The courtyard of the Central Academy had become unrecognizable.
The pavement was cracked, several walls had collapsed, and a thick layer of dust still floated through the air.
The smell of blood, scorched stone, and residual Spirit made the atmosphere almost impossible to breathe in.
Emergency vehicles passed through the destroyed gates while rescue teams quickly entered the grounds.
The survivors were gathered in the least dangerous areas.
The wounded were placed on improvised stretchers and carried toward the medical stations.
Farther away, the former students who had been transformed into Spiritual Suppurations were being restrained by specialized teams.
Some were still struggling, unable to recognize their own classmates.
Amid the chaos, Tariq was still lying on the ground.
His breathing was short and irregular, while his muscles trembled after using almost all of his Spirit.
His shadow, usually stable, appeared and disappeared in small waves around his body.
It seemed unable to return to its normal form after the battle against Morgen.
Leila quickly arrived at his side.
She dropped to her knees, placed both hands on his chest, and concentrated her Spirit.
A soft green light spread beneath her palms.
The warmth of her power gradually traveled through Tariq’s muscles and slowed the tremors that were still shaking his body.
Healing Spirit could not instantly repair every injury.
Its main purpose was to keep the body functioning.
It reduced internal bleeding, stabilized the organs, and helped the nervous system return to a normal rhythm.
In such a critical state, a few minutes of stability could determine whether a fighter survived.
Tariq’s breathing gradually became more regular.
His shoulders relaxed, and his fingers stopped trembling.
After several seconds, he finally opened his eyes.
His first reaction was not to look at Leila, but at the bodies lying around him.
Some students were unconscious.
Others were being restrained on the ground by specialized teams to prevent them from hurting anyone.
Their bodies had completely changed, yet Tariq could still recognize some of their faces.
He remained silent for several seconds before asking the question he had been dreading.
“…
Are they dead?” Leila remained silent for a moment.
She continued maintaining her power over his chest before answering in a faint voice.
“No.
But they aren’t human anymore.” Tariq looked away.
He found nothing to say.
His fingers slowly closed around the rubble beside him.
For the first time since the beginning of the attack, his anger gave way to a deep sadness.
A few meters away, Issa was sitting against a broken stone block.
His torso was bandaged, and several cuts covered his arms.
He looked exhausted, but his mind was still functioning perfectly.
Instead of looking at the wounded, he was observing the movements of the rescue teams, their positions, and above all, Captain Thiago’s reactions.
Issa was already trying to understand what would happen next.
He knew the attack was over, but he refused to believe that Morgen had simply wanted to create a massacre.
Too many things had been prepared with precision.
The creature sent into the city, the artifact, Leila’s presence, and even the timing of his disappearance formed a combination that was far too coherent.
Farther away, Raad remained standing, his arms crossed over his chest.
His gaze was dark, and his expression clearly showed his frustration.
He had spent much of the battle trying to find an opening, but everything had ended before he could actually change the situation.
Beside him, Soura crouched near a section of ground that was still wet.
He gently placed two fingers against the blood- and water-stained pavement.
He remained motionless for several seconds, concentrating on the traces of Spirit present in the environment.
Then his gaze rose toward the destroyed buildings.
“The moisture is coming back,” he murmured.
Raad slightly turned his head.
“So what?” Soura slowly stood up.
“The guy with the sand Spirit has moved away.” Soura had noticed a detail that most of the others would never have seen.
Morgen’s power had dried out the entire area around him.
The ground, the walls, and even the air had lost their natural moisture.
Now that the effect was disappearing, it meant that Morgen was no longer feeding his power in this part of the Academy.
An elemental Spirit always leaves traces in its environment.
When those traces disappear rapidly, it generally means that its user has stopped using their power or moved away from their area of influence.
It was not absolute proof, but given the current situation, Soura had little reason to be wrong.
At the center of the courtyard, Captain Thiago slowly moved between the debris.
His coat was covered in dust, and several battle marks were visible on his face.
Yet his posture remained upright.
He was not looking to speak to the survivors yet.
He was observing.
Every detail of the scene was being recorded in his mind.
The traces left by the chains, the places where the sand had struck, the cracks in the pavement, and the areas where Spirit had been most concentrated.
He was also searching for traces of Morgen’s passage and the last places where Albert and Roen had used their energy.
An officer quickly approached him.
“Captain, the perimeter is secure.
The medical teams are in place.” Thiago continued looking at the ruins.
“Do you have any leads on the artifact Morgen was using?” The officer hesitated before answering.
“Negative, Captain.” Thiago remained silent.
For several seconds, neither man spoke.
Around them, the rescue teams continued running between the wounded.
Yet to Thiago, all that noise seemed to have faded into the distance.
The artifact was the most important element of the entire operation.
Morgen had managed to carry away an enormous amount of Spirit concentrated inside a single object.
Such a reserve could be used to power experiments, create weapons, or strengthen creatures capable of absorbing that energy.
Losing the artifact therefore meant far more than allowing an enemy to escape.
The Commission may have just lost a lead that could have helped them understand the origin of the mutations.
Worse still, Morgen now possessed enough of a reserve to prepare something far more dangerous.
Thiago briefly closed his eyes before turning around.
His gaze passed over the survivors still capable of standing.
Issa, Kaïs, Leila, Raad, and Soura were the main students still present.
None of them were unharmed.
Some had visible injuries, while others were simply too exhausted to continue fighting.
They had all understood one thing.
They had just survived an event they still did not fully understand.
Thiago finally spoke.
“This wasn’t an attack.” The students raised their eyes.
“It was a Spirit extraction.” Tariq clenched his teeth and placed one hand on the ground.
He tried to stand.
His legs were still trembling, and a deep pain ran through his chest.
Leila tried to stop him, but he forced himself up anyway until he managed to reach a standing position.
He remained there for several seconds, struggling to keep his balance.
His gaze fixed on the spot where Morgen had been standing only minutes earlier.
“Next time…” His voice was weak, but determined.
“I won’t lose.” Issa lowered his eyes slightly.
He knew Tariq was not only talking about becoming stronger.
This battle had left a deep mark on his mind.
He could still see the image of his classmates transformed into monsters and Morgen disappearing without him being able to stop him.
Raad looked away, still frustrated by his uselessness during the battle.
Kaïs, being supported from a distance by a medic, remained strangely silent.
For once, neither of them was trying to boast or hide their weaknesses.
Leila slowly removed her hands from Tariq’s chest.
The green light faded until it disappeared completely.
She had managed to stabilize his condition, but he was still far from recovered.
Tariq could stand, nothing more.
Soura, meanwhile, was no longer looking at the ruins.
His eyes were fixed on the horizon.
He knew Morgen had managed to escape, but he also knew that a man this prepared would not disappear without a reason.
The cube had been filled, the objective had been achieved, and the escape had been perfectly organized.
A defeat always leaves two kinds of wounds.
The first are visible: destroyed buildings, wounded bodies, and human losses.
The second are much harder to heal.
They change the way a fighter thinks, acts, and reacts when confronted by a new enemy.
For Tariq, this day had just become a breaking point.
For Issa, it had become a mystery he needed to solve.
For Thiago, it represented above all a failure of the Commission.
And for Morgen, it was nothing more than a successful step.
The wind passed through the ruined courtyard one last time.
The sirens gradually began to fade into the distance as the teams continued evacuating the wounded.
The survivors stared at the ruins of their Academy, without truly knowing how to return to a normal life after what they had just witnessed.