Kael instinctively looked back. The door they had come through—the wooden door they had just passed—was gone. In its place stretched a gray, smooth wall. The voice came closer:
"Do you hear me? This is an order! Open the door!"
Heavy blows began to rain down on the wall where the door had been. Each strike echoed from within the wall, pounding against Kael's chest. He took a deep breath. His heart felt like it was climbing into his throat. Liora, however, remained unfazed. She merely turned her head and whispered calmly:
"They... might be a Representation."
A cold shiver ran through Kael. It was as if merely hearing their name could draw them here.
Liora silently interlocked her fingers. The corridor twisted again, bent, and changed direction. As the shouting behind them grew muffled, the two crossed an invisible boundary.
For the first time in his life, Kael felt like he was inside a novel.
When Liora changed the direction of the corridor for the third time, her breath was slightly short. The tremble in her fingertips was almost imperceptible, but Kael noticed. He was walking with her, yet in truth, he was being led—by Liora's guidance, her magic… or whatever it was.
With another twist of the corridor, the stone floor rippled momentarily like water. As the gray stone walls curved to reveal a new path, Kael stopped. He gently held Liora's arm.
"I can go on," he said in a quiet but determined voice. "I can walk by myself now."
Liora raised her eyebrows slightly as she turned to him. There was a tired curiosity in her eyes. "Are you sure?" she asked softly.
Kael looked into her eyes and nodded. "Yes."
Liora paused for a few seconds, then released his arm. A faint but steady sense of balance emanated from Kael's body. The man who had been walking half-fainting just moments ago was gone.
Liora looked at him in surprise, parted her lips as if to speak, but then said nothing. Something stirred within her. Her eyes wandered across Kael's face.
"It hasn't even been a full day..." she whispered to herself. "Healing this fast... strange."
Kael continued walking as if he hadn't heard her. Or maybe he had, and simply chose silence. A kind of focus was within him—a deafening state of attention that drowned out everything external.
Liora turned her head and looked ahead. Her eyes focused on a point in the darkness.
"We're here," she finally said, her voice tired but peaceful.
Kael lifted his head. Before them stood an old door, dimly lit by the flickering reflections of weak lights. Its worn wood had cracked and darkened over time. The iron engravings upon it were rusted, but the door still looked sturdy. He didn't know what was beyond it, but he felt a slight weight in his chest.
Words hung in the air, as if even the stone walls of the room had heard and memorized them. Kael tried to make sense of what was being said, but the meaning of the words never quite came together in his mind. They were just sounds, part of some ritual.
At that moment, the door began to change.
At first, it was just a tremor—the texture of the wooden surface started to ripple like liquid. Then, it quietly turned metallic. The entire door transformed without a creak, undergoing an internal metamorphosis. The aged wood was replaced by dark iron, adorned with complex seals. The door opened slightly, as if pushed by an unseen force from within. A cold breath of air blew outward.
As Kael squinted to see, Liora suddenly turned and warned him:
"Quickly now. It will close again soon."
Kael hesitated for a moment, but then quickened his pace to catch up with Liora. As he passed through the door, the feeling that filled him wasn't just curiosity—a subtle unease settled beneath his throat. It felt like he was crossing a threshold, with no guarantee of return.
The moment he stepped through, the door silently reverted back to wood. He was inside now.
On the wall just inside the door, elegantly but clearly engraved letters read:
"Welcome to the Ater Veritas Base."
Kael instinctively took a step back. A strange unease filled him. "A secret society, huh..." he thought. "I hope it's not one of those cults with blood-splattered rituals."
But when he closed his eyes for a brief second and opened them again, the scene before him shattered every preconception in his mind.
It felt like he was inside a castle.
A high-ceilinged, stone-walled hall… but the atmosphere was neither dark like a dungeon nor heavy like a temple. Around the room were wide seating areas. People in black cloaks sat in small groups, speaking in low tones. Some were reading books, others were tinkering with strange devices. The room was quiet, but not oppressive; there was a deliberate calm.
The long black coats they wore were more than just uniforms. They seemed to symbolize the identities, allegiances, and even the pasts of these people. None wore rank insignias, but some were distinguished by old embroidery on their shoulders or colored linings on the inside of their cloaks.
Kael let his gaze drift over the crowd. Each one looked like a different story. There were humans among them… but some faces, though quite human-like, weren't entirely "human." A woman with pointed ears and cat-like glowing eyes; an old man with marble-pale skin who communicated without speaking, only through his gaze; and many more.
They were all there. Silent. Glancing at Kael from the corners of their eyes, but no one approached him directly. It was as if he were part of some trial, and they were weighing who he was. Would he be accepted? Watched?
As Kael walked among the black-cloaked crowd, his eyes wandered. He thought about the "different races" Liora had spoken of. Whispering, leaning slightly toward her, he asked:
"These… the ones you said were of different races… are they, for example, them?"
Kael's gaze had caught a group of beings who were half-cat, half-human. They had pointed ears, sleek but muscular bodies, gently curled tails, and shining feline eyes. Every movement hinted at agility and a predator's instinct.
Liora gave a small nod and answered softly:
"Yes. They're called Vaelkin. They possess far superior physical attributes than humans. Their speed, endurance, even their senses are nearly heightened. That's why they often see themselves as superior to humans."
As Kael listened to her explanation, a conflicted expression appeared on his face. The question "How could a cat and a human merge?" echoed in his mind. But such thoughts now seemed meaningless. Because here, so many strange and extraordinary things were happening—far beyond his comprehension. What was considered ordinary here anyway?
Still, he collected himself and continued silently behind Liora. From the corners of his eyes, he could feel the intense stares. It was as if every step was being judged and weighed by those around him.
Then suddenly, a man stepped out from the crowd and stood before them.
Young, handsome, and light-brown-haired. He wore a simple but elegant brown coat; underneath, a white, slightly wrinkled shirt and dark trousers… On his head sat a stylish, old-fashioned fedora. What stood out most were his eyes: they glowed with a warm, amber light.
Mark bowed his head slightly with a faint smile at the corners of his lips. His eyes were nearly closed, but there was a strange warmth in his gaze, almost as if saying "How are you?" A greeting, yet carrying a peculiar intimacy. Neither too distant, nor too close. Kael found it hard to read this man's intentions.
Liora, however, didn't return the smile. Her eyes fixed on Mark's face, and she spoke without softening the tone of her voice:
"Mark, now's not the time for jokes. Where's the Leader?"
Mark's expression faltered for a brief moment. His smile faded, and a shadow passed over his eyes. It was as if he hadn't wanted to hear that question—but couldn't leave it unanswered.
"As always..." he said. "In his room. He wants to be alone, you know how it is."
Liora said nothing. She merely nodded and began walking. Her long coat trailed behind her, her steps carrying a tense but determined rhythm that echoed in Kael. Without thinking, he followed.
As Mark passed by Kael, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping, and a whisper escaped from the corners of his lips:
"Good luck."
With those words, that ambiguous smile returned to his face. Kael hesitated for a moment. Was there a warning hidden in that "good luck"? Or was it a genuine wish? He tried to understand, but it was impossible to read the man's expression. Something inside him whispered that this man was… strange. Pushing the questions aside, Kael moved on.
Mark stayed where he was for a while, watching the corridor where Liora and Kael disappeared. As his smile slowly faded, another inaudible sentence slipped through his lips—but only the shadows heard it.