The heavy oak doors groaned as the silver-white light of the Inquisitor's aura bled through the cracks, turning the room's sapphire shadows into a harsh, clinical gray. Chase felt the [Scabbard of Broken Oaths] vibrate against his skin—not out of fear, but in a silent, predatory challenge.
[Warning: Extreme Holy Resonance Detected]
[Detection Chance: 85%]
[Instruction: Lower Heartbeat. Cease Mana Circulation.]
Chase didn't dive for the vent. Instead, he crawled into the dark space beneath the heavy mahogany divan, pressing his face against the cool stone. He activated [Vane of Shadows].
The world shifted. The walls of the office became translucent, revealing the glowing veins of mana that powered the Academy's wards. He could see Vane through the door—a towering pillar of blinding, jagged light.
The Breach
The doors swung open with a crash. High Inquisitor Vane stepped in, his silver armor clanking with every heavy step. He didn't look like a man; he looked like a manifestation of divine judgment.
"Inquisitor," Lyra said, her voice steady as she sipped her wine, though Chase could see her fingers trembling through the gap in the furniture. "To what do I owe this... violent intrusion?"
"The heretic's trace vanished near the North Wing, Lady Lyra," Vane rumbled, his voice echoing inside his helm. He began to pace the room, his boots passing inches from Chase's hiding spot. "My sensors picked up a surge of Abyssal energy. Briefly, but potent."
He stopped. Right in front of the divan.
The Acting
"You are sheltering a student," Vane stated, his visor turning toward the bed where the blankets were still ruffled from Chase's weight.
"I am sheltering a sick child," Lyra countered, standing up. "The boy I sponsored, Chase. The alarms and the mana-shifts caused him a severe seizure. I brought him here to stabilize his core. He is currently in the washroom, retching his soul out."
Vane leaned down, his gauntleted hand resting on the edge of the divan. Chase held his breath, his lungs screaming for air. He gripped the scabbard, praying it wouldn't pulse.
"A seizure?" Vane's voice was a low growl. "Or a transformation?"
Suddenly, the washroom door creaked open. Chase's heart skipped a beat—he was under the divan, so who...?
The Mirror Image
A small, pale figure stumbled out of the washroom, clutching his stomach and looking utterly miserable. It was Chase—or rather, a [Shadow Echo] projected by the Scabbard. The double looked identical, its eyes dull and its hair matted with sweat.
The Echo collapsed onto the floor, groaning in a way that sounded painfully real.
Vane turned, his focus shifting to the decoy. He walked over, looming over the "boy" and scanning him with a glowing silver relic.
[Status Alert: Echo Duration 60 seconds]
[Energy Cost: Life Force]
Chase felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest as the relic drained his very vitality to maintain the illusion. He watched from the shadows as Vane poked the Echo with the tip of a gloved finger.
"His mana is empty," Vane noted, his suspicion cooling but not vanishing. "He smells of... lavender and sickness. Not the Abyss."
"As I told you," Lyra said, her voice dripping with ice. "Now, unless you intend to assist in his recovery, leave my sanctum. You are trespassing on Arch-Mage territory."
The Close Call
Vane lingered for a heartbeat longer, his gaze sweeping the room one last time. He looked directly at the shadows beneath the divan, but the [Vane of Shadows] skill held firm, bending the light around Chase's body.
"We will speak again, Lyra," Vane said. He turned and marched out, the oppressive white light fading as he retreated down the hall.
The moment the doors clicked shut, the Shadow Echo evaporated into black mist. Chase scrambled out from under the divan, coughing violently as the "Soul Hangover" returned with a vengeance.
Lyra collapsed into her chair, her face as white as the Inquisitor's armor.
"That was too close," she whispered, looking at Chase with a new kind of fear. "The scabbard... it protected you. It created a ghost."
Chase looked at his trembling hands. "It didn't just protect me. It's hungry. It took my strength to make that ghost."
He looked toward the window, where the first hint of a blood-red dawn was staining the sky. The first day was over, but the hunt had truly begun.