SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 646: Aurevane’s Shame

No one answered at first.

The long administrative chamber held twelve officials around a table polished to a mirror, every one of them wrapped in the expensive calm Aurevane loved to market as wisdom. That calm cracked the instant Selara's words reached them. A pen slipped from one man's fingers. A woman near the far window blanched at the phrase Void-born material. A third official's eyes flicked to the door, already tallying how many guards waited outside and how fast this could be buried.

One of the senior officials rose, slow and stiff. "Director Selara, that accusation is gravely serious. You cannot simply walk into a council session and start hurling words like that across the table."

"I can," Selara said. "I already have."

His jaw set. "This is not how Aurevane conducts internal review."

Matteo limped in behind her, leaning on his cane harder than his pride enjoyed. Blood marked his coat, and his face carried the grey pallor of a man holding himself upright on spite and potion alone. "If this is your notion of internal review, I'd recommend retirement for everyone at this table."

Several gazes snapped to him, nerves and quiet arithmetic rippling around the room. That was when they noticed Trafalgar.

It shifted the air faster than Selara's accusation had. A director could be argued with. Matteo could be managed, buried under procedure, or worn down through committees. Trafalgar du Morgain standing in their chamber turned the whole conversation into something that dwarfed Aurevane's reputation.

One official swallowed. "Why is House Morgain involved?"

Trafalgar regarded him without heat. "Because your people came within a breath of putting a Void-tainted homunculus on a public stage."

The man had nothing to answer with.

Before anyone could regroup, Caelum inclined toward Trafalgar. "Young Master, with your permission, I'll sweep the surrounding floors. If anyone starts shredding records or leaving in a hurry, I would rather know about it."

Trafalgar nodded once. "Go."

Caelum slipped out without ceremony, and most of the room barely registered his exit. That was the point.

Selara advanced on the table. "You buried the homunculus beneath the Glass Atrium. Guarded, shielded, walled off from inspection, dressed up as this year's winning presentation. Your committee swallowed the creator's conditions whole: no probing, no contact, observation only. And you called that discretion."

The woman by the window found her voice. "We were told the creation was stable. The reports filed with us classified it as an artificial vessel."

"Filed by the creator?" Selara asked.

"And by assigned technical staff."

Matteo let out a dry scrape of a laugh. "So Aurevane let a monster grade his own crime and complimented the penmanship."

The official at the head of the table flattened both palms against the polished wood. "We had no confirmation of Void-born contamination. If such material exists inside the construct, the creator hid it from us."

Selara's gaze turned to flint. "You didn't need the full recipe to smell that the room was rotten. You buried it deep enough that no guest could ask a single question. You agreed that no one could examine it properly. You were ready to parade a child-shaped creation in front of the whole continent because the result looked impressive."

A younger official flinched at the word child.

Another leaned in, his voice dropping low and urgent. "Director, whatever has happened here, this cannot leave the chamber carelessly. If the Council of Sages catches wind that Aurevane let Void-born material into a public event, they will crack this city open. Laboratories sealed, archives seized, researchers hauled off for questioning. The whole event collapses before nightfall."

"You might have weighed that before you polished the stage," Selara said.

Trafalgar tracked the argument, though part of his attention had drifted somewhere colder.

'They're terrified of the Council, and they ought to be. The moment word reaches the Sages about her, they'll come for all of it. The records, the samples, Esmond too if they learn he's breathing. And her. Her above everything. A living homunculus carrying Void-born material, cut loose from her creator's command, wounded but functional. Victim or weapon? Likely both. If the thing nested inside her can wake, spread, call out, or answer something from beyond this world, sparing her becomes a mistake paid for by people who never glimpsed her face. But putting her down for what she might one day become would be cowardice wearing the mask of caution.'

He disliked the thought. He disliked even more that he couldn't get rid of it.

The head official drew a careful breath. "The homunculus must remain under Aurevane custody until a full technical review is complete."

"No," Selara said.

"You don't have the authority to remove it."

"I have enough authority to burn every career in this room down to the roots if you try to keep her."

The table went quiet.

Matteo's cane tapped once against the floor. "She's right. Force the custody and this turns into a public fight, one you'll lose. Even if you win the first vote, you lose the moment the Council arrives and asks why you fought so hard to keep a Void-born construct in your tower."

The official's face soured. "Lord Matteo, you are wounded and emotional."

"I am wounded. Don't flatter yourself that you did enough damage to reach my mind."

Trafalgar moved to Selara's side. "The homunculus leaves Aurevane's control. Selara supervises her. Matteo keeps the legal record intact. Copies of every document tied to the creation, the chamber, the creator, and the approval that waved it through will be prepared."

A murmur threaded around the table.

The woman near the window picked her words with care. "Prepared for whom?"

Trafalgar met her eyes. "For me."

That changed the shape of the room again. Not as violently as House Morgain's name would have, but enough. A direct request from Trafalgar du Morgain was still a problem they could not treat as a student's curiosity.

The woman's mouth tightened. "Aurevane records cannot simply be handed to an outside heir."

Trafalgar's expression did not shift. "Then prepare them for House Morgain to decide whether this stays contained or becomes a formal accusation."

No one liked that answer.

That was what made it useful.

Selara planted both hands on the table and leaned in. "Here's how this goes. The homunculus is pulled from the event for security irregularities. The public explanation stays dull. Your internal records are sealed before anyone in this building can touch a line of them. Copies come to me, Matteo, and Trafalgar. No Aurevane researcher goes near her without my say-so. If a single page goes missing, if one witness is leaned on, if one guard suddenly forgets a corridor existed, I hand everything to the Council of Sages and let them dig until they strike bone."

The head official held her stare through a long, ugly breath. "You're asking us to trust you."

Selara didn't blink. "No. I'm handing you a way to survive your own stupidity."

Matteo coughed into his fist, smothering almost none of his amusement.

One by one, the officials traded glances. Pride put up a fight. Fear won it.

"Fine," the head official said at last. "Temporary containment under your supervision. Records sealed. No public mention of Void-born material. Copies will be prepared for review."

Trafalgar heard the careful wording and let it pass for now. Prepared for review. Not surrendered. Not confessed. Bureaucrats really did bleed ink before blood.

Selara straightened. "Good."

She turned for the door, paused, and looked back at them. "You wanted prestige so badly you stopped asking what you were setting on that stage. Don't pretend one man fooled all of you. You looked away because the result was beautiful."

No one answered.

Outside the chamber, Caelum waited by the corridor window, hands folded behind his back.

Trafalgar's eyes narrowed. "Anything?"

"Nothing useful, Young Master," Caelum said. "A few nervous clerks. Two assistants trying to understand why half the tower suddenly locked its records. No one worth detaining."

"Good."

Caelum inclined his head. "For now, yes."

And with that, the important day of Aurevane finally arrived.

Trafalgar stood beside Caelum, facing the true and living body of Orven von Halbrecht.