As the orange glow of the late afternoon sun bathed the marble floor of the hallway, Patavia led the group to the headquarters of the high elites. Herta held the Hertascope like a sacred artifact, while her father carried a stack of parchments filled with equations and graphs.
Arriving at the elite's territory, sharp murmurs broke the quiet halls as robed figures turned to glance at the unfamiliar girl in their midst.
"Who is that young girl, and what is she doing here?"
"Haven't you heard? She's the one who demoted Rubert II."
"She's also the creator of a device capable of surpassing the Scepter optics."
"That's absurd!"
While the high elites whispered behind her back, Herta remained unbothered as she followed beside the adults with modest steps. Meanwhile, Bellum and Benjamin heard everything, and they were not pleased by the harsh comments.
"Those High Elite bastards—are they seriously doubting her after everything?"
"Ignore them, Benjamin. We need to keep moving."
Finally, they reached a polished wooden door with a metallic plaque that read "The Director's Office." Without hesitation, Patavia stepped forward and raised her hand to knock.
Knock... knock...
A moment passed before a voice inside answered, relaxed and familiar.
"Come in."
Patavia opened the door wide, allowing the others to enter.
Once inside, they saw Zandar lounging in his chair with one leg crossed over the other, a cup of warm tea steaming beside a stack of scrolls on his desk. Sunlight streamed through large crystal windows behind him, casting gentle shadows across the room.
His gaze shifted towards the little girl at the center, and a joyful smile tugged at his lips.
"Well, well, isn't it the young genius herself? To what do I owe the honor?"
Herta stepped forward without delay, her voice calm and poised.
"We've come to deliver good news, Mr. Zandar."
Her response earned a curious raise of the director's eyebrow.
"Now that's a rare phrase in our field. Alright, I'm all ears."
With his attention seized, Herta turned her gaze toward Patavia and gave her a subtle nod.
The disheveled woman nodded back, taking the Hertascope from the young lady. She then approached the director's desk and placed it in front of him.
"Director, the Solitary Particle Theory has finally been solved," she declared.
Zandar's eyes fell on the device, then slowly drifted towards Herta. He didn't appear shocked—if anything, he seemed amused.
"I suspected as much," he stated before briefly sipping his tea. "Frankly, it's a matter of time."
Benjamin blinked, surprised by the director's response.
"You mean you expected this to happen so soon?"
Seeing the young man's baffled reaction, Zandar playfully tapped the rim of his teacup.
"You see, when a young girl who proves herself to be a genius walks into our field and starts solving problems that no one else can, we should stop betting against the impossible."
As he said that, Albrecht approached the table and carefully placed the pile of parchments.
"Speaking of the impossible, here are some pointers from my daughter regarding the Solitary Particle Theory—she researched them last night along with her plan for the earlier debate."
Zandar leaned forward to read the contents. After a moment, he nodded in satisfaction.
"It appears that not only was the theory solved, but this young genius has also provided us with proof of its success."
Patavia gave a faint smile, respecting the director's comments.
"That is why I am here, Director. I would like to request that this young lady," she proclaimed, motioning to Herta, "be the one to declare the results to the High Elites."
Bellum tilted his head, confused by Patavia's decision.
"You started this research, Miss Sommerville. Why not present the outcome yourself?"
Patavia nodded, understanding his perplexity.
"I know, but it's because of the young lady, we managed to complete it."
Hearing her response, Bellum turned to Zandar.
"What do you think, Director?"
"..."
For a moment, silence permeated the room, broken only by the rustling of trees outside the window. Eventually, Zandar rose from his seat, walked to the door, and pulled it open. Then, he spotted a random elite outside and called out.
"Hey, you. Gather the other elites and tell them to prepare the southern conference room as soon as possible. We're having an important meeting."
"Understood, Director."
The elite gave a quick bow and dashed down the corridor.
Zandar turned back inside and motioned to the group.
"Come. Let's put this matter to rest once and for all."
--------------------------------------------
After several minutes, Zandar led Herta and her group into a room full of high elites gathered around a long table. They whispered among themselves while casting contemptuous glances at the young girl standing among the adults.
"Why is there a child in here?"
"Is this some kind of joke?"
As the high elites kept gossiping, Zandar casually strode towards the far end of the table and sat comfortably in a refined chair.
"Zandar, what is the meaning of this?" asked the grumpy, grey-haired man. "This is supposed to be an important meeting, not some juvenile performance."
