The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, acidic fumes curling through the air as students scrambled to make sense of their predicament.

  They had been deceived.

  There was no question about it now. The salts they had been given had been tampered with, their preliminary results leading them down a path of uncertainty and confusion. But no matter what trick the elders had played, there was a way forward. They would rely on the confirmatory tests to cut through the deception.

  “There’s no use panicking,” Cassius Falken said, his usual calm demeanor unwavering. “The preliminary tests were misleading, but the confirmatory tests won’t lie.”

  The students nodded, clinging to this one certainty.

  They turned to the four vials that had released gas upon reaction with concentrated sulfuric acid. If they had been deceived, the only way to figure out which one contained chloride was to confirm each anion individually.

  The first vial was subjected to the bromide test—they added chlorine water, and a brown solution formed. Confirmed as bromide.

  The second vial underwent the iodide test—starch-iodide reagent turned deep purple-black. Confirmed as iodide.

  The third vial was tested for nitrate—the classic brown ring appeared with FeSO?. Confirmed as nitrate.

  That left the fourth vial was rechecked for Oxalate - the gas was passed through lime water which turned milky. Confirmed as Oxalate.

  Now based on the elder’s original instructions, there were only three possible salts left: chloride, phosphate, and sulfate.

  The only way forward was to identify phosphate first—by elimination, the remaining two vials would then be either sulfate or chloride.

  The students gathered around as one of the three remaining vials was carefully separated for testing.

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  They added ammonium molybdate to the first of the three vials.

  A bright yellow precipitate formed.

  “That’s phosphate.”

  A small wave of relief passed through the group. At least one thing had gone right. That left two vials. One was sulfate. The other had to be chloride.

  It was time for the final tests.

  They moved with precision.

  The sulfate test was straightforward—adding barium chloride should result in an immediate white precipitate of barium sulfate.

  The reagent was added.

  Nothing happened.

  Silence.

  A creeping unease spread through the group.

  “…That’s not possible,” Thorne Nacht said, his voice slow, deliberate. “It should have reacted.”

  “Try again.”

  They did. Still nothing.

  Murmurs of confusion rippled through the group. If that vial wasn’t sulfate, then where was it?

  “…Then it must be chloride,” someone muttered.

  But when they repeated the silver nitrate test for chloride, it failed again.

  There was nothing. No precipitate. No confirmation.

  The realization dawned on them like a slow, suffocating wave.

  The final two vials had no confirmatory reaction.

  The weaker students started to shift uncomfortably. Some flipped desperately through their notes, others simply stared at the test tubes as if willing them to react.

  “What does this mean?”

  “It means,” Cassius said smoothly, “that we’re at an impasse.”

  It was only then that the smarter students stopped pretending.

  Aether’s neutral expression melted into something far more composed, far too calm for someone who was supposed to be panicking.

  Lysandra sighed, shaking her head as if disappointed. “It really took you all this long?”

  Thorne Nacht let out a low chuckle, leaning against the table with a smirk.

  The weaker students froze.

  “…You knew?”

  Valencia Rozen smiled. “We figured it out some time ago.”

  Cassius nodded. “We suspected the elders tampered with the salts before the test even started. And once the preliminary reactions didn’t match what was expected, it was obvious.”

  One of the weaker students clenched their fists. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

  Lysandra tilted her head, feigning curiosity. “Why should we?”

  Aether stepped forward then, his voice level. Calm. Too calm.

  “We could tell you where the real sodium chloride vial is,” he said.

  The weaker students stiffened.

  “…What’s the catch?”

  Aether smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “No catch,” he said. “Just a fair and consensual trade.”

  Lysandra let out a soft laugh. “You all seem to have a lot of resources. Perhaps some rare reagents, some notes that could be… of interest to us.”

  The weaker students looked at one another, their pride clashing with their desperation.

  Some looked ready to refuse.

  But the clock was ticking.

  Minutes passed. Some resisted. Some cursed. Some swallowed their pride.

  But one by one, they paid the price