Adom smiled as Bob materialized in the empty classroom. The old leprechaun's white beard was neatly trimd now, his new erald coat adorned with golden threads that caught the lamplight. Even his boots glead, polished to mirror shine.
"You clean up nice, Bob. Business must be good."
"Aye, and you've put on so proper muscle since I last saw you." Bob circled him once, nodding in approval. "About ti too. You were skinny as a twig."
"Wait, really?" Adom flexed his arm, squinting at it. "You can tell?"
"Course I can tell. Who do you think I am?" Bob snorted, reaching up to pat Adom's head. "Still got that smart head on your shoulders though. Good lad."
"These boots are incredible," Adom said, gesturing at Bob's footwear. "Drake leather?"
Bob's chest puffed up. "Finest craftsmanship north of the Silver Mountains. Tell you what - I'll make you a pair once you grow into them proper." He eyed Adom's current shoes with clear disapproval. "Can't have you running around in those shabby things."
"They're not that bad-"
"They're an insult to professional pride is what they are." Bob shook his head, then looked up at Adom with narrowed eyes. "Now, what sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into this ti?"
Adom told Bob everything.
Well... almost everything.
He started with his first ti in the undertow - the pickpocket who beca an ally, the vampire who nearly killed him, the fight that followed. Bob's eyebrows climbed higher with each detail, his fingers drumming against his knee as he perched on a nearby desk.
The story spilled out faster after that. The Children of the Moon's shipnt, the explosion, the way the criminal underground erupted into chaos. Bob's drumming fingers went still when Adom described the aftermath - how the Children had responded by hiring soone who could go toe-to-toe with Star Knights.
Throughout the telling, Bob's face shifted between emotions like clouds across the sun. He scowled at the ntion of the vampire, nodded grimly at the description of the fight, and actually grinned when Adom detailed how he'd blown up the shipnt. But that grin vanished when Adom explained about Gale, replaced by sothing harder.
When Adom finally finished, silence filled the classroom. Bob stared at the floor for a long mont, then looked up at Adom.
"Bloody fucking hell," he spat, then switched to his own tongue. Adom didn't understand the words, but the venom in Bob's voice made it clear they weren't blessings.
Bob sighed, running a hand through his beard. "A Star Knight's no joke, lad. Then again, you did take down a sphinx."
"The sphinx underestimated ," Adom said. "This one won't make the sa mistake."
"Smart one." Bob nodded, then straightened. "So, you want to take a ssage to your father?"
Adom pulled out the sealed letter. "If possible. At the Twin Peaks."
"The Twin Peaks? Border of the Empire?" Bob scratched his chin. "No problem. I'll be there by tomorrow morning. Give it to Commander... Sylla, was it? Tall fellow, blue eyes like yours, got that scar running across his right eye?"
"That's him."
"Aye." Bob tucked the letter into his coat. "I'll head out now, get there faster." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a four-leafed clover, holding it out to Adom. "Here. Enchanted for luck."
Adom stared at the clover. As a mage, he found the concept of luck magic rather absurd - probability was a mathematical constant, not sothing you could bend with a plant, enchanted or otherwise. Even accounting for magical theory, 'luck' was too vague a concept to properly channel energy through.
Still, he took the clover from Bob's hand. The old leprechaun had saved his life too many tis to refuse such a gift, dubious magical theory aside.
"Better not die before I co back with your father," Bob said, fixing Adom with a stern look.
"I'll try not to," Adom replied. "And... thanks, Bob. For everything."
Again.. There was that bells chiming underwater sound, a shimr of green and gold, and Bob was gone just like before, leaving nothing but the scent of clover in the classroom.
Adom sighed as the scent of clover faded, his heart beating a little faster at the thought of seeing his father again.
He'd imagined their reunion differently - around a dinner table perhaps, sharing a al and stories, his father's rare laugh filling their ho. Instead, he was sending a warning about a Star Knight. Ti wasn't on his side with soone like Gale involved, and he couldn't risk telling everyone directly.
Speaking of which...
He reached into his inventory and pulled out the golem. The construct stood silently beside his desk as he sat down, closing his eyes. He visualized Headmaster rris's office - the heavy oak door, the worn stone walls, the ever-present stack of papers threatening to avalanche off his desk.
The talisman felt cool against his skin as he slipped it on. His consciousness shifted, that familiar disorienting lurch as-
Blip.
The golem materialized in the corridor outside rris's office. Empty. Good.
Blip.
The next jump landed him - well, the golem - right into one of rris's paper towers. Docunts scattered everywhere like startled pigeons.
