Silarias and Nyx dashed across the wet, soggy moss. Their footsteps sounded muffled on the marshy ground, while the branches of the colossal oaks twisted above them like the arms of petrified giants. A suffocating scent of damp earth, ancient wood, and a strange, metallic magical charge hung heavy between the trunks. Every time their soles touched the ground, small sparks of purplish light erupted from the moss.
The glowing goat was already waiting at the edge of the deep cliff, its hooves planted on the very brink. Sparkling, silver-blue ether particles drifted slowly down around it.
There, overlooking the shimmering water where cyan-blue fish flashed like bolts of lightning, a towering stone statue rose from the earth. It depicted a blocky, grotesque, faceless figure holding a giant, warped mirror in two massive stone hands. The glass rippled constantly like liquid silver, and a sharp, purplish glow pulsed from its center, shrouding the entire cliff in a dark, mysterious haze.
The spiritual goat took a graceful leap, executed a pirouette in midair, and vanished through the mirror's surface with a soft popping sound.
Silarias and Nyx slid to a halt at the absolute edge of the abyss. Loose pebbles rolled from beneath their feet into the depths, their impact in the water below echoing a second later. Their chests rose and fell heavily.
Silarias leaned forward with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily through his nose.
*My muscles are already burning, my stomach is still half-clogged from those damned mine gases, and now we have to jump into a liquid mirror?* Silarias thought, wiping sweat from his forehead. *This isn't an academy anymore; this is a full-blown trial.*
He looked up at the colossal statue. "A mirror," he panted, tightening his gauntlets around his forearms. "In the middle of an underground forest floating somewhere beneath the university. If a talking dragon offers me a cup of tea in a second, I won't even bother answering."
Nyx glared at him. Her eyes were sharp, but her nostrils flared slightly from the tension. "Less whining, more moving, Sil," she snapped, though a faint quiver in her voice betrayed that she was just as stunned as he was. She grabbed him tightly by the collar of his leather jacket and dragged him forward. "We're going through before we lose that beast. No second-guessing now."
They stepped through the rippling mirror glass in unison.
The transition was bone-chilling. The air was squeezed out of their lungs in a fraction of a second. It felt as if their bodies were being dragged through a microscopic needle's eye. The space around them distorted into a raging vortex of purple light, fractured reflections of themselves, and a cutting, icy wind that howled past their ears.
FLASH!
Their feet slammed back onto a solid, cold surface with a hard thud.
The sudden silence following the howling wind was almost deafening. They stood on a narrow, rusty iron spiral staircase winding steeply down into a seemingly bottomless darkness. Damp droplets fell from the ceiling, tapping steadily on the metal steps.
Nyx rubbed her bare arms vigorously to ward off the goosebumps and looked around with a mix of pure frustration and deep bewilderment.
*What kind of bizarre place is this, for god's sake?* Nyx thought, trying to get her breathing under control. *Nothing about this academy matches the maps we were given.*
"Hold on a minute," Nyx said aloud, her voice echoing against the narrow rock walls. "Where have we actually been for the past ten minutes?! First that colossal library, then an elevator plunging into a Sulfide Mine, a whole forest with glowing fish, and now another staircase?!"
Silarias gripped the ice-cold handrail and peered down into the dark. "Don't ask me, my brain is completely spinning. It's like this entire university was built on top of seven different layers of ruins shoved together."
"Sil… look down there." Nyx pointed with a trembling finger.
At the bottom of the stairs, the glowing goat was kneeling. The creature sat with its front legs folded beneath it before a gigantic painting firmly embedded in the rock wall. Hanging over the gold-painted frame was a heavy, weathered cloth, completely sealed with dark, viscous magic. Runes of pure, pulsing shadow leaked like black ink over the edges of the canvas, slowly flowing down the wall.
Nyx stepped forward. Her eyes began to glow intensely with a blue light, and a confident, almost arrogant smirk appeared on her face.
"Haha, a shadow seal?" she said with disdain. "Easy. I'll strip that off in a second…"
The voice did not come from the corridor, nor did it come from the painting. It resonated directly from the space behind their own eardrums. It was a heavy, distorted echo that sounded like hundreds of distorted voices shouting simultaneously through a broken mirror, steeped in the soft, spine-chilling giggle of the entity.
Nyx's smirk froze on her face. The magical glow in her eyes died out instantly. Her arm remained suspended midair.
*That voice… it's the exact same magical resonance as the ancient texts…* she thought, a surge of pure paranoia shooting through her veins.
She snapped her head toward Silarias. Her face had turned pale, her voice trembling and barely audible. "Sil… could it be…? From nothing we rose, to the Unnamed we return…"
The moment those ancient words left her lips, the canvas reacted as if torn open by an invisible, giant claw.
FLASH!
A sharp, crimson-red slice cut straight through the black cloth. The cloth exploded with a dull, thundering bang, disintegrating into the air like a cloud of glistening red ash. The spiritual goat bowed its head all the way to the stone floor, kneeling in deep, trembling reverence.
Silarias and Nyx held their breath. The tension in the corridor was so razor-sharp that even the falling water droplets seemed to slow down. They stared intently at the revealed painting.
