CHAPTER 266: INFILTRATION [1]

Alaric sat in the class, taking notes on Professor Aldric’s lecture about resonance patterns.

But his mind was elsewhere.

The memory crystal’s contents had kept him up late. Old records. Sealed investigations. Names that appeared repeatedly across different incidents spanning years.

Someone was building a database. Tracking patterns. Looking for something specific.

But what?

He needed more information.

Real information, not some speculation.

The class around him continued.

Oliver sat slumped in his place, pretending to take notes while his head kept dipping forward as if sleep were dragging him down by the chin.

Beside him, Lyria wrote with mechanical precision, shoulders twitching every time he shifted.

He turned his head slightly, taking in her rigid posture, the distant expression, and the heavy dark circles bruising her eyes, clearly sign of too many sleepless nights.

His eyes narrowed as he noticed clearly now.

That hollow stare... like she’d seen or done something she never should have.

What happened to her?

Eventually he faced forward again.

A shame. Such beauty wasted.

Yeah, Lyria wasn’t any ordinary girl next door.

Her silver hair flowed down her back, catching the light in a way that made her look almost unreal, like a portrait that somehow stepped out of the frame.

And those amethyst eyes... striking enough to make anyone forget whatever they are doing.

Then his gaze shifted to the empty place, where Verelia used to sit.

She hadn’t shown up today too.

Yes, it’s been two days since the result, and Verelia had been skipping her lectures.

Which was unusual for someone like her.

Not my problem. She will be fine in a day or two.

He began scribbling. Mind already racing what to do next, he had better things to do.

As the class ended, he made his way to the library’s reference section.

Not the restricted archives but the publicly accessible records that most students ignored.

Historical Academy rosters. Staff employment records. Building maintenance logs.

These were tedious. Boring.

Exactly the kind of information people overlooked.

He pulled several volumes, spreading them across a study table in a quiet corner.

Oliver had asked to study together, but Alaric had declined. This required focus.

The employment records showed staff turnover. Normal enough—people retired, moved on, were replaced. But certain positions had unusually high turnover rates.

Archives assistant. Administrative clerk. Maintenance supervisor.

Three positions that rotated personnel every six to eight months. Far more frequently than other roles.

Interesting.

He cross-referenced those positions with current staff.

Elena was listed as archives assistant. Hired eight months ago.

The administrative clerk was someone named Thomas Verne. Hired seven months ago.

Maintenance supervisor: Henry Drell. Six months.

All relatively recent. All in positions that granted access to sensitive areas or information.

Alaric committed the names to memory and returned the volumes.

He needed to confirm his suspicions without drawing attention.

The archives were obvious. He requested several historical texts for a "research project" on essence theory development. The request brought him face to face with the current archives assistant.

Not Elena.

A different person, bit older, gray-haired, wearing the standard uniform.

Alaric engaged in polite conversation while his Scanner activated.

There were normal readings.

So not everyone in that role is suspicious. Just Elena.

He thanked the assistant and left with his books.

Next was administration. Harder to justify being there, but he manufactured a reason, questions about his course registration for next term.

The clerk who helped him was efficient, professional, and completely unremarkable.

Scanner showed normal readings.

But Thomas Verne wasn’t at the desk. According to the schedule posted near the entrance, he worked evening shifts.

Alaric filed that away and continued his routine.

---

Two more days passed in a blink.

Alaric found himself in the Administration Building again, this time with a manufactured complaint.

When he entered, he saw Thomas Verne sitting at the main desk.

He seemed to be in his mid-thirties, brown hair, unremarkable features. The kind of face that blended into crowds.

"I can file a maintenance request," Thomas said, pulling out the appropriate form. "What’s your room number?"

"2-C, Silver Crown House."

As Thomas wrote, Alaric activated the Scanner.

[Target Status!]

Name: Thomas Verne

Race: Human

Age: 34

Essence Path: ...Error (Upgrade system level for full information.)

There it was.

The same error Elena had shown. The same "wrong" feeling Nyra had described.

Alaric kept his expression neutral as Thomas handed over the form. "Maintenance will check it tomorrow."

"Thank you."

Walking away, Alaric’s mind catalogued the information.

Two confirmed. Elena and Thomas. Both showing system errors. Both in positions granting information access.

He needed to find the third, Henry Drell, maintenance supervisor.

The maintenance offices were located in the Academy’s lower levels, near storage and utility areas students rarely visited.

Alaric waited until late afternoon, then headed down carrying a broken essence lamp he’d deliberately damaged. Plausible reason to be there.

The maintenance office was cluttered, tools, spare parts, work orders pinned to boards. An older woman sat at the desk, working through paperwork.

