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Chapter 1 - 1 - The Book of the Beginning

Azad is a twenty-one-year-old young man. Since childhood, he has spent most of his time in libraries—not because he actually lives in them, but because he's there so often that people think he does.

He isn't fond of poetry, but he has a deep appreciation for literature that explores the human condition—especially the kind that tries to make sense of the world's current state and the awakened beliefs of the dead.

The world of Vaticanus met its end five hundred years ago, as most of humanity perished when the Vaticanus Gate to the underworld was opened. Only a few survived, and from their remnants rose the Great Unified Republic, uniting all that remained of mankind. Yet the nightmare did not end—it haunted the generations that followed, even after the fall of the first world. Five hundred years ago, entities known as the Embodied Beliefs began to appear, manifestations of humanity's most primal fears, waging war against mankind. In response, humanity stood behind its first and greatest shield: the Supreme Authority, defending their society from these incarnate horrors that threaten total human extinction.

This was a summary of what Azad had learned from studying the historical books available, which detail the history of the world of Vaticanus and the terrifying events humanity has faced. Although these books do not cover all historical events, the gateway to history can be unlocked with simple keys.

In the end, those who lack knowledge of history do not know where they stand in the present, nor where they are headed in the future.

Azad entered the Second Wilford Library, a venerable institution built upon the ruins of the original, now referred to as the First Wilford. Its destruction had been caused by an embodied belief—an event that led to the death and obliteration of everyone within. The incident shook the surrounding population and took place exactly one hundred years ago. Fortunately, most of the ancient books, written in ink of gold, survived unscathed. They became a cornerstone for the advancement of knowledge and social life, serving as the only path through which humanity could come to understand itself in a world threatened by embodied beliefs.

The library stood in a grand square, surrounded by gardens of meticulously arranged and sculpted springtime beauty. Azad stood tall at one meter and eighty-nine centimeters, clad in a fine black woolen coat with dark green undertones. A lightweight, circular hat rested atop his medium-length hair. His face was pale and stern, and he wore black shoes that made barely a sound—chosen so as not to disturb the other patrons during his frequent visits, for he often moved about, reading from various shelves.

Rarely did he finish the books he opened, as many contradicted the core of his beliefs—something perilous in this era. The age of awakened beliefs had compelled the government of the Second Seat to rewrite its Supreme Constitution, along with the secondary constitutions of the five states of the Unified Great Republic. Naturally, the state of Yadar, where Azad lived, was the first to undergo constitutional changes, aimed at easing governmental oppression and pressure.

Yet freedom remained relative, never absolute—and Azad knew this well. He kept his beliefs hidden from the intrusions of others, even from those once closest to him. But they were no longer part of this world, having been taken by one of the embodied beliefs.

After entering, he passed by the receptionist sitting at her desk, which was fixed to the wall just to the right of the entrance gate. Mrs. Alicia, with her white hair and surprisingly youthful appearance—even though she had turned sixty just two days ago—looked up.

"Happy birthday, young lady," He said in his deep, slightly rough voice, teasing as he showed her his new membership card. He hadn't paid last month's fee and had been expelled, but had now paid for the current month.

While reading the newspaper, she glanced at him over her glasses, which were perched slightly askew on her nose, and said with a sideways look, "Return the books to their places when you're done with them, Azad."

"Alright, alright." He ventured deeper into the library, with its distinctive architectural design that undoubtedly makes it one of the greatest libraries not only in the state of Yadar, but in the entire republic. Each circular floor is segmented by shelves that stretch like slanted train tracks, winding in a serpentine fashion, with intricately carved tables and chairs. Gaps between the seats allow visitors to sit and move through the shelves that fill every corner of the massive library.

Azad's favorite place was the fifth floor — the highest level in the library and the quietest. While all the corners and floors of the library were peaceful, the fifth floor was almost always empty, which gave him a comforting sense of freedom as he moved and read.

He placed his hand on a vast shelf that seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions and began to run his fingers along it, his eyes closed.

"I rarely do this, but I love it. Picking books at random sparks a sense of curiosity in me — what kind of book will I end up with... this one... this... this."

He pulled out a thick, hard-covered book, its weight matching its massive size. His expression wasn't exactly cheerful.

"Human Immortality! Hmm, not a bad title, though rather common. But since I chose it, I have to read it. Even though I dislike topics on immortality, I make myself do whatever my soul resists—to test myself and avoid surrendering to whims."

