[Location: Gaius' Tower – Workshop, Early Morning]
The tower was quiet except for the ticking of the clockwork kettle.
Outside, Camelot still slept under a thin veil of fog.
Gaius had cleared the central table, sweeping scrolls and jars aside until only a single candle remained between us.
Its flame trembled with every breath.
"Magic leaves a signature," he said, voice low. "Like footprints in wet soil. You can't always see it, but those trained to hunt can follow the trail."
He gestured for me to try.
I extended my hand. Mana gathered — faint, deliberate. The flame brightened.
Gaius nodded. "Now— conceal it."
I focused, willing the energy to fold inward, but the glow pulsed brighter instead — a heartbeat of blue that filled the room.
Merlin flinched. "You're not hiding it, you're charging it."
"Yeah," I muttered. "That's kind of the problem."
[Location: Gaius' Tower – Later]
The morning wore on with failed attempts.
Every time I tried to suppress my mana, it either leaked through cracks in my control or built up until it threatened to discharge entirely.
It reminded me of the containment failure that first triggered my jump into this world — a cascade of quantum instability feeding on itself.
But that failure had also taught me something:
Energy couldn't be deleted. Only redirected.
So I started thinking differently.
Not "hide the light."
But "change the way the world sees the light."
I drew a circle of chalk around my feet — geometric, but simplified. Instead of amplifying mana, I inverted the flow, forcing my field to mimic background energy levels.
Merlin watched, skeptical. "You're bending your aura to match the air?"
"Think of it like… noise-canceling," I said. "Two waves meeting, cancelling each other out."
The air shimmered faintly — then went still.
The candle flame stopped flickering.
For a moment, even the sound of my heartbeat seemed to vanish.
Gaius's eyes widened. "By the gods…"
Then the chalk cracked, the pattern collapsed, and the energy recoiled like a breath snapping back.
The candle exploded.
Merlin yelped. "You're going to burn the tower down!"
I exhaled, shaking soot off my sleeve. "Almost worked."
[Location: Tower Balcony – Noon]
Hours later, I sat on the balcony, staring out over the training fields.
Merlin was with Arthur again, probably getting yelled at.
I closed my eyes, listening.
Every living thing had a rhythm — heartbeats, wind currents, mana flow.
The world wasn't static; it pulsed, breathed.
If I could match that rhythm — not overpower it, not hide from it — I could blend in.
I slowed my breathing. Let my thoughts scatter.
My quantum mana field began to flatten, syncing with the faint ambient hum of Camelot's leylines.
When I opened my eyes again, the air around me felt… neutral. Empty.
Even I could barely feel myself.
Footsteps approached — Gaius.
He stopped beside me, gaze scanning the space I occupied. His eyes passed over me once before snapping back.
"Impressive," he said softly. "Even I almost didn't see you."
I smiled faintly. "Then it worked."
He nodded. "Partially. You're still too rigid. Magic is alive — you can't reduce it entirely to equations."
I met his gaze. "Equations are alive, Gaius. We just pretend they're not."
He chuckled. "Then perhaps that's your gift — to see the living in the mechanical."
[Location: Gaius' Tower – Night]
By nightfall, I'd refined the technique — smoother, quieter. The mana concealment field held for nearly half an hour before destabilizing.
Not perfect, but enough to stay invisible to anyone not actively searching.
Merlin called it "weird."
Gaius called it "useful."
I called it Quantum Masking.
For the first time since arriving in Camelot, I felt… safe.
But the quiet didn't last.
As I looked out toward the castle from the tower window, a shimmer of mana flared — distant, sharp, deliberate.
Not random. Not natural.
Someone else was practicing magic.
And their resonance wasn't ordinary.
Morgana.
[End of Chapter 13]