The next morning, Luin woke before opening his eyes.
His body was tense, ready, as if something might move at any moment. There was no light in the room, yet he saw… as though his eyes were revealing another layer of reality.
The second seal had not fully opened, yet it was beginning to grow within him, like a shadow stretching under refracted light. Betrayal had not occurred yet, but he could feel it approaching, prowling like a wolf at the edge of the forest.
There was a knock at the door. Two light taps… then silence. Then a single, heavy knock.
Luin rose and opened the door.
A nobleman stood there, calm and steady. His features were refined, but there was no trace of arrogance. He wore a dark robe with faint golden trim, and on his chest was the emblem of House "Floraine," one of the city's old families whose presence was rare.
"I've been watching you," the nobleman said quietly. "I want you to work with me."
Luin did not answer, only stared with eyes that asked nothing.
The nobleman continued:"It's not only the church that maps the human soul. We know the seal, too, and we know how to nurture it."
He paused, then said something Luin did not expect:"My brother… died because of me. I am searching for someone who resembles him."
Words like these were said only to foreshadow something heavier. Luin… felt betrayal drawing near.
He followed the nobleman in silence. In the back alleys, in an abandoned inn behind the city wall, Luin saw his first ritual chamber outside the church's control.
The candles did not burn—they seemed to bleed.
The symbols on the walls were not sacred—they were so ancient that even sanctity dared not approach.
"Here… you will learn to protect yourself from the church," the nobleman said. "But you must follow me without question. At least… until your mirror opens."
Luin looked at him, questioning silently:Is this the first hand?
But a voice within said:"Every hand extended to you is born to drag you down."
The air in the room was still, as if time itself feared movement.
Luin stood before the black mirror, its surface matte, swallowing rather than reflecting. The nobleman stood behind him, hands clasped behind his back, watching silently, as though no explanation was needed.
"Look…" the nobleman whispered, low as in an abandoned church."But do not expect to see yourself."
Luin looked—and saw.
At first, just static. Then… eyes.
Not his, nor the nobleman's. Many eyes opening and closing in places where no faces could exist.
Then he heard a voice.
But it was not in his ears—it was in his skin.
"You are not him, but you will become.""The seal waits, but it will not be given.""No betrayal… no birth."
A faint scream rose in his chest, yet did not reach his lips. Something was being pulled from within him, untouched from the outside.
Luin stepped back two paces, gasping, sweat on his brow cold as blood-soaked ice.
"Everyone who has looked into the mirror… has changed," said the nobleman.
"Why are you doing this?" Luin asked, his voice hoarse.
The nobleman turned to the wall without looking at him:"Because I want to open my final seal… and I need a true mirror to see myself."
That night, Luin could not sleep. He sat on the narrow bed in the nobleman's inn, the mirror wrapped in black cloth in the corner, as if listening.
Something began to stir inside his chest. The second seal had not opened, yet it was knocking… every night.
And for the first time in a long while, Luin was not afraid of the knocks.
He… was waiting for them.
A sleepless night, not from exhaustion, but from anticipation.
Luin sat stiffly, back against the wall, hands gripping his legs as though restraining an inner surge. A strange glow burned in his eyes—not madness, but the moment just before it: clarity.
In the corner, remnants of the nobleman's ritual remained. Ash formed forbidden psychological symbols on the floor, one trembling each time his eyes passed over it.
"Seals will only open when you lie to your own soul," the nobleman had said last night.
But Luin was not lying.He was lost.And that was worse.
At dawn, someone new knocked.A thin man with a rectangular face and meticulously trimmed beard.
"Mr. Mer?"His voice was soft, suspiciously so.
Luin said nothing.
The man took something from his coat—not a weapon, but a letter sealed with a metal emblem he had never seen: a broken eye looking over a burning hill.
"An invitation—from the 'Council of Dust.'"
Luin took it.
"They want you to witness the nobleman's greatest ritual… he will open his sixth seal."
The nobleman stood beneath a vaulted ceiling in a circular stone hall. Around him, nine masked figures held small mirrors, their faces expressionless.
Luin watched from the shadows.
The nobleman spoke quietly:"I have crossed the limits of the body. And now, I cross the limits of vision."
He stabbed the mirror with a bone dagger.
But the mirror did not shatter.It bled.
Something emerged between the glass and the blood. Not light… but an image. Not of the nobleman—but of Luin.
Luin who had not yet been born.
A voice exploded inside his head:"The second seal waits… but you have not betrayed yet."
And then he understood.Betrayal would not come from outside.But from within.
After the ritual, Luin returned alone.At night, he wrote on a single sheet of paper, without knowing why:
"I betrayed myself when I believed I was nothing."
The next day…he awoke to a strange sensation.As if a small door in his chest… had opened slightly.
Luin awoke to an unfamiliar feeling.It was not a vision, nor a nightmare—but a fissure.
Something inside him had cracked—not his body, not his soul—but the silent space between them. As if a small door had opened… and something hidden beneath began to stir.
His chest held an extra pulse, out of sync with his heart.With each beat, it felt as if someone was breathing from within him.
On the way to the market, everyone whispered the nobleman's name:"He opened his sixth seal,""He saw the future,""He saw blood walking on its own feet."
Luin did not care.For the first time, the stranger was not others… but himself.
Everything sharpened: sounds, smells, the movement of passersby.
Then… it stopped.
He saw himself as a child.The child he had rescued months ago from the surgeon's ritual.But he was not as he remembered.
His eyes were coal-black, staring at him unblinking.