"Shit, sorry, sorry, sorry," Adom muttered from his classroom chair, making the golem scramble to gather the fallen papers. The tal and stone made hands weren't exactly made for delicate paper-sorting. After three attempts to create a neat stack, he settled for "mostly not on the floor" and placed the envelope prominently on the center of the desk. rris couldn't miss it unless he was actively trying to.
Blip.
Back in his body, Adom rubbed his temples. The motion sickness from jumping with the golem was getting better - he no longer felt like his stomach was trying to escape through his nose - but it still wasn't pleasant. Like reading a book in a carriage on a bumpy road. He'd take regular teleportation over golem-jumping any day.
Next up, Professor Kim.
Adom handed the remaining envelope to the golem and focused on the professor's laboratory. The familiar walls, the perpetual sll of burning sothing, the countless experints laid out on every available surface...
Blip.
"WAUGH-" Adom's cry cut off as the golem materialized a foot off the ground, gravity doing what gravity does best. The construct crashed down onto its tallic behind, right into a desk covered in what looked like very delicate glassware.
The resulting chaos sounded expensive.
"RCIFUL HEAVENS! BANDITS! HOOLIGANS! SCIENTIFIC SABOTEURS!" Professor Kim's voice hit a pitch usually reserved for opera. A fireball whooshed past the golem's head, singing the wall behind it.
From his classroom, Adom winced. "Professor, wait-"
Another fireball caught the golem square in the face. The construct stumbled backward, knocking over what appeared to be a very intricate system of tubes and beakers. Liquid of various colors began mixing in ways that probably weren't ant to mix.
"MISCREANT! VANDAL! DESTROYER OF CAREFULLY CALIBRATED EQUIPNT!" Kim was backing away, hurling both fireballs and increasingly creative insults. His robes were askew, his glasses crooked on his nose. "BACK, YOU TALLIC DEMON!"
"Professor, stop!" he called uselessly from his classroom chair, forgetting in his panic that the golem couldn't speak. He made the construct raise its hands in surrender and point to where its mouth would be, trying to mi that it ant no harm.
This only seed to terrify Kim more. "IT'S MAKING ARCANE GESTURES! HEAVENS PRESERVE US!"
What was this man doing here at this ti anyway?
The golem slowly lowered itself to one knee, deliberately moving to pick up a fallen beaker. It carefully placed the glassware back on a nearby table.
Professor Kim's next fireball faltered slightly. "What in the..."
The construct continued thodically cleaning, stacking papers that had scattered, righting an overturned chair. Each movent was precise, careful, almost apologetic.
"You're... not here to destroy my life's work?" Kim's grip on his spell remained firm, but his voice had dropped from panic to cautious curiosity.
The golem shook its head, the tal joints in its neck moving with surprising fluidity.
"Fascinating." Kim took a tentative step forward, squinting through his crooked glasses. "The articulation in those joints... and is that enchanted tal in the core structure? The craftsmanship is remarkable." Another step. "There's soone controlling you, isn't there? This isn't autonomous behavior."
The golem nodded.
"Extraordinary. The control chanism must be..." Kim was fully in academic mode now, though the fireball still flickered in his palm. "The response ti is nearly instantaneous. How did you even get in here? The wards should have-"
The golem raised a single finger in a 'wait' gesture, reaching slowly into a compartnt in its chest. Kim tensed, but his academic curiosity seed to be winning over his fear.
The construct withdrew the envelope with deliberate care.
"For... ?" Kim's eyebrows rose as the golem nodded. "Well. You could have knocked, you know. Instead of..." He gestured at the still-considerable ss with his free hand. "Though I suppose this is more dramatic. And infinitely more interesting from an arcane engineering perspective."
The golem extended its arm, envelope held carefully between stone fingers. Kim darted forward like a sparrow snatching bread, backing away just as quickly.
"What is this? What ga are you playing?" The fireball in his palm pulsed brighter. "Don't move. Not a single joint, or I'll lt you down to scrap."
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The golem nodded slowly, standing perfectly still.
In his classroom, Adom's fingers drumd nervously on his desk. He'd originally planned to deliver this himself, but... what if Kim panicked and gave nas to those people? No. Better to watch the professor's reaction from afar, through the golem's eyes.
Kim tore open the envelope with his free hand, adjusting his glasses with a knuckle. His eyes darted across the first lines, then stopped. Started again. The color drained from his face like water from a broken vessel.
