The heavy, deafening roar of the Mechanics Department seemed to completely vanish around Bay 4, replaced by a suffocating, icy tension.
Ferran Mortipia stared at the severed coolant line resting innocently on the grease-stained workbench. The Prince of Mortipia was entirely unaccustomed to being caught off guard, much less physically overpowered by a commoner, but the reality of the sabotage quickly overshadowed his bruised pride.
He turned his dark, calculating gaze back to the quiet barista.
"Where exactly did a slum-dwelling coffee boy learn a Trangdar joint-lock?" Ferran demanded, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. He rubbed his aching elbow, his muscles still twinging from the flawless martial execution. "That wasn't a tavern brawl maneuver. That was military-grade leverage. The kind they only teach the royal guard."
Devin didn't flinch under the intense scrutiny of his former best friend. He kept Zain Ricky's face perfectly rigid, an impenetrable mask of dead-eyed apathy. He couldn't afford a single slip.
"The Reignn slums don't teach you how to bow, Mortipia," Devin replied, his raspy voice flat and dismissive. "They teach you how to break bones before they break yours. I learned what I needed to survive."
Ferran's jaw tightened, clearly not buying the overly simplified explanation. But before the prince could press the interrogation further, Karin slammed her heavy wrench against the metal workbench.
"Enough!" she shouted, her amber eyes flashing with genuine fury and lingering terror. "Someone just tried to blow me to pieces in my own bay, and you two are arguing about hand-to-hand combat forms?"
She reached out with a trembling, grease-stained hand and picked up the severed rubber hose. She stared at the clean, razor-sharp incision, the color completely drained from her face. The tough, independent mechanic persona she wore like armor was rapidly fracturing.
"If Zain hadn't skipped his lecture..." Karin's voice cracked. She swallowed hard, unable to finish the horrific thought.
Devin watched her. The absolute second her voice wavered, a violent, desperate surge of affection ripped through Zain Ricky's nervous system. The Cyprian body physically ached to step forward, pull her into a tight embrace, and promise her that nothing in the entire North would ever hurt her. The physical memory of the kiss from the dream flared hot in Devin's mind.
Devin brutally forced the impulse down, locking Zain's heart in a cold, mental cage. He couldn't act on it. Not with Ferran standing right there, and not when he needed a clear, tactical mind to hunt a saboteur.
Instead of an embrace, Devin reached out and plucked the severed hose from her shaking hands.
"Focus, Karin," Devin instructed calmly, holding the rubber up to the harsh magical luminescence overhead. "Who has access to this specific bay? The lock on the chain-link fence wasn't broken. Someone either has a master key, or they walk these halls regularly enough to not draw suspicion."
Ferran stepped closer, his competitive animosity momentarily shelved for the sake of the investigation. The Mortipian Federation poured millions of gold coins into the UEI's mechanical advancements; sabotage of this magnitude was a direct insult to his family's investment.
"Every Stark student in the mechanical tier has their own bay," Ferran stated, his dark eyes scanning the sprawling garage. "But we don't share keys. The professors and the night-shift maintenance crew are the only ones with master access."
Devin slowly brought the severed end of the hose closer to his face. He didn't just look at it; he leveraged the horrific gifts Count Sapien had forced upon this vessel. He engaged the Cyprian venom, letting his pupils dilate to draw in the microscopic details and scents that a normal human would completely miss.
He inhaled sharply.
Beneath the overwhelming stench of raw fuel, burning ozone, and Karin's faint citrus scent, there was a foreign residue clinging to the freshly cut rubber.
"Alchemical sulfur," Devin murmured, his eyes narrowing. He took another, deeper breath. "And... deep-sea resin. The kind used to seal pressurized aquatic glass."
Karin frowned, instantly stepping closer to inspect the hose. "Are you sure? Why would someone use an aquatic sealant on a combustion line?"
"They didn't use it on the line," Devin clarified, his voice dropping an octave. "It transferred from the blade they used to make the cut. The saboteur had the resin on their hands or their tools."
Ferran's posture immediately stiffened. The Prince of Mortipia was no fool. He connected the dots with the ruthless efficiency of a born leader.
"Aquatic Technologists," Ferran said, his voice turning to ice. "The only department in the entire academy that uses deep-sea resin for pressure stabilization is Aquatic Tech."
"Colstar," Karin whispered, her amber eyes widening in sheer realization.
Devin's blood ran cold. The image of Aiden Colstar, lying bleeding on the marble floor with a shattered jaw, flashed vividly in his mind.
"Aiden Colstar uses the bay exactly two tiers above this one," Karin continued, her words tumbling out in a rapid, furious rush. "He's been failing his pressure evaluations all rees. He demanded I trade my primary runic ignition coil with him yesterday. He said my tech was wasted on a Frazer cycle. When I told him to go to hell, he threatened to have my lab access revoked."
Ferran let out a harsh, barking laugh completely devoid of humor. "Typical Colstar arrogance. He couldn't build a functioning machine if his life depended on it, so he relies on his royal status to steal from the talented. But an assassination attempt? Setting an explosive trap to secure a passing grade?" Ferran's fists clenched tight at his sides. "If the Prince of Colstar is trying to murder top Northern mechanics to cover up his own incompetence, my father will personally mount his head on the Mortipian gates."
