An endless void stretched outward, cloaked in oppressive silence. The ground was a vast black-and-white chessboard, its tiles cracked and gleaming faintly under a dim, unnatural glow. At its center, seated upon a towering throne of black stone, was Imperial. His figure radiated dominance, shadows curling around him like loyal servants.
Before him knelt Elara and Ryne, their heads lowered in reverence.
Elara: "So that was it? That pitiful display… was supposed to be the power of the Octagram?"
Her voice dripped with disdain.
Ryne: "It was meant to oppose you, Imperial. But Asher never mastered it. He couldn't even wield it properly."
Imperial leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow against the arm of his throne. His eyes glimmered like lightning in the dark.
Imperial: "You're right. Asher was unworthy. But even in his failure, he gave me knowledge. Knowledge more valuable than victory."
He paused, letting the silence hang heavy, before continuing.
Imperial: "The Octagram… it is a method to manifest what once existed—or what has never existed at all. To succeed, it demands eight connected essences tied to the thing you wish to call forth."
He raised his hand, fingers curling as if clutching something invisible.
Imperial: "In this case, Asher attempted to revive a forbidden art—Reincarnation Magic. By combining eight rare magics, he forced it into being. But his body, his mind… were far too weak. He barely managed to summon two Emperors here. The other three—the strongest of them—were still dragged back to the places where they perished."
Elara's eyes widened slightly. Ryne clenched his fists, lips curling into a grin.
Imperial: "And yet… from his failure, I gained everything. Now I know their plan. Now I understand the true mechanics of the Octagram."
He leaned back into his throne, voice echoing with quiet authority.
Imperial: "And most importantly… I know its weakness. When the time comes, I will not only counter their ritual—"
A cruel smile spread across his face.
Imperial: "—I will shatter it."
The air shivered — for a heartbeat the dimension itself seemed to stutter, a ripple running through space like a held breath finally letting go. Imperial doubled over, a cough tearing from his chest as the aftershock washed through him.
"Elara, Ryne — you okay?" Ryne reached out, eyes flicking between the wavering air and Imperial's pale face.
Imperial managed a strained laugh and wiped his mouth. "Cough… yeah. Just the Empress's attack." He glanced toward where she'd stood, still watching with a cold calmness. "She fired something—hit my right side. It's making me… sick."
Elara's brow tightened. "She knows that secret poison spell of hers." Her hand hovered, then dropped as if the thought alone made her skin crawl. "Did she coat you with it? Can I—will a touch help?"
Imperial's expression softened at her concern.
"Thanks, Elara. I appreciate it," he said, forcing another rasping breath through his lungs. "My dark magic should heal it from within… but—" He winced as a new stab of nausea hit him. "There's a lag. The dimension glitched. This poison… it's slowing my recovery."
He coughed again, and the very space around them trembled — the dark dimension shuddering like it was about to break apart.
________________________________________
Scene Shift — Command Room
Jack slammed his hand on the table. "I'm just saying — what you all think is happening isn't the truth. He didn't betray you. He saved your asses. Not once—" He pointed straight at Gray. "—but twice."
The room was tense. All CA Commanders were present, along with Ari, Gray, Dawn, and Tracey. Everyone was bruised and bandaged, exhaustion heavy in their eyes.
Gray leaned forward. "So you're telling us that Imperial did all this on purpose — and for a good reason?" His voice was sharp. "Then explain the reason."
He frowned, recalling. "Even I was shocked when he saved us back in that village — from those two mysterious attackers. You're saying he ordered you to teleport him to me?"
Jack nodded. "Exactly. Not just that." He took a deep breath. "He planned to appear the moment things got messy at the Uniques' HQ. He promised me that none of you would die if I cooperated. If I didn't…" He hesitated. "He said every CA member would die — except your group."
Silence.
Jack continued, "So he placed a teleportation seal on me. Wherever I was — you would all be transported. That's how he reached the Uniques' HQ." He looked around. "You really think that place was easy to find?"
Silver exhaled slowly. "No… and that's what bothers me. The Uniques are wanted by every Royal Council across all empires — yet they operate freely. Everyone knows they exist, but no one can find their HQ."
Jace added, "Because one of their members uses illusion magic to hide it. But when you all arrived… that illusion was gone." He looked at them knowingly. "Something suppressed it. And that something was Imperial."
Dawn glanced nervously toward Ari, worried about how she would react to all this — Jack was practically defending Imperial.
But Ari stood calmly.
"That's… valuable information, Jack," she said quietly. "Thank you."
She rose from her seat, her expression unreadable.
"Whether Imperial is right or wrong — that's for each person here to decide." She turned toward the exit. "But one thing is certain."
She looked at her team — Gray, Dawn, Tracey.
"Get ready. We're heading to the Aetheris Empire."
She walked forward, her aura sharp.
"We've wasted enough time already."
[Ambas Town]
Ari and the others walked through the bustling streets, swallowed by the noise of merchants, clattering carts, and constant chatter. It had been over a week since the incident at the Uniques' HQ—and yet none of them had spoken openly about it since.
The heat hit like a wave. Unlike the chilly winds of the Pyronis Empire's north, Ambas was blazing with summer, the air shimmering above sunbaked stone roads. People wore light fabrics, linen cloaks, and straw hats. Even Tracey looked like he was melting wearing an straw hat.
