In the dim glow of his dorm room, Nate leaned back against his desk, letting his gaze drift to Elysia, who still stood by the door, the weight of their recent conversation lingering between them like a fog. He cleared his throat, unsure of how to bridge the silence that had settled.

"So," he began, voice soft but laced with an edge, "how have you been? It's... been a few days, hasn't it?"

Elysia looked at him, the slight shift of her posture betraying her own uncertainty. "It has," she replied, folding her arms as she looked away, her eyes thoughtful. "I've... been surviving," she admitted after a pause. "Honestly, I'm still sorting through everything. After being accepted into the academy, being invited to the student council, dealing with my family while I am away, dealing with our own little fallout, and now with Susana well... everything just feels heavier." She shook her head slightly, a wry smile playing at her lips. "But I guess that's life here. You just... keep moving forward."

"Yeah," Nate muttered, a hint of bitterness edging his voice. "We're not really given a choice, are we?" He studied her face, the faint tension around her eyes." Elysia took in a slow breath, her gaze dropping.

"And... how are you with everything else?" He hesitated, his gaze drifting down, before meeting her eyes again. "How's the... hunger?"

"I was able to feed a little off you," he admitted, his voice quieter, almost reluctant. "Enough to keep the edge off, but... not enough. I'm still... struggling with it. I guess you could say I've gotten used to struggling." He forced a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes, hoping to mask the truth.

A faint silence fell between them, the only sound the soft ticking of the wall clock. Nate shifted, feeling the weight of unsaid things lingering in the air, and cleared his throat. "So... how are those readjustment classes they've got you in? Going alright?"

Elysia's shoulders tensed, and for a split second, a flash of discomfort crossed her face. "They're... going," she said, her tone laced with a reluctance he'd rarely seen from her.

Nate's eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, studying her. "Elysia," he said, his voice soft but insistent, "what's wrong?"

She shifted, glancing away. "Promise me you won't... do anything," she murmured, a slight quiver in her voice that set his instincts on edge.

He managed a smirk. "I'll try."

"No, Drakk," she said, her gaze sharpening as she looked at him intently. "I'm serious. I need you to promise me you won't do anything. No matter what I tell you."

Her tone left no room for argument, and he let out a reluctant sigh, nodding. "Alright. I promise."

Elysia hesitated, taking a breath as she steadied herself. "In these readjustment classes," she began, her voice tinged with frustration and a trace of bitterness, "we're... they put us under Cognitive Reformation Type Magic."

Nate's expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching as he processed her words. "They're trying to—"

"Brainwash us," she finished, her voice flat. "They're trying to bend our will, make us 'compliant' to their standards. It's... subtle, but insidious."

The anger surged up in him, a fiery resentment that twisted his expression, but Elysia quickly raised a hand, silencing him before he could respond. "Remember your promise, Drakkar," she warned, her voice sharp.

He exhaled, forcing himself to calm, though his fists remained clenched at his sides. "I hate this place, these humans." He muttered, his voice low, seething. "Forcing you into classes that... that strip away everything you are. They have no right—"

"Drakk," she cut in, her tone softening as she placed a hand on his arm. "The magic doesn't work on me."

His gaze snapped to hers, the confusion and fury still simmering beneath the surface. "How?"

"Because of my own magic," she replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I can break things down to their atomic level. Including Aether Scripts. I just... erase parts of the script as they cast it. It has no effect on me." Her smile softened, a hint of gratitude in her eyes. "So, I guess you could say... thank you."

Nate blinked, his own tension easing slightly, replaced by a faint smirk. "You're welcome, milady," he said, a hint of teasing slipping into his tone.

She laughed, the sound lightening the charged air in the room, looking at him with a warmth that was rare for her. "And thank you, Drakk. For being my... friend."

His smirk wavered, and he quickly glanced away, feeling a strange twist in his chest at her words. He cleared his throat, fighting to maintain his composure. "Well, anyway," he muttered, looking down, "I'd better get back to my duties as an enforcer. I've been... neglecting them too long."

