[Zareths POV]
Click.
The door creaked open without a knock. Unusual… but not unexpected.
I looked up.
And froze.
The figure that entered moved with the ease of a shadow, his black cloak whispering over the stone floor like it was part of him. He didn't speak, didn't nod, didn't offer the usual courteous greeting.
He never did.
"…What are you doing here?" I asked, straightening slowly in my chair.
The figure reached into his cloak, pulled out a folded piece of parchment, and tossed it onto my desk.
Thump.
"I accept the assignment," he said flatly. His voice was smooth—controlled, low, but sharp enough to cut through steel.
I raised an eyebrow. "You? You're accepting a tutoring role? At a school?" I leaned back slightly, suspicious. "…Dark Raven."
He reached up, lowered his hood, and locked eyes with me—cold, silver-grey, shining faintly with the kind of weight that only comes from seeing far too much. The lower half of his face remained covered in a dark mask.
"I'm investigating something in the area," he said, his tone devoid of humour. "The academy's involved. Whether knowingly or not—I don't know. But someone there is either a target, or worse… a catalyst."
I frowned, the mood shifting sharply.
"…What exactly are you investigating?" I asked slowly, already fearing the answer.
His eyes narrowed slightly. "A cult."
I leaned forward, brows furrowed. "A cult? Who do they worship?"
Raven narrowed his eyes.
"They're worshiping… him. My old patron," he said.
I froze.
A chill crept down my spine as the implications hit.
"You're not serious," I said, voice hoarse.
He nodded slowly. "I am."
I fell back into my chair, the air suddenly heavier. My fingers curled against the armrests.
'No… not that one… not again. I nearly died removing him last time.'
"…You're absolutely certain?" I asked.
Raven crossed his arms. "As certain as I can be without tearing down the city."
I exhaled, trying to quiet the ringing in my ears.
'Of all the beings to return…'
"…Do you have any suspects?" I asked carefully, sitting forward again.
Before he could answer, a pulse of pressure rolled through the room.
Subtle. Quiet. But undeniable.
I felt it deep in my bones—like a thread of reality being pulled taut.
Raven's expression darkened instantly.
A pool of shadows coiled at his feet and surged upward, forming a blade as long as his arm.
The shadows vanished with a whumph, leaving behind a curved longsword in his hand.
His body shifted slightly. Not aggressive—but ready. Always ready.
I held up a hand.
"That's not necessary."
He didn't lower the blade.
"…Explain."
I kept my face neutral. "It's just something I have in containment. I relocated the entity here for further study."
Raven's eyes narrowed behind his mask. "Something that strong?"
I nodded. "Yes. A unique case. Normally, I wouldn't keep it so close… but someone with the ability to kill it recently appeared, so I brought it here so we can deal with it."
That was a lie.
It was Jack.
And frankly, he scares me more than any cults being of worship.
Raven stared at me for another moment before grunting and letting the shadows reclaim the sword. The weapon dissolved, slipping back into the floor like spilled ink.
"Fine," he muttered. "But don't let your toys bleed into my work."
I let out a breath. "I wouldn't dream of it."
He turned his back to me slightly, clearly still wary.
"So," he said. "You asked about suspects. I don't have a name. Yet. But I know what to look for. The cult leaves traces. Patterns."
I forced myself to think. Faces flashed through my mind. Students. Teachers. Officials.
Then, one face in particular stood out.
Brown hair, clever eyes, magic beyond the scope of mana.
I nodded slowly. "Good. But we're not heading to the academy for another two weeks. In the meantime, try reaching out to a student there. His name is Jackson Drovas. A first-year student, he may know a potential target or victim.
Also out of everyone at the academy currently, he is a potential S Rank and one of the few who might be of help with this."
But when I looked back at him, I could tell he only heard half of that.
"…What was that name?" he asked, voice quieter than before.
I frowned. "Jackson Drovas. Why?"
The room went still.
Raven didn't move for a full second.
Then he turned away completely.
"I need to go."
"Wait... Raven!" I shouted after him.
But he was already gone.
He vanished in a blink, shadows folding in on themselves with a soft shhhk as if he had never been there.
I stood slowly, moving to the doorway and looking down the hall.
Toward that door.
The one containing a boy who shouldn't be able to affect the world from where he was.
The one who just made the strongest shadow mage I know hesitated after just hearing his name.
"Just what are you, and how in the hell did your presence leak out of a sealed dimension?" I muttered.
No one answered.
Of course they didn't.
But something told me…
…I'd be getting an answer soon.
Whether I liked it or not.
~~~~~~~~~
Brakos POV
The silence in the Library was different today.
Not dead or empty—never that. The Library was *alive*, always humming softly with shifting shelves and whispering pages. But today… It was as if the air itself held its breath. Waiting.