He looked up at the golem, mouth working silently for a mont. "This... this can't be true?"
The construct nodded once.
Kim's eyes dropped back to the paper. The fireball in his palm flickered, forgotten, as he continued reading. His legs seed to give out halfway through, and he groped blindly behind him for his chair, missing twice before finally finding it.
"Stars above," he whispered. "Stars and void above..."
The paper crumpled in Kim's shaking hands. His eyes darted across the lines again and again, as if hoping the words would rearrange themselves into sothing less devastating.
"No." It ca out as a whisper. Then louder: "No. These are LIES!" He surged to his feet, the forgotten fireball flaring dangerously bright. "Twenty-three years! Twenty-three years of research, of breakthroughs, of... of..." His voice cracked. "Do you have ANY idea what this project ans? The lives it could change?!"
The golem stood silent, immobile.
"This is... this is SLANDER! FABRICATION! MALICIOUS LUNACY!" Kim's free hand slashed through the air, the paper crinkling further in his grip. But his eyes kept returning to certain lines, certain nas, certain docunted transactions that explained too much. Cisco had done an excellent job at tracking all of this.
The professor's shoulders slumped, then straightened again in denial.
In his classroom, Adom's knuckles were white on his desk edge. He could see it in Kim's face - the desperate need to reject what he was reading warring with his thodical researcher's mind connecting dots he'd never wanted to see.
"I won't believe it. I CAN'T believe it. Not from so... so animated STATUE that crashes into my laboratory in the dead of night!" Kim's voice rose again, but the tremor in it betrayed him. "These people... they've funded hospitals. Orphanages. They've..." He trailed off, the paper shaking harder. "Under my nose. All this ti. Using my work to... to..."
He collapsed back into his chair, the fireball finally guttering out. "Everything I've done. Everything I was going to... Oh stars. Oh void. The implications..." His head dropped into his hands, the paper falling to the floor. "If I stop now... if I... twenty-three years. My life's work. But if they... if they're really..."
Silence.
A broken sound escaped him, sothing between a laugh and a sob. "A good man's work in evil hands is still evil, isn't it? Even if... even if he didn't know. Even if he didn't want to know."
The golem stood motionless as Kim wrestled with his thoughts, the only sound in the laboratory being his ragged breathing and the occasional clink of disturbed glassware settling.
Finally, he looked up, eyes red-rimd behind his glasses. "These docunts... the connections they show..." He swallowed hard. "Even if half of this is true, I need to stop. At least until..." His hands clenched. "The Empire needs to know. The Academy board. Soone has to investigate this properly."
The golem moved suddenly, making Kim flinch. But it only reached for a piece of chalk on the nearest desk. Its fingers wrote in precise strokes:
HEADMASTER RRIS HAS BEEN INFORD.
Kim stared at the words. "rris knows? When did he..." He trailed off, then his eyes narrowed. "Who are you? Really? How do you know all of this?"
More chalk scratches: WHO I AM DOESN'T MATTER. THE EVIDENCE DOES.
"Evidence that appeared out of nowhere, delivered by a golem that broke into my lab in the middle of the night," Kim said, but his voice lacked conviction. His eyes kept drifting to his prototype. "If you're right about any of this... if they're really using my work for..."
The golem wrote: DESTROY THE PROTOTYPE. GO TO RRIS. THE EMPIRE NEEDS TO KNOW EVERYTHING.
Kim stared at the prototype - his life's work, countless breakthroughs, years of dedication. "Destroy it? But..." He ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe we could secure it sowhere. In a vault, or..."
THEY HAVE PEOPLE EVERYWHERE, the golem wrote. NOT WORTH THE RISK.
"Twenty-three years," Kim whispered. He looked sick. "All those advancents, the possibilities..." His voice hardened. "But if they're using it for... No. You're right."
Kim's breath hitched. Silence stretched for what felt like hours before he whispered, "Take it." His voice broke. "D-do it. I... I can't. I can't do it myself. Twenty-three years and I... just do it. Please."
The golem moved forward with asured steps, carefully lifting the prototype. It turned back to Kim, who couldn't et its gaze, his head bowed as if the weight of his decision was physically pressing him down.
Through the golem, Adom stared at the device, turning it slowly in his fingers. Such a small thing, to have caused so much death in his tiline. Would cause. Should have caused.
The original intelligence had been wrong. He'd thought it was simple - murderers stealing research from Kim's corpse, fumbling their way to apocalypse. But this? Quite possibly foreign money. Criminal organizations. A web of corruption spreading through multiple empires. It made things more complicated, but also made more sense. The weapon's rapid deploynt in his tiline hadn't been luck. They'd been ready. Waiting.
