**Thumb!** **Thumb!**
Another stack of books hit the desk, dust rising in lazy spirals.
*"Ugh… all junk."*
Arithmetic. Geology. History. Page after page of lifeless ink.
I shoved them aside, frustration scraping at my patience.
"Alright… next section—" My eyes paused.
A worn, leather-bound volume sat crooked on the shelf.
**Diary of a Revolutionary**.
The cover was cracked, the edges frayed. Inside, most of the pages were ripped or yellowed to near illegibility.
*"Fine… I'll just read what's left."*
---
**27 July, 1725**
*This marked the day the revolution came to an end. Five years to unite the three kingdoms. In that time, I met many people—most lunatics, but a rare few… brilliant beyond words.*
The rest of the entry was gone, swallowed by torn paper.
---
**12 December, 1755**
*I now know that mystery is nothing but a box made of dust. To see what it hides, the dust must be brushed away.
Alas… now I—*
*I regret it. I should have abandoned the search. If I had realized sooner… perhaps something could have been done.*
*I regret it. I should never have searched for @#\$\$%@#\$!!##\$#%5
!@#\$%%*
The final line was scrawled over, black ink slashed across it like someone had tried to erase the truth with rage.
---
Pain stabbed through my skull.
Hot. Deep. Unrelenting.
"Ghh—aaahhh…!"
My vision twisted, and a scene forced itself into my mind—sharp, vivid, undeniable.
A man's face. My face. No… the original Kaison's.
He was speaking. At first, the words were muffled, but then—
*I regret it… I should never have looked into it.*
*I thought I was close… but I didn't know he was watching.*
*It was a mistake… and now there's no hope.*
Kaison stumbled to his desk, yanking a stack of papers from a drawer—his research.
Without hesitation, he tossed them into the fire. The flames devoured them, the room glowing in flickering orange.
Then, from another drawer, he pulled a blank sheet. His hand trembled as he wrote:
*Never sail for the truth.*
*I brushed away only a fraction of the dust, and I am reduced to this.*
*Always remember—he is watching us.*
*Do not seek the mystery of "GACHIGAKADE."*
Folding the paper, he locked it inside his desk.
The vision shattered. My knees buckled, and I hit the floor, panting.
"…Gachigakade…" The word tasted like rust on my tongue.
Both the revolutionary and the original Kaison had regretted chasing it.
The revolutionary's regret was lost to torn pages… but Kaison's was clear as day.
And his death… No blood. No wounds. Just—gone.
Too many questions.
No answers.
---
**Thump!**
Footsteps approached, light and quick.
"Brother, are you still in the study room?"
Her voice was warm but carried a note of scolding.
"Even if your work is important, you should come out once in a while."
I blinked, shaking off the lingering haze of the vision. "I'm here, Amelia."
The door creaked open, revealing a girl with bright eyes and a faint frown—Kaison's little sister.
"Hmph, I knew it," she said, hands on her hips. "Like always, buried in your books. Do you even remember the last time you stepped outside? With that attitude, how will you ever take care of yourself?"
"…Sorry, Amelia."
"I'm supposed to be the one worrying about you, not the other way around," she muttered. Then, after a pause: "Have you eaten?"
"…No."
She sighed. "I'll cook something for you."
"You just got back from school. I'll cook instead."
She narrowed her eyes. "Since when do you know how to cook?"
I froze. "…Oh. Right."