He sat alone at one of the long tables, surrounded by complete silence. He rested his feet on the table and began to read.

"This book was written in the year 250 Solar? Well, I do enjoy old perspectives through a historical lens."

Just as he settled quietly and was about to turn the first page, a man came up the stairs, visibly anxious—a young man, mature-looking, with messy, damp hair, glancing over his shoulder with clear unease. His steps were swift yet quiet, as though he didn't want to draw any attention.

Azad, seated at a table behind the shelf that blocked the staircase from view, observed him silently.

The man, holding a book, moved between the shelves on the far side—out of Azad's sight—though he's eyes continued to follow him.

"What's he so nervous about?"

He hid the book among the books on the shelf where Azad had taken his book, and there was a gap between the books through which one could see — if the man had only looked carefully, he would have seen Azad. But because he was so tense and his eyes were fixed on the stairs he had come down from, he carefully concealed the book among several others. Azad was watching everything unfold.

The man left, descending the stairs, while Azad looked at the book he had hidden. "He didn't notice my presence!"

It was not Azad's habit to spy.

He was not a shameless person, but the way the man kept his secret—his tension and fear of being seen hiding the book—increased Azad's curiosity. His eyes kept shifting between the book he was reading and the one the man had hidden. Finally, after glancing right and left, he made up his mind and cautiously got up to approach the shelf where the book was placed.

He stood in front of the shelf, gazing thoughtfully at the book. With complete calm, he took it out, placed it on the table, and rested both hands under his chin as he stared at it.

"The Book of the Beginning!... What a strange name. But why is there no author's name?"

Azad glanced at the massive gate below—the man was nearing it, about to leave. Confidently, he opened the book, only to find the first page blank, tinted with a shade of green.

On the second page, there was a drawing that resembled a hand—just the fingerprints and a circular outline of the palm.

The text was written in runic letters, a language Azad didn't particularly like, though he had studied it during his high school years.

"Warning! If you are not capable of enduring what will be set into motion by touching this book, close it now and return it to its place. Do not touch it again. This book will open a door in your life... one that will never close—not even after your death."

"Is the author obsessed with horror stories or something!"

Though he seemed indifferent, it couldn't be said he felt no sense of dread from the warning written there—but Azad simply didn't believe it.

He placed his right hand precisely over the outlined palm and fingerprints, and for a long moment, nothing happened.

"What a deceptive warning," he muttered.

But as he tried to lift his hand, he found he couldn't. His expression shifted.

"Damn it… my hand's stuck to something."

It wasn't truly stuck—more like an invisible force was pulling it downward. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't lift it.

He stood abruptly and gripped his right wrist with his left hand. Though his left hand lacked the strength of the right, he struggled with all his might, trying to free himself—trying not to scream, afraid to draw attention.

But it wasn't just his hand. The book itself was fused to the table, like a slab of carved stone, utterly immovable.

"Damn it… if only I'd taken the warning seriously and never touched this cursed book."

His words carried a deep sense of regret, but it was too late. A brilliant light burst from the book as time began to slow. Whispers of hundreds of voices, each with a distinct tone, filled the air, triggering a wave of intense dizziness in Azad's mind, already strained by tension.

The world drained of color, fading into black and white. Time slowed further—until it stopped completely. And then, the whispers disappeared.

*The Book of the Beginning from the Master of the End — the will of the Untouched has surpassed all boundaries. Welcome the gateway to the new world. Awaken, and show this world the will of your belief*

What is that sound!

Suddenly and without any warning, he fell backward onto the shelf due to the force of pulling his right hand, which was unharmed except that his back and part of his head were slightly injured as a result of the fall.

"What exactly is happening?" He stood up and walked cautiously; everything in the library was completely still. He placed his hand on the iron railing and looked around in all directions. "Time has stopped; nothing is moving."

He rubbed his eyes and opened them, thinking he was hallucinating, but after opening them, everything remained as it was. "This is reality, not a hallucination!"

Just as he finished his words of astonishment, he heard a faint yet deeply gruff voice behind him. His instincts screamed at him not to turn around, but curiosity and fear compelled him to do so against his will. Behind him stood a black figure—something unlike anything he had ever seen in his life. He collapsed to the ground in terror, sweat streaming down his face. "What is that?!"

