The Hall of Witches had not been this full in years. Senators, elders, researchers, and representatives from across the Witching Hour filled the circular chamber beneath the grand spire. Protective sigils lined the walls, faintly glowing as layers of defensive magic reinforced the structure. It was not ceremonial. It was precautionary with how many there were inside. Even the air felt heavier than usual, as if the room itself understood something irreversible was about to happen.
At the center stood Charlotte Sweeiz's summoning point. Or rather, the absence of it. A ripple of space tore open without warning. It was her usual purple light bent inward like a wound in reality before expanding into a stable portal. From it, Charlotte stepped out as if walking through an ordinary doorway. Purple light faded behind her as she entered the chamber, carrying herself with the casual confidence of someone who had never once worried about making an entrance. The murmuring began instantly. Whispers spread through the chamber like fire across dry paper.
Some looked relieved.
Most looked concerned.
One senator buried her face in both hands.
"This is going to end badly."
"It always does."
"That's not reassuring."
Senators leaned forward immediately.
"You're telling us you've been a man this entire time?!"
"How is that even possible?"
"Since when can men use magic?"
"Why didn't anyone know about this?"
Others shouted over them.
"You've gone too far with your heresy!"
"A man?! Absurd!"
And beneath it all, a quieter current: Younger witches watching in silence. The younger generation appeared far less concerned. If anything, they looked interested. Charlotte looked around once, as if confirming everyone had finished speaking. Then she smiled.
"Are we done?"
Silence tightened instantly. Then, right in front of everyone, her appearance flickered. Charlotte became Aster. Aster became Charlotte. Then Aster again.
Several senators immediately looked offended. One looked dangerously close to developing a migraine. Charlotte noticed. Which was exactly why she did it a second time. Persephone remained seated, watching the spectacle with the calm expression with her mastery over Crystallification. Edith, meanwhile, sat unusually still. Her gaze never left the figure standing at the center of the chamber. The revelation from the livestream still hadn't fully settled in her mind. Every time Charlotte became Aster, then Aster became Charlotte again, it only made the situation feel more absurd.
Across the chamber, Mildred Rossi pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Enough."
Her voice carried throughout the hall. The murmuring stopped. A few senators attempted to continue anyway but Mildred immediately raised her voice.
"Quiet."
That worked considerably better. The chamber gradually fell silent. Mildred pointed toward the center of the room.
"You demanded answers."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Then let him speak."
Aster's appearance shifted one final time, settling into Charlotte Sweeiz. Charlotte tilted her head slightly.
"Thank you, mistress."
Then he smiled.
"I'll explain," he said casually.
That alone made several elders stiffen. Charlotte raised a hand and mana gathered around her body. The movement was subtle at first. Then the flow became visible, which she made sure to be visible for everyone. Threads of silver-blue mana drifted toward her from every direction, converging upon her like rivers returning to the sea. The chamber fell silent, all watching with a stern look, focused on what she's presenting. Every witch present could feel it. It was neither a spell nor an enchantment. It was a circulation technique.
"This is what you've all been doing since birth," Charlotte said as silver-blue streams of mana continued converging around her. Her eyes drifted across the chamber, taking in the stunned expressions around her. Every witch learned to absorb ambient mana. Every witch relied upon it. Charlotte simply approached the process differently. With a casual gesture toward the sky far above the underground city, she explained that she wasn't collecting the mana already lingering in the air. She was drawing it directly from the source long before it dispersed throughout the world.
This was not the first time Persephone had witnessed it. While much of the chamber stared in confusion, the ancient witch remained silent. Her eyes followed the currents of mana effortlessly. She had already unraveled the principles behind the technique long ago. The Lunarian Principle was not beyond her understanding. What unsettled her was how absurdly simple it seemed in hindsight that she doubted herself on how simple it is.
Several senators shifted uncomfortably.
"That is known."
"Incorrectly known," Charlotte corrected gently. Her tone wasn't dismissive and that somehow made it worse. She gestured upward.
