As soon as all of you stepped into Ignihyde, Grim squinted at the glowing circuitry embedded wherever you looked. “I don’t like this place. It feels too quiet, but at the same time, it’s like the walls are watching me.”

Leona walked past you without the slightest hesitation. “Then stay behind and talk to the walls. I’m not waiting.”

Jack followed close behind, his posture straight and his eyes scanning for potential threats. You stepped in last, taking in the doors that seemed futurist but ancient simultaneously.

Grim marched up to the entrance and knocked loudly. “Hey! Open up! We know you’re in there!”

For several seconds, it was totally quiet. Then, a muffled, frantic voice echoed through a nearby intercom speaker. “I’m not here! The Idia you are looking for is currently unavailable and has moved to a server where social interaction is disabled!”

Grim blinked at the speaker. “We didn’t even say who we were yet!”

“That makes it worse!” Idia snapped, his voice rising in pitch. “Anonymous visitors are the final boss of social anxiety! Go away! This feels like a trap. I’m not getting dragged into whatever quest-line or social disaster you’ve triggered!”

A small panel on the wall flickered to life, revealing a camera lens that zoomed in on your group.

“Wait, you brought Leona?” Idia’s voice turned into a hiss. “A high-level physical tank and a prefect who always attracts trouble wherever they go? This is definitely a setup. You’re here to frame me for something! I’m taking the back system route, I’m out!”

Leona scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Open the door, shut-in, or I’ll see how much pressure these hinges can take before they snap.”

There was a long, tense pause.

“You would actually do that, wouldn’t you?” Idia mumbled.

The sound of multiple electronic locks clicking open echoed through the hall. The door slid aside with a pressurized hiss.

Inside, a dizzying array of glowing screens illuminated the room in shades of neon blue. Ortho Shroud stood near the entrance and offered a polite smile.

“Welcome to Ignihyde,” Ortho said. “I apologize for my brother. He is currently experiencing a sudden spike in his cortisol levels due to your unexpected arrival.”

“I do not apologize for anything!” Idia yelled from somewhere deeper in the darkened room, his hair flickering with nervous blue flames.

Grim seemed distracted by the flashing lights and wandered away from the group. “Ooh, what’s this shiny red button do? Is it a snack dispenser?”

“Please do not press that, Grim,” Ortho calmly warned.

But Grim pressed it. A deafening alarm blared for a split second, and red warning lights strobed across the ceiling. Ortho moved with lightning speed, his fingers dancing across a holographic interface to shut it down instantly.

Grim froze in place, looking guilty. “I didn’t do anything! The machine started it!”

Leona dragged a hand down his face, looking even more exhausted. “Useless. Can we get to the point before the cat blows up the dorm?”

Jack took out a small notebook, looking at the glowing consoles with a disciplined focus. “We came to ask about Riddle. He collapsed yesterday evening, and we thought Ignihyde might have the biometric data to explain why.”

From behind a massive, multi-monitor setup, Idia peeked out. His sharp gaze darted between you and Jack like he was looking for a hidden weapon.

“Why me?” Idia grumbled. “I didn’t do anything. I was in my room. I have logs. My activity data is timestamped. I have multiple alibis in three different MMOs!”

“No one is accusing you, Idia,” you calmly said.

“That’s exactly what people say right before they drop a massive accusation!” Idia sighed, though he slowly rolled his high-tech chair closer to the center of the room. “Fine. I’ll pull up the data. But if this turns into a blame-spiral, I’m logging off and locking the doors.”

Idia’s fingers blurred across his keyboard. Several holographic screens expanded in the air before you.

“Mr. Zero EQ,” Idia began as he typed away. “Dorm leader. High magic output. Extremely high stress baseline. Basically, his stats are always capped.”

Jack leaned in, squinting at the complex graphs. Leona stayed back, closing his eyes, but his ears were focused on Idia.

“According to the campus-wide monitoring systems,” Idia continued, “his magic output spiked irregularly about an hour prior to his collapse.”

“What does that mean in normal words?” Grim asked, tilting his head.

“It means something disrupted his internal equilibrium,” Idia explained, tapping a specific peak on the graph. “His magical signature became unstable, like a server under a DDoS attack.”

“External interference?” Jack curiously asked.