"Calm down, Nyul. I know what I'm doing," Zandar reassured his associate. "These individuals are here to present one thing, and it's the conclusion of the Solitary Particle Theory."
The announcement stirred up the high elites, and their gossip became more intense.
"What?! The theory had already been solved?"
"This must be just a fluke, right?"
Zandar raised a hand, silencing the murmurs with ease.
"Everyone, please settle down. I understand the skepticism from every high elite in this room, but let's ask the person who made this breakthrough possible to explain herself."
The director lifted his hand, gesturing toward the little girl standing within the group. All gaze turned to Herta, and she calmly strode forward, holding her masterpiece.
"This device is named the Hertascope," she started, her voice calm and collected despite the elite's scrutiny. "With this, we encountered a particle smaller than a magicule."
While Herta presented the result, a wave of doubt filled the room. Unexpectedly, the grumpy, grey-haired man named Nyul stood up and slammed his hands on the table.
"You expect us to believe that device solved a five-year-long research just like that?!"
Despite Nyul's harsh question, the young girl didn't flinch and calmly cleared her throat.
"Evidently," she replied nonchalantly. "If you're still unconvinced, we have the lead researcher to confirm its completion."
Herta gazed at Patavia and nodded at her. She nodded back, adjusting her oversized glasses as she stepped forward.
"From my observations, this young lady's device accurately demonstrated the new particle's behavior. Its visuals matched the theoretical gaps I had struggled with."
A tall man with swept-back blonde hair leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. Though younger than most present, he carried himself with quiet authority.
"Even so, confirmation from a researcher, especially one as young as Miss Patavia, does not correlate to scientific consensus."
Bellum raised a hand, his expression calm.
"With all due respect, we should perhaps hear it from the originator of the device, rather than dispute her credentials."
"Is that so?" the man conceded, his gaze shifting back to the girl. "Tell me, little one—did you actually build this device?"
"I did," Herta answered without hesitation.
"Then the rumors are true," the blonde man mumbled, arching a brow. "You must have drawn the schematics as well?"
Before she could respond, Herta turned to her father.
"Papa, please show them the parchment I selected earlier."
Albrecht strode forward and carefully unfurled a parchment he had been carrying. Its surface displayed the blueprint of the Hertascope's intricate components and symbols.
"This was drawn by my daughter last night. No physical reference, no drafts—only memory."
A few elites leaned forward, narrowing their eyes at the meticulous diagram.
"So, Harald, are you satisfied with that proof?" Zandar asked his colleague.
The blonde man nodded, seemingly pleased. "Well, her blueprint checks out for me."
Hearing his answer, Zandar turned to his other elite companion.
"How about you, Nyul? Did that alleviate your grievance?"
The grumpy, gray-haired man huffed defiantly, revealing his unquenched resentment.
"Well, isn't that convenient? Who's to say she hasn't practiced that blueprint a hundred times before today?"
"I haven't," Herta replied coolly. "This is my second attempt."
That's right," Benjamin concurred. "Plus, the first one was the reason the device was made."
Nyul was baffled by the young girl's claim, left stuttering without a suitable retort. But then, a woman with brown hair and a pixelated mask started giggling while fiddling with a scalpel.
"Be careful, little lady. The faster your mind races beyond this world, the more dangerous the ground beneath your feet becomes."
Albrecht, uneased by the woman's words, stood in front of Herta, protecting her. Zandar saw that, so he turned to his female colleague.
"Polka, I assure you, she won't fall. Also, don't play with that blade, you might hurt someone."
The woman giggled again but obeyed, slipping the scalpel into her sleeve with a skillful twist of her wrist. After that, Zandar swept his gaze across the table, seeing the elite's reactions.
"So, anyone else want to ask questions?" he asked curiously.
Silence followed. Then, Harald raised his hand, eager to ask the young girl.
"What do you propose we call this new particle?"
Herta hesitated for a moment, and all eyes remained fixed on her as she stood quietly. Then, she raised her head with quiet resolve.
"Spiritron."
----------------------------------------------------
After Herta named the new particle, the atmosphere of the room shifted into a contemplative silence. The High Elites exchanged glances—some dubious, others thoughtful. The ambiance is heavy with disbelief, reverence, and lingering prejudice towards the girl's youth.
"Kuhahahaha!"
