The academy lab was silent.
Kaito stepped inside, Dex at his heels, eyes locked on the Arcanon fragment sealed in its containment field. The others followed cautiously.
"I want it," Kaito said, voice steady. "Unfiltered. No barriers, no safety protocols."
The principal's brow furrowed. "Kaito… that fragment—"
"I know what I'm doing," Kaito interrupted. "Let me handle it."
Aria's hands tightened around her communicator. "Are you sure?"
Kaito didn't answer. He crouched beside the fragment and activated the reverse reader. A faint lattice of inverted energy formed around the object, illuminating the room in eerie blue lines.
"This device," he explained quietly, "doesn't read what the fragment gives off. It reads what it refuses to touch—the gaps in its energy. The parts it's hiding."
Mira leaned in. "You're saying it's deliberately shielding something?"
"Not shielding," Kaito said. "Redirecting. Lying without lying."
With a calm, practiced motion, Kaito slid the containment field into a sealed dissolution chamber. The chamber hissed, filling with a psion-reactive solvent designed to strip stabilizers and false signatures without damaging the core structure.
The fragment didn't melt.
It peeled. Layers of false readings collapsed like paper dissolving in water. Signals that mimicked Kaito's power faltered and vanished. Energy traces that suggested fire or psionics dissipated, leaving only… nothing.
The reverse reader screamed in high-pitched tones, data scrolling faster than anyone could comprehend. Kaito ignored it.
"This is it," he murmured. "This is the truth."
Aria's voice barely broke the hum. "So… the fires. The shootings…"
"They weren't caused by anyone at the academy," Kaito said. His gaze never left the fragment. "They were nudged. Shaped to create blame. To make doubt tangible."
Dex growled low, staring at the fragment as if he could sense the manipulation itself.
Kaito reached out and held the remaining piece between his fingers. It was smaller now, simpler. Almost… innocent-looking. But he knew better. Every curve, every imperfection, every layer that had fallen away had been intentionally designed to survive scrutiny—and to survive him.
"The fragment doesn't create energy," he continued quietly. "It redirects perception. It forces people to see the wrong cause. It forces fear, uncertainty, and—most importantly—doubt."
Ryo swallowed. "And if Veyl Arcanon designed it to survive you…"
Kaito's jaw tightened. "Then he knows exactly how to get under my skin. And he's counting on me reacting before anyone else sees the truth."
Aria glanced at him, concern etched across her face. "So what do we do now?"
Kaito's eyes never left the fragment. "We document. We analyze. And we prepare. Because whatever he wanted with this… it's not over."
The lab hummed, lights flickering slightly as the reverse reader finished its final scan. Kaito turned slowly, holding the fragment up. In his hand, it felt weightless, harmless—but he could feel the intention behind it.
Veyl had left them a test.
And Kaito knew he wasn't going to fail it.