A gentle breeze caressed the undulating grasslands while graceful swans traced shimmering arcs in the morning sky. Their elegant flight awakened Acacia from his daze. He stretched, wincing as his spine protested its fusion with the Elysium's deluxe seating. Beside him, Pandora hunched over a stack of paper. Her silver hair was a curtain for gold eyes that hadn't lifted for hours.

  "I'm surprised you could sleep on this thing. Never knew train seats could feel like clouds," he remarked, studying the map embedded in the table before them.

  "I didn't sleep. Some of us have actual work to do." Pandora's voice emerged muffled through her hands.

  "Well, I'm surprised you could stay awake this long. I thought your age would be showing by now." He traced their route across the digital display, measuring the distance left to travel.

  "Don't." She raised her head just enough to fix him with a glare. "First of all, I'm twenty-three. Second, some of us can't just nap away our responsibilities like teenagers."

  "I wasn't going to mention the age thing again," Acacia protested, though he couldn't quite suppress his smile. Her irritability had taken on a new edge since they'd boarded, and he found himself wondering at its source.

  "Map says we'll reach Windsor in about half an hour, right around sunrise." He leaned back, satisfaction creeping into his voice. "I wonder what it's really like. It has to be better than Ocarina, at least—"

  Pain lanced through his temple, sharp enough to cut off his words. His hand flew to his head, pressing against the sudden ache.

  "You okay?" Pandora raised an eyebrow as her attention shifted from her paperwork to Acacia.

  "Just a weird headache. It'll pass."

  "Air pressure," she said, returning to her documents. "Windsor's windmills create constant atmospheric fluctuations. Most people adjust quickly, especially those who can use Enhancement or Air spells to compensate." She paused, something flickering behind her eyes before she added, "Though I suppose that's not particularly helpful in your case."

  The observation hung between them, neither accusation nor pity, simply fact. Acacia let it pass, his attention drawn to the landscape flowing past their window. Fields gave way to the first signs of authentic civilization as scattered buildings grew denser with each passing minute. Even from this distance, he could make out the distinctive shapes of windmills with their massive sails cutting lazy arcs through the morning air.

  This was his new home.

  The thought settled strangely in his chest; it wasn’t welcome or unwelcome. It was merely present—just like the persistent throb in his temple that seemed to pulse in congruence with each rotation of those distant windmills.

  Pandora released a long sigh, letting her head fall back against the celestial comfort of the cushioning as if gravity had finally claimed victory over her usual composure. She was finally free from the barbed shackles of her paperwork.

  "If you hate paperwork so much," Acacia mused, "why choose to be an Inquisitor? There are less demanding positions. Court Marshal, maybe. Or even IPA—"

  "No."

  The word fell between them like a blade.

  "...Come again?"

  “I said no." Pandora’s voice hardened. "You saw how they operate in Ocarina. They were ready to execute you on surface-level evidence that wouldn't survive a proper trial, let alone scrutiny from the Divine Court. They acted on prejudice against Irregulars rather than pursuit of truth." She straightened, something fierce entering her gaze. "If they were true pursuers of justice, how could their ideals be easily swayed by the demands of subjects and lords?"

  "Yeah, but—"

  "No ‘buts.’ I became an Inquisitor because we pursue truth above all else. The law must be impartial. A noble should face the same justice as an Irregular, a commoner the same scrutiny as a viceroy. Tachyonia Primaria's eyes must view all equally, bending for none."

  Her words carried such weight that Acacia found himself momentarily struck silent.

  “...You really are a pursuer of justice."

  "It's how anyone in the Centrum Supremum should conduct themselves. The fact you see this as remarkable only proves how much the Empire needs to be reformed."

  Silence befell them, weighted with understanding. They'd lived vastly different lives, he realized, paths so divergent that they might never have crossed if not for fate's machinations. The thought stirred something in his mind, prompting him to speak again.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  Before she interrupted him.

  “When I mentioned all of the options you had, you never once thought of returning to where your parents were. Actually, your file didn’t have any information on your parents or relatives.”

  Her expression softened for the slimmest of moments.

  "What happened to them?"

  Fire.

  The memory erupted unbidden. Collapsing houses wreathed in flames, screaming bodies reduced to ash. Everyone he'd loved, admired, sought to protect—all consumed by an inferno that knew neither mercy nor satiation. No matter how far he ran, the world burned crimson.

  It would never stop.

  It would never end.

  The flames would forever tether to his neck like a noose. He was a ghost, a mere phantasm drifting across an ocean of nothingness. That life was forever lost and those flames reduced his heart to cinders, alongside everything else.

