Morning arrived sluggishly over the Demon Academy, the obsidian spires gleaming faintly as dawn's silver washed against their edges.

The quiet of night had not yet fully faded, and most students were still comfortably tucked into their beds, nursing their weariness after the intensity of yesterday's class.

However, Albedo was awake, as he was sitting on the edge of his bed, rolling his shoulders as the faint ache of last night's training reminded him of what happened.

He also flexed his fingers, as his body was still adapting to the Demonic Energy he had minor success in controlling.

The knock at his door came softly, but with precision, three measured taps. Albedo rose at once, already certain of who it was. When he pulled the door open, crimson eyes stared back at him from beneath a dark hood.

"Good morning, sunshine," Lilian said, her lips quirked, her tone mocking. "Or do you not sleep at all? You look like you've been gnawed on by a storm."

Albedo's smirk was mild and effortless as he responded, "Perhaps I have."

She arched a brow but didn't press further. Instead, she flicked her gaze down the hall. "Follow me. Not here. Too many ears."

The two of them moved swiftly, Lilian leading the way with a natural ease through the quiet halls, weaving past some of the early bird students who were walking around.

She guided him past silent corridors, then into an unused courtyard where ancient statues of long-dead Demon Kings loomed, their stone eyes gazing endlessly over the abandoned square.

Here, Lilian stopped. She turned on her heel, her cloak falling back slightly to reveal a flash of crimson hair as she studied him. The more Lilian studied Albedo, her expression shifted from playful disdain to something sharper and keener.

For a long breath she simply stared, and Albedo, as always, endured the weight of her scrutiny without flinching.

"…You've done it," she said at last. Her voice was low, strained, and for once it lacked her usual mocking bite and was more...shocked or surprised.

Albedo raised a brow, feigning innocence, "Done what?"

Her gaze sharpened, cutting into him like a blade, "Don't you dare play coy with me. I can feel it, your aura has shifted slightly. It's darker, rougher, like broken glass wrapped around flame. I can feel it, Albedo. You've touched Demonic Energy."

She stepped closer, searching his eyes, her pupils narrowing to slits. "How?"

Her words were sharp, but her heart skipped a beat even as she said them. She had thought herself prepared for whatever madness he conjured, but this… this was impossible.

She remembered her own first attempt at absorbing it, the corrosive burn ripping through her veins, the days of agony spent forcing her body not to collapse under its corruption. Even with her heritage, her bloodline, her painstakingly honed affinity, it had nearly broken her.

And here he stood, casual, collected, as if it were nothing more than learning a new spell. It caused her to rethink a-lot of things, especially related to her own talent, and if she and Celeste really ever stood a chance compared to the monster standing before them.

Sure enough, as she was deep in these thoughts, Albedo's smirk widened, eyes gleaming faintly with Source Code light, "Maybe I'm talented."

Lilian blinked, momentarily thrown by the audacity. Talented? That's his explanation? Her hands curled into fists beneath her cloak. "Talent," she repeated under her breath, her mind racing.

She thought back to the countless prodigies of the Demon Nobility, children trained from birth to endure the corruption, and how many of them still failed. And yet here was Albedo, common-born, barely integrated into their world, mocking her with that infuriating calm.

He leaned closer slightly, his voice low, teasing. "Or maybe it's because of you. You inspire me, Lilian."

Her face went red instantly, though she fought it with every ounce of pride she possessed. "M-me? Don't, don't twist this around! I didn't do anything,"

He chuckled softly, his tone maddeningly smooth. "Exactly. You didn't. That makes it even more impressive, doesn't it?"

Her breath hitched as she heard him speak, looking directly at Albedo as she thought.

'What are you?'

Her eyes narrowed as she searched his face for cracks, for any hint that this was a bluff. But there was nothing. Only that infuriating calm, that smirk that said he knew exactly what kind of storm he had stirred inside her.

Finally, Lilian tore her gaze away, hiding the turmoil in her chest behind a sharp exhale. "You really enjoy testing my patience."

"It's one of my talents," he murmured.

Her crimson eyes darted back to him, narrowing again, but she didn't argue. Instead, she reached into her cloak and pulled free a slim, rune-etched folder. The air around it vibrated faintly, enchanted wards humming like caged bees.

"Here," she said shortly, shoving it toward him.

Albedo accepted it without hesitation, raising a brow as he felt the weight of the enchantments. "What is it?"

"A file," she answered coolly. "On Hecate's subordinates here at the Academy. Their classes, their habits, their affiliations. Every snake hidden in her web."