"You believe mana is ambient. Passive. Everywhere, but undirected."
Her hand lowered.
"It is not."
A miniature moon of silver-blue mana slowly formed above her palm.
"The moon is the primary celestial source of mana on this world."
A ripple of silence followed. Charlotte continued.
"Witches are naturally attuned to lunar resonance. That is why mana flows into them more efficiently. Their bodies act as conduits for that absorption."
A pause.
"Men, however, are not attuned to the moon."
A senator scoffed.
"Of course they aren't. That is known—"
"To the sun," Charlotte interrupted. Silence again. This one heavier. Charlotte looked at the chamber.
"The answer is actually pretty simple." Charlotte looked around the room. "Women are naturally closer to the moon. Men are naturally closer to the sun." She paused. "The sun isn't exactly known for teaching spellcasting."
A few younger witches snorted.
"I never said anything about spellcasting. What it does provide is stronger physiques, greater stamina, and a number of physical advantages." Her smile widened slightly. "At some point, people saw that and decided men simply couldn't use magic."
She tilted her head.
"That assumption was incomplete."
The miniature moon above Charlotte's hand drifted upward. A second sphere appeared beside it, this one golden and warm like a tiny sun. The two lights slowly circled one another, illuminating the chamber in silver and gold.
For centuries, people had treated those affinities as fixed. Women naturally aligned with the moon. Men naturally aligned with the sun. That part had never been wrong. The mistake was assuming the two could never overlap. Charlotte explained that men could not naturally draw mana from the moon. However, there was nothing preventing them from learning how. In the same way, a woman could theoretically be taught to cultivate a stronger solar affinity to be physically stronger like of a man if she wished. The process was neither simple nor easy, but it was possible.
Mildred Rossi slowly raised a hand to her temple.
"...I'm going to get a headache."
Charlotte ignored her. The Lunarian Principle, as she called it, was never intended to replace the natural connection witches already possessed. Women drew upon lunar mana instinctively from birth. Men did not. The technique existed to bridge that gap. Rather than changing a person's bloodline or altering their nature, it taught the body how to establish a connection that would otherwise never form on its own. Once that connection existed, the real work began. Mana had to be circulated, refined, and guided through pathways most people had never realized were there.
The chamber had gone completely silent by the time she finished. Persephone finally raised a hand. Her voice remained calm, though noticeably firmer than before.
"Charlotte." Her voice remained calm. "The moment this becomes public, every coven, academy, and magical family will want it."
"You're removing a limitation that people have accepted for centuries." Her eyes narrowed. "That is going to affect far more than magic."
A murmur spread through the chamber, no longer unified. Some senators leaned back as if physically distancing themselves from the idea, while others leaned forward, suddenly more interested than afraid. A few younger representatives exchanged glances that bordered on excitement. The divide was immediate. Not between factions, but between generations.
Charlotte nodded lightly.
"I know."
Persephone's expression tightened slightly.
"…Do you understand what will happen if every man gains access to magic?" A beat of silence. Charlotte answered simply.
"Yes." She raised a finger. "Which is why I already implemented it."
The chamber grew quieter. Charlotte continued before anyone could interrupt.
"Lunarium students have been using a simplified version of the Lunarian Principle for months."
Silence.
Then the room exploded.
"What?!"
"That's impossible!"
"You never reported that!"
Charlotte blinked.
"I did."
A brief pause.
"Several times, actually."
More silence but Charlotte just shrugged.
"Most of you assumed I was being metaphorical."
A few older witches stiffened at that statement. Not because it was surprising, but because it was familiar. The Lunarium had always operated on the edge of what traditional theory considered acceptable. Each breakthrough had been dismissed at first. Each dismissal had aged poorly.
Mildred's headache visibly worsened. Persephone exhaled slowly.
