While the Inquisition's warrior began his divine hunt, a different, quieter battle was being waged. In the hallowed, terrified halls of Sunstone Academy.

The news of the Valerius estate's destruction and Edward's official branding as an "Enemy of the State" had ripped through the student body. It transformed the whispered, fearful rumors into a full-blown, hysterical panic. He was no longer just a campus legend. He was a national crisis. A boogeyman. A monster whose shadow now loomed over them all.

For Sarah, the news was a physical blow.

She sat in her small, neat dorm room. The academy's official news broadcast played on a holographic screen. Her hands were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white.

The announcer's voice was grave and somber. Detailing the "brutal, heretical assassination." The "demonic, reality-warping powers" of the fugitive, Edward Ross. They showed a stylized, menacing sketch of his face. His features twisted into a monstrous, inhuman snarl.

It was a lie. All of it. She knew it.

She had seen the real Edward. The boy who had saved her. The boy who had fought to protect the entire academy. The boy who had stopped himself from harming another student even when lost to a monstrous transformation.

The Edward on the screen was a fiction. A convenient, terrifying villain. Created by people afraid of what they could not control.

But her belief was a small, fragile candle in a hurricane of fear and propaganda.

The academy was now under a soft martial law. Inquisitorial agents in black robes were a common sight. They moved with a silent, unnerving purpose. Their presence a constant, chilling reminder that the hunt was on.

And they had started asking questions.

Sarah's best friend, Lena, had been the first to be taken for "questioning." She had been one of the few students who had shown Edward a sliver of kindness.

The Inquisitors had pulled her out of class. She had returned three hours later. Pale and trembling. Her eyes were wide with a fear she refused to speak about. She wouldn't look at Sarah. She wouldn't speak Edward's name.

They were systematically isolating anyone who had ever shown him a shred of decency. They were cutting him off. Erasing him not just from the present, but from the past. Turning his memory into a poison no one dared to touch.

Sarah knew they would come for her next. She wasn't just a casual acquaintance. She was the girl he had saved. She was the one he had a connection to. A connection the Inquisitors, with their soul-reading artifacts and merciless questions, would undoubtedly discover.

And when they discovered it, they would use her. They would use her as bait.

She was consumed with a frantic, desperate worry. Not for herself. For him. He was out there. Alone. Hunted by the most powerful organization in the kingdom.

He was a fugitive. Forced into the shadows of the underworld. He didn't know the Inquisition was not just hunting him. They were hunting his friends. He didn't know his connection to her, the very thing that had made him feel human, was now his greatest vulnerability.

She had to warn him.

But how? She was a student. A civilian. A nobody. She had no connections to the criminal underworld. No way of sending a message into the hidden places where he was likely hiding. To even ask would be to invite suspicion.

Then, she remembered. A ghost from her family's past. Years ago, her father had dealt with a man on the shadier side of commerce. An information broker.

A man who specialized in moving sensitive messages through unmonitored channels. For a very steep price. Her father had called him a "necessary evil." She had overheard the name once.

"The Alchemist."

It was a desperate, insane long shot. She didn't know if the man was still alive. If he was still in business. But it was the only option she had.

That night, she slipped out of her dorm room. Her heart was a frantic drum against her ribs. She disguised herself in a simple, hooded traveler's cloak. She made her way to the lower districts. The same streets where Edward had saved her life.

She found the Alchemist's shop in a grimy, forgotten alley. Its only sign was a faded, alchemical symbol painted on a warped wooden door. She knocked. Her knuckles trembled.

A slit in the door slid open. A pair of shrewd, paranoid eyes peered out. "We're closed."

"I need to send a message," Sarah said. Her voice was a nervous, trembling whisper. "My father… my father was Ryan Stark. He said you were a man who could deliver a letter to a ghost."

The eyes in the slit narrowed. A flicker of recognition. A long, tense silence. Then the sound of bolts being drawn. The door creaked open.

The man inside was old. Wizened. He smelled of dust and dangerous chemicals. He led her into a small, cluttered room.

"Your father was a good man. Paid his debts," the Alchemist grunted. His eyes assessed her. "A message to a ghost is not cheap. And for a ghost being hunted by the White Robes… the price is astronomical. It will cost you everything you have."

Sarah didn't hesitate. She placed a small, heavy pouch on his cluttered table. Her entire life's savings. Then, she took off a small, silver locket from around her neck. Her mother's last gift. She placed it on top of the pouch. "Everything," she repeated. Her voice was now steady. Her resolve had hardened her fear into steel.

The Alchemist's eyes widened slightly. He gave a slow, respectful nod. He pushed a piece of parchment and a quill towards her. "The message. Keep it short. Keep it coded. I can get it to the listening posts that border the Ashen Market. But I can make no guarantees."

She took the quill. Her hand was surprisingly steady. She thought for a moment. Choosing her words with a life-or-death precision. She couldn't use his name. She couldn't use hers. She had to write something only he would understand.

She wrote a single, simple, cryptic line:

"They are hunting your friends. They know about the girl from the alley. Run."

She sealed the message. She handed it to the Alchemist. He took it, along with her payment, and pointed to the door. Their business was concluded.

Sarah stumbled back out into the night. Her pockets were empty. Her most precious possession was gone. Her heart was a tangled knot of terror and a strange, fierce hope. She had done it. She had defied the Inquisition.

WasShe had risked her life, her future, everything. For the boy who had saved her. Her innocence was hardening into a core of pure, unshakeable loyalty. She was no longer just a victim. She was now an active, willing player in his rebellion.

The message, passed from one shadowy courier to another, a whisper in the dark, finally reached its destination. It arrived at the Crimson Syndicate's headquarters.

Selene, who had been monitoring all incoming intel related to her new, valuable asset, intercepted it. She read the coded line. Her sharp mind immediately understood its implications.

She found Edward in his new safe house. He was in a deep, focused state of meditation. Trying to control and integrate the chaotic memories of the Lich. She entered without knocking.

She held out the small, sealed parchment. Her usual playful smile was gone. Her face was grim. "It seems your past isn't done with you," she said. Her voice was low and serious. "A message from the outside. From a ghost, for a ghost. It found its way to us through the old channels."

Edward opened his eyes. He took the message. He read the single, chilling line. The girl from the alley. Sarah. They knew about her. They were using her. The fragile peace he had built around his heart, the cold, pragmatic walls, they all came crashing down.

But before the wave of cold, protective fury could crest, Selene spoke again. Her voice was even grimmer.

"But there's more," she said. Her own holographic HUD flared to life on her wrist. She pointed to a flashing, red, high-priority alert. A World Announcement. A system-wide broadcast visible to every high-ranking hunter.

[World Announcement: A high-threat dungeon breach has occurred in Sunstone City's residential district 7.]

Edward froze. His blood turned to ice. He knew that district. Its every street. Its every alley. He had walked it a thousand times. A quiet, unassuming, middle-class neighborhood.

It was where Sarah lived.

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