Albedo flipped it open, scanning the meticulous notes and faces captured in arcane ink. His lips curled in amusement. "Comprehensive."

"You should be grateful," she snapped, though her voice lacked its usual sharpness. "If anyone knew I handed this to you, I'd be in deep trouble. Don't mistake this for kindness."

He glanced up, meeting her eyes with a look that pierced deeper than she wanted to admit. "Then why?"

Lilian faltered. For an instant, she wanted to tell the truth—that she was rattled, that something about him unsettled her foundation, that she couldn't decide if he was a threat or an opportunity. But pride was her armor, and she refused to let him see the cracks.

"…Because if Hecate's pawns move against you, it affects me too," she said instead, her tone sharp "And I don't like being anyone's pawn."

Albedo's smile deepened, slow and knowing. "So it's self-interest."

Her face burned hotter, and she forced herself to hold his gaze despite the storm of thoughts swirling beneath her calm mask.

She exhaled, crossing her arms and glaring at him as though that could anchor her. "…Is that all you wanted to do? To sit here and smirk while I waste my time?"

Albedo chuckled as he heard that, just looking down at the folder and flicking it open once again, his eyes gliding over the inked portraits and detailed notes.

The runes shifted faintly on the parchment, updating with every heartbeat, a living record of the Academy's undercurrents.

His gaze sharpened as he traced the spiderweb of affiliations. Nobles, half-bloods, ambitious stragglers all strung together by invisible threads, the diagram of a web spun carefully by Hecate's hand.

"Interesting," he murmured, brushing his thumb along the edge of one page before glancing up at Lilian. "Which one should I focus on?"

The question hung in the courtyard like baited steel. Lilian's expression flickered, her lips parting as if to cut him down with a sarcastic remark, but no such words came.

Instead, she studied him in silence, crimson eyes narrowed, her mind moving as fast as his. She exhaled through her nose, stepping closer until her shadow brushed against his.

She leaned slightly, plucking three pages from the folder with delicate precision and tapping each one as she spoke.

"These three," she said.

Her fingertip rested first on a pale-faced youth with sharp features and hair like spun silver. "Veyron Bloodveil. A minor subordinate family of the DuskVeil family, arrogant, ambitious. He latches onto stronger figures like a leech and feeds off their scraps. He'll never rise on his own, but he's dangerous because he knows when to grovel and when to strike."

She slid her finger to the next, a woman with obsidian hair cascading down her shoulders and a thin smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Selira Veilborne. Another vampire, cleverer than she pretends to be. She's subtle, patient, more spider than leech. Her web isn't wide, but it's tight, and she's loyal to Hecate because Hecate gives her exactly what she craves: recognition."

Her finger moved again, this time to a broad-shouldered demon with burnished skin and cruel eyes. His jaw was square, his frame muscled like a war hound. "And him. Darion Kareth. Standard noble demon, nothing too impressive on the surface. But he's brash, violent, and he thrives in chaos. Hecate uses him as her blunt instrument. If you draw her ire, it'll be his fist you feel first."

Albedo studied the three with silent interest, committing every line, every note, every whispered rumor to memory. His smirk returned, faint but sharp, as he closed the folder with a snap.

"Veyron, Selira, Darion," he repeated softly, like an incantation. "Three threads of her web."

When his eyes rose to meet Lilian's again, there was something unreadable in them. Amusement, perhaps, or a dangerous curiosity. "You've been thorough. More than thorough. I should thank you."

Her lips pressed into a line, and she scoffed, turning her face slightly to the side as if that could hide the faint warmth creeping into her cheeks. "Don't flatter yourself. I did it because I'm not interested in watching Hecate tighten her grip here. That's all."

"Of course," Albedo said smoothly, his voice edged with that same insufferable calm.

She clicked her tongue, folding her arms tight against her chest. Her gaze cut back to him, sharper now, her voice dropping low. "Listen to me, Albedo. I don't care what you do with this information. I don't care if you burn every pawn she has alive. But don't, "

her eyes flared, glowing like molten garnets under the pale light, ",don't you dare get caught. Not by them. Not by her. If you draw too much attention, I can't protect you. No one can, and I don't want to be caught in a diplomatic hellstorm,"

For the first time, her words carried no mockery, no hidden barbs—only a raw seriousness that pressed against the air between them.

Albedo inclined his head slightly, almost like a bow, though the smirk never left his lips. "Noted. I'll be careful."

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