Elysia's gaze lingered on him, an amused smile on her lips. "Oh, of course," she said, amusement in her voice. "Wouldn't want to keep you from your... important duties, would we?"

Nate met her gaze briefly, giving a quick nod before turning toward the door. But the weight of her gaze and the lingering warmth of her laughter stayed with him as he opened the door, gesturing for her to leave. "Duty calls," he muttered, masking the slight tension in his voice as he fought to suppress the conflicting emotions stirring within him.

"Of course," Elysia said, her expression softening one last time before she stepped past him, casting him a warm glance as she left the room, leaving him alone with the silence that felt heavier than ever.

The following month passed in a haze of self-study for the Blanks. Nate and Anton, alongside their classmates, took turns sifting through Professor Lillian's assigned readings, sharing sparse notes as they worked through advanced material without guidance. When rumours circulated that Professor Lillian might return that day, Nate, Anton, and a few others arrived early, eager to see if their source had been right.

Lillian entered the classroom silently, a striking figure amid the students' anticipation. The room hushed, students exchanging glances at the professor they hadn't seen since Susana's broadcast. Lillian's face was shadowed with weariness, his usual piercing gaze softened with something else—perhaps guilt or worry.

"Thank you all for keeping up," he began, his voice carrying an apologetic undertone. "I'm aware that my absence was... abrupt." His eyes moved over the room, briefly meeting Nate's and then Anton's, before settling on the rest of the class. "In the aftermath of last month's incident, those of us with duties beyond these walls have been occupied tracking down the culprits."

The tension in the room grew thicker. Everyone knew of Susana's broadcast, but few had spoken openly of it since that day. Professor Lillian continued, his voice a mix of frustration and exhaustion.

"It appears that those responsible have vanished," he admitted. "No one has stepped forward, and so far, our attempts to find them have led to dead ends." A rare, subtle tension in his voice hinted at the weight of that failure. "But, today, we're focusing on something that Susana's case has brought to the forefront: AetherTech Medicine. It's a field that, if wielded responsibly, could change lives."

Professor Lillian turned to the board, gesturing to a faintly glowing diagram. "Today, in honor of Susana, we'll explore the applications of AetherTech in medical treatment." His expression softened as he continued, his tone quieter. "This isn't merely academic—it's a field that, if we're lucky, may one day give us the tools to heal not only physical ailments but those wounds that are... deeper."

The students, absorbed by his words, leaned forward as Lillian clicked a remote. Holographic diagrams filled the space above, rotating illustrations of anatomical structures infused with streams of blue Aetherium. A high-resolution image appeared next, showing the Aetherium-infused circulatory system of a human heart.

"To begin," Lillian said, gesturing to the image, "we'll discuss Aetherium's unique properties. Unlike ordinary medicine, Aetherium works on a molecular level. When paired with bioengineered structures, it enables cellular regeneration, rapid tissue repair, and, with careful control, significant improvements in neural connectivity."

He held up a small vial of a sparkling, opalescent liquid. "This is Aetherium in its raw form, heavily diluted. In large quantities, its energy is overwhelming—dangerous, even." His gaze shifted to the students, his eyes lingering momentarily on Nate. "But in these safe forms, it's used in everything from diagnostic tools to regenerative medicines."

The students watched intently as he set the vial down and began walking through each part of the lesson.

Nate felt his pulse quicken, his focus narrowing as if the entire world had distilled into the glimmering vial. Well hello gorgeous.

Professor Lillian stepped over to a polished AetherTech scanner, sleek with an iridescent finish that pulsed faintly with Aetherium energy. "Now, diagnostic techniques," he said, moving his hand over the scanner. "With the infusion of Aetherium, scanners can pinpoint diseases, fractures, and even hidden ailments by mapping out the Aetherium signatures of tissues."

He gestured for a volunteer, and Anton stepped forward. As the machine hummed to life, the class watched as Anton's skeletal structure and muscle tissue appeared as a hologram, accompanied by a faint, blue glow indicating healthy Aetherium flow.

"These machines are capable of real-time diagnosis," Lillian explained, "providing an unparalleled insight into physiological conditions. Now, who can tell me the advantage of an Aetherium signature for diagnostics?"