At least now Kim wouldn't develop it. That would buy ti. Months, maybe years before they found soone else who could piece it together. Ti enough to get to the Crown Prince, currently visiting Arkhos. Ti to show him the sa docunts that had broken Kim's resolve. Ti to start dismantling the networks that had nearly ended the world.
Mr. Fox would need dealing with. Gale too. The whole rotten structure needed to face Imperial justice, not just disappear into shadows to try again.
Adom began thodically dismantling the prototype on Kim's workbench. One fire put out. Bigger ones still burning. But for the first ti since he'd returned, he could see a path forward that didn't end in ashes.
The professor stood with his back turned, but his shoulders twitched at every snap of tal, every crack of crystal components being separated.
"Forgive ," Adom whispered from his classroom, though Kim couldn't hear him.
Crystalline matrices were crushed to powder. Delicate enchantnt lattices unwoven thread by thread. Retention coils snapped. Each piece of Kim's life's work coming apart.
The professor's hands were white-knuckled on the edge of a nearby table. His breathing was uneven, but he didn't look. Not once. Though his trembling got worse when the distinctive sound of the primary core being crushed filled the silent lab.
"Safer this way," Kim mumbled, almost to himself. "Safer. Had to be done. Had to..."
When the last piece lay in ruins, the golem picked up the chalk again:
GO TO RRIS TONIGHT. THESE PEOPLE ARE POWERFUL. YOU NEED PROTECTION.
Kim let out a shaky breath. "No. I... I know soone better." He straightened slightly. "Prince Kalyon is in the city. He's been a friend for years. He'll..." A weak smile. "He'll listen. He has to listen."
The golem nodded slowly, then wrote: BE CAREFUL. TRUST NO ONE ELSE.
"My life," Kim whispered again, finally turning to look at the scattered remains of his work. "But better this than..." He couldn't finish.
Blip.
The golem materialized in front of Adom's desk. This should have felt triumphant. He'd succeeded - shown a good man the truth, prevented sothing terrible. And yet...
Adom felt a deep ache in his chest.
As a researcher himself, he understood. The countless nights of work, the breakthroughs, the setbacks, the monts of inspiration - all of it sacrificed in an instant of painful clarity.
One problem partially handled - though 'handled' felt like too clean a word for what had just happened.
These people wouldn't simply accept their investnt vanishing into thin air. They'd co for Kim, and soon. He needed a way to make them back off, sothing that would keep the professor safe. Another problem to solve, another fire to put out.
But this one... significantly less apocalyptic.
He glanced at the tipiece hovering in the corner of his vision: [1 month, 19 days, 23 hours, 45 minutes]
The numbers pulsed gently as a constant reminder of the other crisis looming over him. The Dragon's Breath situation might be partially defused, but the cure... that couldn't wait. Not with that clock ticking down.
Ti to shift focus. Though the weight of Kim's sacrifice made it hard to simply move on to the next task, the rciless march of those numbers demanded his attention.
*****
Morning.
Adom sat cross-legged in classroom 3B, early morning sun hitting the glass vials arranged around him. It slled of chalk dust and old wood and milk that turned bad weeks ago.
...Maybe months ago.
Failed alchemical arrays covered the floor, their runic patterns half-erased but still visible in the dusty stone.
"For God's sake" Adom muttered as he adjusted his glasses, activating Riddler's Bane as he studied the open grimoire. The hidden notes shimred into view - cramped handwriting filling the margins with observations and corrections.
"Water, fat, protein," he muttered, checking the mixture in the nearest vial. "Simple components, complex arrangent."
His first attempt went exactly as expected - the liquid turned an unpleasant shade of yellow and started smoking. The second wasn't much better, though at least nothing curdled this ti.
By the fifth try, he was beginning to see the pattern. Through Riddler's Bane, he could track how the components moved and interacted. The fat molecules didn't just need to be distributed - they needed to form specific structures. The proteins had to fold in particular ways.
"It's not about forcing the change," he realized, watching another failed attempt swirl in its vial. "It's about... guiding it."
The next hour passed in a blur of attempts and adjustnts. Each failure taught him sothing new. Too much fire destabilized the proteins. Too little left the fat improperly distributed. The balance had to be perfect.
On his twelfth try, sothing clicked. He could see exactly where he'd been going wrong. It wasn't about power at all - it was about precision. Understanding. Working with the substance's nature rather than against it.
