CHAPTER 6
Beyond the reach of the known world lies a place spoken of only in whispers.
An ancient archaeological site—sacred, elusive, and lost to time. For generations, countless archaeologists sought it, yet none succeeded. To some, it was nothing more than myth. To others, a forgotten legend distorted by time. Very little was truly known, save for fragmented tales passed down orally across centuries, each retelling further diluting the truth.
That site would come to be known as The Great Tombs of Constelli.
It was believed to have existed at the dawn of civilization itself, though neither its true nature nor its location was ever recorded in history. What few details survived were deliberately obscured. The truth of the Great Tombs' existence—and its whereabouts—was guarded by an elite few who called themselves The Order of Exodus.
They fancied themselves the eternal custodians of the Great Tombs of Constelli.
The Order of Exodus was an elite and powerful sect of anarchists—radical in ideology and absolute in conviction. They rejected the authority of the Church and its doctrines, challenged the dominion of the heavens themselves, and sought the collapse of every hierarchical system constructed by mankind.
They preached absolute freedom.
Yet in bitter irony, such freedom could only be attained through initiation into the Order.
Every member of the Order served a single master—an entity known by many titles:
The Ascended One.
The Mortal Exalted by Gods.
The Godfather.
An unfathomably powerful being who granted supernatural abilities to each of his followers. In return, he held their fates in his grasp. A man who sought not only to rival divinity—but to redefine it.
The Order's members were scattered across nations and continents, carrying out their assigned duties in the Godfather's name. Each task, no matter how insignificant it seemed, contributed to a singular objective: preparing the world for the resurrection of the Godfather's instruments.
All of it led back to the Great Tombs of Constelli.
Among the Order's ranks was a man whose role proved crucial.
Dr. Richard Hemsworth.
An accomplished archaeologist by day—and a devoted scholar of forbidden knowledge by night. Alongside other learned members of the Order, Hemsworth spent the greater part of his life secretly exploring, deciphering, and translating the ancient manuscripts recovered from within the Great Tombs.
While the world knew him for his archaeological expeditions, his true work remained hidden.
The manuscripts told a story older than recorded history.
A myth of six individuals who once walked the earth at the dawn of civilization—beings worshipped as gods.
They were known as The Black Scorpions.
The Black Scorpions were a cult of six, represented by a geometric symbol known as the Hexagon—a shape signifying balance, unity, and harmony. They moved as one body and one mind.
As one is all, and all is one.
They had uncovered the universal truth of godhood. They waged wars that reshaped the world, leaving behind ruined civilizations and fallen nations. An unstoppable force that halted humanity's natural evolution into something greater.
They were the greatest threat humanity had ever faced.
A power beyond control.
A force so absolute that not even the heavens could suppress it.
For millennia, they shaped humanity and its civilizations according to their own ideals. Then—without warning—they vanished.
Lost to history.
The only evidence of their existence was a tomb believed to mark their final resting place. What truly became of them remained uncertain. They were widely regarded as immortals, rumored to have lived for over a thousand years.
Death, it seemed, should not have claimed them.
In the present age, the Order of Exodus had reached the final stage of its design.
Through meticulous planning and unwavering devotion, they prepared to resurrect The Black Scorpions—to unleash them upon the world once more and further the Godfather's cause.
But resurrection was no simple feat.
Strict requirements had to be met.
Ancient conditions fulfilled.
And so…
[AT THE FOSTER HOME…]
Night had fallen.
The clear sky shimmered beneath the full moon, its pale glow softly illuminating the large building below. Within its walls lived eighteen orphaned children—bound together as a family for over a decade.
Among them, the Six were the eldest. They had been the first brought into the foster home many years ago, long before the others arrived.
It was nearly bedtime.
The twelve younger children had already gone to sleep, tucked away in their rooms after the usual routine. The foster parents—four early middle-aged women dressed in traditional maid uniforms—made their regular rounds, quietly checking on the children before calling it a night.
