Chapter 123: The Magnus Heir

Alvian stopped breathing for a moment.

’There it is.’

He read the notification aloud.

Serah’s eyes widened.

Tobias stopped laughing.

Neither spoke until Alvian finished.

Then Serah slowly sat down.

"So your System isn’t simply creating stronger abilities."

"It’s restoring access to abilities my damaged Talent couldn’t reach."

"And the multipliers?"

"They accelerate the process."

Tobias scratched his beard.

"Sounds like somebody built a repair tool and decided to put a casino inside it."

Alvian gave him a look.

"That’s surprisingly accurate."

Serah reopened the ancient research.

"If the Cataclysm damaged the dimensional structure, and your System was designed to repair those connections, then there’s another problem."

She highlighted the section showing the damaged dimensional layers.

"The damage hasn’t disappeared. It’s still everywhere."

Alvian understood immediately.

"The World Will."

Tobias’s expression hardened.

"The thing that sent those Fate Enforcers after you?"

"Yes."

Alvian opened his World Will status.

[Ding!]

[World Will Status: Monitoring]

[Current Classification: Creation-tolerant]

[Dimensional restoration activities detected]

[Local structural stability: Maintained]

[Warning: Large-scale interface restoration may trigger renewed evaluation]

Serah looked at him.

"What does it say?"

He repeated the notification.

She frowned.

"Why would repairing damaged dimensional connections trigger a warning?"

"That’s the question."

Tobias leaned forward.

"Maybe whatever’s running the World Will doesn’t want the damage repaired."

Serah considered that.

"The Architects of Fate?"

"Possibly," Alvian said. "We still don’t know exactly who they are."

"But if they control the World Will, and the World Will keeps trying to stop changes to dimensional structure..."

She didn’t finish.

She didn’t need to.

Alvian remembered the Fate Enforcers.

The probability distortion warnings.

The punishment for using abilities that exceeded conventional limits.

’What if the World Will isn’t simply protecting reality?’

’What if it’s protecting the damaged version of reality?’

The idea was unpleasant.

Because it meant every major improvement he made could threaten something far larger than the Crown.

Serah tapped the old research.

"There’s still a lot we can’t prove. We don’t know who damaged the connections deliberately, if anyone did. We don’t know who built your System. And we definitely don’t know what the Architects actually want."

"Then we find out," Alvian said.

Tobias glanced toward the map still buried beneath the screens.

"The archive."

Alvian nodded.

"The pre-Cataclysm archive below the Warrens. Whoever built that place might have recorded what happened."

Serah brought up the final ancient diagram.

The repaired connections formed a complete network around the human figure.

She stared at it for a long moment.

Then she asked something neither man had considered.

"If your System is repairing the damage caused by the Cataclysm, what happens when it’s finished?"

Alvian looked at her.

"What?"

"When every damaged connection is repaired. When the dimensional structure is restored. When there’s nothing left to fix."

Tobias frowned.

Serah continued.

"Does the System shut down? Does the World Will accept the changes? Or does restoring everything trigger something worse?"

Alvian checked the interface.

No answer appeared.

He tried again.

’System. What happens when dimensional restoration is complete?’

[Ding!]

[Inquiry exceeds current authorization]

[Required information unavailable]

[Version 4.0: Sovereignty Tier]

[Unlock Progress: 1/2 Conditions Met]

[Additional information may become accessible through future evolution]

"Well?" Serah asked.

"It won’t tell me."

"Great."

She leaned back in her chair.

"We’ve discovered that the entire Talent ranking system is wrong, the Cataclysm damaged everyone’s dimensional connections, and your mysterious System is trying to repair them."

Tobias reached for his cold coffee.

"And the people running reality might not appreciate the repairs."

"Exactly."

"Lovely morning."

Before anyone could speak again, the communication crystal on Tobias’s desk vibrated.

A name appeared across its surface.

HELEN CROFT.