The canvas depicted a gigantic round table inside a dark, majestic hall. Initially, no living being was visible on the image; the chairs stood empty. But suddenly, a bright, blinding white light flashed from the canvas, casting the entire iron staircase into sharp contrast.
In that split second of the light flash, the image on the canvas transformed completely.
The hall in the painting was suddenly filled with a massive army of armored warriors. The clinking of hundreds of glasses raised in a toast seemed to ring physically through the stone corridor. Right at the absolute center of the crowd stood a man and a woman; the woman draped herself over the king's shoulders in an overtly dominant, protective manner. In the background, gigantic silhouettes of mythical beasts took shape, and above them towered the massive shadow of a three-headed creature.
And then… FLASH!
The flash died down, and the chilling quiet returned to the canvas. The round table in the picture was completely empty once more… except for a single figure.
It was the silhouette of a king, misshapen, warped, and gazing straight at Silarias and Nyx with a clear madness. He wore pitch-black armor that swallowed all surrounding light like a black hole. Behind his back, something resembling a massive, muscular tail with sharp scales curled onto the floor. But his face was an absolute void. Beneath the heavy, gleaming crown and high collar, nothing could be seen except a dark, fathomless emptiness.
Suddenly, the silhouette on the canvas moved. The heavy, echoing voice reverberated from the stone walls around them:
"THE UNNAMED KING GREETS YOU."
BOOM!
Deep, flashing cracks spontaneously fractured the stone walls surrounding the frame. A powerful shockwave displaced the air in the corridor, whipping the clothes of Silarias and Nyx tightly against their bodies. White and gold light particles flew in a wild storm before the cracks in the wall repaired themselves with a loud crunch in a fraction of a second.
With a heavy, grinding metallic sound, the colossal painting slid aside on its own, revealing a dark, wide stone hall.
Silarias looked at Nyx. He saw the doubt in her eyes, but he clenched his fist until the metal knuckles of his gauntlets creaked. "No turning back now. Let's go."
They stepped through the opening and walked into the wide hall, their boots rhythmically striking the stone floor. As they advanced, familiar, noisy voices rose from the depths ahead.
"…I swear on my ancestors, we just fell straight through the ground!" Vulkan's voice boomed with immense clamor. "First that cursed bookshelf sliding on its own, and then bam, a hundred-meter freefall!"
"It was not an ordinary trapdoor; it was a spatial transporter based on ancient runes," Aurelius corrected him in his cool, annoyingly measured tone.
"I actually found the descent quite refreshing," Jane remarked with a light, playful giggle. "A whirlwind like that really wakes you up."
"Can you guys never act normal for a single minute?! We are in an illegal catacomb!" Nicola snapped fiercely, cutting through the banter.
Silarias and Nyx emerged at the end of the stone hall and stepped into the gigantic chamber.
There stood Vulkan, Apollo, Jane, Aurelius, Nicola, and Faustus. They were locked in animated discussions, gesturing wildly about the bizarre ways they had been transported to this location.
Nicola turned around first and let out a deep sigh of relief. "Ah, finally! There you are! I thought you got stuck inside the walls somewhere."
Vulkan, looking half-wrecked with dust coating his shoulders but carrying an intensely excited look in his eyes, waved his arms wildly. "Silarias! Nyx! Look, man… this place is unbelievable!" He pointed frantically ahead, staring upward with wide eyes.
Silarias and Nyx looked up, their breath catching in their throats.
The hall towered dozens of meters high. They could look all the way up into a dark vault where thousands of floating magical lanterns drifted aimlessly through a seemingly endless void. Gold, purple, and silver light particles drifted through the air like a steady, calm blizzard of pure energy.
When they lowered their gaze back down, their jaws dropped.
At the absolute center of the hall, resting on the stone floor, stood a gigantic oak round table. Dozens of ornately carved chairs surrounded it, with two colossal thrones positioned directly opposite each other at the far ends. The floor around the table was deeply etched with intricate patterns, magical circles, and old scars from sword strikes. Hundreds of candles stood lined up in neat rows around the table, but their wicks were completely black and unlit.
SHIFT.
Suddenly, a dark figure moved at the furthest, shadowed edge of the hall. The figure seemed to teleport-shift from one shadow to another, as if the space between his steps was simply erased. With one final, fluid motion, the figure reached the far throne and calmly sat down.
PFFF-WOOSH!
The exact moment his black armor touched the seat, all hundreds of candles ignited simultaneously with a bright, purple-gold flame. A shockwave of light and warmth surged through the hall, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow.
The figure sat on his throne, crossed his arms, and nodded calmly to the group.
"Come sit… all of you…" the voice spoke. It was the same soundless, heavy echo they had heard before, resonating deep within the chest of everyone present.
Vulkan, Aurelius, Jane, Nicola, and Faustus exchanged glances, swallowed their rising questions, and slowly walked toward the round table. They took their places in the standard chairs surrounding it. Many seats remained empty, but the entire group turned their heads toward Silarias and Nyx, pointing to the second throne standing directly opposite the figure.