Suddenly, Nyul breaks the silence with a dismissive laugh.
"Are you serious? Spiritron? What a childish way to name something so complex."
His boorish comment stirred up tension and added a bitter sting of mockery. So much so that Herta's group was doing their best to hold Albrecht back.
"Calm down, Albrecht," whispered Bellum, appeasing his colleague.
The infuriated father grunted, wanting to break from their grasp. "He ridiculed my daughter."
"I know you're upset," Bellum continued, "but he's the co-founders of the Genius Society."
"He's right," Patavia concurred. "Unlike Rubert, we won't stand a chance against Sir Nyul."
"Oh, come on," Benjamin grumbled. "That's not fair."
While the group was arguing, Zandar couldn't help but feel bad for them. He turned to Herta, but noticed that she was unbothered by the harsh comment. The young girl met his gaze, as if telling him to do something about it.
He shifted his attention to his colleague, offering a firm rebuttal.
"Nyul, please kindly respect the young girl's judgment and act professionally."
The grumpy, grey-haired man darted a look at the director, seemingly offended.
"Why would you defend this pathetic little brat, huh? What's so special about her?"
Zandar took a deep breath, attempting to compose himself. Then, he swept his gaze across the table again before answering the question.
"To tell you all the truth, that young lady over there is no ordinary child. She was destined to become a member of the Genius Society one day."
The revelation surprised the whole room, leaving everyone but Herta bewildered.
Nyul slammed his hands on the table just then, looking completely seething.
"Her? Destined to be one of us? Have you lost your mind? Explain yourself, Zandar!"
The director gave a slow nod, his expression unreadable.
"This morning, a visitor appeared at my office window, glowing with radiant light and angelic wings made of glass and starlight. I couldn't comprehend her presence."
The room remained still, listening to the director's narrative.
"She handed me a letter and informed me that a young girl would arrive today and begin her journey here, on the path to becoming the 83rd member of this organization."
A wave of murmurs followed—quiet gasps, hushed debates, uncertain frowns. Even the most stoic High Elites exchanged anxious glances. Patavia blinked in disbelief, Bellum narrowed his eyes, Benjamin's jaw dropped, and Albrecht cracked a smile, pride overtaking his anger.
Yet, Herta didn't react, staring at the reflective surface of the table with middling apathy. The weight of the prophecy failed to reach her due to her mind being occupied elsewhere.
"A visitor with radiant light and angelic wings handed a letter... could it be..."
Meanwhile, Zandar waited for the noise to settle, then looked at Nyul.
"So, you're wondering why I place my trust in her. It's not because of that visitation alone. It's because, in just a whole day, she solved a theory that would have taken us decades to figure out. And she did it with elegance and clarity."
Nyul clenched his jaw, clearly unsettled.
"Words mean nothing without proof," he muttered. "And prophecy even less."
Zandar inclined his head. "Then judge her by the results, not the messenger."
The director slowly stood, allowing the moment to settle. Then he raised his hand.
"I move to recognize the young lady as the one who has solved the Solitary Particle Theory."
He swept his gaze across the table once more, voice steady.
"All in favor, raise your hand."
The room fell silent one more time. Then—
"I'm in favor with the little lady... for now."
Polka raised her hand first, her fingers twitching with excitement, her lips curled into an eerie smile underneath her pixelated mask.
"I'm also in favor."
Next was Harald, calm and precise, his vote cast immediately.
Others followed, some with firm certainty, some with clear reluctance. One hand raised after another like a slow ripple across still water.
Eventually, only Nyul remained.
Zandar looked at him with calm patience, then spoke anew.
"History only remembers those willing to accept the impossible."
"...."
A brief pause followed before Nyul exhaled sharply through his nose, narrowing his eyes. His pride clashed violently with the absolute truth laid before him. At last, he grunted and raised his hand, slow, bitter, and deliberate.
"Tch, what a bother."
Seeing the hands raised, Zandar nodded.
"It is now settled, then. With this majority, we'd declare the Solitary Particle Theory officially concluded. An announcement will be made tomorrow for the scholars."
A handful of applause followed—reserved, anxious. The room began to shift, minds catching up to the momentous decision.
As for Herta, she remained unmoved.
Her eyes flickered—not with satisfaction, but with quiet calculation, as if she were theorizing something far greater. This achievement was not a win for her—it was merely a step forward toward something more profound.
The spark of new challenges.