Its form was as black as shadow. The only features on its face were two sharp, glowing white eyes. No nose—just a mouth twisted into a wicked, heavy grin. It stood motionless, yet its presence struck terror into the very core of human instinct.

Amid Azad's rising tension and panic—and the utter silence caused by time having stopped—he caught the sound of footsteps entering the library.

The library wasn't empty, but the stillness made the sound of the shoes echo through every corner.

Azad turned to see two men dressed identically: white coats, black hats, and gray masks covering the upper halves of their faces—specifically their eyes and noses.

The one on the right was holding the severed head of the man who had just placed a book on the shelf, blood dripping onto the floor.

There eyes moved from side to side, and suddenly both men stared directly at Azad with a cold look that made it clear—they were here to harm him.

He got up and ran left, heading for the library's small back door, hoping to escape.

But as he fled, both men vanished in the blink of an eye—only to reappear: one in front of him, and the other by the book, staring at it."We're late."

Azad sprang to his feet in alarm at the state he had found himself in and asked the man standing before him, "Who are you?"

The man raised his hand in a friendly gesture, his non-hostile and confidently calm posture suggesting goodwill—as if neither he nor his companion noticed the dark beast standing motionless behind Azad.

He said, "Don't worry, we're not here to hurt you. But I need to know—did you touch that book?... Your answer will determine your fate."

That last sentence was spoken in a direct tone, and Azad understood that admitting he had touched the book would mean he wouldn't leave the library unharmed.

Without hesitation, he turned right toward the iron railing and leapt down to the fourth floor, leaving the man stunned—his expression revealing that he hadn't expected Azad to do something so sudden and reckless.

But before Azad could reach the fourth floor—which was only five meters below the fifth, a distance considerable for an ordinary person like him—he realized it was a mistake. But it was already too late. He had leapt from the fifth floor, plunging toward the fourth in a state of sheer panic. Regret meant nothing now—he was moments away from impact.

However, his right foot slipped and broke upon hitting the metal railing of the fourth-floor staircase. He was plummeting toward the lower level of the library when, suddenly, a kick struck him from the left—delivered by the other man who had been looking at the book. The force of the kick sent him crashing straight through five shelves on the third floor. His mind couldn't fully grasp what was happening—caught between consciousness and unconsciousness.

The kick was so powerful, it made him forget the pain of his broken right leg.

As the fog gathered at the edge of his vision, everything was bathed in the glow of the grand stained glass ceiling of the library, casting vibrant colors and patterns that mirrored its intricate design. He couldn't tell if it was a dream or reality — and lost consciousness before he could make sense of it.

*The essence of consciousness was lost to the embodied... seconds before the involuntary awakening.*

The same voice spoke again. Azad was violently pulled back into awareness, a surge of electricity striking his chest — he felt it even in the depths of unconsciousness.

At the moment he realized he had regained consciousness—as if he had died before—he noticed the fracture had suddenly vanished. But the two men gave him no chance; they were already above him, about to strike his head with their kicks.

Then, they felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere—a chilling air surged from behind him, like the very breath of death. It seeped into their bones.

They vanished and reappeared on a ledge behind Azad, their eyes fixed on the source of the cold: a terrifying black entity with white facial features—something they had never seen before, something they hadn't even sensed until that very moment, the moment they were about to kill Azad.

The same man who had struck Azad earlier pointed his finger directly at the dark entity and said,"Do you know what that is?"

From his tone, Azad understood it was a rhetorical question—as if the man already knew the answer but wanted to see if Azad himself recognized the nature of the being standing before them.

He replied, "No, and I don't know why it's here." His response was blunt, reflecting the confusion of the situation he was in.

The man added, "Just as we thought—you've manifested your belief and become one of the criminals who must be destroyed to protect humanity, no matter the cost."

From the man's words, Azad clearly understood what he meant by an Embodied Belief — in a world where humanity struggles to survive the wrath of these manifestations that arise after the death of their hosts. It was a strange idea to someone like him — an ordinary man, who, like everyone else, depended on the Republic's system for protection, believing it the best path to a dignified life. He knew well that embodied beliefs were humanity's greatest enemy.

But to become one of them? That was beyond anything he had ever imagined. His entire peaceful life would be lost. And amidst the rising panic, he whispered to himself:

"An embodied belief? But… I'm still alive?"

The embodied beliefs are entities that manifest from the dead, and I am a living human — what is this man talking about!

In the blink of an eye, the black entity rushed into Azad's body with furious speed.

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