Chapter 14: Red Threads and Burning Eyes

In House Ignis Tower, Seraphina Vale had lost control of her schedule. That was her first warning.

The second was the wall.

It was supposed to be a clean section of her study. Instead, it now featured strings, sigil diagrams, timelines, and a large photo of Lucien Drex that had been drawn in charcoal — by Seraphina herself.

It had notes pinned to it:

"Doesn't show up to duels — yet never fails."

"Signature sigils rewritten in triple-bend glyphs. Who taught him?"

"Smile analysis: 47% mockery, 53%… affection?"

Her roommate, Viya, stared at it, wide-eyed.

"Seraphina. You built a conspiracy wall."

"It's not a conspiracy," Seraphina snapped. "It's a pattern. He's not avoiding notice. He's manipulating attention."

"While napping?"

"That's the genius!"

---

Meanwhile, in the library…

Lucien lay sideways across three cushions, watching students whisper behind bookshelves.

"Is it true?" one asked. "Seraphina likes him?"

"I heard she wrote him a love letter. And then burned it. And then recreated it using memory recall ink."

Lucien smirked.

He had written the fake letter himself. Slipped it into a mail drop, sealed with Seraphina's forged glyph.

"Reverse romance trap," he muttered to himself. "Classic move."

Renn looked up. "Why are you doing this?"

Lucien blinked. "Because it's Tuesday."

---

The Duel Arena Setup

Seraphina announced a public sparring match.

"Just for demonstration," she said.

Students swarmed to watch. The name on the match board? Lucien Drex.

Except Lucien… didn't show.

Instead, Ira Moress arrived.

Wearing a floppy cloak, with a sigil illusion over her face.

"I am Lucien!" she declared in a distorted voice.

Renn slapped his forehead. "No, Ira."

Seraphina narrowed her eyes.

"I don't think this is—"

"Duel!" Ira screamed, folding the platform mid-cast.

Seraphina launched a flame spiral. Ira panicked, reversed it, and accidentally banished it into a time bubble.

The spell hovered. Glitched. Imploded.

The crowd erupted in confusion and applause.

"Ira wins!" someone shouted.

"No she doesn't!" Seraphina yelled.

"I'm Lucien!" Ira added helpfully.

Seraphina stormed off, what it's ira not Lucien

One of the acrows watching them duel added : well , well , well it's nothing new Lucien skipped this he is a scaredy cat

---

Later That Night: The Greenhouse Scene

Lucien stood barefoot in the greenhouse, watching self-watering plants mist themselves.

"You're predictable," Seraphina said behind him.

"You're late," Lucien replied, not turning around.

"Why do you keep dodging me?"

"I don't dodge. I sidestep elegantly."

She approached, tightly wound. Her voice was sharp.

"I know what you're doing. You're building control by refusing control."

"Sounds smart. I should write it down."

"You're mocking me."

"Always."

She stared at him. "Why are you like this?"

Lucien turned at last.

"You're trying to solve me like an equation, Seraphina. But what if I'm the wrong variable entirely?"

She flinched.

"Don't talk in riddles."

He smiled. "That's not a riddle. It's a distraction."

He handed her a flower.

She took it. The petals spelled "Not Interested" in sigil script.

She left.

The flower crumbled into smoke.

---

Caelum Watches From Above

Perched on a high arch, Caelum observed everything.

"She's unraveling," he whispered.

Lucien's voice replied from behind him.

"I know."

Caelum didn't jump. He was used to Lucien appearing without footsteps.

"You're pushing her too far."

Lucien's tone turned distant.

"She pushed herself. I'm just giving her something to push against."

Caelum asked, "Why not let her go?"

Lucien said nothing.

Then finally: "Because she's useful. And because part of her remembers who I was."

Caelum's eyes narrowed. "Before the Obsidian Project?"

Lucien didn't reply.

But his silence said enough.

---

Epilogue: Pale Sigil Report Room

A masked agent scribbled furiously.

"Subject Vale, Seraphina – emotionally compromised. Target Drex – manipulative response pattern confirmed."

Another voice: "He's spreading like a virus. Even top-ranked are folding into his orbit."

A final voice, gravel-deep:

"Then break the pieces. Start with the girl."

Fade to black.