The ring lay small and dark in the dust. A strange symbol was carved into its silver band. Something drew Aron's attention toward it. His fingers stopped, hovering above it as he hesitated for a few seconds.
Then his expression went blank. His hand moved on its own. Without even realizing that he had picked it up, he took the ring. The next moment, it slid onto his finger.
Click.
A faint pulse ran through his entire body. He blinked. "...Huh?" He looked at his hand. But he had already forgotten why he had picked it up in the first place.
Before he could grasp the thought, it slipped away. The next moment, his attention returned to the cabinet as if nothing had happened.
A few feet away, Zekai was still absorbed in the old leather document. Bold letters were written across the top of the page.
[ WARNING — RULES ]
The handwriting was messy. The pen had been pressed so hard into the paper that even the fibers underneath had been damaged.
[ The ritual requires the user's blood. ]
He sighed. 'Why does everything need blood?'
[ Rule 0: You were chosen before you even came here. ]
His jaw tightened.
'The chosen one. Then this wasn't an accident.'
Before the coat. Before the shop. Maybe even before he touched the box. Someone had already decided that he would come here.
[ Rule 1: You cannot turn back. ]
'Sounds like a scam contract.'
[ Rule 2: You cannot escape. ]
His eyebrow twitched. '...Escape from what?'
[ Rule 3: Don't be afraid. ]
This line was strange. The ink had been carved so deeply into the paper that the paper around it was slightly torn. It didn't look like advice. It looked like a command.
[ Rule 4: Be impossible. ]
He gave a slightly mocking laugh. 'I'm already doing that.'
[ Rule 5: Trust your instincts. ]
Whoever wrote this must have gotten lazy halfway through writing it.
[ Rule 6: Formulate. ]
His face tightened. 'Formulate what? A plan? A prayer?'
[ End of Rules — Conclusion ]
'That was it?'
No explanation. No signature. Nothing that revealed who had written any of this.
He stared silently at the page. "Who writes rules like these?"
He folded it in half. "Basically, you're saying I'm already trapped."
Can't turn back. Can't escape. Don't be afraid. Be impossible. Trust your instincts. Formulate.
None of it explained anything. They were written as if he was already supposed to understand the shape of the trap he was caught in.
That was the worst kind of trap. Then something near the fold caught his eye—a line half-hidden along the edge of the page.
[ Messenger of God ]
Beneath it, in smaller letters and written in thinner ink than the rest, was: [ Arcana. ]
He blinked. "...Arcana?"
The word stirred something deep inside his mind. It wasn't a memory. But it felt like the shape of one—a hollow outline with nothing inside.
His gaze shifted to the Tarot cards. "What are you, really?"
He turned the page. Then he stopped. The bottom portion of the leather document had been torn away. "...What?"
Someone had deliberately removed part of the rules.
Whoever did it must have known exactly what had been written there. And they had wanted to make sure he couldn't read it.
'Someone tore this away.'
'Because they didn't want me to know something. Then why leave this much behind? They could have hidden this part too.'
He remained silent for a few moments. Then he folded the document and placed it back inside the box.
"Whatever it is, it doesn't matter." He closed the lid of the box.
"I'll find out for myself."
Inside, the Tarot cards waited silently.
Their backs were a deep, ancient red, with golden ornamentation around the edges. Black-and-silver illustrations shimmered with a faint purple glow beneath the red light.
He touched the top card.
"Hmm."
The entire deck trembled once beneath his fingers. Like a heartbeat. He tilted it slightly and looked at it. The image didn't move. It didn't catch and shift with the light like a hologram either.
It looked too real to be a printed illustration, as though something alive had been sealed inside the paper.
"This is enough to tell me I shouldn't trust you blindly."
He closed the box and slipped it into his pocket. A few meters away, Aron stood quietly, the ring hidden beneath his sleeve.
Zekai also failed to notice the faint symbol beneath it glow once before disappearing back into the darkness.
