System, please just shut up

The pristine white doors parted with a soft hiss.

Kael and Theo stepped through and into the heart of Silver Mane's command hall—the Circle Chamber.

The air inside shifted, heavier, more focused, a palpable weight of intent.

Rows of arched seats stretched around the room in a rising circular formation, built like a reverse coliseum.

Stone-tiered and silver-edged, each level ascended slightly above the last, wrapping around a central speaking platform made of polished obsidian.

The lighting was subdued but precise—thin beams of mana-threaded light illuminated each row without casting a single shadow.

Every footstep echoed with chilling clarity, and the faint, constant hum of enchantments whispered through the very stone beneath their feet.

Students filled the tiers, most wearing the crisp silver-and-blue uniform of Silver Mane. Some were older, their faces etched with experience, some closer to Kael's age, but all carried a certain sharpness in their posture—the ease of competence, the keen edge of ambition.

No one was shouting. No one was joking. This wasn't the lounge. This was the room where strategy was born.

A tall, probably fourth-year student was currently speaking in the center circle, his voice steady and authoritative as he gestured at a floating, projected map, a vibrant, three-dimensional display marked with glowing markers and pulsing threat zones.

Theo motioned to a pair of empty seats a few tiers up on the right. Kael followed without a word, climbing the steps quietly, doing his best not to interrupt the ongoing meeting.

He kept his gaze low as they ascended a few levels and slid silently into one of the unoccupied rows, merging seamlessly into the disciplined crowd.

Kael leaned slightly forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his gaze already locked on the intricate, glowing map below. He wasn't sure what the meeting was about, but something told him… this wasn't just a routine update.

At the highest tier sat five grand seats, carved from pale stone and veined with shimmering silver, slightly raised from all the others.

The seats of the Pillars.

The walls hummed faintly with mana. The air smelled of parchment, ozone, and fresh polish. Students in various uniforms sat in tight, attentive formations, watching the five seated figures at the top.

Kael settled into his chair, his thoughts already drifting—he'd been here before. He knew the structure of Silver Mane like the back of his hand.

It was drilled into every new recruit the second they were accepted.

One Alpha. Five Pillars. The rest of us fall in line.

The Alpha was the official leader of the faction, always a fourth-year, usually someone on the verge of graduating straight into a kingdom's elite command. You didn't see them much. Sometimes not at all.

They were a shadow, a title—a power too busy to attend meetings.

The real power rested with the Pillars.

Each one controlled a key division. Each had their own elite squad. Each answered only to the Alpha—and they didn't tolerate slackers.

Kael's eyes drifted to the raised platform as he mentally named them off.

Aria Veyl – Commander of Operations.

She sat upright in her seat, her sharp uniform crisp as always, but her expression was… relaxed.

Even smiling a little, a bright, almost disarming look, as if this was a casual get-together and not a tactical council of elite students.

Her long coat, always fastened at the neck and left open below, gave her the look of someone who could either give a rousing pep talk or win a duel—depending on her mood.

She was speaking to someone across the room, casually waving a glowing stylus in her hand and nodding at whatever was being said, her voice bright and clear.

Friendly. Relaxed. Almost too normal for someone with her title.

Kael at first never really got the nickname "Ghost General."

He thought maybe it was ironic. Or maybe people just hadn't seen her when she was actually mad.

Because when you crossed a line, when you failed to report, or put your squad in danger? That warmth vanished like a flipped switch.

She didn't scream. She didn't even frown. She'd just go quiet—and then correct you so efficiently, so surgically, you'd think twice before breathing wrong in her presence again.

Kael had only seen it once. Once was enough. Still… she was one of the only two Pillar who smiled when he first got assigned.

The only one who asked for his name twice to make sure she remembered it. It made serving under her bearable.

Maybe even exciting. But relaxing? Not a chance.

Next was Risa Thornvale – The Enforcer.

Slouched with one boot propped casually on the railing, her coat hanging halfway off her shoulder. Her eyes were half-lidded, a picture of extreme disinterest, like she was bored to death.

Kael had actually thought maybe they were similar in some way when he first got here.

He couldn't have been any more wrong.

She ran discipline.

And to cut it short she had no mercy... for no one.

His eyes moved to the next: Eliam Dren – Intelligence.

His face was obscured by his hood, pulled low, only the subtle gleam of his eyes visible beneath. A flickering mana-scroll floated silently beside his face, his lips barely moving as he whispered commands to it.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes… sharp. Calculating.

Everyone knew Eliam dealt in more than just information. He had secrets. Connections. Dirt.

Kael didn't want to get involved with him—at all.

If Risa was a blade, Eliam was poison. Invisible until it was too late.

Then there was Liora Maenys – Logistics.

Poised. Clean. Her fingers never stopped moving—tapping on a floating crystal board, recording resource flow, assignments, mission requisitions. She controlled all supplies, permissions, and equipment.

She wasn't too difficult to deal with, you just had to follow a simple rule: You didn't argue with Liora. You submitted a polite request, then waited… quietly.

And lastly, Miren Sael – Cadet Liaison.

A kind smile. Perfect posture.

She was the only one who ever smiled at new recruits—and somehow still managed to terrify half of them during basic sparring evaluations.

Kael never understood how someone could be so nice and so ruthless at the same time.

She ran training sessions. Evaluations. Field partnerships.

You definitely wanted to be on her good side. The bad side often included broken pride… and bruised ribs.

Kael leaned back in his seat, eyes flicking between the five leaders. Each one deadly. Each one sharp.

'And I'm sitting under the one who treats missions like a tactical war campaign. Of course.' He sighed.

Next to him, Theo sat with his usual effortless calm, watching the meeting unfold with mild, almost detached interest.

Kael shook his head and focused. 'Don't draw attention. Don't speak. And above all—don't get called out.'