I wandered the aisles, my steps soundless across marble that hadn't seen dust in millennia. Above me, the shelves went off into seemingly infinite.
I let my fingers drift across the spines of a few, but I passed them all, not in the mood for anything specific today, just something I hadn't read in a while.
That was until I felt a *pull*.
Not from curiosity. That was always with me. This was something else. A tug on the edge of my awareness—like the whisper of a page turning in a sealed room.
And then, I saw it.
A single book on a shelf that hadn't existed a moment before.
The cover shimmered silver, reflecting light that shouldn't exist in this plane. There was no title.
My eyebrows rose.
"Now, who tucked you here?" I murmured, internally laughing at the half joke.
I reached out, and the second my fingertips brushed the spine—*thrummm*—a pulse of recognition ran through me.
'Ah… so it's his.'
I lifted the book and opened it carefully.
The pages were blank for a moment… then glowed, runes shifting like oil across water.
Then it *formed*.
A vision, not a memory—alive, moving.
It was Jack.
He sat on a simple bed in a room carved from folded space, lit by nothing but his own presence and a faint magical lamp.
He was holding a blue book.
His face was calm, but his eyes. Wild, alight with raw discovery. Curiosity, excitement, potential discovery and joy interwoven all into one. The smile he wore was the one I had come to know long ago, and one I couldn't help but laugh at.
The book pulsed with him. A soul-bond deep enough to be mistaken for kinship.
I chuckled.
'So the seal has finally broken.'
Jack murmured something I couldn't hear. Then his eyes darted to the page—*my* page—and I swear, for a moment, he saw me.
I blinked, and the vision faded.
The pages returned to stillness.
I closed the book and returned it to the shelf.
"You're going to cause trouble, my friend," I said under my breath.
And then I started walking again, deeper into the aisle. No destination in mind. Just the rhythm of my thoughts.
'He's close. Closer than he knows. One awakening down… and the next will come faster. Violently, perhaps. But it will come.'
A shelf to my right shifted, rearranging itself.
I didn't stop it.
'And when it does, I'll be here. I'll watch. I'll *record*. And maybe, when the dust settles… I'll finally get to be surprised again.'
I chuckled.
The sound echoed across the endless corridor.
Then I kept walking.
~~~~~~~~~
[3rd Person POV]
[Location: Somewhere Underground]
The air was damp. Stale. Filled with the scent of iron, ash, and forgotten screams.
Torchlight flickered, but not from fire—no, these were burning cold. Green flame danced along rusted sconces, casting long shadows across walls carved from black stone. Deeper still… the true rot took hold.
Cells lined the halls.
Inside each: monsters. Failed experiments. Things that should not think—but did.
A limbless drake stared through bloodshot eyes. A slime creature clung to a shattered mirror, whispering in an ancient tongue. A chimera with a human head pressed its hands against the bars, watching.
And beyond them all, at the very heart of this foul maze, was a room.
Not a cell. Not a lab.
A sanctuary.
The floor was marked with sigils written in blood—still fresh, still pulsing. A circle of bone and ash. And in the center…
A figure.
Cloaked.
Their face was hidden by a hood of deep crimson, stitched with silver threads that hurt the eyes when stared at too long.
They were kneeling, head bowed, as if in prayer.
And when they spoke, their voice echoed throughout the room.
"Soon," they whispered. Distorted. Warped. But relevant. "Soon our lord shall return."
They looked up.
Their face remained hidden in shadow, but something underneath shifted.
A smile.
"Our empire shall rise from the bones of the accursed academy."
They began to laugh. Slow. Quiet.
More cloaked figures entered the chamber—one by one, they circled the blood-marked floor.
Another stepped close, bowing low.
They leaned in and whispered.
The leader stilled.
"…You are certain?"
The subordinate nodded.
The leader placed a hand on their chin, thoughtful.
"I had suspected… but now I know. The vessel has been found. Not awakened… not fully. But touched. Claimed."
They stood.
Tall. Inhumanly so.
"But someone… something… is interfering."
The room grew colder.
Their voice dropped.
"They are slowing the influence. Binding it. Halting our lord's voice."
The cultists shifted nervously.
One asked, "What should we do?"
The leader raised a hand slowly.
Then pointed toward them.
"We shall wait and watch for now. Our lord will not let this hindrance delay their grand emergence."
Excited whispers broke out.
The leader raised a hand.
The circle went silent.
"Watch and observe. If he calls for us, we will obey, but until then, we wait and pray," the leader said
Then, one by one, the cultists dropped to their knees.
They began to chant.
Low and slow, in a tongue that was long millennia ago.
Words that twisted in the air, that made the stones cry as they were spoken.
A prayer of revelation.
A promise of loyalty.
The beginning of an empire and the fall of the userpers.