The throne room pulsed with sound.
Bass thunder rolled through the ancient stone chamber like a second heartbeat, shaking the long banners that hung from the vaulted ceiling. Colored lights spun across the walls in restless circles, flashing red, blue, violet, then white again as the DJ layered track after track into the roaring speakers.
Students filled the space shoulder to shoulder.
Some danced wildly in the center of the floor, others leaned against pillars laughing with drinks in hand, and a few had climbed onto the broad steps leading toward the old ceremonial throne platform where the music equipment had been set up.
The entire hall had transformed into something almost unrecognizable.
A storm of laughter, movement, and flashing light.
Bryce stood near the front of the DJ booth, caught in the current of it all.
His shirt clung slightly to his back from sweat, his hair messier now from hours of dancing, and a loose grin stretched across his face as he shouted along with the chorus of the song blasting through the hall.
Around him Morris and several other students moved in chaotic rhythm, bumping shoulders and spinning each other around in ridiculous improvised dance moves.
Morris had both arms raised above his head, chanting lyrics he clearly only half remembered while two other students laughed and tried to mimic his terrible rhythm.
Bryce laughed with them.
The alcohol humming lightly in his veins softened the sharp edges of the night.
The music helped too.
It filled every corner of the room, every corner of his mind.
For a little while it made things easier.
Bryce tilted his head back and sang the final line of the chorus with the crowd just as the bass dropped again.
Then something vibrated against his leg.
At first he ignored it.
His phone had buzzed dozens of times throughout the night with random group chats and festival photos. Normally he left it alone during moments like this.
But this vibration was different.
Short.
Distinct.
Intentional.
Bryce felt it again through the fabric of his pocket.
His brow furrowed slightly.
He reached down and pulled the phone out.
Even through the thunder of the music he recognized the pattern immediately.
He had set specific notifications for certain contacts. Different vibrations. Different tones. It helped him filter out the noise when things got chaotic.
And this one was unmistakable.
The principal.
Bryce stepped slightly away from the DJ booth lights and glanced down at the screen.
A message sat waiting.
He opened it quickly, the bright text illuminating his face as the music roared behind him.
His eyes scanned the message once.
Then again.
The principal had sent a short update regarding the fireworks show.
After discussing things further with the pyrotechnics team, they had decided it would be safer for students to remain inside the castle rather than gathering in the courtyard for the display. The fireworks were still going ahead as planned, but the viewing would now happen from inside through the castle's many windows and skylights.
The final detail sat at the bottom of the message.
All exterior doors would be locked once the show began.
Bryce nodded slowly to himself.
That made sense.
With this many students gathered in one place, crowd control outside the walls would have been a nightmare.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned toward the DJ.
The DJ noticed him immediately.
Bryce gestured toward the microphone.
The DJ lowered the volume slightly and handed it over without question.
Bryce stepped forward and lifted the mic.
His voice echoed loudly through the room.
"Alright everyone, hold up a second!"
The music faded down enough for the crowd to notice.
Dozens of students turned toward the stage area.
Others slowed their dancing, curious.
Bryce raised one hand slightly.
"I've got a quick update from the principal."
The room quieted just enough for him to continue.
"The fireworks are almost ready."
That alone triggered a wave of cheers.
Bryce laughed lightly and waited a second before continuing.
"But there's a small change to the plan."
He glanced across the crowd.
"The pyro team decided it's not safe to have everyone out in the courtyard for the show."
A few confused murmurs rippled through the room.
Bryce lifted the mic again.
"So we'll be watching the fireworks from inside the castle."
He gestured broadly toward the tall windows lining the throne room walls.
"There are plenty of windows and skylights here and around the halls."
His voice lifted with excitement.
"And the show starts in less than fifteen minutes."
The murmurs immediately turned into cheers again.
Students clapped and shouted toward the stage.
Bryce smiled.
"One more thing," he added.
"Once the show starts, the exterior doors are going to be locked for safety."
He shrugged casually.
"So if you need fresh air, now's your chance."
That earned a few laughs.
Bryce lowered the microphone and handed it back to the DJ.
The music surged back to full volume almost immediately.
The party exploded back into motion.
Bryce stepped away from the stage again, watching the crowd for a moment.
Everyone looked happy.
Excited.
The promise of fireworks had only fueled the energy already swirling through the room.
Bryce folded his arms briefly as he observed them.
Then he exhaled slowly.
The excitement around him suddenly felt distant.
Like he had stepped half a pace outside the moment.
He watched Morris jump into another ridiculous dance circle and shake his shoulders dramatically while students around him cheered.
Bryce smiled faintly.
But the urge to keep dancing had faded.
He felt tired.
Not physically.
Just done.
He slipped quietly toward the edge of the room, weaving through the crowd as students continued celebrating around him.
No one really noticed.
The music remained too loud.
The lights too distracting.
By the time he reached the tall archway leading into the castle corridors, the throne room had already swallowed his absence.
Bryce stepped into the dim hallway beyond.