  Acacia Belmont didn't truly exist.

  This fa?ade, this false heart beating in his chest, was nothing more than an illusion he maintained.

  Unworthy of living. Never amounting to anything.

  What right did he have to survive when all others perished?

  When the fires of memory finally subsided, he found his voice again, though it emerged hollow.

  “It was just a cruel twist of fate.”

  He couldn't meet her eyes. If he looked up, the phantoms would be there—faces from the past judging his continued existence, mocking his failure to save them. Instead, he moved his gaze on to hands, maintaining a carefully blank expression.

  After 30 minutes or so, the Elysium reached its destination.

  The train whistle pierced the heavy atmosphere, announcing their approach to Windsor Station. Through the window, the first rays of dawn painted a city unlike anything Acacia had imagined. Pristine grasslands stretched towards the horizon, punctuated by massive windmills. The air seemed different here… crisper, fresher, carrying the promise of something new.

  "This is Windsor," Acacia breathed.

  One glance revealed more about the city than any description could convey. Everything bore the mark of careful planning and maintenance, from the perfectly paved roads to the pristine buildings with their carefully tended gardens. Not a scrap of litter marred the scene, not a single structure showed signs of neglect.

  As the Elysium slowed to their platform, Acacia felt something shift in his chest. Whatever this new chapter held, it would be nothing like the life he'd left behind in Ocarina.

  Whether that was a blessing or curse remained to be seen.

  The breeze nearly swept Acacia off his feet as they exited the station. He could even see wind turbines in the outskirts stretching out endlessly, the rhythmic spins creating a symphony that mixed with distant music floating through pristine streets. Subjects strolled leisurely, seemingly at peace with the constant atmospheric dance their city performed.

  "Holy—" Acacia caught himself, remembering Pandora's earlier warning about drawing attention. But the sight before him defied restraint. Windsor was a masterwork of engineering married to natural beauty as its every aspect was carefully crafted to create harmony between technology and environment.

  Pandora gave him a withering look.

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah, chill out. You don't want to attract unnecessary attention, right?"

  He nodded, falling into step beside her as they joined the steady flow of pedestrians. They passed elegant storefronts and restaurants that would have seemed impossibly luxurious in Ocarina.

  "The technology here...it’s like we never left that train," Acacia whispered, unable to completely suppress his wonder.

  "Windsor invested heavily in sustainable infrastructure," Pandora explained, her voice pitched low enough that only he could hear. "Wind power proved more efficient than fossil fuels, and while prana has its uses, it requires significant expertise to harness effectively. At lower levels of mastery, conventional power sources remain more practical."

  The relationship between Thaumaturgy and conventional energy was more complex than Acacia had realized. Most subjects could enhance their daily lives with basic spells, but few possessed the mastery required to power entire cities and much less entire societies. Technology had developed alongside Thaumaturgy out of necessity; the Empire simply didn't have enough high-level Thaumaturges to maintain its infrastructure through prana alone.

  "The Metropolitan and Royal Capitals are grander, but this is home." A rare smile ghosted across Pandora’s features. Her expression then shifted back to its usual stoic mask as she turned to face him.

  "We have considerable work ahead of us today. You're fortunate that it's summer vacation, so there’s no immediate need to handle school enrollment paperwork. However, we still need to establish your identity here, which means shopping, registration, and..." She grimaced. "More paperwork for me to process."

  "Wouldn't have taken you for the shopping type of gal," Acacia astutely remarked, earning another withering look.

  "Was that really your takeaway from everything I just said?"

  "Hey, those wrinkles are showing again when you frown like that."

  Pandora peered down at him, her eyebrows creasing further if that were even possible.

  The boy merely chuckled and waved his hands nonchalantly. “Alright, alright. No more comments about your age, I got it.”

  Feeling pleased, Pandora increased her pace and Acacia matched it without complaint. Windsor's beauty continued to unfold around them with subjects dressed in practical, well-made clothing that spoke of prosperity without ostentation. The atmosphere couldn't have been more different from Ocarina's desperate attempts at grandeur.

  Yet beneath his appreciation, a familiar darkness lurked.

  If they find out that I’m an Irregular…will they still treat me the same as right now? Will I still feel this comfortable?

  Windsor was serene, and Acacia found himself offering a silent prayer that it would remain so. Experience had taught him the futility of such hopes, but something about this city—about the woman striding beautifully beside him—made him want to believe otherwise.

  Even if that belief could prove to just be another illusion.

  silence?

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