The Day Four matches proceeded on schedule.
Team elimination rounds — four-person squads from each academy battling in structured combat scenarios. The crowd roared at explosive displays of magic and martial prowess. Commentators analyzed techniques and predicted bracket outcomes. Bookmakers adjusted odds with every match. The tournament machine churned forward, oblivious to the covert war being waged beneath its spectacle.
Ethan sat in the stands with Victoria and Seraphina, performing the role of students enjoying competition. They cheered at the right moments, discussed techniques with apparent enthusiasm, and interacted casually with other Celestia delegates who wandered past their section. Victoria was convincingly boisterous, slapping the railing and shouting encouragement at their academy's team. Seraphina maintained her characteristic cool composure, offering analytical observations on magical form and tactical decisions.
To any observer, they were exactly what they appeared to be.
Inside, Ethan's mind was a hurricane.
The extraction had succeeded. Luna's father was safe. The Alliance's most dangerous leverage over Luna had been permanently eliminated. By any reasonable measure, the morning had been an unqualified victory.
But Ethan couldn't stop thinking about consequences.
Every change he made to the timeline sent ripples outward — some predictable, some not. Preventing Aria's kidnapping had been straightforward; the Alliance's operational plans were described in detail in the novel, and countering them required superior positioning rather than fundamental alterations to the story's physics. The extraction was different. Removing Kael Nightshade from Alliance custody didn't just change one event — it removed an entire subplot from the novel's future, a subplot that had influenced dozens of subsequent chapters across multiple story arcs.
In the original timeline, Luna's forced betrayal had been the catalyst for a massive crisis in Volume Seven. That crisis had, in turn, accelerated certain political developments that shaped the war against the Demon King. Without it, the political landscape of the later story became unpredictable. Alliances that had formed in response to the crisis might never materialize. Conflicts that had been resolved through the crisis's aftermath might fester instead.
Ethan had saved three hundred lives by preventing the betrayal. But he had also destroyed his ability to predict an entire section of the future.
His knowledge advantage was shrinking with every intervention.
"You're doing it again," Victoria said, not looking at him. Her eyes were on the match below — Celestia's team was fighting Obsidian Academy in the quarterfinal bracket — but her words were directed at Ethan.
"Doing what?"
"The thing where your body is here but your mind is three chess moves ahead, calculating disasters that haven't happened yet. Your jaw tightens and you get this specific crease between your eyebrows." She finally glanced at him. "Whatever you're worrying about, it can wait until tonight."
"It really can't."
"It can. Because right now, Luna's father is alive and being healed, the Alliance is locked in their own compound throwing furniture, and we're winning this tournament. If you spend the victory strategizing about future losses, you'll never actually experience being alive." Victoria's golden eyes held his. "Take the win, Blackwood. You've earned it."
Seraphina said nothing, but Ethan caught her ice-blue gaze and saw agreement there — subtle, barely perceptible, expressed through the slight softening of her otherwise perfect diplomatic mask.
He tried to take the win. He tried to sit in the sun and watch students fight and feel the satisfaction of a plan executed flawlessly.
It lasted until 11:43 AM.
That was when the system notification appeared.
[URGENT WARNING]
Timeline Deviation: CRITICAL
Original Event: Apostle Awakening — Tournament Day 7
Revised Event: Apostle Awakening — Tournament Day 5 (TOMORROW)
Cause: Accumulated timeline interventions have created cascading mana disruptions across Aethermoor. The seal containing the Apostle of Shadow beneath the coliseum has been weakened by the combined effects of:
Combat mana saturation from kidnapping battle (Day 3) Spatial threading micro-distortions (Day 4) Residual divine energy from Lucien Ashford's tournament matches Ambient emotional resonance from 50,000+ spectators
These disruptions have accelerated seal degradation by approximately 48 hours.
The First Apostle of Shadow — Malachar — will manifest tomorrow during tournament events.
Estimated casualties (original timeline): 347
Estimated casualties (current trajectory): UNKNOWN — insufficient data for reliable modeling
The sun was still shining. The crowd was still cheering. Victoria was still shouting encouragement at the match below.
And Ethan felt the ground drop out from beneath him.
He had caused this.
Not deliberately, not through any single decision, but through the accumulated weight of every careful, calculated intervention he'd made since arriving in this world. The kidnapping battle had saturated the coliseum's substructure with residual combat mana. Elena's spatial threading had created micro-distortions in the dimensional barriers — including, apparently, the ancient seal that kept a demon general imprisoned beneath the arena. Lucien's divine light, unleashed during his tournament matches, was specifically antithetical to the seal's dark-element binding.
Each disruption was minor. Together, they were catastrophic.
The butterfly effect had caught up with him.
"Ethan." Seraphina's voice was quiet. Controlled. She had seen his face change. "What is it?"
He considered lying. The instinct was powerful — protect them, shield them, carry the weight alone because that's what he'd always done. He was the prophet, the planner, the one who saw the future and positioned everyone else to survive it. Showing vulnerability was showing weakness, and weakness in this world got people killed.
But Luna's words echoed: Your knowledge gives us the blueprint. My skills give us the execution.
And Aria's: Let me share the weight. You don't have to carry everything alone.
"Not here," Ethan said. His voice was steady, which required more effort than any spell he'd ever cast. "Tonight. Everyone. We need a war council."
Seraphina studied his expression with the political instincts of a woman raised in a court where misreading faces meant death.
"How bad?" she asked.
"The worst thing that happens in this entire tournament arc. And it's happening a day early." He paused. "Because of me."