"Luin… won't you ask who I am?"The child's voice was unnatural for one so young.
Luin stepped closer, but before he could speak…the child vanished.
Later, in the tavern where he often hid, a man sat beside him without asking.
An elegant man, voice cold:"I was summoned to follow you, but I chose to speak first."
"Who are you?" Luin asked.
"Just a mediator. Between you and something you cannot yet see."
He pulled from his pocket a black coin, engraved with a single phrase:"Betrayal comes only from those you trust."
That night, Luin could not sleep.
Everything around him was still, yet inside…it was loud.
The voice no longer whispered—it knocked, as if wanting to get out.
"The time approaches, Luin… and you will be forced to choose: betray, or be betrayed."
In the morning, he awoke with his hand bloody,as if he had clawed something into the wall.
He looked at what he had written unconsciously:
"The second seal does not open… it breaks."
In the back corner of the abandoned library, where dust hung heavier than air, Luin sat before a blank page.Yet his mind… was writing.
The information from the mediator spun inside him like iron loops closing slowly.
Betrayal…By whom?Who could betray him?And who had he trusted?Could it be that what would break… was not the seal, but himself?
Without warning, he heard footsteps.
Not human footsteps.
But familiar… like someone dragging something behind them.He turned slowly, expecting nothing clear… and saw it.
The masked man.Not of the church, nor shadow merchants.
From a third, unknown place.Only his eyes were visible, glowing dim blue behind the mask, as if absorbing light rather than reflecting it.
"In what moment does observation begin after opening?"The voice was not human.
Luin froze.
The man did not move.Then he raised a finger, pointing at Luin's chest.
"The second seal is not fully closed… only dormant. And disappointment awakens the dormant."
Then he vanished…Not walking or fading—but turning into a shadow on the wall… then gone.
Luin left the library, thoughts racing.
Yet he did not stray far.He found William waiting, unusually tense, his face devoid of calm.
"We were watching you," William said."Someone approached… tried to tamper with your seal, and it wasn't us."
Luin:"I saw him… he said the seal was dormant."
William:"If you believed that, it is awake now."
That evening, Luin was summoned to a small gathering by a new noble in the city.An unexpected invitation, signed by a noble named "Kasar Darmir."
A wealthy man, of a shadowy reputation.
William warned him against going.But Luin… did not want to flee.He wanted to see if the betrayal that would break the seal… would come from there.
The invitation was written not in ordinary ink, but in fine silver threads that shimmered in dim light.As if Kasar invited not with ink, but with suggestion.
Luin arrived at the gate late on purpose.He knew arriving mid-event would draw attention… and he wanted it.
The reception was strange.The guards did not ask his name.As if they had been expecting him.
Inside…the light was foggy, laughter toneless, food laid out but untouched.
Everything seemed coated in glass… even the faces.
Then Kasar appeared.
A man in his forties, overly refined, hair meticulously combed, with a smile that did not reach his eyes.
"Luin Mer… the new title of the unknown. I am pleased by your presence."
Luin did not smile."I did not expect the nobleman to know my full name."
Kasar laughed lightly, a false laugh:"When your name circulates in the inner circles… you are no longer unknown."
Within minutes, Luin realized the gathering was not for celebration… but observation.
Everyone in the room was playing a role:smiles painted on, dialogues rehearsed, eyes not lingering on him more than a moment… except Kasar's.
Later, the nobleman pulled Luin into a side room lit by a single candle:
"I know you think we are tools of the church… but some of us craft our own tools."
Then he extended his hand, holding a small box.
"A gift. Of a kind only given to those we fear."
Luin did not touch it.But merely approaching it… made the seal in his chest pulse.
A voice inside… not his, nor the entity's, but something else.
"Open it, and other things will close."
He stepped back."What do you want from me?"
Kasar smiled."Me? Nothing. But someone bet that you would only open the second seal through betrayal… I am here to prove otherwise."
Luin:"Does betrayal require consent?"
Kasar:"No. Knowledge… and survival suffice."
Then he left.
Leaving Luin with the box… and his heart, which now felt as if it were no longer his alone.
Luin did not open the box.But the box… was opening itself from within.
Everything inside began seeping into him, as if the symbols etched on it, the interlocking circles, were a key to a gate he had never known.
He stood alone, light dim, breaths slow, back against the wall.
A whisper inside… unlike any before, calm, sorrowful, as if remembering rather than commanding:
"This is what we feared, isn't it? To open something you did not close."
Luin pressed his temple.Dizziness intensified.Then he saw something.
A memory that was not his.
A child's hand holding the tail of a man's coat fleeing from a blinding light.The scene repeated… each time slightly different.But the child remained the same.
And each time, the hand was left in darkness.
Then everything stopped, and Kasar's voice came… internal, illogical:
"You are an old project, Luin. A mere outcome… not a choice."
He opened his eyes.The room was empty.The box… gone.
But he felt something in his chest had broken.
It was not only the second seal…but something deeper.
A kind of internal barrier that had kept him from drifting.
Now, nothing remained to restrain him.
He walked out of the room as if leaving his grave.
Faces that had been smiling minutes ago… were silent.
Laughter ceased.
Kasar did not appear.
But in the side corridors, whispers began spreading:
"He has changed.""He is no longer… as he was.""The seal… has opened."
Outside, the sky rained shards of light…strange, soft, yet warm against his skin.
Luin realized one thing:
The nobleman had not betrayed him.The nobleman had made him betray himself.
End of Chapter 26