Devin remained completely silent, absorbing the information.
It made perfect, sickening sense. Aiden was a deeply entitled, lecherous sociopath who viewed everyone—from Devin's sister to his classmates—as entirely disposable objects meant to serve his needs. Aiden wanted Karin's high-grade ignition coil to pass his failing practicals. If Karin died in a tragic, 'accidental' manifold explosion, her pristine, salvaged tech would quietly find its way into Aiden's aquatic vessel by the end of the week.
"We report this to Professor Vane immediately," Ferran declared, turning toward the stairs. "I will have the academy guard lock down the Aquatic Tech bays. They can tear Colstar's workspace apart until they find the blade coated in resin."
"No."
Devin's voice was a sharp, absolute command that stopped the Mortipian prince dead in his tracks.
Ferran turned around, a dangerous glare returning to his eyes. "Excuse me?"
"You can't go to the professors, Ferran," Devin explained, deliberately using the prince's first name to establish a level playing field. "Think about it. The UEI is a political powder keg. Aiden is the younger brother of the King of Colstar. If a Mortipian royal formally accuses a Colstar royal of attempted murder without absolute, undeniable physical proof in hand, it won't just cause a scandal. It could trigger a massive trade embargo."
Karin nodded slowly, crossing her grease-stained arms. "Zain is right. The professors will bury the accusation to protect the institute's reputation. They'll sweep it under the rug, and Colstar will just hire a better assassin next time."
"Then what do you suggest, barista?" Ferran challenged, stepping right into Devin's personal space. "We just let the bastard walk away?"
"No," Devin replied, his dark eyes locking onto Ferran's with a cold, terrifying intensity that made the prince involuntarily take a half-step back. "We find the proof ourselves. We find the blade. Then we strip him of his leverage entirely."
Ferran studied the taller boy for a long, heavy moment. The Mortipian heir was fundamentally arrogant, but he wasn't blind. He recognized the lethal, unyielding authority radiating from the slum-dwelling coffee boy. It was an aura of command that Ferran had only ever seen on his father, the Emperor.
"You're a strange guy, Ricky," Ferran finally muttered, breaking the stare. "Fine. But the Aquatic Tech labs are locked down heavily after sunset. Specialized magical wards. If you try to pick the locks, the alarms will wake the entire campus."
"I don't need to pick the locks," Karin interjected, a sharp, fierce smirk finally breaking through her lingering terror. The brilliant mechanic was back. "The aquatic bays use pressurized hydraulic security doors. They rely on the central boiler system in the basement to maintain the lockdown seals."
She walked over to her workbench, tossing a heavy brass spanner into her toolbelt.
"If someone were to temporarily bypass the primary steam valve in the basement," Karin explained, her amber eyes practically glowing with rebellious excitement, "the hydraulic pressure in the upper tiers would drop just enough to pry the heavy doors open with a crowbar. The magical wards wouldn't trigger, because technically, the door wasn't breached; it just depressurized."
Ferran actually smiled. It was a vicious, predatory grin that perfectly mirrored Devin's own internal satisfaction.
"I can get us into the basement," Ferran offered. "I have clearance for the lower levels due to my Frazer exhaust testing. I can distract the night watchman."
"And I'll pop the door," Devin finished smoothly, rolling his broad shoulders. The Cyprian venom hummed quietly, eager for a task.
They stood in a loose triangle in the middle of Bay 4. A prince, a mechanic, and a monster. It was a bizarre, entirely illegal, and highly treasonous alliance forged in the ashes of an assassination attempt.
"Tonight, then," Ferran agreed, pulling his heavy Stark jacket back on. "Meet me by the northern aqueduct entrance precisely at midnight. Don't be late, Ricky. I won't wait for you."
"I'll be there," Devin promised.
Ferran gave Karin a brief, respectful nod, entirely abandoning his previous haughty demeanor, and swiftly climbed the metal stairs, disappearing into the bustling crowd of the upper balcony.
Devin and Karin were left alone in the bay.
The heavy, chaotic noise of the Mechanics Department rushed back in to fill the silence. Karin leaned against her heavy Frazer cycle, letting out a long, exhausted breath. She looked entirely drained, the adrenaline crash hitting her hard.
"Thank you, Zain," she whispered softly, her eyes dropping to the concrete floor. "If you hadn't shown up..."
Devin felt the violent, physical urge to comfort her rise in Zain's chest again. It took a monumental effort of sheer will to keep his distance.
"Lock your tools, Karin," Devin said, his raspy voice gentle, but firm. "Go back to your dormitory. Lock your door. Do not speak to anyone about this until we have the blade."
Karin looked up at him, a soft, incredibly vulnerable expression on her face. It was the exact same look she had given him in the subterranean garage during the memory.
"Be careful tonight," she pleaded quietly.
Devin gave her a single, rigid nod. He turned around and walked out of Bay 4 without another word, plunging back into the crowded, noisy corridors of the UEI.
His mission parameters had suddenly, violently expanded. He was no longer just hunting Dr. Langstrum and Count Sapien's shadows. Tonight, the resurrected Prince of Trangdar was going to teach Aiden Colstar exactly what happens when you try to murder the people he cared about.