The Six were different.
They were afforded more privacy and did not require the same nightly supervision. Even now, they remained awake, gathered in their room, tending to the soreness that plagued their bodies after their encounter with the Iron Lady. Stretching stiff limbs, applying mild pressure to bruised muscles, they worked through the lingering pain together.
Despite the aches, their spirits were high.
They laughed as they reminisced about the fight—replaying moments of triumph and embarrassment alike while making their beds. What began as casual banter quickly escalated into uproarious laughter, echoing throughout the room as they comically tore into one another's mistakes and flaws during the battle.
All except one.
Norma had already climbed onto the top bunk and lay quietly on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He seemed distant, detached from the chaos below. Something weighed on his mind, and after a long moment, he finally spoke.
[Norma]— "Say, guys… don't you ever get the feeling that Big Sis Evelyn hasn't told us everything?"
He hesitated.
"I just… can't shake the feeling that she's hiding something."
The laughter faltered.
Voices trailed off. Movements slowed.
Within seconds, the room fell into complete silence.
It felt as though Norma had struck a nerve—but not because his words were unwelcome. Rather, the sudden quiet was an unspoken admission. Each of them shared the same suspicion.
Orion was the first to speak.
[Orion]— "Should I assume we all feel the same way?"
He glanced around the room, already knowing the answer.
[Lupus]— (to Norma and Orion)"I won't deny it—I've felt that way too."
He exhaled slowly.
"But what do you want us to do about it? Ask her to spill her secrets over a cup of hot coffee?"
His expression hardened.
"And besides… she's dangerous. If we start poking into her private life now, we'd have our heads rolling before we even get the chance to explain."
[Draco]— (smirking)"Nah. I highly doubt she'd do something like that."
[Lupus]—(irritated)"Oh? And what makes you so sure?"
[Draco]—"Come on, Lu—think about it. Why would she kill us over something so trivial?"
He shrugged.
"After all the work she's put into training us over the years, the worst she'd do is give us one of her usual harsh punishments."
His smirk softened slightly.
"She might not look it, but I believe she's got some redeeming qualities."
He gestured toward the others.
"Don't you guys agree?"
The response was… less than encouraging.
Awkward coughs filled the air. Someone scratched an itch that didn't exist. Another looked away entirely.
It was a collective, silent disagreement.
[Lupus]— (to Draco, voice sharp)"So what you're suggesting is that we pry into her private life, and if we get caught, we just hope she lets us off easy? Is that it?"
He scoffed.
"And just when I thought you couldn't get any dumber, you somehow keep breaking that milestone. I genuinely wonder how you do it."
[Draco]— (grinning, unfazed)"Oh, Lu, you flatter me."
He placed a hand over his chest dramatically.
"Please, wonder no further. It should excite you to know you're the source of my inspiration—down to every atom of stupidity I possess."
His tone shifted, enthusiasm creeping in.
"All jokes aside, we need to start asking the right questions. And we need answers. It doesn't matter if we have to spy on her to get them."
His eyes hardened.
"And if push comes to shove… then we fight."
Lupus shook his head slowly.
[Lupus]— "That's a lot of confidence coming from someone who got his ass handed to him by Big Sis during training today."
He smirked.
"If I recall correctly, you were out cold for most of the fight. Meanwhile, I was moving like a prodigy—while you were having a romantic moment with the floor."
Draco stiffened, irritation flashing across his face.
[Draco]—"Hey, Lu, don't push it."
He pointed accusingly.
"Everyone was scared to make the first move—but I took that risk."
He scoffed.
"And you could say my 'romantic moment' with the floor is what gave you your opening."
He turned away dismissively.
"Pfft. Idiot."
The others watched silently as the two went back and forth.
[Lupus]—"What did you just cal—"
[Norma]— (cutting in)"Draco is right."
He sat up slightly.
"We need answers."