Then—
Clang!
The sound tore through the entire hall.
Zekai's head snapped up.
The massive doors behind them began to move.
"Aron?"
The doors slammed shut with a thunderous roar.
BOOM!
The impact's shockwave spread across the stone floor.
Aron flinched. "What—?!"
Zekai was already moving. His gaze was fixed entirely on the now-sealed entrance. The snake. The sword-wielding statue. Both were now trapped on the other side of the doors.
He grabbed the handle and pulled. Nothing happened. He pulled even harder. The door didn't budge.
"...Damn it."
Aron hurried over to him. "Mr. Zekai..."
Zekai looked at Aron's face. It had gone pale, as if something had been hidden from him. A suspicion arose in Zekai's mind that something might have happened to Aron.
"Did you touch anything?"
Aron froze. "...No."
His gaze flickered toward his sleeve for a moment. The ring was hidden beneath it.
Zekai didn't notice. Another sound echoed from beyond the doors.
Thud.
Something had struck the stone on the other side.
Aron shuddered. "They're still out there."
Zekai released the handle and stared at the closed doors for a long moment.
'The door wouldn't close even when we tried to shut it before, but now it's moving on its own. Something's wrong.'
Then he turned toward the darkness beyond it. "...Then we can keep going deeper inside."
"Further inside?" Aron's voice cracked slightly. "We can't go back?!"
Zekai adjusted his coat. "Standing here isn't going to make that door open."
He started walking. A few seconds later, Aron followed him.
Their footsteps echoed throughout the ruined old hall.
Beneath Aron's sleeve, the ring gave off another faint blue pulse.
Far away, something moved inside the sealed courtyard.
Zekai suddenly stopped as if he had heard a voice. He could tell that it wasn't a sound coming from outside. It was echoing inside his mind.
It echoed again. *Use that card.*
His expression changed. He turned toward Aron. "Did you hear that too?"
Aron furrowed his brows. "Hear what?"
"...Nothing."
The voice hadn't come through his ears. It had appeared inside his mind, moving through his thoughts without permission.
*Or you'll die.*
A faint red layer spread across his vision. The screen suddenly appeared, as if it had already been waiting.
[ OBSERVATION — ACTIVE ]
Subject: Zekai Krystan
State: Unaligned
[ External Influence Detected ]
Source: Unknown Intent: Unknown
[ Anomaly — Pending ]
His throat went dry. He placed a hand on his head. "...Again? Why does this keep happening to me?"
He raised his hand and tried to touch the screen.
Aron's concern grew. "Mr. Zekai?"
"Can you see anything?"
He pointed at the red panel.
Aron looked at the empty air between them. "What do you see?"
Zekai held out his hand. "This."
"There's nothing there."
Zekai lowered his hand. "Of course."
Whatever this light, voice, and screen were, only he could see them. Whatever it was, it showed no interest in Aron for now.
The screen flickered.
[ External Input Detected ]
Directive: Present
A line seeped across it.
*You've been carrying it with you all this time... and you're still pretending you have a choice?*
His face remained calm, but his fingers tightened around the box inside his pocket.
The screen faded. He stared into the dark hall stretching out before him. Inside his coat, the Tarot cards were growing warm against his ribs.
Crack.
Somewhere behind them, a sharp sound shattered the silence. Dust fell from the broken ceiling.
Something had moved. Aron spun around. "Mr. Zekai..." His voice trembled. "There's something behind us."
Zekai closed his eyes for a moment. He slowly exhaled. "...What a nuisance."
But something else bothered him far more. It felt as though this place had already written the ending. And now, it was simply asking him whether he would accept it.
Zekai opened his eyes. Darkness stretched ahead through the ruined palace. Behind them, within the darkness they had already passed through, something was waiting.
The Tarot deck against his chest continued to grow warmer.
✦ End of Chapter 4 — The Rules of the Chosen ✦