Chapter 221: The Last Examination

By two in the morning, fifty-three children had died inside Saint Aurelia Preparatory Academy.

The Imperial Guard had secured the entire school. Most of the cult members were in custody, their leader had been captured, and the soldiers had searched every classroom and underground passage for missing hostages.

Additional healers had arrived from across the Imperial Capital, but the situation continued deteriorating.

The final examination had already been activated, and the restrictions imposed on the children were destroying their bodies faster than the physicians could treat them.

Captain Reinhardt had spent the past several hours supervising the largest examination hall. His soldiers were exhausted, and several had surrendered their cloaks to children complaining of the cold. Others assisted the healers or remained beside students who were too frightened to be left alone.

The captain had ordered every available man to remain useful. Those without medical training could carry supplies, comfort the younger children, or assist with the search for missing students.

Unfortunately, the number of children requiring treatment continued growing.

An exhausted physician approached him after another unsuccessful attempt to save a young girl.

"Captain, the treatments aren’t lasting anymore."

"How many are still responding?"

"Less than half. We’re continuing, but I need you to understand what that means."

Reinhardt had understood for some time.

Nevertheless, he ordered his soldiers to remain at their posts. As long as a child was breathing, the Imperial Guard would continue trying to save them.

The physician returned to work without another word.

Nearby, a little boy had been asking one of the soldiers whether his mother was waiting outside.

"She’s there, isn’t she?"

"Your family’s waiting for you," the soldier answered.

"Then why can’t I go home?"

The soldier couldn’t explain the restrictions surrounding the hall in a way that would comfort a frightened child. Instead, he told the boy that the doctors needed to finish treating him before he could leave.

The boy accepted the explanation and asked whether he could have some water.

The soldier helped him drink.

A few minutes later, the boy fell asleep.

He never woke up.

Reinhardt eventually ordered the deceased children moved to an adjoining room, where they could be treated with dignity while the physicians concentrated on those still alive.

He had seen soldiers die on the battlefield, but there was something fundamentally different about carrying the body of a child who had spent his final minutes asking to go home.

The people responsible had called this an examination.

Reinhardt wondered whether any of them had ever bothered learning the children’s names.

Meanwhile, at the northern medical station, Professor Antoine Chastellain was waiting for news of his daughter.

Lucile remained unconscious under the care of several healers. Her condition had worsened throughout the evening, although the physicians had managed to keep her alive through repeated treatment.

Ilya sat nearby.

The professor had barely spoken since arriving at Saint Aurelia. He had spent most of the past week helping the Imperial authorities investigate the occupation, and his research had contributed to the successful assault.

Now that the soldiers had reached the children, there was nothing useful left for him to do.

Antoine eventually broke the silence.

"Belozersky, did I ever tell you about Lucile’s first invention?"

Ilya remembered the professor mentioning several of his daughter’s projects, although he couldn’t recall that particular story.

"Was it the communication device?"

"No. That came much later. She was seven when she built her first invention."

Apparently, Lucile had decided that her father spent too much time working and not enough time sleeping. After observing Antoine repeatedly ignoring his alarm clock, she constructed a device intended to wake him by pulling the blankets off his bed.

Unfortunately, she misunderstood how much force the mechanism required.

The invention pulled the entire mattress onto the floor.

"She was delighted," Antoine recalled. "Said it proved the machine worked. I told her that nearly breaking her father’s neck wasn’t the intended result."

"Technically, she did get you out of bed."

"That’s exactly what she said."

Antoine laughed quietly.

For a short while, he continued sharing stories about his daughter. Lucile had apparently been an unusually determined child, especially when she believed she had discovered a better way of doing something.

She had once argued with one of her teachers over the design of an ancient magical instrument, then spent the following weekend attempting to prove her theory with materials borrowed from Antoine’s workshop.

Her experiment failed.

She spent three days refusing to discuss it.

Then she tried again.

"She takes after you, Professor," Ilya remarked.

"Unfortunately. Her mother used to say that raising one Chastellain was difficult enough."

Antoine’s smile faded as he remembered something.

"She would have liked seeing Lucile grow up."

Ilya knew little about the professor’s family beyond what Antoine had occasionally shared. He therefore allowed him to continue without asking questions.

The professor eventually returned to speaking about the communication device they had planned to build together.

Lucile had insisted that it should recognize different callers and play a melody whenever someone contacted her.

Antoine had considered the feature unnecessary.

His daughter disagreed.

Apparently, she believed inventions should be enjoyable to use, even when the additional features served no practical purpose.

"I promised I’d buy the remaining parts this weekend," Antoine said.

"You still can, Professor."

"Yes. I suppose I should."

The professor reached into his coat and retrieved the folded drawing Lucile had prepared.

Several components had been circled in red, accompanied by reminders written in her handwriting.

At the bottom was a small message.

’Papa, don’t forget again!’

Antoine carefully folded the paper and returned it to his pocket.

Before either could speak again, an Imperial physician approached.

"Professor Chastellain, your daughter’s condition has improved enough that she may regain consciousness briefly. We thought you would want to know."

Antoine immediately stood.

"Can I see her?"

"The examination hall remains unsafe. However, we can arrange a communication connection if she wakes."

The professor agreed.

Several minutes later, the device on the table activated.

A faint voice came through.

"Papa?"

Antoine answered immediately.

"Lucile. I’m here, sweetheart."

"Where are you?"

