The Hidden Faculty Lounge smelled of stale coffee, chalkboard dust, and three centuries of silence.
It was a small, wood-paneled room tucked behind the main lecture hall, accessible only via the sewer tunnel (or a very specific loose brick in the Mens' Lavatory). The air inside was thick and still, preserved by the same stasis wards that had kept the Athenaeum frozen in time.
Elias stepped inside. He took a breath.
It smelled like 998.
"Don't touch anything," Elias whispered.
He walked past a desk cluttered with papers. A quill sat in an inkwell, the feather ragged and chewed on the end. A mug with the slogan World's Okayest Necromancer sat next to a stack of grading papers.
Elias touched the back of a leather armchair. The leather was worn, shaped perfectly to the form of a man who spent too much time sitting and worrying about budgets.
He expected the door to open. He expected Arion to walk in, complain about the price of chalk, and ask if Elias had finished cataloging the Scrolls of Doom. The silence was louder than the city outside.
"Sir?" Rylus asked. The Knight was standing by the door, looking terrified. "This room... the mana density is incredible. Is this a sanctuary?"
"It is a break room," Elias said. "Sit down."
"Sit?" Rylus looked at the leather armchair. "Sir, I am unworthy. This chair belongs to Saint Arion. To sit where the Savior sat..."
"It belongs to a man who spilled gravy on it in 992," Elias said, pointing to a dark stain on the armrest. "Sit. You are making me nervous."
Rylus sat. He perched on the edge of the cushion like it was made of glass.
Elias went to the kitchenette. He found a kettle. He filled it with the water he had condensed in the clock tower. He placed it on a small burner.
He snapped his fingers. [Ignite].
A small, controlled blue flame appeared. (He had learned his lesson from the barn. He kept the mana flow to a trickle).
He opened the jar of petrified tea leaves. He measured them out with the precision of an alchemist handling nitroglycerin.
Five minutes later, he poured two cups.
He handed one to Rylus.
"Drink," Elias commanded.
Rylus took the cup. His hands were shaking. He took a sip.
The Knight blinked. "It tastes... expensive."
"It tastes like oxidation," Elias critiqued, sipping his own. "The leaves have degraded. But... it is acceptable."
Elias poured a third cup—a tiny saucer. He placed it on the floor.
Unit 74 descended from the ceiling. The drone chirped, extended a sensor, and dipped it into the tea.
Whirrr... click. (Analysis: High Caffeine Content. Optimal).
Elias sat in the chair opposite Rylus. He leaned back. For a moment, just a moment, the weight in his chest lightened.
"It is cold in here," Elias noted. "The heating wards must have failed."
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He looked at the wall. There was a crystal embedded in the plaster. It glowed with a faint, pulsing light.
Thermostat, Elias thought. I just need to adjust the ambient temperature.
He stood up. He walked over to the crystal. He placed his hand on it.
"[Warmth]," he whispered.
He pushed a little mana into the crystal.
He forgot to check the label.
It wasn't the thermostat.
It was the Crystal-Vox. The Academy's Public Address System.
The system had been dormant for three hundred years. When Elias’s mana hit it, it woke up with a vengeance. It didn't just activate the speakers in the lounge. It activated every speaker on the campus. The lecture halls. The dorms. The courtyards. Even the bathrooms.
And because Elias was using Void Mana, the signal was amplified.
Elias didn't realize it was on. He just felt the crystal hum, assumed it was working, and walked back to his chair.
He sat down. He took a long, loud sip of tea.
Slurrrrrp.
"SLURRRRRRRP."
The sound boomed across the Academy grounds. It echoed off the marble walls. It shook the windows of the dormitories where the students were hiding.
Outside, the students froze. They heard the wet, terrifying sound of a god drinking the ocean.
"What was that?" a student whispered in the dark. "Is the Void Monster... thirsty?"
Inside the lounge, Elias sighed. A long, satisfied sound.
"Ah... finally."
"AH... FINALLY."