One of the students raised her hand. "Aetherium interacts with tissue differently, so the scanner could tell if, say, cancer cells or injuries were present because of the altered signature."

"Exactly," Lillian confirmed. "This ability to detect subtle changes gives us a head start in treatment." He turned to the next display, holding up an enchanted stethoscope that pulsed with faint blue light. "Even something as traditional as a stethoscope is enhanced in AetherTech Medicine. This device can detect minute irregularities in heartbeat and blood flow by reading Aetherium fluctuations in real-time."

"Next, treatment methods," Professor Lillian continued, directing everyone's attention to a few small capsules. "Aether-Infused Medications. Unlike typical antibiotics or painkillers, these work by integrating with the body's Aetherium flow, targeting pathogens on a cellular level."

He handed one of the capsules to Nate. "Take a look. Each one is infused with a minute dose of Aetherium designed to attack pathogens directly." Nate turned the capsule over, intrigued by the faint, shimmering energy within.

Lillian held up an enchanted wand next. "Regenerative healing is another important aspect of AetherTech Medicine. With enchanted wands, we can direct Aetherium into damaged tissues to accelerate cellular repair." He demonstrated on a synthetic sample of skin, running the wand over it as a shimmering light pulsed, healing a cut within seconds. "In severe injuries, Aetherium regeneration could mean the difference between survival and permanent disability."

The professor's tone grew reverent as he introduced Bio-Aether Synthesis. "Bio-Aether Synthesis is on the forefront of our field," he explained. "Using Aetherium, we're able to grow organs, replace tissues, even construct limbs that function like natural parts of the body. Imagine—regrowing a lost limb, repairing a damaged organ with bioengineered tissues, or even growing an entire new human healthy body."

As the words left Lillian's mouth, Nate's hand instinctively moved to his chest, pressing against the spot where his core pulsed faintly beneath the surface. He was living proof of Lillian's lecture, a creation that transcended mortal limits, yet bound by them. For a moment, he felt exposed, as though Lillian's words had brought him into a new light—a specimen in front of the class rather than a student.

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Professor Lillian gestured to another device, a gleaming surgical tool. "Aether-Enhanced Surgical Instruments allow us to perform precise incisions. With Aether-infused scalpels, we minimize damage to surrounding tissues, which accelerates healing." He demonstrated, guiding the scalpel on a synthetic organ. "Holographic Surgical Guides," he added, "provide projections of the patient's anatomy, offering real-time guidance."

A holographic image of a heart appeared, overlaid with detailed diagrams. "This guide helps surgeons navigate complex procedures without second-guessing their decisions."

Turning to the last part of the lesson, Lillian spoke of patient care. "Aether-Supported Physical Therapy and Mind-Aether Integration are critical in rehabilitation. We use enchanted equipment that emits Aetherium energy, helping patients regain strength, movement, and, through Mind-Aether, even mental clarity."

As he demonstrated with a few enchanted tools, Professor Lillian's tone turned somber. "But with these powers come ethical concerns. We have the means to heal, but also the means to manipulate and harm. The potential for abuse is real, and AetherTech must be applied with the utmost caution."

He looked out at the class, his eyes intense. "One wrong spell, one unregulated technique, and we risk causing irreparable harm. We're here to protect life, not control it."

Professor Lillian paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle. "Any questions?"

Nate raised his hand, his voice steady but filled with curiosity. "Is there a safeguard against these devices being misused? Or against students who are forced into... compliance, with magic?"

Professor Lillian's gaze flickered. "Safeguards exist, yes, but they're only as reliable as those who enforce them. The truth is, in the wrong hands, this technology and magic can be twisted. It's our responsibility—especially yours, as the next generation of AetherTech practitioners—to uphold ethical standards."

A long black haired student spoke up next, her voice resolute. "So, Professor, if these tools and techniques are being used to heal, why aren't they more widely available? Why are Blanks always denied access to these benefits?" Her question was met with murmurs of agreement.

A shadow crossed Lillian's face. "It's a complex issue, AetherTech Medicine is expensive to produce, and there are those who believe such resources should be reserved... selectively. It's not right. That's one of the very problems I hope your generation can change."