"I’m at your school. The soldiers have already arrived, and the doctors are taking care of you."

Lucile seemed relieved to hear him.

For a few seconds, she said nothing. Then she asked whether she had done something wrong.

Antoine couldn’t understand the question at first.

"Of course not. Why would you think that?"

"The teachers said we had to pass the examination. I tried answering everything, but I couldn’t finish."

"Lucile, listen to me. Those people aren’t your teachers. You haven’t done anything wrong, and you don’t have to take another examination."

"Really?"

"Really. Papa promises."

The girl accepted his answer.

Then, after a brief silence, she asked about their unfinished project.

Antoine almost laughed.

Even now, his daughter remembered the communication device.

"I haven’t forgotten," he assured her. "I brought your drawings with me."

"You didn’t buy the parts."

"I know. I’m a terrible assistant."

"You’re supposed to be a professor."

"Apparently, that doesn’t make me very good at following instructions."

Lucile laughed faintly.

For a moment, Antoine could almost imagine that she was speaking to him from her bedroom, complaining about another promise he had neglected to fulfill.

Then her breathing became uneven.

A physician intervened and requested that the conversation end so treatment could continue.

Antoine immediately agreed.

"Lucile, listen to the doctors. I’ll be waiting right here."

"Papa?"

"Yes?"

"Can we finish it when I get home?"

"Of course, sweetheart. We’ll finish it together."

"Okay."

The connection ended shortly afterward.

Antoine remained beside the device, evidently reluctant to move away from it.

Ilya had listened without interrupting.

He had expected the professor to ask another question or request an update from the physicians, but Antoine simply returned to his chair.

"She sounded better," the professor said.

"She did."

"She’s always been stubborn. Even when she was little, she’d refuse to give up on something once she’d made up her mind."

Ilya understood what Antoine was trying to tell himself.

He wanted to believe that Lucile’s determination would somehow help her survive.

Unfortunately, courage and stubbornness couldn’t cure what the cult had done to her.

The physicians continued treating Lucile, but the brief improvement disappeared within the hour.

When the next report arrived, Antoine listened carefully before asking whether another treatment could be attempted.

The attending healer explained that they had already exhausted the available options.

Nevertheless, she promised to remain with Lucile and continue providing whatever care was possible.

Antoine thanked her.

The professor then requested permission to enter the examination hall.

The Imperial commander refused because the restrictions remained dangerous, but he arranged for Antoine to be escorted closer to the northern entrance.

Ilya accompanied him.

They passed several soldiers carrying supplies toward the medical stations. Other personnel were transporting the bodies of children who had already died, their faces covered with white cloth.

Antoine recognized the uniform of Saint Aurelia.

He had purchased one just like it for Lucile before the school year began.

The professor continued walking.

At the entrance to the northern hall, an Imperial physician met them.

Her expression told Ilya enough before she spoke.

"Professor Chastellain, I’m sorry. Your daughter’s condition has become critical."

Antoine asked whether he could see her.

The physician explained that they were still attempting treatment, but agreed to let him wait nearby.

For several minutes, the professor stood outside the examination hall while the healers worked.

Then the physician returned.

She explained that Lucile had stopped breathing and that the medical team was attempting to revive her.

Antoine asked them to continue.

They did.

Unfortunately, every attempt failed.

A short while later, the physician returned once more.

"Professor Chastellain, I’m very sorry."

Antoine understood.

Nevertheless, he asked her to say it.

The physician explained that Lucile had died despite every available effort to save her.

For several seconds, the professor remained silent.

Then he asked whether they had tried the treatment that helped her earlier.

The physician confirmed that they had.

"What about the specialists from the Imperial Medical Institute?"

"They assisted us, Professor."

"Could another healer examine her? Someone who hasn’t been treating the other children?"

The physician answered gently.

"Professor, we have already confirmed her death."

Antoine listened.

He had spent his entire career studying problems that could be solved through sufficient knowledge and effort. Whenever an experiment failed, he examined the results, corrected his mistakes, and tried again.

Now he was being told that there was nothing left to try.

Eventually, he thanked the physician.

His voice was almost inaudible.

Ilya remained beside him, uncertain whether the professor wanted him there.

He considered offering condolences, but the words seemed terribly inadequate.

What could he possibly say?

That Lucile was in a better place? That everything would eventually improve? That Antoine had done everything he could?

The professor had just lost his daughter.

None of those statements would bring her back.

Instead, Ilya asked whether Antoine wanted him to stay.

The professor answered after a long silence.

"Please."

Ilya remained.

The Imperial physician eventually arranged for Antoine to see his daughter once the examination hall had been secured.

By then, the final examination had claimed nearly every remaining child.

The last medical teams continued working until dawn, but none of their remaining patients survived.

Every child held hostage by the Cult of the Second Dawn was dead.

The Imperial Guard had captured the perpetrators, secured the school, and prevented the experiment from spreading beyond its walls.

For the families waiting outside, those achievements offered little comfort.

At the northern examination hall, Antoine was finally permitted to enter.

Lucile lay beneath a white blanket, her small hands resting at her sides.

The professor approached and carefully uncovered her face.

For a long time, he remained beside her without speaking.

Then he took the folded drawing from his coat and placed it next to her.

"I’m sorry, sweetheart."

His voice broke.

"Papa forgot again."

Ilya remained near the entrance while the professor wept beside his daughter.

Outside, the sun had begun rising over the Imperial Capital.

Saint Aurelia’s final examination was over.