Chapter 134
A clue
Raj... Raj... Raj...
The name echoed through IAM's mind like the low toll of a bell underwater. As soon as he saw it—just a name scribbled on a simple, half-bent bookmark—everything inside him seemed to pause.
And then, without warning, the dam broke. Memories came flooding through, crashing against the fragile walls he had built around them. The past surged forward, bringing with it blurry images
Not just one or two. A thousand moments. A hundred different fragments of days they had spent together. The way his words, even when casual or tired, always seemed to hold wisdom and advice in them, something IAM didn't realise he needed until much later.
There were days IAM would visit workspace, tucked into a corner of the Hold, to escape. Just for a while.
They'd talk sometimes. Sometimes they wouldn't. Sometimes Raj would just be humming to himself, fixing something that didn't need fixing, while IAM sat on the bench and stared at the ground, saying nothing. And that had been enough.
More than enough.
Raj had felt like an older brother to IAM. Someone he could trust. Someone he could confide in. Someone who never made him feel like a burden.
Someone you could rely on.
Someone who never asked for anything, but gave you exactly what you needed.
And now... he was gone.
Dead.
Swallowed by the Hold, just like everyone else.
IAM hadn't even known when it had happened. He hadn't been there. He didn't get to hear Raj's last words, didn't get to see his last expression, didn't get to bury him or burn him or even say goodbye.
One day, Raj had simply… stopped existing.
A ball of grief began to form in IAM's chest. It was cold and sticky, it clung to his heart like tar.
IAM sat still, feeling it latch onto him like mold on a wall, curling its invisible tendrils around his ribs, his heart, his throat.
But he also felt something else.
He could get rid of it.
He could end it, erase it until there was nothing left. It was strange how easily he could do that. Even though it had once terrified him, now it was just another function—another unnatural feature of whatever he was.
He could make it vanish. Like it had never been there.
That's why he said he didn't feel human.
Humans couldn't control their grief.
Humans didn't erase their feelings like scrubbing away dirt.
But IAM could.
He had that power.
And yet… he chose not to.
He let it rise. He let it claw through his body, crawling through his blood like barbed wire. He let it tighten around his eyes, scratching his tear ducts raw, but he refused to blink.
Refused to let it fall.
He let it be.
"IAM, what is it? You've gone quiet… is there something on the bookmark?" Reuel's voice came in, concerned but tentative.
IAM didn't answer right away.
The grief climbed higher, like bile climbing his throat. It choked him. It darkened his vision. It dimmed his hearing.
And then, just before it could overwhelm him—
He let it vanish.
Gone.
Just like that.
Pushed back deep inside, muted and buried beneath. There was no satisfaction in the act. Now just wasn't the time to collapse in his grief. That wouldn't bring Raj—or anyone—back. He had to keep moving forward. He couldn't let the past pull him back.
His fingers closed around the bookmark again, tighter this time.
Raj.
Of course he knew why the bookmark was here. Raj had mentioned it—how he'd studied at the academy a long time ago. So this was probably one of the last fragments of his presence here, one of the few lingering pieces left behind.
A silent mark that said: I existed. I was here.
IAM wondered why Raj never came back to finish this book. What had stopped him? What had taken him away so suddenly he couldn't even reclaim this small, meaningless object?
Or maybe… maybe it wasn't meaningless.
Maybe even in death, Raj had found a way to help him. Maybe this was his way of pointing IAM toward something important, something he couldn't say in person.
A dry, breathless chuckle slipped past IAM's lips, more sad than amused.
"Are you good?" Henry asked, brows slightly furrowed, glancing between IAM and the bookmark.
IAM finally spoke, voice low. "Yeah… I'm good. I just remembered someone."
He slipped the bookmark into his pocket like a keepsake, something fragile that he didn't want the world to see.
His eyes moved back to the book. A clue, he thought.
He flipped through the pages, one after the other. Most of it wasn't helpful. Just bits of lore, small scraps of history, half-finished theories. Things he already knew or couldn't make use of.
Eventually, he landed on a page describing a sanctum—Sacrificium Sanctum.
It meant a place of sacrifice.
A forbidden place, hidden deep within Durnark(the name of the country), where no one was allowed to go. The story spoke of strange sightings surrounding the structure, which citizens were strictly warned to avoid.
Some accounts described figures in hooded cloaks, loud rumbling noises, blood-curdling screams, and shouts of terror—along with people vanishing without a trace.
It had been feared even before the country's population disappeared, and now, it was most likely overrun by Deadline creatures.
There was a picture on the page. A reference sketch. The sanctum looked almost divine—made entirely of marble, enormous in scale, with arching towers and pale steps that seemed to glow even in ink. It didn't look like a place of death.
IAM stared at the image. A strange tingling spread through his body. Somehow, instinctively, he felt it—this was it. This was where he'd find a massive clue.
He set the book down, deep in thought. A place surrounded by such terrifying stories would obviously be unsafe. If he planned to visit it, he'd have to wait—until he was far stronger than he was now.
Besides, the area—and likely the entire country—was crawling with Deadline creatures. It would be a perilous journey.
The sanctum was also in an entirely different country, and realistically, he'd only have a chance to go there after graduating from the academy.
When he was stronger and better prepared for what the world might throw at him.
So, for now, he could only store it away in the back of his mind.
Still, he couldn't shake it off. The image of the marble building was burned into his thoughts, and with it came a whisper—like a string tied around his soul, gently tugging him forward. But temptation like that… it could be dangerous.
He leaned back and exhaled slowly.
Another concern lingered—For all he knew, this could be exactly what they wanted.
He hadn't forgotten—not for a second—that something had brought him back. Some unseen force had pulled him from death and tossed him into this second life without explanation or warning. And if that force had plans for him... then maybe it was guiding him, little by little, toward some end he couldn't see yet.
And what happened once he reached that end?
If this sanctum was part of their plan… then he'd need to be cautious. Because the moment he fulfilled whatever purpose they had for him—
Would be the moment he was discarded.
He had to stay sharp and alert. He had been given a second chance at life, and he wasn't planning on dying anytime soon.