Seven days.
That was what they gave us.
Seven days inside Academy 3 while the lizard eyes were processed into equipment. Seven days of pretending we were just another group of students waiting for a trade to finish.
Seven days to find my sister.
We searched quietly.
Too quietly.
We checked summoner quarters. Holding areas. Lower workshops where people avoided eye contact. We asked questions in ways that didn't sound like questions. We listened to rumors, half-truths, sudden silences.
No Monisha.
No trace.
Every time I heard footsteps behind me, my chest tightened. Every time I thought I saw her silhouette, it dissolved into someone else.
My luck—whatever fragile thing had carried us this far—was thinning.
On the third day, the academy changed.
Not visibly. Not at first.
But people stood straighter. Guards doubled. Summoners were pulled off work early and locked away. Even the forges quieted, as if the place itself was holding its breath.
Then the announcement came.
The voice echoed through every corridor, every chamber, every sealed hall.
"Attention all personnel. A VIP buyer will arrive shortly. Prepare designated areas for inspection and transfer."
My hands clenched into fists.
The Queen.
Aira looked at me, fear written openly on her face. "That's her."
Kazim swore under his breath. "We're out of time."
The buyer arrived that evening.
No convoy. No parade.
Just one man walking through the main gate like it already belonged to him.
He was tall, wrapped in dark, layered clothing that looked ceremonial rather than practical. His hair was pulled back neatly, face sharp and composed. He didn't smile. Didn't need to.
People moved out of his way instinctively.
This wasn't someone who demanded respect.
This was someone the world had learned to fear.
"That's him," Ren whispered. "Roman Denvor."
The man stopped briefly near the forge, inspecting half-finished weapons without touching them. His eyes—cold, precise—flicked toward the summoner pits.
I felt it then.
Not power.
Presence.
Like the air around him bent slightly.
"Unfinished work is unacceptable," he said calmly. "But I'm patient."
Patient.
The word made my skin crawl.
That night, we didn't sleep.
On the third day, we finally learned the truth.
Not from a guard.
Not from a summoner.
From a ledger.
Kazim got access for less than ten seconds—barely enough.
Queen: Transfer scheduled.
Location: Restricted wing.
Time: Four days.
Four days.
My vision blurred.
"She's still here," Aira whispered. "That means—"
"That means she's alive," I said. "For now."
But alive didn't mean safe.
Alive meant waiting.
Waiting to be taken apart.
I leaned against the cold wall, breathing hard, thoughts crashing into each other.
Seven days inside the academy.
Four days left.
No sister.
A buyer who had already claimed her.
And for the first time since this journey began, I felt something worse than fear.
I felt late.