A female student on the second upper level spoke up next. "Could any of this actually have helped Susana?"

There was pure silence in the room, being broken only by Professor Lillian's words. "Not only could have, but it did."

"What do you mean?" That same student on the second floor asked

"I mean that Miss Bently is doing better, no doubt thanks to the efforts of Mr Davis, and Mr Melnic to be sure, but the fact that she got treatment when she did at our healing wards proved crucial as well."

"So, she is alive?" The long black-haired student asked.

"Well... She is in a coma, and healers do not actually know when and or if she will ever regain her consciousness." Professor Lillian replies.

There are gasps of shock, disgust and terror across the classroom.

"Is there anything that can be done? For example, with this Aether Medicine and such?" Nate asked

"Unfortunately, we do not know. Her family is unable to pay and or sustain the treatment. However, Miss Melnic and Miss Arundel have been instrumental in aiding in her potential recovery. They have been going to the hospital whenever they can spare the time to work on undoing the damage that whatever Miss Bently drank did to her system."

This time the noise that echoed across the room was one of admiration, and both Nate and Anton smile to themselves proudly.

As the lesson wound down, Professor Lillian offered a final thought. "AetherTech Medicine has the power to transform our society—if used responsibly. I challenge each of you to consider how you will apply what you've learned. To be a healer, a protector, rather than a force of control."

The students sat in contemplative silence, the gravity of his words settling over them. The last image on the holographic board was that of a beating heart, infused with vibrant Aetherium—a symbol of life, fragile yet resilient, echoing the challenge Lillian had laid before them.

As Nate and Anton stepped out of Professor Lillian's class, the shift in the academy's atmosphere felt palpable. The grounds, usually buzzing with activity, seemed muted. Blanks moved quietly, retreating deeper into themselves, avoiding eye contact even with each other. Voiders were hardly visible, practically phasing into the walls, as if trying to erase their very presence. And the Marks, while still exuding their usual aura of superiority, moved more cautiously, as though treading on cracked ice.

Anton and Nate exchanged a glance, the unspoken understanding between them saying enough about the change around them. Together, they began making their way to the Mark's cafeteria, hoping to catch Irina and Elysia there.

As they passed through the halls, the weight of the academy's collective silence followed them. It wasn't until they were halfway to the cafeteria that a familiar voice broke through.

"Hey! You two always walking so fast—try slowing down a bit," Evan Parker called, jogging to catch up with them.

Nate smirked, nodding to Evan as he approached. Though neither he nor Anton had formed a particularly deep opinion about him, Evan's presence had become almost comforting, the more allies, the better, after all.

Hey, Evan," Anton said with a faint nod. "You coming to grab some food?"

Evan nodded, grinning. "Figured I'd join the party. Not every day I get to sit with the infamous duo." He winked at Nate, who rolled his eyes, though a slight smirk tugged at his lips.

"Look at you being so yaay the world is saved, who knew you could be like that. From our first encounter where I saw beat the shit out the Marks to you being all smug about the 'It's not about impressing people, It's survival. Plain and simple.' Nate mimics him.

"Oh, leave off, would you? He complains, embarrassed. "It's still true.

"I know I know I'm just messing with ya mate." Nate says patting him on the back.

They entered the Mark's cafeteria together, where the usual cliques clustered in their preferred spots. However, even here, something felt different—an air of unease lingered, and glances were shared as though everyone were silently assessing potential threats.

As the three of them picked a table, Nate noticed that several pairs of eyes seemed to be focused on a lone figure seated by the far wall. She was tall, composed, and strikingly beautiful, with dark brown hair cascading over her shoulders, framing her face with a soft elegance that seemed out of place amid the cold atmosphere of NovaMyst. She wore the standard NovaMyst uniform for female Marks—a sleek black suit adorned with sharp, silver detailing, paired with the symbolic white cape that draped over her shoulder, marking her status unmistakably. Her gaze was distant, and there was a subtle tension in her posture, as if she knew she was being watched but was determined to ignore it.

