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William intercepts the next attack, a fire spell from Professor Moreau that he absorbs into his magical shields before redirecting it toward an empty section of the courtyard. In all the chaos, no one can see that they are defending me.

“Stand down!” Professor Vane shouts to the gathering staff, though she has a binding spell crackling between her palms. “Wait for the Headmaster!”

That’s exactly what we want, of course. But I can’t appear to be waiting. I swing my tail in a low arc, careful to avoid any actual students but close enough to send them scrambling back in terror. The stone bench it connects with crumbles to dust, with chunks flying out at all angles.

Cassiel dives and weaves between spells as more professors join the fight, his power deflecting attacks while never directly engaging the staff. It’s a delicate balance to create chaos without causing genuine harm, to appear threatening without killing anyone.

Students are engaging in aggression as expected, causing even more confusion and havoc. Spells fly, most intercepted by William or Cassiel, the few that reach me bouncing harmlessly off my crystal scales.

Where the fuck is Blackridge?

He should have appeared by now, drawn by the unprecedented chaos in his domain. I scan the growing crowd, searching for his distinctive figure, but see no sign of him.

Something else catches my attention instead. Among the terrified faces, certain students stand apart—calmer, more calculating, observing rather than fleeing. Their shadows move just slightly out of sync with their bodies, darkness rippling beneath human form disguises.

The Collectors. Just as Isolde said, they’re already here, infiltrated into the student body, and the chaos we’ve created has given them the perfect opportunity to move.

One such figure separates from the crowd, slipping toward the main building where Isolde has gone. Then another, heading toward the eastern boundary. A third approaches the library, movements casual but purpose unmistakable.

They’re making their move.

I need to warn William and Cassiel, but in this form, I have no voice for human speech. A draconic roar of fire is my only option, directed toward the infiltrators rather than the sky. William’s head snaps up, following my gaze to the Collector agents now moving into position.

Understanding dawns in his eyes. With a sharp gesture to Cassiel, he abandons his position near my flank and launches himself toward the nearest infiltrator, darkness gathering around his hands.

Cassiel banks sharply, wings folding as he dives toward another of the shadow figures. Cassiel strikes, a blade of black light materialising in his hand and plunging into the creature’s chest.

The courtyard erupts into new chaos as the professors realise they’re facing multiple threats. Defensive and offensive spells zing in all directions, causing the students to respond more violently to stay alive.

I spot more infiltrators moving through the confusion. They’re everywhere as they advance on the main building, the library, and the eastern boundary where SilverGate’s wards are weakest.

I fly forward, intending to intercept a group of infiltrators heading for the main building and Isolde’s location. Before I can reach them, a surge of power washes across the courtyard, a pressure wave of ancient magic that momentarily freezes everyone in place.

Blackridge has finally fucking arrived.

He stands at the entrance to the main building, a small, unassuming figure compared to me now, that dominates the chaos around him. His black eyes survey the scene with clinical detachment, taking in the dragon, the battling Collectors, the fighting students and professors.

And he smiles.

Not the tight, controlled expression he usually offers, but a genuine smile of satisfaction. As if everything he sees is unfolding exactly as planned. His gaze meets mine, black eyes locking with my draconic ones.

“Mr Aquila. What was the final straw, I wonder?”

The bolt of pure rage that lashes through me is enough to nearly wipe out half the student body.

But the thing is, I can’t attack him. If he chooses to defend himself, which I have no doubt he will, that will leave me…

who knows? Probably not dead but incapacitated, and we aren’t done with this shitshow yet.

Isolde needs more time, especially with Blackridge now here.

He steps forward, his power visible like a heat wave around him. But he doesn’t stop the fight.

William and Cassiel are separated from me by the flood of the fight, forced to deal with Collectors in their respective areas.

Cassiel takes to the air again, his wings carrying him towards a group attempting to reach the eastern boundary.

William vanishes into the crowd, reappearing moments later near the library, where three infiltrators are engaged in some kind of ritual.

I remain in the courtyard, facing Blackridge across the emptying space, wings flapping as I hover feet off the ground. He has to know what we’re doing. He can’t not at this point. He approaches without fear, seemingly unconcerned by my massive form or the sheer power that is bouncing off me.

“A deliberate attempt to distract, which means Miss Morvoren is probably doing something she isn’t equipped to deal with.”

A low growl builds in my chest, steam billowing from my nostrils as my temperature rises with my anger. Blackridge’s smile widens fractionally.

“Where is she?” he asks suddenly, though his tone suggests he already knows the answer.

My roar of fury shakes the courtyard, stone cracking beneath my claws as I land, towering over him.

I duck my head and exhale a stream of smoke pluming out of my nose into his face.

Blackridge doesn’t flinch, doesn’t retreat, simply raises one hand.

The power that hits me is ancient, cold and utterly implacable.

It doesn’t stop my advance, but it slows me down.

“I admire the strategy,” Blackridge says, still casual despite the enormous effort he must be exerting to hold me back.

“Use the dragon as a distraction while the Sanguinarch attempts to usurp control of my academy. Unfortunately, it’s a plan I’ve seen executed before, with similarly disappointing results.

She won’t succeed. The control chamber responds only to me. ”

To you and to her now that you’ve bound yourselves so fucking tightly.

He smiles as he realises my thoughts. Or maybe he can hear them. I roar loudly again and lumber forward, fire bursting from my mouth.

Blackridge vanishes an instant before it would have reached him, reappearing several metres away, his expression unchanged despite the near miss.

“I knew you would be inspiring, Mr Aquila.” He glances toward the main building, then back to me. “I should attend to Miss Morvoren before she damages something irreplaceable. The Collectors will keep you and your companions occupied, I think.”

As if he knew something we didn’t, a new wave of infiltrators pours into the courtyard, breaking through the wards and surrounding me before I can take flight again.

Blackridge turns toward the main building, apparently unconcerned. “Do try to survive, Mr Aquila. You still have a role to play in what’s to come.”

I rise from the ground, leaving The Collectors and the fight behind.

I need to reach Isolde. Now. Before it’s too late.

With a roar that shatters windows across the courtyard, my wings spread to catch the crimson-tinged air. Several Collectors get caught in the crossfire, burning from the inside out, their screams echoing around the academy like death knells of warning.

Do not come near me.

From this height, I can see the full extent of the chaos below. SilverGate has become a battlefield, professors and students fighting alongside William and Cassiel against a Collector force that seems to grow by the minute. The wards have failed under sustained assault.

A searing pain tears through my left wing, a Collector’s spell finding its mark where my scales are thinnest. I falter, nearly falling before regaining balance.

The wound burns with unnatural cold, ice spreads along the membrane.

Another spell hits my flank, then my tail.

The Collectors are targeting me from below, coordinating their attacks, seemingly unsurprised to find a dragon in their midst.

The instinct to rain destruction down on my attackers overwhelms me, and I let loose, trying not to hit William and Cassiel. Isolde would never forgive me. Everyone else is fair game in this.

I need to reach her. Now. Before Blackridge. Before The Collectors overwhelm us completely. Before it’s too late for all of us.