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"Records are incomplete. Dating methods differ between settlements. And we're assuming the first documented disappearance was actually first." Professor Neris nods. "Good."

I blink. "You sound pleased."

"I am." She hands the papers back. "Certainty without evidence is dangerous." Her gaze moves between us. "But this..." She taps the sequence. "Is enough to change how we prepare."

I nod. "Will you tell the Council?"

"Yes." Nyra's mouth tightens. Professor Neris notices. "The sequence." She clarifies. "Not every source."

Nyra studies her. Then nods. Progress. "What happens if they believe it?"

Professor Neris looks toward the distant Council chambers. "Then they prepare for an attack that may come tomorrow, forty days from now, or never." She answers.

"And if they don't?"

Her expression hardens. "We prepare anyway."

That night no one disappears. Search teams return. No Jonas. No Elara. But no third name either. The news spreads through the dormitories almost like celebration. Quiet. Careful. No one wants to tempt whatever gods might be listening.

I sit on the floor of Nyra's room. Tea between us. The timeline folded inside her notebook. Her roommates are talking softly across the room. One is studying for a written dragon examination. The other is complaining about a boy. Normal problems. Normal night. "Maybe we're wrong." I say.

Nyra looks at me. "Maybe."

"You don't sound convinced."

"I'm not."

"Forty days is a long time."

"Yes."

"A lot can happen."

"Exactly."

That's not comforting. I look toward the window. Lanterns move along the paths outside. Patrols. Wardkeepers. Students returning to dormitories. Everyone accounted for. Tonight.

"Do you think they'll keep disappearing?" I ask.

Nyra takes a long time to answer. "The historical record suggests they might."

"How often?"

"We don't know."

"Every few days?"

Her eyes meet mine. "Maybe." I hate investigation. Nyra closes the notebook. "We shouldn't count days."

I frown. "Why?"

"Because then we'll start believing the number." Forty-three. I understand. "It isn't a deadline."

"No." She looks toward the window. "It's evidence."

Somewhere downstairs, someone laughs. Someone else tells them to shut up. A door closes. Footsteps move through the corridor. The Academy settles. Classes tomorrow. Patrol rotation. My manifestation review Friday. Dragon examination next week. Homework I haven't finished. Training. Research. Friends. Life. All of it continuing around something terrible we still cannot see. For the first time since Jonas disappeared nothing happens. And this time, I don't mistake that for safety.

Forty-three days ago, before the first historical attack, people had probably eaten breakfast. Gone to work. Complained about assignments. Fallen in love. Argued with their siblings. Made plans for the following week. They hadn't known they were counting down. Neither do we. The difference is we know there might be something waiting at the end.