Evan leaned closer to Nate and Anton, nodding subtly in her direction. "That's Sophia Bently. Susana's older sister."

"Susana's sister?" Anton's eyebrows rose slightly, his eyes flickering with recognition. "Didn't know she was a Mark."

"Most don't," Evan replied in a low tone. "But it's hard to miss her now. Ever since... well, you know. Even the other Marks seem to avoid her."

Nate watched her for a moment, something pulling at him. Perhaps it was the memory of Susana's broken form in his arms, or maybe it was the hollow look in Sophia's eyes—a mirror of grief that he understood all too well. He nudged Anton and Evan. "Let's go sit with her."

As they approached her table, Sophia glanced up, her gaze unreadable but sharp. Her eyes, a mix of guarded suspicion and exhaustion, lingered on each of them, assessing.

"Mind if we join you?" Nate asked with a slight, disarming smile. "I have this strange habit of sitting with lonely people. Call it... a bad habit."

Sophia's expression didn't soften, but she inclined her head, gesturing to the empty seats. "If you insist," she replied, her voice cool and laced with a subtle edge. Her eyes flickered over Nate, then to Anton, as if trying to gauge their motives.

They settled around the table, and Anton rose again to grab some food. Evan grinned after him. "Hey, Anton, you're already up—mind bringing me a plate, too?"

Nate joined in, smirking. "Yeah, I'd go myself, but you know how it is. Hunger makes me lazy."

As Anton walked away, Nate called out, "Thanks, Anton!"

Sophia's eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze sharp as she processed the name. "Anton... as in Anton Melnic?" she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and intrigue.

When Anton returned with the plates, Sophia abruptly rose from her seat, surprising them all. Before he could react, she reached over and pulled him into a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for... for saving my sister."

Anton froze, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected embrace. For a moment, he stood stiffly, his gaze flicking downward, almost as though he were trying to find an escape. He shifted his weight awkwardly, his arms hovering in mid-air before he finally, tentatively, patted her shoulder, his touch light and almost mechanical.

"It's... really nothing," he murmured, his usual calm faltering just slightly. "I didn't do it alone," he added quickly, pulling back as soon as he could. He averted his gaze, brushing a hand through his hair in a rare moment of visible discomfort, his face carefully blank but his eyes betraying a hint of unease. He gestured subtly toward Nate. "He was the one who carried her to the infirmary."

Nate smirked, unable to resist the chance. "Yeah, Anton here's got a thing for sisters."

Evan reached out, giving Nate a playful smack on the back of his head, muttering, "Not the time, mate." Anton shot Nate a deadpan glare, though a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth hinted at amusement.

Sophia turned her attention to Nate, her eyes softening slightly as she studied him. "Thank you," she said quietly, her voice tinged with the same vulnerability he'd sensed in Susana.

Nate waved it off with a modest shrug, though a glint of humour touched his expression. "Well, to be fair, the ones who really deserve the praise are Irina and Elysia." He paused, but before he could elaborate, Sophia cut in.

"They've been going to the hospital whenever they can," she said softly. "I'd... I'd like to thank them in person, if that's possible."

Nate's mind started racing, the hint of an idea forming. He'd been trying to arrange a council meeting for weeks but kept getting postponed, and he hadn't seen Elysia in nearly an entire month. Maybe, just maybe, Sophia's presence would give him the leverage he needed.

"Actually," he began, glancing at Anton with a grin, "I think I could take you to the council meeting. They wouldn't dare refuse if you're with me."

Anton raised an eyebrow at him, and Nate turned, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "I also have another idea... but I'm going to need your help with it."

Evan chuckled, shaking his head in mock exasperation. "Oh no... here we go. Don't get me in too deep this time, alright?"

Nate shot him a playful glare. "Come on, where's the trust, Evan?"

"Probably lost somewhere between your last two insane ideas," Evan replied, grinning.

Sophia watched their exchange with a faint, wistful smile, her guarded expression softening, revealing the faint cracks in her armor. For the first time, Nate saw past her resilience, catching a glimpse of the burden she carried—the weight of survival, of loyalty and loss in a world that barely allowed such luxuries.