“Inconclusive,” Idia replied, shaking his head. “There is no clear signature of a direct magical projectile or a curse. If someone hit him, they used a stealth build I can’t track.”

Ortho hovered closer, analyzed the data alongside his brother. “However, we should consider that his physical condition may have contributed to the event. Biometric readings suggest he was physically vulnerable.”

“Vulnerable how?” You asked.

Ortho’s eyes narrowed. “Environmental stress is a factor, but there is also a recorded intake imbalance in the hours leading up to the event.”

Idia waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, but that’s super basic. We’re obviously looking for a high-level magic anomaly, not something as mundane as what he ate.”

You frowned. “Intake? As in food and drink?”

“Exactly,” Idia mumbled. “But the logs show no confirmed record of Riddle consuming any regulated dorm beverages after the evening tea hour.”

Jack’s brows furrowed. “No recorded intake at all?”

Ortho nodded. “Correct. There is no logged data of him consuming liquids.”

“So no poison,” you whispered, tapping your chin with your index finger.

“Theoretically, yes. I’m just saying the logs are empty,” Idia added.

Leona’s eyes flickered toward the screens, though he remained silent. You stepped closer to the holographic map. “Can you track his movement through the school before he went back to his dorm?”

Ortho nodded and pulled up a secondary screen. A faint, glowing line traced a path across a digital layout of the campus.

“Riddle’s pathing data shows significant movement toward the Octavinelle territory earlier that evening,” Ortho revealed.

Grim immediately pointed a claw at the screen. “I knew it! See! All roads lead back to the octopus!”

Idia looked uncomfortable, pulling his hood lower. “Look, that doesn’t prove a crime happened. People go to the Mostro Lounge all the time.”

“But it proves he was there,” Grim shot back.

Jack crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed. “Which aligns perfectly with the rumors we heard. He went to confront someone about the deals being made.”

Idia leaned back in his chair, sighing heavily. “Look, Octavinelle’s supply chains are a total nightmare to track anyway. They move a lot of product through the school. It’s all encrypted and off-book.”

“What kind of product?” Grim narrowed his eyes.

“Drinks, food, custom contracts, whatever,” Idia said quickly. “If he consumed something there, it wouldn’t show up on my official campus intake logs. It’s all private business.”

The suspicion settled heavily in your gut. Azul. It always came back to deals and hidden transactions.

“There is also a minor note in the medical sub-file regarding a slight electrolyte imbalance at the time of collapse.” Ortho calmly spoke up.

Grim blinked. “Electro-what? Is that like a lightning spell?”

“Salt levels and hydration balance,” Ortho explained patiently.

Idia waved it off again, rolling his eyes. “Again, Ortho, that’s just basic biology. That wouldn’t explain a full magical collapse. We need to find the glitch in the magic, not the salt in his blood.”

“So, there was no magic attack?” you asked, summarizing the findings.

“No confirmed evidence of one,” Idia replied, his fingers twitching toward his keyboard as if he was itching to return to his games.

“And no clear cause for the collapse,” Jack added, closing his notebook with a frustrated snap.

“Too many variables and not enough clean data,” Idia concluded, already starting to turn his chair away from the group.

“So this whole trip was useless.” Grim huffed.

Leona pushed off the wall, walking toward the exit without a word, though his silence felt more pressed than usual. “I told you this would be a waste of time.”

You ignored the comment and looked at the screens one last time. “Thanks for the help, Idia.”

Idia blinked, looking surprised that you weren’t staying to argue. “Wait, that’s it? You’re just leaving?”

“For now,” you replied.

Ortho smiled politely as the group moved toward the door. “Please visit again soon! I can prepare a presentation on hydration if you like!”

“Absolutely not,” Idia’s voice echoed as the doors slid shut.

The natural breeze on the main campus was a sharp contrast to the filtered oxygen of Ignihyde.

Grim looked up at you, his tail swishing. “So, we’ve got a path to Octavinelle. You think he got poisoned?”

“But we still have no proof of an attack. And the magic spike suggests it wasn’t just a simple poison.” Jack frowned.

Leona glanced at you from the side, his eyes narrowed. “And no evidence of a spell being cast on him. Interesting, isn’t it?”

You nodded slowly. “Something doesn’t add up.”

“Looking at all the evidence so far, who do you think is the main culprit?” Jack curiously asked.

“Heartslabyul members. Things seemed strange there.”