"Long before kingdoms were raised from stone…
Long before the names of gods were written in gold…
The world was ruled by silence, shadow, and suffering."
"No man knew peace. No soul found rest. For above all Creation reigned a single will — cruel and eternal: the Deity of Deem, as black and cold as the depths of space. The world trembled beneath her — a being now only whispered of in forbidden tomes… a Horror, a Deity of Darkness, she whose name was struck from every tongue."
Her curse tore through the land, spreading like rot through bone.
She twisted souls, refused them rest — turning essence into abominations.
Creatures born not of life, but of despair.
The gods stood beside her — marionettes in a grand design of terror.
Calamity fell like ash.
Prayers turned to dust.
Devotion became chains.
Hope had no voice.
The powerless, no face.
All who lived… submitted.
"But then came war."
Not a war of kingdoms or crowns — but of realms.
"She, the Radiant One, the last of the Light-born, descended from unreachable stars, daring to challenge the throne of torment."
Even divinity could bleed. And so, she did.
But before the end, she found one mortal — a man with nothing, and thus, everything to give.
His name was swallowed by time. But the world still remembers…
Thalos the Void.
A man who stared into the abyss — and did not flinch.
A man who bore divine burdens stitched into mortal flesh.
A man who shattered the silence.
He rose not for vengeance, nor for glory — but for every soul who had ever wept beneath blackened heavens.
He stood beside the Radiant One as concept clashed with concept — light against horror, mortal against eternal.
Their battle tore the sky, split the seas, and shook the stars.
And from their final stand, something new was born.
"Together, they tore the world in two — and from the broken pieces, something new was born."
"The Pathways…" Aiyana whispered.
She sat frozen beneath the glow of the Kingdom Library's reading sanctum. The tome lay before her like a sleeping beast — truth and legend stitched in binding older than time.
Above her, the crystalline dome shimmered — not with candlelight, but with soft, flowing magic.
Hues of starlight swept the chamber like breath. Dust floated around her like galaxies suspended in stillness.
Her eyes scanned the next passage:
"The Pathways are ancient routes of transformation — not merely powers, but destinies. Echoes of the divine. Remnants of philosophies that bled from gods who fell, and never rose again."
"To awaken a Pathway is to embrace an ancient will. To walk it… is to be changed."
"Each Pathway is not a tool, but a truth — a mirror of the soul, forged from a god's final scream. A vow carved into existence. And to walk one… is to become something beyond mortal."
Aiyana's fingertips trembled on the parchment.
The page… pulsed.
As if it recognized her.
At the top, a title shimmered in script that danced when not directly seen:
"Of Pathways and Ascension: A Chronicle of the First Era."
She closed her eyes.
For the first time, she understood — not fully, not yet… but enough to know this:
The Pathways were never meant to be wielded lightly.
They were inheritance… and burden.
A choice… and a calling.
And long ago, one man chose to answer.
⸻
Thalos the Void was the beginning.
The first mortal to unlock the soul.
His sacrifice scattered divinity's remains — fragments of will that seeded the Pathways.
The Radiant One died.
Her essence merged with the land.
From her light, Caelumbre was born — a Kingdom forged of memory, mercy, and myth.
Thalos vanished with the Deity of Deem.
Some say he sealed her — and in doing so, sealed himself.
He became part of the Kingdom.
Its silence. Its shield.
But it was his sibling who emerged — guiding the broken world toward dawn.
That sibling took the throne — not out of ambition, but ssity.
A leader born of grief.
A survivor who carried Thalos'legacy into flesh.
Their descendants would build the Kingdom stone by stone, era by era…
Until myth became monarchy.
The royalty of today…
They are not Thalos' blood — but his sibling's.
The living echoes of a family who defied eternity.
"Thalos…" Aiyana murmured.
A weight pressed on her chest — not fear… something deeper.
Awe.
Grief.
Reverence.
Now remembered as the Exalted One,
Thalos became the silent vow upon which Caelumbre was built.
A man turned myth.
A myth turned law.
And shoulddarkness ever riseagain…
So too, shall the Pathways.
At the end of the page — there was nothing left to read.
⸻
Aiyana blinked.
She leaned back, dizzy with revelation.
Her eyes drifted to a stack of old newspapers beside the shelves.
One caught her attention.
THE NIGHT CRAWLERS' REIGN!!!
Massacre in the Kingdom — HundredsDead!
October 23rd, 1342 — Era of Radiance
Her breath caught.
"October…?" she whispered. "The months are the same… but the year… and this 'Era of Radiance'…"
She did the math aloud:
"Then… today must be October 24th, 1342. E.R."
Her thoughts scattered.
Why am I here?
Why was I dragged into this world?
Was it fate? Or something else?
Before she could go further — voices echoed from deep within the Library.
Muffled. Distant. Unclear.
She froze. Her ears strained.
The voices grew louder.
Closer.
And then — pain.
A ringing. Like glass breaking inside her skull.
Her hands flew to her head.
"Ugh—w-what is this?!"
Her chest burned. Her heart raced.
She fell to her knees, breath shallow, vision shaking.
Darkness gathered between the shelves.
Two figures emerged — silhouettes of absolute black, shapeless but reaching.
Their hands found her throat.
Aiyana gasped — but no air came.
I—I c-can't… b-breathe…
She struggled.
The aura around them pinned her, robbed her of strength.
Then — like vapor — they vanished.
Silence returned.
Too complete.
Too unnatural.
She panted, hands on the floor. Her vision wavered.
Then… the books moved.
They twisted and floated midair, forming a glowing sentence:
"Was it to your liking?"
Aiyana's voice trembled.
"Virelle…?"
"No."
The books replied.
She scrambled to her feet.
"Then what was that?! What happened just now?! What are you trying to do to me?!"
"Just for fun."
A chill ran down her spine.
"Who are you?!"
"The one who forced you here."
Her blood turned to ice.
"Why?!" she cried. "Why did you bring me to this world?!"
The books floated again — glowing brighter — and wrote:
"Because it is your fate."
Her voice cracked.
"No…! I didn't ask for this! I still need to provide for my siblings! I want to go home!"
Another response:
"You can never go back."
She stood frozen.
"It is your fate."
Aiyana's eyes shook.
"It is your fate."
Her heartbeat thundered.
"It is your fate."
Her body trembled.
Again and again — the words formed.
Surrounding her.
Wrapping her in invisible chains of prophecy.
She collapsed, hands on her ears.
"No… no… no…"
Then — a flash.
The vision.
The veiled figure.
Smiling.
Its veil was woven of darkness — dotted with dim, dying stars.
Closer.
Aiyana's breath caught.
Closer.
Her eyes went wide.
Closer.
A gasp—
—
—
She awoke.
Sprawled on the library floor, heart pounding.
Drenched in sweat.
The books she had read lay beside her like sleeping sentinels.
And standing in the light… was a man.
Tall. Shadowed.
Her vision cleared — and she saw:
Cold, luminous blue eyes.
A face too beautiful to be real.
Black hair glowing under the ambient shimmer of the sanctum.
The Mysterious Witch Hat Man.
He stared down at her, silent.
"You…!" Aiyana gasped.
Their eyes locked.
The air between them held tension like a drawn blade.
Chapter 9 has Ended