"Help you?"

"Looking for the supervisor. I have a damaged lamp that needs repair."

The woman looked at his Silver Crown badge and nodded.

"Henry is checking the eastern wing boilers. Should be back in twenty minutes. You can wait or leave it."

"I’ll wait."

She shrugged and returned to her paperwork.

Alaric sat on a bench, apparently patient, while his mind worked.

Twenty minutes later, a man entered, tall, muscular build, dark hair graying at the temples.

He carried himself with the efficient movements of someone who worked with his hands.

"You needed something?" Drell asked.

Alaric stood, holding up the lamp. "Wondering if this is repairable or needs replacement."

Drell took it, examining the damage with practiced eyes. As he turned it over, Alaric activated the Scanner.

[Target Status!]

Name: Henry Drell

Race: Human

Age: 41

Essence Path: ...Error – (Upgrade system level for full information.)

Three for three.

"Can fix this," Henry said, setting it aside. "Check back tomorrow."

"Appreciate it."

As Alaric left, his suspicions solidified into certainty.

Three people. All showing the same system error. All hired within the last eight months. All positioned to access different aspects of Academy operations.

Coordinated. Well organized.

Still he still didn’t know why.

He had been careful about gathering information without raising alarms.

But he needed more than just confirmation these people existed. He needed to know what they were doing.

Nyra had reported Elena accessing old records. What if the others were doing similar things in their respective areas?

Thomas in administration would have access to current student files, faculty schedules, Academy correspondence.

Henry in maintenance would have access to the entire physical campus, every room, every passage, every restricted area under the guise of "repairs."

Information gathering. But to what end?

Late one evening, Alaric positioned himself near the maintenance access corridor on the eastern side of campus.

An old passage, rarely used by students, mostly for staff moving equipment.

He’d noticed Henry entering this area twice in the past three days, always carrying the same worn leather satchel. Always staying for fifteen to twenty minutes before leaving.

Tonight, Alaric watched from a shadowed alcove as Henry entered again.

He waited five minutes.

Then followed.

The corridor was dimly lit, lined with storage closets and utility rooms. He moved quietly, tracking the faint sound of movement ahead.

Henry had stopped at a particular door, which was locked, marked with maintenance symbols. He produced a key and entered.

Alaric approached carefully, pressing close to the wall, trying to see through the narrow window in the door.

Inside, Henry was... writing? No. Copying something from a ledger into a smaller notebook.

Then he reached into his satchel and pulled out several small packages, placing them carefully on a shelf behind other supplies.

But Alaric couldn’t see what they were from this angle.

Henry finished, tucked his notebook away, and turned toward the door.

Alaric moved fast, back down the corridor, into a side storage room, pulling the door mostly closed.

Through the crack, he watched Henry emerge, lock the door, and head back the way he’d come.

Once the footsteps faded, Alaric emerged.

The door henry had used was locked. No way to get inside without either picking the lock, which he didn’t have tools for, or finding another key.

Dead end. For now.

But he’d seen enough to know his suspicions were correct.

Whatever these three were doing, it involved physical items being moved, information being recorded, and coordination across multiple access points.

---

Alaric sat at his desk, reviewing everything he’d learned.

Three infiltrators, for lack of a better term. Positioned strategically. Gathering information and moving items the Academy wouldn’t notice missing from storage or records.

But to what purpose? And for whom?

Nyra entered with evening tea. "Any progress, young master?"

"Some. I’ve confirmed three individuals showing the same anomalies as Elena. All hired recently, all in key positions."

"A coordinated infiltration."

"Yes. But I can’t determine their objective yet. They’re gathering information and moving physical items, but I don’t know where it’s going or why."

Nyra was quiet for a moment. "Should we report this to the Academy?"

Alaric considered that. "With what evidence? Suspicious behavior that could be explained away as normal work? We need something concrete."

"Then what’s the next step?"

"I need access to that maintenance room Henry was using. See what he’s storing there. That might give us actual evidence."

"Breaking in is risky."

"I know." Alaric leaned back. "But watching from outside isn’t getting us answers fast enough."

He looked at Nyra directly. "Can you get me inside that room without leaving traces?"

She met his gaze steadily. "Yes."

"Then we do it tomorrow night. Carefully. If we’re caught, the consequences are severe."

"Understood."

After Nyra left, Alaric stood at his window, looking out over the dark campus.

Somewhere out there, people were playing a game he didn’t fully understand yet.

But he was getting closer.

Piece by piece.

Question by question.

And eventually, he’d have enough to act.

He just hoped it would be soon enough.