And disappeared into the castle.
Far beyond the castle walls, the night remained silent.
The small inlet on the southern side of the island rested in deep shadow, hidden from the bright lights of the festival raging inside the academy.
Cassius stood among his men, watching the distant towers rise against the moonlit sky.
Everything was in place.
He turned toward the group gathered around him.
"Time to begin."
His voice was calm.
Measured.
Six of the men immediately stepped forward.
They already knew their assignments.
Cassius had laid out the entire operation hours earlier.
Three moved left along the outer wall.
Three moved right.
Their job was simple.
Secure the perimeter.
Make sure no students wandered outside the walls while the operation was underway.
And eliminate anyone who did.
The rest of the group remained with Cassius.
A dozen men in dark clothing.
Not elite soldiers.
Not special forces.
Just hardened mercenaries willing to follow a dangerous plan for the right price.
Cassius adjusted the collar of his brown leather coat as he began walking toward the shadowed loading point along the castle wall.
He still wore the same clothes he had arrived in earlier that day.
Brown leather jacket.
Black shirt.
Black cargo pants.
The only difference now was the absence of his hat.
The night air brushed against his hair as he moved.
The men followed him silently.
Ahead of them, faint lantern light flickered along the courtyard walls where the pyrotechnicians continued setting up their fireworks racks.
Cassius slowed his pace as they approached the shadowed corner near the southern supply crates.
This was the entrance the scouts had discovered.
The outer storage access point.
He gestured toward the crates.
Two of the men stepped forward and quietly began moving them aside.
Wood scraped softly against stone.
Behind the crates, a narrow door revealed itself.
One of the men pulled it open slowly.
Darkness waited beyond.
Cassius nodded.
They moved inside.
The passage smelled faintly of dust and old stone.
They advanced carefully through the storage area, stepping around stacks of crates and supply racks until they reached the inner door the scouts had described.
Another man cleared away the boxes blocking it.
The heavy door creaked open.
A staircase descended into darkness.
Night vision goggles flickered on across the group.
Green light filled their lenses.
Cassius drew his sidearm and gestured forward.
They descended.
Step by step.
The staircase spiraled down into the underground levels of the castle.
And finally opened into a massive chamber.
The underground storage vault.
The men spread out slightly as they entered.
Then stopped.
The room was empty.
Not partially empty.
Not mostly empty.
Completely empty.
Bare stone walls.
Bare floors.
No artifacts.
No crates.
No treasures.
Nothing.
A confused murmur spread through the group.
"What the hell is this?"
One man lowered his rifle.
"You said the treasure was here."
Another stepped forward, scanning the empty chamber.
"Cassius, what is this?"
Frustration began creeping into their voices.
Some of them glanced toward him with suspicion.
"Did you lie to us?"
Cassius said nothing.
His eyes slowly scanned the massive chamber.
Then the lights came on.
One after another.
Rows of ceiling lamps flickered to life across the chamber until the entire vault filled with bright white illumination.
Every man turned toward the far end of the room.
Someone stood there.
A lone figure.
Draped in a dark cloak.
A hood covered most of the face beneath it.
In the figure's hands rested a staff.
Its shape looked ancient.
Gnarled wood twisted upward like frozen vines coiling around a central shaft. At the top, the wood curved into a claw-like formation that cradled a glowing cerulean orb pulsing faintly with quiet energy.
The mercenaries raised their rifles immediately.
Shock rippled through them.
The figure had appeared so silently that none of them had noticed her presence.
When she spoke, her voice was calm.
Mature.
Controlled.
"I apologize," she said gently.
Her tone carried almost polite regret.
"But the treasures in this chamber were removed earlier today."
The men tightened their grips on their weapons.
"In preparation for your arrival."
Outside the castle walls, a pyrotechnician checked his phone.
A new message had appeared from the principal.
'Start the show now.'
He frowned slightly.
"Weren't we supposed to wait until eleven?" another technician asked.
The first man shrugged.
"Boss says start."
He lifted the igniter.
"Let's light it."
They sparked the fuse.
Back in the underground vault, the mercenaries opened fire.
Gunshots erupted through the chamber.
At the exact same moment the first fireworks exploded above the castle.
Thunder cracked across the sky.
Inside the vault the hooded woman lifted her staff.
Blue symbols burst into existence before her.
Runic glyphs spun rapidly into a perfect circle of glowing energy. Another circle formed behind it, the two rings hovering inches apart as concentric lines pulsed between them.
Bullets struck the barrier.
Each round slowed instantly as it passed through the first ring, sinking into the glowing surface like pebbles falling into thick honey.
None reached the second circle.
They hovered there.
Suspended.
Every single one.
The mercenaries emptied their magazines.
The barrier held effortlessly.
Then the woman flicked her staff.
The runic circles vanished.
Dozens of bullets clattered harmlessly onto the stone floor.
Silence returned.
Outside, fireworks thundered against the sky.
The hooded woman tilted her head slightly.
"My turn."