Jake sat on his usual bench beneath the same tree, observing the College of Magic. It had become a routine: observing, memorising, ensuring that nothing had changed since his last heist. He knew the layout by heart now, the guard rotations, the blind spots. But patience was key. Rushing in blind was how amateurs got caught. And I’m no amateur. He took a bite of his apple, chewing thoughtfully. Time for the next part of the plan. His eyes flicked toward the College entrance. They should be here right about... now. Right on cue, the same three female students from his last visit strolled into the park. They took their usual spot beneath another tree, laughing softly as they unpacked their lunches.

  Jake adjusted his position slightly. Not enough to look obvious, but enough to watch their reactions from the corner of his eye. He reached into his pocket, fingers closing around the stone. Let’s see just how much you can detect. He focused, releasing the tiniest pulse of power. The strawberry-blonde girl didn’t react. He increased it by a fraction. She swatted at the air near her ear. Jake smirked. Oh? That sensitive, huh?

  He decided to push a little further. Closing his eyes, he let out a stronger burst, a ripple of energy pulsing outward. The girl froze. She looked down at her hands, a frown forming on her face. Then she turned to her friends, speaking in a hushed voice. The tallest one stiffened and started scanning the area. Jake leaned back, biting into his apple with a quiet chuckle. Enough testing for one day. See you tomorrow.

  The next day, Jake walked into the park early, a book under his arm. He waved to a man sitting on a bench feeding the birds. The man nodded back, already used to seeing him around. Jake took his seat under the tree, flipping through his book as he ate some bread. I hope they’re not scared from yesterday. But his fears were unfounded. Like clockwork, the three students exited the College.

  Jake got up, brushing crumbs from his clothes as he wandered deeper into the park. He reached his destination: the old stone wall marking the College’s boundary. He yawned, scanning the area. No one is watching. The girls were mid-lunch now. Perfect. Jake rolled his shoulders and exhaled slowly. Please, no more nosebleeds. He laid one hand on the outer wall, the other clenched the jewel. The artefact pulsed as he gave the order. Here we go. Pink light swirled. His hand went through the stone, and he stepped forward. He couldn’t see for a second, and then he had crossed the obstacle.

  On the other side of the wall, in a cobblestone street, Jake was panting, hands on his knees. He grinned. The girl's shriek was all the confirmation he needed. He strolled away from the College, hands in his pockets. Alright, that’s as far as I can learn from the outside. He started to whistle tunelessly. Tomorrow, I will walk through the front door.

  The next day, at lunchtime, Jake strolled toward the College like he belonged there, hands in his pockets, whistling. He was a little early, so he stopped to take in the view, the tall walls, the towering spire. Here they come. Biting back a chuckle, he continued forward. As he passed the three females, he flashed his laziest grin and waved like an old friend. The strawberry-blonde girl rolled her eyes and looked away. The golden-blonde student blushed slightly, lips parting like she was about to return the smile. Jake was this close to changing his plan, until the towering shadow of the third one blocked his view. She stood in his path like a stone gate, arms crossed, eyes locked onto him like she could read his every thought. No words. No movement. Just a wall of judgment. Jake dropped the grin and held his hands up in surrender. Alright, alright, message received. He kept walking toward the College but turned back just before the entrance. The golden-blonde girl was glancing his way.

  He winked.

  She giggled.

  Grinning like a fool, Jake stepped through the College doors.

  The thief nodded to the guards standing by the short tunnel. On the other side, his boots met the cobblestones of the College courtyard.

  It was a perfect circle, with an ancient tree at its heart. A marble bench wrapped around its roots, protecting a small garden. The cobblestones were scarred with the tracks of thousands of carriages, each one carrying an important visitor over the years. The outer circle was lined with tall columns and archways, their intricate engravings whispering stories of ages past. Beyond them, the walkways were swallowed in eerie shadows. Jake arched an eyebrow. Almost enough to make me believe in magic.