With the tentative plan beginning to take shape in his mind, Nate looked back at Sophia, determination hardening in his gaze. She deserved to see her sister's rescuers, to thank those who'd risked it all—and he'd make sure the council wouldn't deny her that chance.

The four of them rose from the table together, ready to make their way to the student council room. As they walked through the cafeteria, heads turned, and the usual whispers followed their steps, but they kept moving, ignoring the stares. Sophia walked a little closer to Anton, her expression guarded yet grateful, while Nate and Evan led the way with their usual confidence.

Just as they were about to exit, a sneering voice called out from a nearby table, dripping with malice. "Yeah, bitch, go back to your whore of a sister."

The words hung in the air, and the four of them halted, each of them momentarily frozen by the sheer audacity of the insult. Nate and Anton exchanged tense glances, their postures stiffening as the venom of the words sank in. Sophia's eyes darkened, a flicker of pain barely concealed beneath her controlled expression, while Evan's face twisted into a deadly scowl.

There was a heartbeat of silence—a moment where everyone in the cafeteria seemed to hold their breath.

Then, with a sharp, determined movement, Evan reached for his Restricted CAT device. The air buzzed with a charged anticipation as he raised his hand, activating it with a flick of his wrist. The device flared to life, glowing as it channelled his intent, forming a complex Aether Script in the air before him. The symbols coalesced and shifted, taking shape in a flash of crackling blue energy.

Evan was casting Electrostatic Manipulation.

With practiced ease, he summoned a mass of electric charge within his hand, manipulating the polarity and magnitude with deadly precision. Sparks danced around his fingers, the air around him humming as he exerted control over the forces between the charges. He visualized the path—directing it with pinpoint accuracy—ionizing the air along the way to form a plasma channel, a direct conduit to his target.

The air crackled, vibrating with latent energy, and then—

CRACK!

A bolt of lightning shot from his hand, racing through the air with an explosive force. It struck the Mark who'd spoken, hitting him square in the chest. The raw energy of the lightning slammed into him, launching him backwards across the cafeteria. He crashed into a table, scattering plates and silverware as he fell in a heap, smoke curling from his clothes as he lay dazed and motionless, the lingering electric charge buzzing faintly around him.

The entire cafeteria went silent, all eyes locked on Evan as he lowered his hand, his expression dark and menacing. He looked back at the Mark with a cold, unyielding glare, his voice sharp enough to cut through the heavy silence.

"Next one goes through your fucking face," he warned, his tone icy.

The Mark, now hunched and breathing heavily, managed to sit up, his face twisted in fear and humiliation. His gaze darted away, too shaken to offer any retort.

Nate glanced at Evan, one eyebrow raised in approval, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Anton, ever composed, watched Evan with a mixture of surprise and faint amusement, though he said nothing, his face returning to its usual stoic calm.

Sophia looked at Evan with a mixture of awe and something resembling gratitude, her gaze softening as the tension in her posture eased. "Thank you," she murmured, the words barely audible but carrying weight.

Evan shrugged, slipping his CAT device back into his pocket as he gave her a casual nod. "Nobody deserves that kind of shit," he muttered, his tone still carrying an edge of irritation. He glanced at Nate, who gave him an approving clap on the shoulder.

With the hostile gazes in the cafeteria now directed away from Sophia and firmly on Evan, the four of them turned and walked out of the cafeteria, leaving the murmurs and whispers in their wake.

The four of them reached the student council room, a pair of grand double doors looming in front of them, marked with the emblem of NovaMyst. Nate glanced at his companions—Anton, Sophia, and Evan—before shooting them a quick grin and, without a moment's hesitation, he pushed the doors open with a dramatic flourish, striding inside as if he owned the place.

The doors banged against the walls, and every head in the room snapped up, startled by the sudden intrusion. Papers rustled, a few pens clattered to the floor, and a chorus of gasps echoed around the council chamber. At the head of the table, Chloe herself jumped, her eyes widening in surprise as she locked eyes with Nate.

Nate leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a smirk, his tone dripping with mischief. "Heeey, Chloe, did ya miss me?"