The list was long.

[Resource Relay: A multi-stage scavenger hunt requiring navigation, stealth, and item retrieval.]

[Beast Synchronization Trials: Timed tests of coordination between beast and binder.]

[Merchant Royalty: A high-stakes trade simulation event.]

[(NEW!) Curing Company: A newly cooperative event proposed by the president and elders designed to test the adaptability of aspiring healers and medical specialists.]

[Spirit Alchemy Sprint: A short-window brewing challenge using surprise ingredients.]

[Field Engineering Gauntlet: Rapid design-and-build under simulated crisis conditions.]

[Arena Skirmish Matches: Elimination-based combat, solo and duo categories.]

[Integration Tactics Showcase: Cooperative challenges involving multiple teams and beasts.]

[First-Year Arena (Singles): The festival's capstone freshman competition. Participants must be within the top thirty per division. Joining the singles arena would forfeit participation on the team arena.]

[(NEW!) First-Year Battle Arena (Teams): Another fresh addition and one of the two highlights of the festival. A team of five freshmen from different divisions can join. Free for all students with two members ranking within the top thirty of his division. Joining the team arena would forfeit participation on the singles arena.]

Beneath the list was the note everyone was looking for:

[Participation earns AP and potential recommendation for cross-division training slots.]

The crowd's energy shifted immediately. Conversations overlapped. Students began marking events on their slates, debating which ones to enter.

Beside him, Kai leaned in with a low whistle. "Arena Skirmish. You'd wreck in that."

"Depends on the rules," Rowan said. "If they allow full beast resonance, it's a different game."

Lyra glanced toward the list again. "Integration Tactics Showcase might be safer. Less risk of injury before the Arena."

Aston scanned the list one more time, his expression neutral.

The competitions weren't just entertainment. They were data collection—another way for the academy to see who could adapt under pressure.

He wasn't worried about performing.

He was already thinking about his position within the academy. The right combination of events could be used to manage perception, just like with the Crimson Genesis Elixir.

In his mind, he was already mapping it out.

That was when the message arrived.

A faint chime in his terminal, low enough that the others in the group didn't notice. The symbol on the display was subtle—three concentric rings folding inward, dissolving into shadow. Shadow Ops summons.

He closed the terminal with a casual flick, pushing back his chair.

"Something came up," Aston said, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeves.

Kai frowned. "Mission?"

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"Something like that. We'll go over the festival planning later—dinner?"

Seria nodded, already moving her pieces in the board puzzle they'd been playing. "Fine. Don't vanish for the whole day."

Gray padded to his side, Mirage gliding down from the high beam to perch on his shoulder. With a short nod to the group, Aston headed out.

The academy's daylight chatter faded as he slipped into the concealed route—side stair, maintenance hatch, then down the narrow access shaft to the buried stone corridor. His footsteps fell into the familiar rhythm of quiet stone, each step drawing him deeper into the other half of his life.

The obsidian gate of the Outer Ring parted without a word.

Inside, the air was cooler, quieter. Lanternlight rippled against curved walls as he made his way into the briefing chamber.

Instructor Ilyen—Ichor was already there, leaning on the edge of the central table, her panther-like spirit beast sprawled behind her with eyes half-lidded. She glanced up as he entered.

"Kynee," she greeted. No warmth, but no ice either. "Punctual."

Beside her stood another woman, smiling faintly, a waterfall of ink-black hair falling over one shoulder. Even standing still, she had the aura of a predator at rest.

"Elder Erin, no—" Aston acknowledged with a shallow nod. Then, because they were in the Ring, "—Hydra."

It was one of the missions he took in the past week when Aston learned of Elder Erin's codename, the Hydra. When he asked her of her codename's origins, she simply says that her Seraphis Garter Lamiar is just one of the heads and nothing more.

She smiled wider. "I see you've been busy. Minor missions—quick, clean, and without noise. Very Shadow Ops of you."

"Didn't realize someone was keeping score," he replied.

Hydra's eyes gleamed. "We keep score on everyone." She gestured to the projection that unfolded between them.

It wasn't a map. It was a schedule—events, names, divisions. The Grand Neophyte Festival. His name wasn't on it yet.

"This," Hydra said, "is your next assignment."

Aston raised an eyebrow. "Joining the festival?"

"Not just joining," Ichor said. "Placing. Top three. Any event."

He looked between them. "Why?"

"Morale," Hydra answered smoothly. "We have many eyes in the Academy, but few who stand in the open. You're the only freshman in our ranks. A visible success draws attention—controlled attention. It tells those in the know that our organization is… relevant."

Aston frowned slightly. "And if I fail?"

"No penalty," Hydra said instantly. "We won't punish you if you fail or even not accept the mission. But—" Her smile tilted, like a knife angled toward the light. "If you succeed, the rewards will be… interesting."

He studied the projection. His mind was already calculating—what this could do for his cover, how it could fit into his broader deception. Visibility was a double-edged blade. Too much, and it drew the wrong eyes. But this was within his control, and the "assignment" would serve as a shield against suspicion about his motives for competing.

He weighed the pros and cons in silence. He could refuse, keep his head down, and let the festival pass as just another academy spectacle. But this gave him an excuse to push hard without revealing his true goals—and a reason, if anyone asked later, for any… sudden changes in his ability.

Finally, he nodded once. "Fine. I'll take it."

Hydra's smirk deepened, like she had expected nothing less. "Good. We'll be watching."

The projection dissolved. The room dimmed again, the chamber's heartbeat-like glow returning to its steady rhythm. Aston turned toward the gate. Gray followed silently, Mirage sweeping overhead in a soundless arc.

Neither Ichor nor Hydra moved until he was gone.

"You're certain?" Ichor asked without turning her head.

Hydra chuckled, low and knowing. "Certain he'll place? No. Certain he'll fight like the outcome matters? Absolutely."

Ichor's lips curved slightly. "The betting pool is already running?"

"Of course." Hydra's gaze lingered on the now-dark table where the projection had been. "A fourth the Outer Ring has money on him. Odds are interesting. If he makes top three, some people are going to lose very badly."

"And if he wins outright?"

Hydra's smile sharpened, her voice a whisper edged in amusement. "Then we'll have a different kind of problem… and a very useful weapon."

Ichor finally turned, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You're playing the long game with him."

"So are you," Hydra replied without missing a beat. "The difference is, I'm betting on him to surprise both of us."

They stood in silence a moment longer, the hum of the Outer Ring wrapping around them like a living shadow.

Somewhere above, the academy bustled with preparations, unaware that one of their own had just been given a mission that was more than a competition.

Down here, it was already a calculated move in a much larger game.

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