Chapter 38: Class Evaluation

Lazarus did not go to the library that night.

He read the note twice more under the dim light of his room, memorized the wording, then burned the paper over a small flame until only ash remained. Midnight meetings with anonymous sources were an efficient way to walk into someone else’s plan. The restricted section claim was interesting. The invitation to come alone was not.

He would investigate the records on his own terms, in daylight, through channels that left a trail he controlled. Whoever had left the message could wait.

Morning arrived clear and cool under the Academy’s artificial sky. A notice had been posted on the main board before dawn: Class B would undergo a formal evaluation period after the second lecture. Practical Projection control, short-duration combat application, and basic knowledge verification. Results would be recorded toward mid-term standing.

The timing was inconvenient. It was also useful.

Lazarus ate quickly, exchanged a few quiet words with Madeline about the evaluation format, and headed toward the western halls. The corridors carried a sharper edge than usual. Students spoke in shorter sentences. A few ran last-minute drills in open alcoves. Evaluation days always tightened the atmosphere.

The first two periods passed without disruption. Lazarus completed the assigned work, ignored the occasional lingering stare, and kept his attention on the schedule. When the evaluation period arrived, Class B was directed to one of the larger training halls on the second floor. Formation lines had already been marked on the floor. Three instructors waited at the far end—one Lazarus did not recognize, one secondary combat teacher, and Neron.

Neron stood slightly apart from the other two, pocket watch in hand, golden eyes half-lidded as the students filed in.

Lazarus took a place near the middle of the left-hand group. Madeline was assigned to a different cluster further down the line. Zurbluris and his closer followers occupied positions near the front, as if proximity to the instructors might influence the outcome.

The lead instructor explained the structure without ceremony.

First stage: individual Projection maintenance under distraction. Second stage: short paired exchanges using only Echo-rank summons. Third stage: a brief oral verification of historical context for the Projections used. Scores would be recorded. Outstanding or failing performances would be noted for the mid-term files.

Simple and efficient.

Difficult to manipulate openly.

The first stage began.

Students were called forward in small groups and required to hold a single Echo while answering rapid questions and responding to sudden auditory cues. Most managed adequate control. A few collapsed their Projections under the combined pressure. Lazarus was called in the third group. He summoned the Paper Tiger at reduced size, held it through the full sequence of distractions, and dismissed it cleanly when instructed. The recording instructor made a short note and moved on.

Neron watched without comment.

The second stage created more noise.

Pairs were assigned by lot. Lazarus drew a solid, unremarkable student from the Martial side who seemed primarily interested in not embarrassing himself. Their exchange was clean—three controlled passes with low-risk Echoes, no injuries, no wasted motion. Around them, other pairs produced more uneven results. One student overextended and had to be stopped. Another lost control of a beast-type Projection and required instructor intervention.

Zurbluris’s pair ended in a sharp, dominant display that drew several approving looks from his usual circle. He dismissed his Projection with deliberate flair and returned to the waiting line.

Lazarus ignored it.

The third stage was conducted in smaller side rooms. Each student entered alone, faced a single instructor, and answered questions about the historical background and practical limits of the Projections they had used. Lazarus’s examiner was the secondary combat teacher. The questions were straightforward. He answered them without embellishment and left when dismissed.

By the time the full class reconvened, the artificial light had shifted into early afternoon. The lead instructor read a short summary: most students had performed within expected ranges. A handful of names were listed for above-average control. Lazarus heard his own among them, spoken without special emphasis. Madeline’s name followed shortly after. Zurbluris was noted as well.

No public rankings. No dramatic declarations. Just recorded data.

The class was dismissed.

Students spilled into the corridor in loose groups, already dissecting their performances. Lazarus waited until the main flow had thinned, then started toward the eastern paths. He had not gone far when Madeline caught up, slightly flushed from the earlier drills.

"You placed high," she said.

"So did you."

"I held everything together. Barely." She glanced sideways at him. "Zurbluris was watching you during the paired stage. Not the friendly kind of watching."

"I noticed."

"Any more messages from his people?"

"Not yet."

Madeline exhaled. "I still think we should—"

"No." Lazarus kept his voice even. "The evaluation is on record now. Open interference becomes harder for him to explain. Let the documentation work."

She did not look fully satisfied, but she dropped the subject. They walked together as far as the central courtyard before splitting toward their next obligations.

Lazarus did not go immediately to his remaining class.

Instead he turned toward the library.

The restricted section was not open to first-years without written authorization. He knew that. He also knew that evaluation days created administrative clutter—instructors occupied with scoring, clerks moving files, more traffic through the central desks than usual. Clutter created small windows.

He entered the main reading hall, selected a common reference text on Echo-rank Resonant Presences, and took a seat within clear view of the restricted section entrance. From there he could watch the flow of access without drawing notice. Two upper-year students entered over the next half hour, both with proper tokens. A faculty member followed later. No one else.

The note’s claim remained untested.

Lazarus stayed until the light began to soften toward evening, then returned the text and left. Forcing access today would create its own record. Patience remained the cleaner option.

He was halfway across the outer courtyard when he felt the attention land.

Not Zurbluris’s usual followers. Someone else.

Lazarus adjusted his path slightly, angling toward a narrower walkway between two storage buildings. The presence followed. When he reached the midpoint of the passage—out of easy sight from the main paths—he stopped and turned.

A figure stepped into view at the far end.

Not a student.

An adult. Dark coat. No visible instructor’s insignia. The face was unfamiliar, middle-aged, forgettable in the way some people trained themselves to be forgettable. He stopped a careful distance away and spoke in a low, level voice.

"You declined the midnight meeting."

Lazarus said nothing.

The man continued, "Wise. Open invitations are rarely clean. But the offer stands in a different form. The restricted section does contain records that should not exist—references to Pre-Apocalypse methods, fragmented accounts of certain Principalities, and at least one file that mentions a name you may recognize."

He paused.

"Abraham."

Lazarus kept his expression unchanged, but something cold settled behind his ribs.

The man watched him closely.

"I can arrange limited access. No tokens. No formal request. In exchange, I want your assessment of one document. Nothing more. If you are as observant as your recent activity suggests, you will understand why."

He placed a small, unmarked key on the low wall beside him.

"Third alcove. Lower shelf. The key opens a secondary cabinet that the main inventory does not list. Use it before the next evaluation cycle ends. After that, the window closes."

The man turned and walked away without waiting for an answer, disappearing toward the far end of the passage with the same unremarkable gait.

Lazarus stood alone in the narrow walkway, the key glinting dully on the stone.

The name Abraham sat in the air like a held breath.

Someone inside the Academy was moving pieces toward him.

And they already knew which names would make him listen.