The next day, the Nevermore grounds were active in a way that felt… organized.
Students had gathered across the courtyard, not just watching but actively participating.
At the center, a group of DaVinci outcasts focused their telekinesis on a pile of wooden sticks laid out before them, lifting them into the air as the pieces aligned, rotated, and locked into place with deliberate precision.
Slowly, deliberately.
They formed the shape of a raven.
Not rough or symbolic, but detailed, structured, almost lifelike in its design, every piece held together by invisible force.
Enid watched it come together, her expression caught between curiosity and confusion.
"Why do we need Founder's Pyre Day?" she asked. "We didn't have this last year… or before."
Ethan stood beside her, watching the structure form for a moment before losing interest.
"Nope," he said. "I don't know."
"Because this school has forgotten its roots."
The voice came from behind them.
Barry Dort had arrived without announcement, stepping into their space like he had been part of the scene the entire time.
His gaze moved toward the wooden raven suspended in the air.
"Founder's Pyre Day is a restoration," he continued. "A reminder of Nevermore's origins, its founders, and the discipline that built this institution."
Enid looked back at it.
"…And we're burning that?" she asked.
Barry didn't hesitate.
"Symbolism," he said. "Destruction to reinforce identity. Renewal through tradition."
Ethan glanced at him briefly.
"So we build it just to burn it," he said. "Efficient."
Barry's expression didn't change at the sarcasm.
"Some things are not about efficiency," he replied. "They are about meaning."
Barry's gaze remained on the wooden raven as he continued, his tone steady but carrying quiet conviction.
"Like how Nevermore has grown… diluted," he said. "Traditions have been neglected under Principal Weems' leadership. We have spent too much time trying to coexist, to lower ourselves just to accommodate normies, when we were never meant to blend in with them."
He turned slightly, addressing both of them now.
"We are not equal to them," he added. "Nevermore was built to stand apart, not to compromise. My goal is to restore its former glory."
The words lingered.
Before either Ethan or Enid could respond,
Another voice cut in.
"And you decided to implement that vision without informing me?"
Weems had arrived.
Barry didn't look surprised.
"I informed the board of directors," he said. "They should have relayed the information to you."
Weems stepped closer, her expression composed but firm.
"You should have informed me first," she said. "I am the principal of this academy. Decisions of this scale are not made around me."
Barry met her gaze without backing down.
"The board approved it," he replied. "Which makes it official."
The courtyard felt quieter, even with students still present.
Weems didn't raise her voice.
"Approval does not replace protocol," she said. "You are here to assist, not to override."
Barry's posture remained unchanged.
"I am here to correct what has been overlooked," he said.
Ethan didn't stay to hear more.
"We'll take our leave," he said, already turning away as he pulled Enid with him, clearly uninterested in watching the cold standoff continue.
Behind them, the tension didn't ease.
"Principal Weems," Barry said, his tone measured but carrying intent, "it won't be long before the board of directors replaces you. A stricter administration would better suit Nevermore."
Weems didn't react immediately.
"We will see," she said.
Weems remained where she was, but the outcome wasn't as uncertain as Barry believed. She knew exactly where the balance of power stood.
Ethan was responsible for nearly half of the academy's funding, and more importantly, he held significant influence over the board's decisions. Any move to replace her would require his approval.
And Ethan—
He had already made his opinion clear.
If anything, he had seemed more inclined to bury Barry than support him.
"Wow… there was something going on back there between Principal Weems and the Vice Principal," said Enid as they walked, already linking her arm with Ethan's, her tone carrying that familiar excitement as she imagined how fast this would spread. "This is definitely going to turn into gossip."
Ethan glanced at her, not surprised.
"Well, Enid, you never change," he said. "You've seen so many worse things than this—world-ending disasters, dead bodies, things that shouldn't exist—and this is what interests you?"
Enid immediately made a face, her grip tightening slightly on his arm.
"Eww, don't make me remember that," she said quickly. "Do you think anyone would want to hear those stories? No one likes creepy things like that."
Ethan gave her a look.
"There are two people nearby who would disagree with that," he said.
Enid didn't miss a beat.
"You and Wednesday don't count," she replied. "You two are like… the worst possible reference point for normal reactions."
"If anyone sees a dead body, they run away," Enid continued, her tone turning more animated. "You and Wednesday run toward it. You guys are always excited about the wrong things."
Ethan was about to respond.
"Why bother running from something already dead," a voice came from behind them, calm and precise, "when it's far more efficient to understand what made it stop?"
They turned.
Wednesday had joined them, her expression unchanged as she stepped into pace beside them.
"Fear wastes time," she added. "Curiosity produces results."
***
A/N: It's decided—the next world will be .
And on Patreon, the Wednesday arc is about to end, with The Boys arc starting next.
The Patreon version is already updated with 40 advanced chapters. If you'd like to read ahead of the public release schedule, you can join here:
👉 patreon.com/JamesA211