

Hedi licked her lips, dry as salt. "No right—sparrow barred from palace eaves."

"After the Erosion hit the Shattered City, he summoned me. The scene burned in like brand on bark. He read a loss list with no name, no gender, no age—only cold numbers like hailstones. He pointed at those strings of digits, and calmly explained how the city's life‑and‑death balance tilted—scale arm dragged by lead. In that moment, I felt it deep. We are tiny, evanescent numbers among millions—fireflies swallowed by night."

"So bottom line, you want power. Olivia’s or my results become tribute—a red bowl laid before the King."

"When I was small, I lived in the Empire’s infamous gutter—shadow water behind the market." Evelyn watched the ground, her voice unhurried, like a slow drum. "It was a roost for trades that hid from daylight—rats fat on silence." She lifted her head and let out a warm breath, mist blooming like a ghost chrysanthemum. "Everyone lived by swindle and snatch, burn and kill, rob and run—a storm that never cleared."

"I can hear it. You’re brimming with rancor—bile dark as rain-soaked earth."

"Don’t define my road. Without it, I’d be in some unrelated place doing unrelated work—two lines that never meet, like parallel rails."

"Is that bad—bread without salt?"

"A girl raised in the gutter... Hedi Melvina..." Her gaze was a needle. "I looked into your past. Abandoned at birth, then picked up by the nuns of the Molokov Bay Chapel—hands like white wings. At sixteen, you went to the Hervor Academy of Magic on the Priest’s recommendation—ink and seal opening a gate. Soon you became a rising Professor—name circling like migrating swallows."

"What’s your point—arrow or smoke?"

"We both... climbed from the bottom—roots cracking stone."

"Don’t drift." Hedi scratched her ear, weary as a dusk sparrow. She stepped in and plucked Evelyn’s crystal pendant—moon from a thin throat. "I don’t want to trade life stories or stray threads—no weaving today."

"Do you know how to use it—knife or talisman?"

"If it can leash you, it’s enough—rope on the wild horse."

"This isn’t wise—bridge on floodwater."

"You attack me, I smash the crystal. Neither of us gets out—two fish in a drained pond."

"Martyrdom—body broken for a banner."

"Flattering—gold leaf on rust." Hedi tucked the crystal into her pocket, a cold star in cloth. "I saw Selina use one once. I’ll tinker; it should work—sparks coaxed from wet wood."

"I won’t let you leave—gate barred with night iron."

Hedi raised her forearm, heart first, then motion—a pulse like struck drum. She shaped a solid shield, a glass bell around a candle, bracing for the strike. But Evelyn’s magic hit like floodwater from a burst dam—roaring river through a clay wall. Hedi pushed the shield to its limit, iron over reed, yet the torrent smashed through in an instant—hammer to thin frost.

The impact hurled Hedi like a doll in a giant’s invisible hand—sparrow cast from a branch. She slammed into the door, straight and hard—thunder in a stone throat. Dust flew like startled moths. The doorframe shook, a tree in gale, and the green phosphor flickered like dying fireflies.

Suddenly she felt ground again—rock under bone. Pain and tremor climbed her body like ants to the crown. Her knee scraped the rough floor—heat like pepper on skin.

"No defeats in the waking world?" Evelyn sounded disappointed, rain tapping tin. "You still can’t touch my trump card—sun behind a thicker cloud."

Hedi clenched her teeth—stone against stone. She forced herself up, heart first, then muscle. She shifted weight to her right foot, and sat down hard, world tilting like a loose boat. Her right ankle screamed—pain like a hot snake coiled tight.

She peeled back her white sock—snow lifted from bark. Beyond the scraped knee, the ankle was hot and swollen—red fruit under skin. Standing and moving would be hard—rope on bruised limb.

"Good mind game." Hedi cupped her ankle, fingers cool as river stones. "We both know what happens if the core breaks—house falls if the beam is cut. I thought we’d cancel each other like before—two waves meeting, foam and hush. I didn’t expect you to go all‑in—a spear thrown at dawn. By the time I reacted, I could only harden the shield—ice thickened too late."

Evelyn’s voice drifted from beyond the door, an echo along a damp tunnel. "Still calm and analyzing—lantern in a storm. I’d rather hear you beg—knees in mud."

"You broke our pact. I’ll smash the crystal—stone to shards."

"If you really would, you wouldn’t say it—blade drawn without warning."

"When I slapped you, I warned you—thunder before rain."

"Try it, then." Evelyn sent attack spells into the doorway—waves on waves, teeth on teeth. Hedi could only defend—shell closed under hail. "Destroy one for me. Do you have that leisure—time hung on a frayed thread?"

Hedi yanked out the crystal pendant—cold moon in hand—and hurled it at Evelyn.

The pendant cut a brilliant arc through the air—meteor on a black canvas—straight into the onrushing spell like a hawk diving into surf.

At the instant they touched, the air compressed to its limit—lung squeezed by iron—and a deafening blast tore the silence—mountain split by lightning.

Crystal and magic collided, birthing a shockwave like a newborn storm. The whole corridor shuddered—earthquake inside a dying tower.

The green glow on the walls bucked and flickered, fireflies in gale, then went out—night swallowing herbs.

Next, energy ripples raced outward—rings on a disturbed lake.

Under the shock, countless motes and dust burst wide—stars scattered from a broken jar—and swept the space at wild speed, turning calm into chaos—still shrine toppled by boars.

"Melvina!!!" Evelyn stopped, reining her boiling anger like a jerked bridle. "I can’t let you control my body—puppet strings cut." She hunched, spine like a bent bow, and fought to steady her trembling arms—leaves in wind.

Hedi stayed silent, then moved. She crawled forward, slow as a river under ice, and tried to merge with the pitch‑black—the kind of dark where a hand vanishes. In the depths, something leapt into view—stone-still, statue‑quiet, a density of silence like packed snow. It looked shadowed, but more real than shadow—ink heavier than night.

Don’t tell me—

Olivia Viola has been here all along.