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  Yawning, he wandered toward the bench, kicking a loose rock lazily along the way. He sat and scratched his head in a distracted manner. His eyes stayed focused and flicked to the marks he’d memorised. Next comes the patrol. Right on time, four guards stepped out from an archway and crossed the open courtyard. Now they turn left. As the last one disappeared, Jake got up, stretched, and let out another yawn.

  Then he took off. He sprinted toward the wall. You can’t see me… He jumped. One foot on a sculpture, he pushed upward. Fingers on the ledge. Pull, vault. He landed smoothly on the flat rooftop, rolling into position to be hidden from the courtyard. I’m not here… Footsteps stopped below. Jake’s breath hitched. His pulse hammered in his ears. The guard lingered. I’m not here, go away… Jake listened intently. He’s shifting his weight, looking up. Then boots scuffed against stone, retreating. Jake let out a slow exhale and smirked. That was the easy part.

  He carefully walked across the roof, setting a hand against the tower wall. He glanced up. Four floors. Five jumps. My limit. Jake hesitated, glancing back. He could still leave, vanish into the night, and pretend none of this ever happened. But the weight of it all settled in his gut. I have to do this. I have to know.

  He took a few shuddering breaths, bracing himself for the pain. One last inhale, then he threw himself forward. The world blurred, swirling pink mist swallowing him whole. Two steps. Exhale. His feet hit solid ground. Taking in his surroundings, he acted quickly. Stepping on a table, he jumped higher toward a shelf and kicked off immediately, launching toward the ceiling. Inhale. Phase. Now.

  Jake crashed onto the next floor, head throbbing. Shaking the dizziness away, his eyes locked onto the iron-forged chandelier overhead. He calculated the motion: Jump. Swing. Inhale. His fingers gripped the metal, then he arched his body and vaulted toward the next level. His vision was filled with bright pink light as he phased through the second ceiling. On the next floor, his knees buckled. The thief rolled onto his back and moaned. A bitter taste filled his mouth. Clenching his teeth, he got up unsteadily.

  This room was nearly empty. He ran to the window, planted his foot on the ledge, and threw himself up. Inhale. This time, a bright pink light pierced his brain through his closed eyes. Here comes the headache. I hate that part.

  The next floor greeted him with a gut-wrenching cramp, his stomach twisting in pain. Curled up on the ground, hands holding his pounding head, Jake shuddered, holding in the tears. One more. Just one more. He forced himself up, swaying on his feet. His breath came out ragged, his muscles ached, but he couldn’t stop now. He looked up.

  The last floor.

  A spiral staircase led to the final level, winding like a path toward destiny. Jake exhaled, a feral grin on his lips. Now for the grand entrance. Don’t mess this up. He took off running, lungs burning, legs screaming. He rushed up the stairs. Taking his biggest inhale yet, he threw himself at the heavy oak door and phased straight through the last obstacle.

  He landed exactly where he wanted in a puff of pink smoke. Kneeling, one fist on the ground, teeth clenched to stop his body from shaking. Slowly, he looked up. An old man sat behind the desk, perfectly calm. Jake forced himself to grin as he stood up, pretending this was easy. He planted his hands on his hips, the picture of cocky confidence.

  “Hello, Grandmaster. I was wondering if you were taking new students at the moment?” The Grandmaster arched an eyebrow. He reached for a bowl of pink, spherical candies sitting on the desk. “Fascinating,” he murmured, rolling one between his fingers. “Truly fascinating… and you don’t even trigger them.”

  Jake’s stomach twisted. Not the reaction he expected. The old man barely looked surprised. Something’s wrong. Something is really, really wrong. Following the Grandmaster’s gaze, Jake’s eyes dropped to his feet. His stomach lurched. He was standing in the center of an intricate magic circle, its lines humming with energy. Thin veins of light pulsed where his boots met the symbols. Green flickering like dying embers, red bleeding outward like spreading cracks.

  His breath hitched. A slow, icy dread climbed his spine. This wasn’t just some alarm system. This was something worse. He looked back at the Grandmaster. The old man was still watching him, utterly composed. Rolling that pink candy between his fingers. Then, in the softest, most unnerving voice, he spoke:

  “Tell me, boy, do you know why you’re still alive?”

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