┌──────[ Profile]──────┐\

│ [Host]: Alvian Vance\

│ [Level]: 70\

│ [Talent]: Clearwater/Dissolution/Reformation [Unique]\

│ [Skills]: Genesis Forge [S-RANK]\

│ Abyssal Dissolution Domain [S-RANK]\

│ Void Step: Annihilation [S-RANK]\

│ Severing Void Edge [S-RANK]\

│ Dissolution of Form [CONCEPTUAL]\

│ Clearwater Palm [D-Rank, Enhanced]\

│ [Weapon Mastery]: Short-Sword [MAXIMUM, evolved]\

│ [STR]: 530 | [AGI]: 290 | [VIT]: 855\

│ [INT]: 215 | [Essence]: 287\

│ [Karma Points]: 53\

│ [EXP Bank]: \~4,737,100\

│ [World Will]: Monitoring (creation-tolerant)\

│ [System Version]: 3.0 → 4.0 (1/2 conditions met)\

│ [HP]: 1,710/1,710\

│ [Genesis Forge]: Apprentice\

│ [Patients Healed]: 231\

│ [Creation EXP]: \~849,100\

│ [Array Status]: SELF-SUSTAINING\

│ [Alliance Status]: 3 GUILDS ALIGNED, REFORMING\

│ [Bounty Status]: FORMALLY VOIDED\

│ [Criminal Charges]: DISMISSED\

│ [Crown Posture]: WATCHING, WAITING\

│ [Dimensional Connectivity]: 7 LAYERS RESTORED\

│ [System Classification]: RESTORATION PROTOCOL\

│ [System Origin]: RESTRICTED\

│ [Version 4.0 Condition 2]: IN PROGRESS\

│ [Next Priority]: PRE-CATACLYSM ARCHIVE INVESTIGATION\

└─────────────────┘

—-

The name on Tobias’s communication crystal kept flashing.

HELEN CROFT.

Tobias glanced at the crystal. "Another Academy building blow up?"

"Don’t give her ideas." Alvian touched the crystal. "Instructor Croft?"

"Vance. Are you somewhere private?"

Alvian turned Serah’s seven-layer diagram facedown. "Private enough. What’s wrong?"

"Nothing’s attacking us, for once." Helen sounded tired. "I need you at the Academy. There’s a student asking to see you."

"Tell him to book an appointment with the healing wing."

"It’s Darius Magnus."

Tobias stopped reaching for his coffee. Serah’s fingers froze over her pad.

Helen continued before Alvian could answer. "He’s asked three times. I turned him away twice. Today he came to my office and said he’d wait outside until you answered. He wants to talk. Says he has something to say to you."

Alvian stared at the crystal. ’Darius? What the hell does he want now? His father is dead, the tribunal has taken the estate, and he can’t seriously think I’m going to return either one.’

"Is he threatening anyone?" Alvian asked.

"No. That’s the strange part. He hasn’t threatened anyone in weeks."

"I’ll come." He ended the call. Tobias had already opened his mouth.

"Take a helmet. In case the apology comes with a magma ball."

"That’s not helping," Serah said, though she didn’t look completely convinced herself.

At the Academy, workers carried replacement stone through the courtyard. The east wall was half rebuilt, and the memorial board still carried names of students killed in the Calamity Rift.

Darius Magnus stood in front of that board. His Academy jacket hung loose. No family crest, guards, or expensive weapon. A strip of white bandage showed above his shirt where the Colossus had injured his chest.

Two students passed him on the steps.

"That’s him," one muttered. "The Duke’s kid."

"My brother’s name is on that board," the other answered loudly. "And his father paid people to kill students."

Darius heard. His jaw moved, but he stayed where he was. The first student looked disappointed, as though he’d wanted an excuse to start something.

Helen Croft watched from the doorway, arms folded. The scar across her jaw pulled when she spoke. "I’ve already told them fighting in the courtyard earns a month of rubble duty. Apparently that doesn’t stop talking."

"Talking’s free," Alvian said.

"Not always." She glanced toward Darius. "He hasn’t attended a proper lesson since the Rift. His family’s accounts were frozen after the tribunal. The Crown families who used to send him invitations won’t even return his messages."

"Does he have charges against him?"

"None. He’s seventeen. The tribunal named his father, not him. Try explaining that to students who watched their friends die."

Darius noticed them. Helen stepped away. "I’ll be inside if either of you decides to act stupid. Yes, that includes you, Vance."

Alvian walked toward the memorial board. Darius’s hands were shaking slightly. He hid them behind his back, then seemed to realize how that looked and let them fall to his sides.

"You came," Darius said.

"Croft said you were camping outside her office. Figured I’d save her the trouble of dragging you off the steps."

Darius gave a small, rough laugh. It died quickly. For a moment, he just looked at Alvian’s face, then at the Academy jacket he wore. Neither one spoke.

"I saw the tribunal broadcast," Darius finally said. "All of it. The contracts. The notary seals. My father’s signature."

"So did half the continent."

"I knew he hated you. I knew he wanted you out of the Academy. But I didn’t know about the Bloodhounds. Or Tobias and Serah." Darius swallowed. "I thought people were lying when they said he’d paid to have you murdered. Then they put his signature on the screen."

Alvian’s expression didn’t change. ’He believed everything the man said when it was convenient. That doesn’t disappear because the evidence finally caught up.’

"Your father isn’t here to answer for himself anymore," Alvian said. "You don’t need to answer for his contracts either."

"That’s not why I asked you here."

A hammer struck stone behind them.

CLANG!

Both looked toward the workers. One had dropped a beam on his foot and was now swearing at everyone nearby.

Darius waited until the shouting settled. "I was wrong. About you, about Clearwater, about everything my father taught me." His voice cracked on the last few words, but he kept going. "I called you trash in front of the entire Academy. I sent Rex after you. I wanted you humiliated because I couldn’t stand losing to someone they said was beneath me."

"You did a pretty terrible job of it."