"He could just be a genius. An anomaly born of chance. If we act on the assumption he knows everything, we might reveal ourselves prematurely."

"We need to test him," Voice One decided. "We need to put him in a situation where his knowledge...future or otherwise...cannot save him. We need to break his pattern."

Voice One waved his hand, and the hologram changed. It now displayed the upcoming event schedule for the Academy.

[Event: Overlords Academy Championship Tournament]

[Status: Upcoming]

"The Tournament," Voice One said. "The stage where all young heroes go to prove themselves. We will turn it into his grave."

"But he defeated a god," Voice Five argued. "Who among the students can stop him? Even the Faction Heads are beneath him now."

"We don't need a student," Voice One sneered. "We have the experiments. The Chimeras. Subject Zero."

"Subject Zero is unstable!" Voice Three protested. "It is not ready!"

"Make it ready," Voice One commanded. "Inject the acceleration serum. Fuse the Demon God nucleus. I want a monster that eats anomalies for breakfast."

He turned back to the image of Alvian.

"You think you are the protagonist of this story, boy?" Voice One whispered to the hologram. "You are just a bug in my code. And I have the delete button."

"The decision is made," Voice One announced, standing up. The shadows clung to him like a royal cloak. "We accelerate Phase Two."

"The timeline was three years," Voice Four reminded him. "Three years until the barrier dissolves naturally. Three years to prepare the vessel for Demon God Engels."

"Three years is too long," Voice One snapped. "With Rogge dead and the Academy on high alert, we lose our window of opportunity. We move the timeline up."

"To when?" Voice Three asked nervously.

"Three months."

"Ding!"

A collective intake of breath echoed through the room. Three months. It was madness. It meant burning through resources at an unsustainable rate. It meant risking detection. It meant total war.

"The Corrupted Crystal," Voice One pointed to the floating black gem. "It is hungry. We will feed it the Academy's own mana core. We will siphon the energy from beneath their feet while they sleep."

"That requires access to the Deep Core," Voice Five grunted. "The Undercroft is sealed."

"We have the keys," Voice One said, a cruel smile visible beneath his cowl. "Or rather, we have the man who holds them. The Vice-Headmaster has been... cooperative. His ambition outweighs his loyalty."

Voice One tapped the table.

[Protocol: Subject Zero Acceleration - APPROVED]

[Protocol: Core Siphon - APPROVED]

[Protocol: Alvian Monitoring/Elimination - APPROVED]

"As for Alvian," Voice One continued. "He will be watched. Every step. Every breath. If he leaves the Academy grounds, kill him. If he enters the Undercroft, kill him. But do not engage him publicly until the Tournament."

"Why wait?" Voice Five asked, itching for violence.

"Because I want to break his spirit," Voice One said. "I want him to climb to the very top. I want him to reach the finals. I want the entire world watching when our creation tears him apart. We will show the world that even their greatest hero is nothing before the power of the Syndicate."

"What about the Magistrates?" Voice Four asked. "They are arriving tomorrow to investigate the Silverwood incident. They are greedy. They will sniff around."

"Let them sniff," Voice One waved a hand dismissively. "Magistrate Valen is on our payroll, even if he doesn't know it yet. Use him. Point him at Alvian. Let the bureaucracy tie the boy's hands while we sharpen our knives."

Voice One looked at the Corrupted Crystal one last time. The heartbeat of the stone was syncing with his own.

"Thump... Thump..."

"The Convergence is coming," Voice One whispered. "And this time, no anomaly will stop it."

The figures around the table faded away one by one, teleporting back to their hidden posts within the Academy, the Government, and the Factions.

Voice One remained alone in the dark.

"Three months, Alvian," he murmured. "Run fast."

The morning sun over Silverwood City felt cold, despite the blizzard having passed. The cheers of the townsfolk, who hailed Alvian and his squad as heroes, were muffled by the thick, heavy curtains of the Governor's private drawing room.

Alvian sat in a plush velvet chair, his posture relaxed, but his muscles were coiled like steel springs. Across from him sat a man who radiated danger far more subtle than a monster, yet just as lethal.

Magistrate Valen.

He was a tall, gaunt man wearing the midnight-blue robes of the Central Government's Magical Enforcement Division. His eyes were narrow, sharp, and hungry. He didn't look like a man here to reward heroes. He looked like a vulture circling a carcass, looking for the choicest bits of meat.

"A remarkable tale, Student Alvian," Valen said, his voice smooth like oiled silk. He tapped a long, manicured finger on the table between them. "A freshman, a few exhausted seniors, and two professors managed to defeat a Calamity-class Avatar. The official report says Professor Rogge sacrificed himself using a Forbidden Art."

"That is correct," Alvian replied, his voice flat. "He used the [Lava Scorching Sun Array]. It incinerated him and the Avatar."

Valen leaned forward. The air in the room grew heavy. A magical pressure, dense and suffocating, began to fill the space. It was a test. An intimidation tactic.

Alvian didn't flinch. His [Vestments of the Void Monarch], though currently disguised as his standard robes, absorbed the pressure effortlessly.

[System Analysis]

[Target: Magistrate Valen]

[Level: 41]

[Class: Mind-Weaver]

[Affiliation: Central Government / ???]

[Threat Level: High]

A Mind-Weaver. A class specializing in psychic interrogation and memory manipulation. Alvian narrowed his eyes. This wasn't a debriefing; it was a mental siege.

"Rogge was a genius," Valen purred, ignoring Alvian's lack of reaction. "But geniuses leave notes. They leave journals. The [Lava Scorching Sun Array] is a spell of immense strategic value to the Kingdom. Tell me, boy... before he turned into a supernova, did he hand you anything? A data slate? A scroll? Perhaps a key?"

Alvian's heart beat steadily. In his inventory sat the [Key to the Deep Lab]. In his mind sat the memory of the [Frost Heart Transformation] skill book he had looted.

If Valen got his hands on Rogge's research, it wouldn't go to the Kingdom. It would go straight to the Syndicate. Alvian knew this man from his past life. Valen was a corrupt official who sold state secrets for mana crystals.

"He didn't have time for goodbyes," Alvian lied smoothly. "He was busy burning."

Valen's eyes flashed with annoyance. The psychic pressure increased, pressing against Alvian's temples like a vice.

"Don't play games with me, child," Valen's voice dropped an octave, losing its polite veneer. "I am a Regional Magistrate. I can have you expelled. I can have you arrested for obstruction of justice. I can have you disappear into a black site prison where no one will ever hear your name again."

He stood up, towering over the seated Alvian.

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