Silarias looked at Nyx. *This is it. Our place.* Nyx nodded firmly, her jaw set.
Together, they walked with calm, measured steps toward the throne and sat side by side, staring directly at the figure.
Everyone stared at the figure at the head of the table, but no one could discern a single feature of a face. His countenance remained an absolute void, hidden beneath the heavy, gleaming crown. A dark cloak draped over his shoulders like a night shadow, and behind his chair, a massive tail with sharp, black-metallic scales rested on the stone floor.
The faceless king slowly leaned forward, placed his gloved hands onto the oak wood of the table, and began to speak.
"I did not summon you for nothing…" His voice echoed deeply through the hall. "Your combined spiritual energy drew the attention of everything that lives and rests within this academy."
He paused for a moment. The flames of the hundreds of candles began to move in unison, bending to the rhythm of his breath.
"Long ago… in a previous era…" he began to explain, his gloves lightly tracing the wood. "There existed an Order. An Order that fought against the previous Vessel of the Corrupted King and his sinister essence."
Vulkan raised an eyebrow and shot Apollo a questioning look. Apollo merely shook his head slightly to keep him silent. Nicola and Aurelius listened with tense, rigid expressions.
"Yes, you heard correctly," the king continued undisturbed, his void-face turning slowly toward the entire group. "The Essence… his descendants… have founded their own schools and academies throughout the ages. Purely to recruit the worst, most derailed, and darkest individuals for their cause."
He gestured with his arms across the length of the massive table. "The old Order fought them to the absolute limit. In the end, the masters of the Order were scattered. Each taking a number of warriors per location, they were forced to establish their own universities to act as a counterweight against the encroaching darkness…"
PLOP.
The heavy, serious atmosphere was shattered instantly.
A squelching, wet sound echoed from the entrance of the hall.
A soaking-wet Miki came stomping into the room. She looked as though she had just been stuck in the deepest mud of a swamp for three hours; water dripped continuously from her clothes, and her hair hung over her face in dirty, black strands. With one hand, she dragged a half-drowned, twelve-year-old Ren by his ankle across the stone floor, his head thumping noisily against the tiles.
Miki stood still, her shoulders literally smoking with pure, pent-up rage, glaring at the entire round table with a deadly, icy stare.
SPIT!
With a furious expression, Miki spat a hard stream of water from her mouth, sending a small, struggling glowing fish clattering onto the stone floor with a dull splash. The fish flopped twice in desperation before lying still.
Silarias, Nyx, and the rest of the group stared at Miki and the thoroughly neglected Ren with wide eyes and open mouths. Vulkan had to cover his mouth with his hand to keep from bursting out laughing.
Miki clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white, snapping fiercely: "I don't want to hear a word about it. Not a single word. Seriously. Or I'll punch everyone here into the next dimension."
Without hesitating for a single second, she swung her leg back and kicked her wet, heavy boot straight into the stomach of twelve-year-old Ren, who was lying like a rag on the floor.
GULP-PUFF!
Ren spat out a cloud of water from his lungs, began coughing violently, and snapped back to consciousness soaking wet. He scrambled to his feet, rubbed his stomach in annoyance, and looked around bewildered at the gigantic hall and the occupied table.
"Mm… where do we sit?" Ren muttered dryly, wringing the excess water from his soaked sleeves as if he had just walked out of a classroom.
The faceless king on the throne was not bothered for a moment by the chaotic interruption. He rose slowly from his throne with chilling grace, his black cloak dragging heavily across the stone floor. He looked down at the two small figures.
The distorted, heavy echo of his voice immediately resonated through the hall once more, as if hundreds of shadows were speaking simultaneously from every corner:
"Sit, little legends…"
He raised his gloved hand. With a deep, grinding sound, two ornate stone chairs shot straight up from the floor, right into the empty space next to the round table.
"The canvas of history repeats itself," the Unnamed King continued, his void-face slowly scanning each member of the group, probing their souls. "The shadows of the past have awakened from their age-old slumber. What stands before you is not merely a piece of oak… it is the foundation of a new, unbreakable covenant."
He clenched his fist, and the dark armor around his chest began to glow brightly with purple and gold light.
"The schools of the Essence are gathering their forces in the deepest, forgotten layers of this world. They are secretly building an army that will tear these continents apart and reduce them to ash if we do not strike first. You did not end up at this university by accident. Your spiritual threads were woven together by fate centuries ago."
Silarias leaned far forward from his throne, his arms resting on the armrests and his hands tightly gripping his gauntlets.
*A war that has raged for centuries… and we're standing right in the middle of the chessboard,* Silarias realized.
"And what exactly do you expect from us now?" Silarias asked aloud, his voice steady and powerful. "Are we going to hide, or are we taking the fight to them?"
The king spread his arms wide as the hundreds of magical lanterns above them burned in unison, bathing the entire chamber in a divine storm of light.
"Every single one of you carries a key to the ancient, forgotten powers," said the Unnamed King, his voice swelling into a thundering symphony of echoes. "You will not leave these ruins as stray, ignorant students… but as the new Guardians of the Table. We shall begin the hunt for the bastions of the Essence before they extinguish the soul of this world forever!"