He drew the circle again, more carefully this ti. Five smaller circles around the edge, each with its rune precisely placed. The vial of water-fat-protein mixture went in the center.
This ti, when he activated the circles, everything flowed naturally. Fire separated the components without breaking them. Water maintained the right consistency. Air distributed everything evenly. Earth stabilized the new structures. Mana bound it all together.
The liquid turned white, then thickened slightly. No smoke. No odd slls. Just... milk.
Adom picked up the vial, holding it to the light. Perfect consistency. He uncorked it and took a cautious sniff. Then a small sip.
It tasted like milk. Actual, proper milk.
He set the vial down among its failed predecessors, a small smile tugging at his lips. One tiny step closer to understanding the principles he'd need for the cure.
The clock in his vision pulsed: [1 month, 19 days, 11 hours, 32 minutes]
Ti to clean up and get to his next class. But first, he carefully copied the successful circle configuration into his notebook. He had a feeling he'd need it again soon.
Adom trudged through the academy grounds, mind heavy with yesterday's ss.
By now, Bob should be halfway to his father's position. Adom checked his tipiece - if the leprechaun kept the pace he promised, he'd arrive soon enough. Just had to trust he'd make it in ti.
Then there was the Professor's disappearance.
Hugo had caught Adom at dawn, outside the club. The young man's usual smirk was gone, replaced by genuine concern. "He's not in his lab," Hugo had said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Always there when I check in the morning. Always. But today? Nothing. No notes, no signs of work, just... empty."
Adom rubbed his temples. The Professor wouldn't just vanish, not with everything at stake. Not when they were so close to-
A scream ripped through the morning air.
Then another.
Students were rushing toward the eastern gate, a crowd forming faster than morning dew. Adom felt his stomach drop. Sothing was wrong. Very wrong.
"Holy shit!" Soone yelled from ahead.
"Don't get closer-"
"Is that blood?"
"Soone call a professor!"
Adom shoved his way through the growing mass of bodies, dread building with each step.
Through the wall of uniforms and morning robes, he caught a glimpse of soone crouched at the gates. His heart stopped. Gus. The usually cheerful second-year was hunched over sothing, his shoulders shaking. Blood stained his academy robe.
"Gus?" Adom pushed forward, but a hand grabbed his shoulder.
"Stay back!" Crowley's voice cut through the chaos. The professor strode through the parting crowd. "Everyone back to your classes. Now!"
Nobody moved.
"I said NOW!" Crowley's mana crackled around him, making the air heavy. That got them moving.
Then Crowley saw who was at the gate. "Mr. Howl?"
Gus looked up, face streaked with tears and dirt, lips trembling as he tried to form words. His hands shook as they cradled Gizmo's body, fingers running over and over the salamander's dulled scales like he could sohow bring back their shine.
"Giz... Gizmo..." His voice cracked. Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks as he hugged the familiar closer, rocking slightly. "He was just... he was just trying to..."
"Easy, son." Crowley knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Take your ti. What happened exactly?"
"We... we were coming out of the guild." Gus drew several shaky breaths, trying to steady himself. "Late night research. Gizmo was... was playing with the light crystals like always..." A sob caught in his throat. "Four n. Didn't see their faces. Dark robes, with masks. They surrounded us and started asking about so student. A Law. Said they needed to find him."
Murmurs rippled through the remaining students. Adom's heart pounded against his ribs. Law. The na he'd given when he first introduced himself to Cisco.
"I told them I didn't know any Law," Gus continued, his words coming faster now, more desperate. "Said there were hundreds of students here. They got angry. Started shouting. Said they knew he was here. When I couldn't... when I wouldn't..." He clutched Gizmo closer, his whole body trembling. "They were Fluid users. Gizmo sensed them getting angry first. He always knew... always protected ... he tried... breathed fire at them, but they just... they just..."
His voice dissolved into broken sobs, burying his face against Gizmo's cold scales. The familiar that had been his constant companion for three years, that small warm presence that would curl around his neck during lectures, now lay lifeless in his arms.
"Professor," one of the teachers stepped forward. "Should we alert-"
"Get a raven and inform the headmaster." Crowley's eyes never left Gus. "Now."
Adom watched as Crowley helped Gus up, the boy still cradling his dead familiar. The morning sun caught the tears on Gus's face, the blood on his hands, the terrible stillness of what had been, just yesterday, a mischievous little salamander that would warm up students' hands and leave scorch marks on classroom ceilings.
They were looking for him. And they were willing to kill to find him.
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