Chapter 17: The Web of Suspicion
Corvus's declaration hung in the alchemy lab's corridor like a shroud. The two agents flanking him were cut from the same cloth—impeccable, emotionless, their eyes scanning the scene with detached efficiency. One held a device that hummed, passively recording every flicker of magical residue.
"Sabotage?" Magus Brom's voice was a low growl, stepping slightly in front of Silas. "That is a profound and unsubstantiated accusation, Agent."
"Is it?" Corvus's smile was a razor's edge. "We have a pattern. Unexplained phenomena. A missing student. Now, another incident, with Mr. Vale at the epicenter. His familiar, as we have established, possesses unique destabilizing properties." His gaze flicked to Seraphina. "And now he appears to have… influenced one of your most promising students. The pattern suggests not an anomaly, but an actor."
He was weaving a narrative, stitching together facts with insidious logic. Silas could see it taking shape in the agents' eyes. The void-touched student, corrupting the academy from within.
"I was assisting him," Seraphina stated, her voice cold and clear, though Silas could see the tension in her shoulders. "The student was in distress. We intervened."
"A commendable, if misguided, effort," Corvus conceded, his tone implying the opposite. "But it does not explain the cause of the 'distress.' My investigation will begin now. This wing is sealed. All of you will submit to preliminary questioning." His eyes locked on Silas. "Starting with you, Mr. Vale. Separately."
The Unlisted, waiting in the clock tower, would have no warning.
The interrogation room in the newly established Bureau office was a smaller, colder version of the one in the Compliance Division. The walls were a featureless white, and a single, harsh light shone down on the metal table. Corvus sat across from Silas, his hands steepled.
"Let us dispense with the fiction of the 'shadow-weasel,'" Corvus began, no longer bothering with pleasantries. "Your entity, which you call 'Lurk,' is a void-based consciousness. Its very nature is antithetical to the ordered reality this institution, and my Bureau, are sworn to protect. The evidence is clear that its presence creates… stress fractures."
"It's not the cause," Silas said, his voice flat. He knew arguing was futile, but he had to plant the seed. "It's the only thing that can sense them. The Bureau's own system is creating the pressure. Your order is making the world brittle."
Corvus actually smiled, a thin, patronizing expression. "A fascinating theory. One I expect from a consciousness that seeks to justify its own corrosive existence. You are being manipulated, Vale. The entity is using you to weaken the barriers between our world and its own. These 'cracks' are not a symptom of a failing system. They are the goal."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Confess. Admit that the entity compelled you to create these disturbances. That you are a pawn, not a mastermind. The punishment for being a victim is far less severe than that for being a saboteur."
Silas felt a cold fury rise in him. Not at the accusation, but at the sheer, blind arrogance. Corvus was so entrenched in his worldview that he would rather believe in a malicious conspiracy than consider his own philosophy might be flawed.
"I have nothing to confess," Silas said, meeting his gaze.
"Then we will find the evidence without you," Corvus said, leaning back. "We will interview your associates. Your friend, Leo. The others you have been seen with. We will audit Magus Brom's research. We will uncover this network of yours."
The threat was explicit. He was going to target everyone around Silas.
The questioning continued for hours, circling the same points, Corvus trying to find a crack in his story. Silas held firm, his answers minimal, his mind racing. He had to warn the others.
When he was finally released, the academy felt like a different place. Bureau agents were a visible presence, their white suits standing out amidst the student robes. A palpable tension had replaced the earlier, subdued fear. The official story was now one of a malicious investigation, and Silas was at the center of it.
He found Leo in their usual spot in the library, but the boy was a nervous wreck.
"They questioned me for an hour," Leo whispered, his wisp huddled under the table. "They asked about the clock tower. About what we talk about. They kept calling it a 'cell.' I didn't tell them anything, Silas, I swear!"
"I know you didn't," Silas said, his heart sinking. The web was tightening.
A note, slipped into his bag by an unseen hand, summoned him to the greenhouse. Magus Brom was waiting, his face etched with deep lines of worry.
"He's auditing my access to the restricted archives," Brom said without preamble. "He's looking for any pre-Bureau texts I've consulted. He's building a case that I have been radicalizing you with heretical knowledge." He poured a glass of amber liquid with a slightly trembling hand. "He cannot touch Seraphina directly—her family's influence is too great—but he is isolating her. Spreading whispers that she has been magically compromised."
"He's trying to cut me off from everyone," Silas said, the strategy becoming clear. "Isolate the pathogen so it can be safely excised."
"Precisely." Brom took a long drink. "Your network, your alliance with Valerius… it made you dangerous. He must dismantle it before he can move against you again."
That night, in the silence of his room, the weight of it felt crushing. Corvus had reframed the entire conflict. He was no longer a hunter chasing a fugitive; he was a surgeon preparing to remove a tumor, and he was meticulously cauterizing all the surrounding blood vessels first.
"The hunter's strategy is effective," Lurk observed, its calm tone a stark contrast to the turmoil in Silas's mind. "He attacks not us, but our connections. He understands that our strength is no longer singular."
"What do we do?" Silas asked, staring into the darkness.
"We must prove his premise false. He believes we are the source of the instability. We must demonstrate, publicly and undeniably, that we are not. That the instability is systemic, and that we are the only ones who can contain it."
"How? He controls the narrative now. Anything we do will be seen as another act of sabotage."
"Then we must act when the next fracture occurs," Lurk replied. "And we must ensure the entire academy sees it for what it is. We must force the truth into the light, where even the Bureau's shadows cannot hide it."
It was a colossal risk. It meant waiting for another disaster, another tear in reality, and then stepping directly into Corvus's crosshairs to stop it.
The path forward was terrifyingly clear. They were no longer just trying to survive or warn others. They were heading for a direct, public confrontation with the full authority of the Celestial Bureau. The next fracture wouldn't just be a crisis. It would be a battlefield.