Lupus turned toward him, expression hardening.
[Lupus]— "And answers to what, exactly?"
Across the room, Corvus and Cygnus sat on the floor, quietly playing chess. Corvus moved a piece before finally speaking.
[Corvus]—"...Maybe about the parcel."
His eyes never left the board.
"It contained several manuscripts—ancient parchments."
Cygnus followed, sliding a piece into position.
[Cygnus]— "And there were multiple translated versions of the text."
He paused.
"We've been deciphering them for over a month now."
[Lupus]— (confused) "Okay? And how does that have anything to do with Big Sis?"
Norma's gaze sharpened.
[Norma]—"You heard what Cygnus said—multiple translated versions."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Now tell me, Lupus… can you guess what language they were translated into?"
[Lupus]—"...And what language was it?"
Corvus finally looked up.
[Corvus]— "Latin."
A pause.
"And not just any Latin—cryptic Latin."
Lupus' eyes widened as realization crept in.
[Norma]—"Now answer this, Lupus. Do you know of any place that teaches cryptic Latin?"
[Orion]—(quietly)"Yes."
He glanced around the room.
"Right here. At this foster home."
Norma's voice dropped.
[Norma]—"What's the matter, Lupus? You're looking pale."
A faint smirk.
"Don't tell me it's starting to make sense."
[Lupus]— (disturbed)"Are you saying there's some kind of connection?"
[Norma]—"...Perhaps."
His eyes were cold, unwavering.
[Lupus]—"That still doesn't prove anything."
He forced a scoff.
"It could just be a coincidence. Other foster homes could teach Latin. Schools too."
He shook his head.
"I'm disappointed in you, Norma. I thought you were better than this."
Norma didn't flinch.
[Norma]—"If only your discontent could outmatch your naivety."
He exhaled.
"To validate my suspicions, I had Orion sneak out every night for the past month."
Orion nodded.
"He searched neighboring schools. Eleven of them."
A pause.
"None offered Latin—cryptic or otherwise."
[Orion]—"It's true. Same goes for other foster homes and orphanages I checked."
His voice lowered.
"No combat training. No hidden rooms. No cryptic Latin."
He hesitated.
"Everything we thought school was like outside this place… was wrong."
A beat.
"Maybe we really are different."
Norma turned back to Lupus.
[Norma]— "And if you're still in doubt, you'll find what Corvus and Cygnus uncovered next… very interesting."
He gestured.
"Go on."
[Corvus]—"The old man in the alley said the parcel contained his life's work."
He frowned.
"He deliberately translated the text into cryptic Latin—not ordinary Latin."
His gaze hardened.
"And somehow, it ended up with us."
[Cygnus]—"The translations were structured in a way that specifically caters to the knowledge we have."
A pause.
"Knowledge taught only here."
Draco's eyes widened.
[Draco]—"So that means—"
[Norma]—"Exactly what you're thinking."
His tone was firm.
"This is no longer coincidence."
A pause.
"And there's more."
[Cygnus]— "What we've deciphered so far reveals that the text is a manual."
He swallowed.
"An instruction guide."
[Orion]—"For what?"
[Corvus]—"A ritual."
[Lupus]— (shocked)"Did you just say a ritual?"
[Corvus]—"Yes."
He nodded grimly.
"A ritual that grants passage to a place called The Great Tombs of Constelli."
A breath.
"Those who complete it become incarnations of an ancient group known as The Black Scorpions."
[Lupus]—"That sounds like a fairy tale."
Norma stepped in.
[Norma]— "Here's the interesting part."
He paced slowly.
"The Black Scorpions were a group of six—powerful, ancient, and feared."
He raised a finger.
"The ritual lists very specific requirements."
[Draco]—"For those who want to take part?"
[Norma]—"Yes."
[Lupus]— "And what's so special about these requirements?"
[Norma]—"Six vessels."
The words landed heavily.
