Ren awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and a gnawing sense of unease. Kaela's words from the previous day echoed in his mind: Someone tampered with the construct. It wasn't the kind of thing he could easily ignore, even if every instinct told him to steer clear.
The academy's daily rhythm had resumed as if nothing had happened. Students hurried to classes, their chatter blending with the distant hum of magical wards that protected the sprawling campus. Ren blended into the background, slipping into his assigned duties with practiced ease. Being unnoticed was a skill he had honed since arriving in this world, and today he intended to put it to good use.
His destination was the academy archives, a labyrinthine collection of scrolls, tomes, and magical artifacts that spanned centuries. If there was any place to learn about rogue constructs or academy sabotage, it was there.
The archives were a quiet haven, the air thick with the scent of aged parchment and arcane ink. Shelves stretched endlessly in every direction, casting long shadows under the dim, enchanted lanterns. A single elderly archivist sat at the entrance, nodding off behind a desk cluttered with quills and cataloging crystals. Ren slipped past him without a word.
He wandered the aisles, his eyes scanning the labels on the shelves. Construct Theory, Magical Malfunctions, Enchantment Studies... The sheer volume of information was overwhelming. He pulled a few promising volumes from the shelves and settled at a secluded table in the corner.
Hours passed as he sifted through the texts, his frustration mounting. Most of what he found was either too technical to understand or completely irrelevant. But just as he was about to give up, a slim, unassuming journal caught his eye. It was tucked between two massive tomes, its leather cover cracked with age. The title, scrawled in faded gold lettering, read: Experimental Constructs and Their Risks.
Ren opened the journal carefully, its brittle pages threatening to crumble at the edges. The handwriting inside was messy but legible, detailing experiments conducted decades ago. Most of it was dry and overly technical, but one passage stood out:
"Prototype constructs were infused with unstable mana cores to enhance their power. While effective in controlled environments, these cores exhibited volatile behavior when exposed to external interference. Multiple incidents of constructs going berserk were reported, often linked to tampering or sabotage."
Ren's pulse quickened. This was exactly what Kaela had described. But who would tamper with a construct? And why? As he flipped through the journal, a folded piece of parchment slipped out and fluttered to the floor. He picked it up, unfolding it to reveal a hand-drawn map.
The map depicted a section of the academy he didn't recognize, marked with strange symbols and annotations. At the center was a single word: Nexus.
"What the hell is this?" he whispered.
Before he could ponder further, the sound of footsteps echoed through the archives. Ren tensed, quickly tucking the journal and map into his satchel. He ducked behind a shelf just as a group of students entered the room. Their hushed voices carried easily in the stillness.
"Are you sure it's here?" one of them asked, their tone laced with urgency.
"It has to be," another replied. "The professor said the archives hold the key. We just need to find it before anyone else does."
Ren peeked around the corner, his heart racing. The students wore dark cloaks, their faces obscured by hoods. They moved with purpose, their eyes scanning the shelves as if searching for something specific.
He couldn't stay hidden for long. If they found him, they'd have questions he couldn't answer. Quietly, he slipped away, weaving through the aisles until he reached the exit. The archivist was still dozing at his desk, oblivious to the activity around him.
Once outside, Ren took a deep breath, his mind racing. The map, the journal, the cloaked students—it was all connected. But how? And more importantly, what was he supposed to do about it?
Back in his room, Ren spread the map out on the small desk, studying its details. The symbols were unfamiliar, but the annotations seemed to describe some kind of hidden chamber beneath the academy. The word Nexus stood out, its implications unknown but ominous.
He leaned back in his chair, his thoughts a whirlwind. He had stumbled into something far bigger than himself, and the more he tried to avoid it, the deeper he seemed to sink.
"What now?" he muttered to himself.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He stiffened, his hand instinctively reaching for the dagger he had taken to carrying since the construct incident.
"Who is it?" he called out.
"It's me," came Kaela's voice.
Ren hesitated before opening the door. Kaela stood there, her expression unreadable. "We need to talk," she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.
She glanced at the map on his desk, her eyes narrowing. "Where did you get that?"
Ren sighed, realizing there was no point in hiding it. "The archives," he admitted. "It fell out of an old journal about constructs."
Kaela crossed her arms, her gaze intense. "Do you have any idea what you've found?"
"Not really," he said. "But I'm guessing you do."
She nodded. "The Nexus isn't just a place. It's a source of immense power, hidden beneath the academy for centuries. If someone's trying to access it..." She trailed off, her expression darkening. "We have to stop them."
Ren stared at her, a sinking feeling settling in his chest. He had wanted to stay out of the story, to avoid the chaos and danger. But now, it seemed, the story had found him.