The summons wasn't dramatic.
That's what made it dangerous.
Lys stood alone in the academy's central chamber, a circular room layered with old stone and newer materials that refused to be named. No training platforms. No observers. Just five figures seated in an arc above him.
Faculty.
Not teachers.
Governors.
"You've advanced faster than anticipated," one of them said.
Lys didn't respond. He waited.
"Control training was approved," another continued. "Escalation refinement was not."
"That wasn't escalation," Lys said calmly. "It was reduction."
A pause.
"From our perspective," the first replied, "you shortened a city-killing weapon into a surgical one."
Lys met their gaze. "That's the point."
A third governor leaned forward. "The point is that even restrained, you are beyond our containment models."
Silence settled.
Then the words landed.
"There will be limits," the governor said. "Effective immediately."
A projection ignited between them.
ACADEMY DIRECTIVE 17-A
Seraphim Breath training restricted
Burst duration capped
Independent deployment prohibited outside supervised sessions
Lys felt something twist in his chest—not anger.
Disappointment.
"You're afraid," he said.
"Yes," one governor answered without hesitation. "And that fear is justified."
"Then you're teaching me the wrong lesson."
The room stilled.
Nyra and Elda stood near the door now, tense but silent. Kaien watched from the shadows along the wall, expression unreadable.
"What lesson is that?" a governor asked.
"That restraint doesn't matter," Lys said. "That no matter how careful I am, I'll still be treated like a threat."
The governors exchanged looks.
"Restraint matters," one said carefully. "But survival matters more."
Lys clenched his hands. His claws did not emerge.
"That's the difference between us," he said quietly. "I'm learning how not to end things. You're preparing for when I do."
A long pause.
Finally, the central governor spoke.
"You will comply," they said. "Or the academy will reevaluate your presence here."
That was the ultimatum.
Train under limits.
Or leave.
Lys looked up at them, eyes steady.
"Then understand this," he said. "If you limit my control, you're choosing the conditions under which I lose it."
No threat.
A statement.
He turned and walked out.
In the hallway, Nyra exhaled sharply. "They're idiots."
Elda was quieter. "They're afraid."
Kaien pushed off the wall, finally speaking. "So," he said, "what do you do when the place meant to teach restraint starts teaching fear?"
Lys didn't answer immediately.
But inside him, something settled.
Not power.
Resolve.
Because now the dragon had sharpened.
Lys wasn't just training anymore.
He was running out of places allowed to teach him control.
And when those places closed…
The world would have to live with what it created.