"Born on the same day, same month, same year. Under the same astrological sign. Bound by a blood pact."
A pause.
"One body. One mind."
Corvus added quietly:
[Corvus]—"There's a final requirement we still can't fully decipher."
He frowned.
"It mentions a sacrifice… the number twelve… and a full moon."
[Orion]—"Any idea what it means?"
[Corvus]— "No."
Then Draco spoke, sudden and intense.
[Draco]—"Guys… listen."
He stood slightly straighter.
"Do you remember when Big Sis made us swear a blood oath when we were younger?"
His voice trembled.
"She said it was to reinforce our brotherhood."
A pause.
"And the fact that we all share the same birthday…"
His eyes scanned the room.
"What if it's not a coincidence?"
"What if we are the six vessels?"
Norma nodded slowly.
[Norma]—"Very good, Draco."
"You're starting to catch on."
Lupus stared at them, shaken.
[Lupus]—"You're saying… we're the six vessels?"
His voice cracked slightly.
"That doesn't— that doesn't make any sense."
[Norma]— (to Lupus, calm but firm)"You're right. It doesn't make sense."
He exhaled slowly.
"And that's exactly why we need answers."
He looked around the room.
"The six of us somehow meet the ritual's requirements. A ritual written in cryptic Latin—taught only here. In this foster home. And then there's the errand."
His eyes darkened.
"The vague errand that led us straight to the parcel."
A pause.
"I'm not pointing fingers… but I suspect Big Sister Evelyn."
Cygnus nodded slowly.
[Cygnus]— "I agree."
He hesitated, then spoke more quietly.
"But to what end?"
He looked down at his hands.
"I've noticed it for years—even when I pretended not to."
He glanced toward the door.
"We're different from the other kids. We've been trapped here our whole lives. Rarely allowed outside."
His jaw tightened.
"The constant training. The sores. Every single day since childhood."
A beat.
"But the others don't train like we do."
He looked up.
"It made me wonder… what was the training really for?"
Corvus' voice followed, low and deliberate.
[Corvus]—"To gather six vessels that meet such precise conditions would require meticulous planning."
He clenched a fist.
"Planning so exact that failure wouldn't even be an option."
His gaze hardened.
"If we assume we are the six vessels…"
He swallowed.
"Then that would mean our entire lives—"
[Orion]— (cutting in, eyes wide)"—were a setup from the start."
The words hung in the air.
Lupus shook his head sharply.
[Lupus]— "No."
He stood up slightly.
"Like I said before—we are not the six vessels."
He scoffed.
"We can't start believing some made-up story written by a dead old man."
He gestured around the room.
"Yes, Big Sis acts suspicious. I won't deny that."
His voice hardened.
"But be reasonable. The timeline doesn't fit your conspiracy theories."
He looked at each of them.
"We have to be logical."
A pause.
"I know most of you don't like her—but we can't start throwing around accusations like this."
Before anyone could respond, Draco suddenly grabbed Lupus' head with both hands and gently rotated it side to side, inspecting it.
[Draco]— (mockingly serious)"Let's see here…"
He squinted.
"I'm really hoping there's still something inside this plastic waste you call a head."
He gave it a mild shake.
"It's a miracle you've survived this long."
He smirked.
"I'd suggest staying away from productive conversations—we don't want your last two brain cells evaporating from overthinking."
Laughter broke out across the room.
Everyone laughed—
Everyone except Lupus.
Draco released him and turned around.
[Draco]— "Hey, why don't we—"
—Shhhhhhh.
Orion stiffened instantly.
[Orion]— (whispering)"Everyone be quiet."
His eyes narrowed.
"Someone's coming."
Silence swallowed the room.
Soft—measured—footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Slow.
Deliberate.
They stopped right outside the door.
The six stared at it, breath held.
The door creaked open—just slightly.
Then slowly…
It opened wider.
And whoever stood on the other side was about to step in.