The streets of Caelum Benedictio thrummed with life, a chaos that demanded attention at every turn. Skyscrapers reached toward the heavens, their reflective surfaces catching the sunlight and scattering streaks of brilliance onto the smooth stone pathways below. Neon signs flickered with promises of mana-infused coffee, enchanted gadgets, and otherworldly luxuries. The city was alive in every sense, a cacophony of noise, light, and unyielding movement.
We wove through the crowd, Riley at my side, his presence solid and grounding amidst the chaos. The air was thick with a mix of aromas—freshly baked pastries, sizzling meats, and the distinct bitterness of roasted coffee. Every detail tugged at my attention: the subtle shift in a shopkeeper's posture as they whispered to a customer, the rhythmic chime of enchanted trams gliding past, the flicker of a crystalline screen broadcasting the day's news.
Ahead, Samantha sat at a corner table in the café, her head bent over a stack of papers. A pen tapped rhythmically against the tabletop, matching the cadence of her muttered thoughts. The noise of the café—the clinking of cups, the murmur of conversations, the occasional hiss of steaming milk—didn't seem to reach her. She was lost in her world, replaying every detail in her mind like a supercomputer unraveling the threads of the universe. Slip one wrong word to her, and her curiosity would seize it, unraveling the story behind it thread by thread. That relentless drive was what had brought her to us—and, truth be told, it was what made her both invaluable and infuriating.
Her pen stilled mid-tap. She tilted her head, sensing us before we'd even reached her table. Straightening in her chair, she gathered her papers with practiced efficiency, tucking away whatever secrets her mind was untangling. Typical Samantha—always a step ahead, or so she wanted us to think.
"Hey, cuz!" I called out, my voice light but cutting through the hum of the café. "Glad you could take the day off to meet us."
She grinned, sliding her chair back as she rose to greet us. "Of course! My boss isn't a dictator—thankfully. Though, between you and me, I think they pay me the big bucks just to make sense of everyone else's chaos. The Benedict Collective's brilliant, but stiff as a board, you know? Collaboration's been... enlightening."
Riley smirked faintly, his usual wariness softened by the familiarity of the exchange. "That's a diplomatic way of putting it."
Samantha's grin widened. "I've learned to keep my diplomacy sharp. Comes with the territory." She gestured toward the café counter. "But enough about work. What are we drinking?"
I glanced at Riley, whose expression had already soured at the mere mention of coffee. "Surprise me," I said with a sly grin. "Anything that screams adventure."
Riley rolled his eyes. "And anything but battery acid. I'd like to keep my stomach intact, thanks."
"Noted," Samantha said, her grin sharp as ever. "One drink that screams adventure and one cup of the safest sludge on the menu. Be right back."
Samantha returned with a tray balanced in her hands, her grin as sharp as the scent of the steaming drinks she placed in front of us. "For you, Riley," she said, setting a plain cup down with exaggerated care. "The safest drink I could find. Almost flavorless—just the way you like it."
Riley snorted but took the cup without comment. "And for you, Selene," Samantha continued, sliding over a vibrant drink that shimmered faintly in the light. "The barista swears it's drinkable. Let's hope your fox instincts agree."
I sniffed the drink cautiously, smirking. "You really know how to sell it."
"And this," Samantha declared, holding up her own cup, "is my favorite: battery acid. Keeps me sharp. Or so I tell myself."
"Your 'temple' must be proud," I quipped, my attention drawn to the crystalline screen flickering on the café wall. The broadcast shifted, and the smiling anchor's voice filled the air. "Reports continue to emerge following yesterday's arena incident," he announced. The headline scrolling beneath him read: Arena Controversy: Technical Failures Spark Debate Over Safety.
Samantha glanced at the screen, her grin sharpening. "Speak of the devil. The news might save me from one of my long-winded explanations. You're welcome."
The broadcast cut to a stern-faced engineer standing in front of the glowing gates of the arena. His voice was steady, but his words had the rehearsed precision of damage control. "The IBMS is among the most advanced systems of its kind," he began. "This was an isolated incident, and we are conducting a thorough investigation to ensure it doesn't happen again. The arena's Aether-Infused Dissipators, a vital safety measure, may have contributed to the system's interference, and we're working closely with our partners to refine the technology."
Samantha tapped her temple as she turned back to us. "Well, there you have it. The official line."
"And what's your take?" Riley asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.
Samantha sighed, setting her cup down and lowering her voice. "The arena's on lockdown. They're keeping Volkner's identity under wraps—officially—but word's spreading faster than they can control it. People are panicking. Rumors are flying about a hero barely surviving in the heart of the capital. It's a mess."
Selene's ears twitched, her tail swishing behind her. "And the Spire?"
"That's the real spit to the face," Samantha said. "The Spirewright Collective and Aetherforge Syndicate just finished building it—this grand symbol of unity and innovation. Now? It's a joke. The IBMS failure, Volkner's near-death, secrets piling up faster than they're revealed... People are calling it the 'Looming Shadow,' not the Spire of Confluence."
Riley frowned, his expression tightening. "And the academy?"
Samantha took a measured sip of her drink before answering. "The arena's growing uneasy. Between the lockdown and the rumors spreading faster than the news can contain, it's a pressure cooker waiting to blow. The academy grounds, on the other hand, are vast enough to stay under the radar. It's practically its own city—separate enough to keep you out of the spotlight but close enough to stay informed."
Selene's ears twitched, her tail brushing the chair as she leaned back, thoughtful. "So, keep to the academy grounds, avoid the arena. Sounds like a plan."
Riley's smirk returned, tinged with sarcasm. "Wonderful. Sticking close to a hub of heroes sounds like the perfect place to not get noticed."
Samantha's grin remained unshaken. "You'd be surprised how much noise makes it easier to disappear. Besides," she added, her voice dropping slightly, "lingering there gives you access to the right people—those who can answer the questions you'll eventually need to ask. It's not just safety; it's strategy."
Selene met Riley's gaze, a silent exchange passing between them. Finally, Riley shrugged. "She's not wrong."
"Well, there's a first time for everything," Samantha said, her tone light but her eyes sharp. She leaned back in her chair, the picture of casual confidence, but I knew better. Beneath her calculated ease, she was always watching, always thinking three steps ahead. "Stay sharp," she added, her voice soft but firm. "And don't underestimate how quickly this city's mood can shift. The academy might feel like a safe haven, but it's still part of Caelum Benedictio—and this place doesn't forget, nor does it forgive.