When someone demanded to know whether Lunarium students had been taught the technique, Charlotte simply nodded. Not at first, she clarified. The Lunarian Principle had been refined long before it ever reached a classroom. With absolutely no concern for Aurora's rapidly deteriorating mood, she pointed directly at her. Aurora immediately looked like she regretted attending the meeting. Only after the technique had been tested, refined, and simplified did it become part of Lunarium's curriculum. The explanation did little to calm the room. Murmurs erupted almost immediately. Charlotte waited patiently for them to finish before adding that, in case anyone was wondering, nobody had exploded. That somehow made several senators look even more concerned.
A sharper voice cut through the chamber. Circe Welsch stood abruptly. Aurora's grandmother. Her presence alone made several senators fall silent.
"This is insanity!" Her voice echoed through the hall. "First, you spawned Calamities! Second, you reveal men can also use magic! And now this?! Distributing your mana circulation to the public?!" She pointed directly at Charlotte. "You are going to destroy the balance of this world!"
Charlotte looked at her calmly. Then smiled.
"If knowledge alone was enough to create Calamities, half this room would've ended the world already."
Circe's expression tightened. Charlotte continued.
"The Lunarian Principle does not grant overwhelming power as you people think."
She raised her hand slightly.
"The Lunarian Principle doesn't make anyone powerful." Charlotte sounded almost amused. "It just lets them use mana more efficiently." She gestured toward the senators. "Everything after that still requires training, talent, and effort."
His gaze drifted toward the Panthera and Raven, respectively.
"In fact, some of the old family circulation techniques are stronger in the early run." A few heads turned. "The Pantheras and Ravens have spent generations refining their methods. Their descendants start with advantages my technique doesn't provide."
Charlotte shrugged.
"The Lunarian Principle isn't some miracle shortcut." His smile widened slightly. "It just happens to scale ridiculously well if you're patient enough."
A faint shift passed through the hall as she spoke. Not visible, but felt. Several witches instinctively checked their internal mana flow, as if testing whether the theory resonated with them. Some frowned. Others blinked slowly. It was the kind of explanation that did not sound like theory anymore. It sounded like something they had already been doing without realizing.
Charlotte seemed to notice the confusion spreading through the chamber. The Lunarian Principle, she explained, was not the reason she was powerful. At most, it provided a better foundation. She gestured toward Aurora and Emilia, both of whom immediately looked like they wanted to be somewhere else. They had been practicing the technique for years, yet neither had become the world-ending disaster some senators seemed convinced would appear the moment the principle became public. The body, Charlotte continued, possessed natural limitations that affected how mana flowed and circulated. Most people spent their entire lives unaware of them. She had spent years studying those limits and had discovered methods to gradually overcome them, improving efficiency and control in the process. The Lunarian Principle helped establish the foundation, but everything afterward still depended on the individual. Training, talent, experience, discipline, and time could not be skipped. Giving someone access to mana was not the same as giving them mastery over it.
Circe looked furious.
"That is exactly why it is dangerous!"
Charlotte simply smiled.
"Or necessary."
The chamber fell quiet again. Older witches were the first to realize it. Charlotte had not violated any magical law. She had not destroyed tradition. She had simply stepped outside the assumptions those traditions were built on. Mildred Rossi exhaled slowly.
"…Of course she did."
Persephone lowered her hand slightly.
"…Charlotte."
Charlotte turned toward her. Persephone's voice remained calm.
"You can control how it begins. You won't be able to control where it ends."
Charlotte nodded.
"I know." A pause. Persephone continued. "And you are still going to do it."
Charlotte's smile returned.
"Yes."
Silence. Then, quietly:
"This world is already changing." She looked across the chamber. "I'm just making sure it doesn't collapse while it's in the process of entering a new age." A pause. Then, almost casually: "Besides." She gestured toward himself. "The proof is standing right in front of you."
Nobody spoke and nobody needed to.
Charlotte Sweeiz was a man.
Aster Collins was a man.
The strongest witch alive was a man. The argument had already been lost the moment he walked into the chamber. Across the hall, Circe Welsch opened her mouth. Then stopped. For perhaps the first time that day, she couldn't think of a single counterargument.