Instead, the entire lecture hall sang.
A low, vibrating C-major note rolled through the air, deep enough to settle into bone. The floating stone discs responded instantly, drifting outward in smooth arcs until they aligned along the edges of the chamber.
Class was over.
Kaelen didn't move right away.
His fingers still tingled from the Resonance Sphere. Not pain—something sharper. Like his nerves had remembered too much in too little time.
"Don't rush," Liora said beside him, calm as ever while the rest of the room filled with cautious chatter. "Next is Aetheric Botany in the West Glass-House. Then Combat Calculus."
Kaelen exhaled slowly. "Do we ever just… sit and read?"
"This is the Brilliant Tier."
The answer came from behind.
Serafine Vane stepped past them, arms full of books that hummed softly—some whispering, some almost… arguing.
"Reading is for the Standard Tier," she added without looking up. "Here, we deal with consequences."
That didn't sound reassuring.
The Sky-Bridge stretched ahead of them—clear, weightless, and suspended over nothing.
Kaelen kept his eyes forward.
Just forward.
Because one glance down was enough to see the entire world carved into glowing lines—ley currents threading across the land, all converging toward the Spire like veins feeding a single, greedy heart.
He didn't like how alive it looked.
The West Glass-House was worse.
Heat hit him first. Then humidity. Then color.
Everywhere.
Massive flowers pulsed like breathing lanterns. Vines hung from above, thick and coiled, their surfaces flickering as they siphoned stray mana from the air.
It wasn't a greenhouse.
It was a controlled ecosystem of hunger.
"Today," Professor Thorne announced, her voice soft but impossible to ignore, "you will harmonize with a life-form."
Her willow-branch hair shifted as she moved, leaves brushing against each other with a faint whisper.
"You will feed it a sliver of your Aether. If your resonance is pure, it blooms. If it is unstable…" A faint smile curved her lips. "Do try to keep all your fingers."
That didn't sound like a joke.
Mina Veridian went first.
Of course she did.
The moment her hand touched the Solar-Snapdragon, green light poured from her palm—steady, vibrant, alive. The plant reacted instantly, bursting open into radiant gold petals that shimmered like sunlight made solid.
A soft melody followed.
"Excellent," Thorne said. "Perfect resonance."
Kaelen already knew what would happen when his turn came.
Still, he stepped forward.
The silence behind him felt heavier than before.
Not curiosity anymore.
Expectation.
A Null… touching a mana-feeding plant.
Something had to give.
He raised his hand.
Stopped.
The Snapdragon's leaves twitched slightly, sensing him.
Hungry.
Always hungry.
Kaelen hesitated, then closed his eyes for a brief second.
Oakhaven.
Rain-soaked soil. Quiet mornings. The scent of jasmine drifting through open air.
Not power.
Peace.
When he opened his eyes again, he didn't push anything forward.
He simply… reached.
The moment his fingers touched the leaf—
The plant changed.
Not violently.
Not dramatically.
But completely.
The vibrant green faded into a soft, translucent silver. The pulsing glow dimmed, slowed… and then stopped entirely.
The hunger disappeared.
Just like that.
The Snapdragon didn't bloom.
It rested.
For the first time in its existence, it wasn't reaching for more.
It was… full.
Professor Thorne stepped closer, her expression sharpening.
"You didn't feed it," she murmured. "You canceled its hunger."
A ripple of unease spread through the class.
"He's cheating!"
"He's just killing the magic!"
"Silence."
One word. Absolute.
Thorne didn't even raise her voice, but it cut through everything.
She studied the plant for another second before straightening.
"To still a Siphon-plant requires control most of you won't achieve for decades," she said. "Pass, Mr. Kaelen."
A pause.
"Barely."
By the time class ended, Kaelen felt drained.
Not physically.
Something deeper.
Being watched. Measured. Misunderstood.
Again and again.
The Refectory of Stars didn't help.
It was beautiful, sure—silver platters appearing out of thin air, constellations glowing faintly above, long tables divided by status more than space.
But to Kaelen—
It was noise.
Too much mana. Too many active spells. Too many small enchantments flickering at once.
It felt like standing inside a storm made of needles.
He found a quiet table near a pillar and sat down quickly, focusing on something simple.
Bread.
Just bread.
"Is this seat taken?"
Kaelen looked up.
Mina Veridian stood there, her wooden butterfly fluttering eagerly. Serafine was already pulling out a chair before he could answer.
"I… no. It's free."
"Good," Mina said, sitting down immediately. "Tell me how you did that."
Kaelen blinked. "Did what?"
"The plant," she said. "You didn't feed it. You didn't break it either. You just… stopped it."
Kaelen thought for a moment.
"I didn't try to give it anything," he said slowly. "Everything here feels loud. I think it was just… tired."
Serafine adjusted her glasses. "Void as a Quiet-Zone instead of a Vacuum," she murmured. "That has… applications."
"Or consequences."
The voice was cold enough to freeze the air.
Tyson Solis.
Standing right behind them.
Arm still in a sling. Eyes still burning.
Not alone this time.
"Tyson," Mina said, her tone sharpening. "Don't—"
"I don't care what the Headmaster said," Tyson cut in, leaning forward. The water in Kaelen's glass began to steam.
"You got lucky in the duel," he continued. "But here? There's no one to protect you when your trick fails."
Kaelen didn't look up.
Instead, he looked at the sling.
At the mana threads holding it together.
At the flaw.
One small snap—and everything would unravel.
His fingers tightened slightly.
No.
Be the night.
"Your sling is wrong," Kaelen said quietly.
Tyson paused.
"What?"
"The healing loop," Kaelen continued. "It's too tight at the elbow. If it keeps cycling like that, your casting hand will develop a tremor."
Silence.
Tyson looked down at his arm, then back at Kaelen.
That… wasn't the reaction he expected.
"You think you're better than us?" Tyson snapped.
Kaelen finally met his eyes.
"I think you're loud."
For a single second—
The violet ring in Kaelen's eyes flared.
The steam vanished.
Not faded.
Gone.
Pulled into a single, invisible point between them.
The air turned cold.
Sharp.
Tyson opened his mouth—
And nothing came out.
No sound.
No voice.
Just silence.
Then it snapped back.
"Let's go," Tyson said immediately, his voice unsteady now.
Not angry.
Not confident.
Shaken.
He turned and left without another word.
His followers didn't hesitate to follow.
Mina stared.
Serafine didn't stop writing.
"You just silenced a Solis heir mid-sentence," she said. "That's… going to require explanation."
Kaelen let his head fall onto the table.
"I just want to survive Combat Calculus."
Mina laughed softly. "Then you're in trouble."
He didn't even lift his head.
"Why?"
"Because," she said, grinning, "the professor is Tyson's uncle."
Kaelen groaned.
The day wasn't even halfway over.
And somehow—
The silence inside him felt louder than everything else combined.