Ari shielded her eyes from the sun. "Are you sure we're in the right place, Gray?"
Gray didn't look back, hands in pockets, scanning the town like he was reading code. "Yeah. There's a library here—supposed to be the biggest and oldest in the entire region. If there's anything about world history, relics, or even gods… it'll be there."
Dawn side-stepped a fruit cart rolling past them. "Great. Except for one tiny issue."
She spread her arms, motioning to the crowded expanse ahead.
"We have no idea where it is."
They stopped at an open balcony road overlooking the town center. From above, Ambas looked colossal—a maze of sandstone houses, colorful banners, open market squares, and spiraling towers.
Ari exhaled. "This might take a while…"
"Let's restock first," Tracey said, pointing toward a market line full of vendors selling dried meat, travel rations, fruit drinks, and skewered street food.
They split up briefly—buying canteens, bread rolls, salted jerky, and some weird glowing candy that Tracey insisted was "totally safe."
Ari, holding a bag of supplies, approached a fabric vendor.
"Excuse me. Do you know where the main library is?"
The old woman squinted at her, then grinned. "Ahh, travelers! Looking for the Ancient Hall of Archives, are you?"
Gray raised an eyebrow. "That's its name?"
"Oh yes," the woman chuckled. "You can't miss it. Right at the center of town. Tallest dome you'll see. Looks like a temple more than a library."
Ari nodded gratefully. "Thank you."
The woman leaned closer with a mysterious tone. "But be careful, dearies. Not everyone who enters… comes back out the same."
Tracey blinked. "…What's that supposed to mean?"
She only smiled and shooed them away.
Tracey laughed it off, but Dawn caught the old woman's eyes.
There was no joke in them. No superstition.
Just memory.
As if she had seen someone go in…
And come back wrong.
Ari looked at her group.
Gray smirked. "Well. That's promising."
Dawn adjusted her bag. "Then let's go find it."
Ari stepped forward, eyes sharp.
"Toward the center of town—let's see what this 'Ancient Archive' really is."
They didn't have to search long.
After just a few turns through the crowded streets, the road widened—and every thought in their heads went quiet.
There it was.
The Ancient Hall of Archives.
It rose like a mountain carved by divine hands — a colossal dome of pale stone etched with spiraling runes that shimmered under the sun. Two towering bronze doors stood at the entrance, guarded by statues of robed figures so lifelike they almost seemed to be breathing.
Crowds swarmed its steps — scholars clutching scrolls, travelers with dusty cloaks, even armored knights lined up like eager students.
Tracey let out a low whistle. "Well. Found it."
Ari stared upward, unable to hide her awe. "…This isn't a library."
Gray crossed his arms. "It's a monument built by people who worshipped books."
Dawn glanced at the bustle surrounding the entrance. "Hard to believe something so loud could be hiding so many secrets."
They exchanged looks.
No turning back.
They stepped forward together, climbing the ancient steps. As Ari placed her hand on the cold bronze door, it vibrated faintly beneath her touch — as if acknowledging her presence.
Gray raised an eyebrow. "Did it just… react to you?"
Ari didn't answer.
She pushed.
The doors groaned open
The instant they stepped inside,
the noise of the outside world vanished.
No market chatter.
No echo of footsteps.
Not even a whisper.
Just… silence.
Rows upon rows of towering shelves stretched into the distance, carved from dark ancient wood. Tall arched windows filtered in soft rays of light, illuminating drifting dust like floating silver.
Dozens — maybe hundreds — of people were already inside. But not one of them spoke. Scholars in robes sat motionless at long stone tables, flipping pages with reverence. Some wrote with feather quills in complete stillness. Others stood before massive stone tablets, running their hands across ancient carvings etched into the surface.
Dawn lowered her voice instinctively. "…It feels like we walked into a dream."
Gray scanned the walls. "No guards. No librarians. Yet everyone follows the rules."
Tracey leaned toward a stone tablet, squinting. "What language is that? Looks… older than anything I've seen."
Ari didn't answer. She was staring deeper inside — eyes fixed on something unseen.
There was a pull.
Not from a person.
Not from a book.
But from somewhere deeper.
As if the Library itself was calling them forward.
She whispered:
"Let's go in further."
They stepped quietly, their footsteps soft against the polished floor, surrounded by knowledge so ancient it felt alive.
They moved deeper into the silent hall, unaware that they were not alone.
In the shadow of a towering bookshelf, a cloaked man stood motionless — half of his face hidden beneath a hood, his eyes glinting faintly like polished obsidian.
He watched Ari's group with calculated stillness.
Then, without moving his lips, he raised a small crystal shard to his mouth — no larger than a thumb, glowing with pale blue light.
His voice was almost a whisper, yet it echoed within the crystal like thunder contained.
"They've arrived, my lord."
For a moment, the crystal was silent.
Then — a voice replied.
Calm. Echoing. Ancient.
"Guide them deeper."
A pause.
"Let them see the truth they seek…"
The crystal dimmed.
The cloaked figure lowered it… and vanished deeper between the shelves without a sound.
Unseen. Unheard. But now — they were expected.