The voice was deep, resonant, and sounded like it was coming from the sky itself.
Rylus looked around. "Sir? Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Elias asked. He looked at the plate of scones on the table.
They were stone-hard relics from the vault, preserved by magic but definitely stale.
"Rylus," Elias said. "Pass me a scone. These are stale."
"PASSS... MEEE... A... SCONEE..."
The words rolled across the campus like thunder.
"THESEEE... ARE... STALEEE."
In the Main Courtyard, the Seekers—the elite Mage Hunters dispatched by the Council—froze. They looked up at the gargoyles.
"The signal!" Leader Kaelen shouted, pointing his staff. "It's coming from the Lost Wing! The Heretic is broadcasting!"
"He demands pastries!" another Seeker yelled. "It is a code! A ritual invocation!"
"Breach the wall!" Kaelen ordered. "Silence him!"
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The far wall of the lounge shook. Dust rained from the ceiling.
Rylus jumped up, spilling his tea. "Sir! They found us! The scones betrayed us!"
Elias frowned. He looked at the crystal on the wall. It was glowing bright red.
"Oh," Elias said. "That was not the thermostat."
BOOM.
A crack appeared in the plaster. Violet light spilled through—Tier-4 [Breach] spells were hammering the hidden door.
"They are interrupting my break," Elias said, offended. "This is a violation of labor laws."
"We are trapped!" Rylus shouted, grabbing his sword. "There is no exit!"
Elias looked around. The door to the tunnel was too slow. The wall was caving in.
His eyes landed on the far wall. There was a row of massive brass pipes running floor to ceiling.
Inter-Departmental Mail Chutes.
They were pneumatic tubes used to send scrolls and artifacts between the towers. They were wide enough for a large parcel. Or a small librarian.
"The tubes," Elias said.
He ran to the wall. He wrenched the hatch open. Air hissed out.
"Get in," Elias ordered.
Rylus stared at the tube. "Sir. That is for envelopes. I am a fully armored man. I will get stuck."
"You will not," Elias said. "I will apply [Grease]."
"No! Not the friction spell again!"
CRASH.
The wall behind them exploded. Inquisitor Kaelen stepped through the rubble, his staff glowing.
"HERETIC!" Kaelen roared. "SURRENDER YOUR SCONES!"
Elias pointed his staff at Rylus.
"[Lubricate]."
Rylus suddenly looked very shiny.
Elias shoved the Knight into the tube.
"Go!"
THWUMP.
Rylus was sucked upward with a scream that Doppler-effected away instantly.
Unit 74 chirped and flew into the tube after him.
Elias looked at Kaelen. He looked at his tea cup. It was still half full.
He drank the rest in one gulp.
Waste not, want not.
He walked to the sink. He rinsed the cup. He placed it on the drying rack.
"You are very loud," Elias told the Inquisitor.
Then he stepped into the tube.
THWUMP.
He shot upward at fifty miles per hour. It was dark, tight, and smelled bad.
He flew through the walls of the Academy. Up, over, and down.
PTOO.
He was ejected from a brass slot in a different room.
He landed softly in a pile of fabric.
Rylus was already there, groaning, half-buried in blue robes. Unit 74 was spinning dizzily in the air.
Elias stood up. He brushed a stray sock off his shoulder.
He looked around. Rows of washing machines hummed. Steam filled the air.
Dormitory Laundry Room.
"That was efficient travel," Elias noted, straightening his robes. "But the landing lacked dignity."
Rylus pulled a pair of wizard undergarments off his helmet.
"I hate magic," Rylus whispered. "I hate it so much."
Elias patted him on the shoulder.
"Come," Elias said. "We are behind enemy lines. And I believe I saw a vending machine."
________________________________________
Status Update Mana Consumed: 0.06% (Broadcast + Lubrication) Current Mood: Ruffled Reputation: "The Scone-Eater" (Legendary Monster) Location: The Laundry Room (Stealth Mode: Activated)
