SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

”Tell me more, boy. I want to know who my competition is.”

The young inventor stiffened at once.

Caelum watched the reaction from behind Orven von Halbrecht’s face. The boy wanted to answer. That much was obvious. His problem was not reluctance, but the far more inconvenient disease of limited information. He had heard things. Gathered pieces. Stored rumors the way eager young craftsmen stored praise, hoping one day they would become useful.

Now Master von Halbrecht was asking him to turn gossip into a report.

A cruel situation, really.

”I don’t know how to answer that properly, Master von Halbrecht,” the boy said, clutching the edge of his worktable with ink-stained fingers. ”Only a few people know the full details, and I’m not influential enough to hear anything official. Although, now that I think about it, someone like you could probably ask and receive an answer.”

Caelum turned the ring once with his thumb, letting Halbrecht’s impatience settle over the room.

”I will ask when I have time,” he said. ”For now, tell me what you know. Rumors do not appear from nothing, and if this person is interesting enough to make the lower rooms whisper, I would like to know why.”

The boy nodded quickly, grateful to have permission to speak without needing to be exact. ”Yes, of course. I would like to meet him as well, honestly. Everyone says he must be incredibly knowledgeable. The people who mention him don’t speak as if he is simply talented. They speak as if he knows things most people here wouldn’t even understand how to ask about.”

”That is usually how people describe either a genius or a fraud,” Caelum replied. ”The event will decide which one he is.”

The young inventor gave an awkward little laugh. ”I suppose that’s true. But the way people talk about it… I don’t think it’s fraud. They call the entry different names because no one knows what the official title is. Some workers call it the private winner. Others call it the hidden entry.”

”The private winner,” Caelum repeated, tasting the phrase with Halbrecht’s disdain. ”How charming. Aurevane has discovered a way to crown someone before pretending to judge the contest.”

The assistant by the door swallowed, but did not interrupt.

The boy hurried on. ”I don’t think it’s official, sir. It’s just what people say. There is a room that only Aurevane staff can approach. No invited participants, no external assistants, no sponsors without clearance. Even the workers assigned to nearby rooms don’t know what’s inside. They say only Aurevane’s verified people can enter.”

”And what do they claim is being made there?”

”Alchemy,” the boy said, lowering his voice despite the room being theirs. ”But not ordinary alchemy. That’s what one of the workers said. He said it was for the most skilled minds only. I don’t know what that means, but people keep repeating it.”

Caelum let Halbrecht’s mouth flatten.

”For the most skilled minds only,” he murmured. ”A phrase invented by men who wish to feel taller while standing behind a locked door.”

The boy’s shoulders drew in slightly. ”I didn’t mean to make it sound impressive in a childish way, Master von Halbrecht. It’s just… everyone here wants to see it. If a project is being hidden that much, it must be important.”

”Or embarrassing.”

”That too, sir.”

Caelum allowed the correction to pass. Better to let the boy breathe. Nervous people talked more when they believed they had survived a mistake.

”Would someone like me be able to enter that room?” Caelum asked, keeping his tone dry enough that the question sounded like professional insult rather than curiosity. ”Or someone like the legendary alchemist Selara?”

The boy’s face brightened at the name despite his nerves. ”You know Director Selara?”

”Everyone with a functioning education knows of Director Selara.”

”Right, of course. I’m sure someone like her could enter almost anywhere in Aurevane if she truly wanted to. She has won so many events, and everyone knows her work. I mean, if a mind like hers is not allowed into a place meant for brilliant alchemy, then who would be?”

Caelum filed that away.

The boy admired Selara. Many did. That did not mean Aurevane would open doors for her. Admiration in public and clearance in private were very different currencies.

”If I am expected to lose to a sealed room,” Caelum said, ”I would at least like to know whether the work inside is worth the insult.”

The boy hesitated again.

This time, the hesitation came from fear of sounding absurd.

”They say it is alive.”

His fingers tightened around the folder, and his attention darted toward the corridor before he dragged it back. Interesting. The assistant had heard that rumor too.

”Alive?” Caelum asked. ”Is it some sort of monster?”

”I don’t know,” the boy admitted at once. ”I truly don’t. I only heard that it reacts like a living thing, or that it is cultivated rather than assembled. I don’t know how accurate that is. As I said, I’ve never seen it, and I would rather not lie to you, Master von Halbrecht.”

The answer was clumsy. Living. Cultivated. Hidden. Alchemy, but not ordinary alchemy. Aurevane-only clearance. Caelum had enough info to know the thing was bad.

”Forgive my rudeness,” Caelum said, softening Halbrecht’s voice by the smallest degree. ”I became more interested than I intended. If I happen to gain access and see anything worth mentioning, I may tell you a little. In exchange, you will keep your mouth disciplined, if you know what I mean.” The boy’s face lit with the pathetic radiance of a young craftsman being offered even a crumb from a senior professional’s table. He nodded so hard Caelum briefly wondered if his neck had been assembled by committee.

”Of course, Master von Halbrecht. I won’t say anything. I swear.”

”Good. Your prototype may yet survive your enthusiasm.”

The boy took that as praise because he was young, hopeful, and therefore vulnerable to poor interpretation.

Caelum turned away from the table, and the assistant nearly snapped back into motion.

”We should continue the route, Master von Halbrecht,” the assistant said, voice careful. ”There are still two rooms left on your inspection path, and afterward I can escort you back toward the upper access.”

”Then stop announcing the schedule and move,” Caelum replied. ”The schedule will not become shorter because you recite it with anxiety.”

”Yes, sir.”

They left the young inventor behind. As they moved down the lower corridor, Caelum’s mind remained on the conversation.

’Blind lovers of their hobbies are remarkably easy to guide.’

The boy had not been foolish, only hungry to belong among people he admired. Give such people a little respect, promise them a glimpse behind the curtain, and they would hand over half the rumors they knew while thanking you for listening. Caelum completed the rest of the inspection without haste. One room held a heating array for controlled reagent evaporation. Another contained a mana-thread calibration device that hummed with more promise than its maker’s explanation deserved. Caelum corrected two small faults as Halbrecht would have corrected them: with technical precision and enough contempt to make everyone remember the lesson. The sealed room did. He did not approach it directly. That would have been crude. Instead, he let the route carry him past the inner passage where two guards stood before a plain door with no public label. The door had been built to look uninteresting, which immediately made it more interesting than every shining prototype in the corridor.

The guards did not move. The assistant’s steps quickened as they passed.

Caelum let Halbrecht’s attention skim the door with professional annoyance, nothing more. The ward pattern around it fed from a separate line, but the outer shell touched the same lower network he was supposedly reviewing.

So the room was connected. Excellent.

At the end of the inspection, the assistant escorted him back toward the western staff route. He bowed several times, thanked him more than necessary, and promised that all notes would be delivered to the review office before evening.

Caelum dismissed him with a single irritated motion of Halbrecht’s hand.

Once outside the Atrium’s lower access, he walked two streets before allowing himself to separate from the flow of event workers and into a quieter lane.

The city continued around him, bright, noisy, and satisfied with its own lies.

Caelum stopped beneath the shade of a narrow awning.

A small manifestation of mana gathered in his palm.

The Shadowlink Echo appeared.