The chamber was silent, except for the faint hum of Ether locks embedded in the walls. The reinforced containment field shimmered faintly around Kael, reflecting the fractured violet and silver light from his own Ether core.
> [Containment Status: Active — Void resonance stabilized at 92%]
Kael sat cross-legged on the crystalline floor, testing the limits of the barrier with tiny pulses of Void energy. Each ripple was absorbed, dampened, and redirected by the layered Ether locks.
"Predictable," he muttered, watching the soft blue shimmer bend the edge of his power.
Across the chamber, a console displayed real-time monitoring: Void activity, Space distortions, energy fluctuations — every heartbeat recorded. The room was designed not to punish him, but to contain the potential destruction of an entire sector.
A voice came through the chamber speakers — calm, precise, almost mechanical.
> "Subject Kael Ardyn. Observation in progress. Containment parameters optimized to prevent dimensional collapse. Attempted breaches will trigger immediate reinforcement."
Kael smirked. "Friendly."
He focused, stretching his senses outward, feeling the barrier as though it were a tangible thing. Void energy flared in small arcs, coiling around the reinforced walls. The system responded instantly, neutralizing the effect before it could grow.
> [Warning: Dimensional resonance approaching threshold.]
Kael exhaled. So this was the Academy's first lesson: Observation before combat. Containment before trust.
The door hissed, and a figure entered — a senior monitor, draped in dark indigo robes lined with intricate silver glyphs. Every movement she made left faint trails of Ether light in the air.
"Kael Ardyn," she said, voice cold and analytical, "your containment is stable, but your Void signature is highly volatile. You are… unpredictable."
"And dangerous," Kael added. "I already knew that."
The monitor's eyes narrowed. "Unpredictable is a threat. Dangerous is a liability. Both require observation."
She gestured to the holographic panel. The readings of Kael's Void and Space affinities danced across the air, fluctuating wildly.
"Your energy is… bending containment fields at micro-levels. I recommend limited exertion. Otherwise —"
Kael raised a hand. "Otherwise what?"
"Otherwise you tear through the Academy's defenses before anyone can stop you," she replied flatly.
> [Warning: Void resonance instability — containment alert triggered.]
Kael chuckled faintly, leaning back against the barrier. "So, basically, I'm being babysat."
The monitor's lips twitched, not a smile, but a hint of recognition. "Babysitting is the polite term. Containment is survival. And survival is all the Academy can offer until the Council decides your status."
Kael's gaze drifted upward. The ceiling above the chamber was etched with glowing runes — subtle, intricate designs meant to stabilize dimensional fluctuations. He recognized some shapes from the memory fragments he had glimpsed in the Rift.
Something ancient was alive in these walls. And it was watching him.
> [Observation Log #004 — Subject: Void + Space anomaly. Containment: Stable. Monitoring continues.]
Hours passed. Kael tested his limits subtly — small manipulations of Space, minor absorption of Void remnants in the room. Each time, the containment system corrected the distortions instantly. He wasn't frustrated; he was studying them as much as they were studying him.
At one point, a flicker of shadow moved along the perimeter of the room. Not a person — something mechanical, or perhaps Ether-based. Kael's instincts flared.
> Watcher detected — low-level interference.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. "So the Academy isn't alone."
He leaned back, hands resting on his knees. Contained, yes. Observed, yes. But never truly controlled. Not yet.
And in the stillness, Kael made a silent vow:
> "I'll learn your rules. And then I'll rewrite them."