At that exact moment, Robert's Tu device chimed with a high-pitched, clear notification sound that cut through the silence like a scalpel; however, this was not like the emergency signal from Sinf's device. It was more of a calm yet insistent alert, reminiscent of a personal appointment. Both of them were abruptly pulled from that magical moment back to reality. Robert involuntarily pulled his hand away from Tina's, as if he had been caught doing something forbidden.
Tu's holographic screen materialized in front of Robert. On the screen was the Academy's symbol, and glowing text beneath it:
[LESSON NOTIFICATION: NORENDA TRAINING - INTRODUCTION. INSTRUCTOR: IKSAS ALDEON. LOCATION: SECTOR 2 - ARCHIVE OF ANCIENT WORLDS, ENTRANCE HALL. START: IN 10 MINUTES.]
"Norenda..." Robert whispered the word, and the image of Uhura's companion, Neel, with that strange, swirling hair, came to his mind. A new lesson. A new mystery.
In that instant, the engineer within him, the student within him, shed that fragile, emotional moment and took control. He shot up from the chair as if a rocket had ignited behind him, a movement so sudden and unexpected that Tina recoiled with a start.
This sudden change in Robert stunned Tina. The man who had just touched the depths of her soul had now transformed into a soldier, his eyes locked on a distant, new objective. Tina quickly stood up too. Her face held a mixture of hurt and curiosity. Swiftly, she drew fiery letters in the air with her finger. The letters, as if reflecting her state of mind, appeared hasty and somewhat trembling.
WHAT HAPPENED? IS IT SOMETHING BAD?
Seeing her concern, Robert felt bad about his own haste. "No, no! It's not something bad," he said, showing her the Tu's screen. "It's just... a new lesson. Norenda Training. I don't want to be late."
Tina read the text on the screen. The tension on her face eased somewhat, but it was replaced by another emotion: the fact that Robert had to go. The end of the special moment they had shared.
As Robert moved to leave, they both hesitated for a moment. How would they say goodbye? After such an intense moment, a simple "see you" would feel flat.
Robert acted on impulse. "Listen," he said, his voice returning to that sincere tone. "For tonight... thank you for what you told me." He took a step closer and continued hesitantly. "And don't worry..." He looked into her eyes. "...this fire-writing will stay between us; this is our secret."
That last sentence was more important to Tina than anything else. It wasn't just a promise to keep a secret; it was an acknowledgment that the special communication channel they shared belonged only to the two of them. Robert understood how special what she had done was. Tina had, for the first time in her life, spoken to someone with words. Normally, when communicating with others, she only used simple, universal shapes; a fireball, a ring of smoke. Only Sinf, by some unknown method, understood and translated her more complex thoughts. But this... these living, emotional words, written in fire... this was just for Robert. It was the true language of her soul, shown only to him.
Tina nodded gratefully. Then, she wrote one last word in the air with her finger; it was just a single word, but its flame was the brightest, hottest flame she had until that moment.
GO.
What she wrote was not a dismissal, but an encouragement. Go and learn. Go and grow stronger. Go and one day, be the man who will break that curse.
Robert understood this silent message. He smiled, turned, and walked out of the hall.
As Robert walked through the corridors, his steps were more confident, his posture more erect. He was no longer just a kid lost in the labyrinths of the Academy. He had a purpose. He had a friend with whom he shared a secret, a friend worth fighting for.
Sector 2 was a place he had never been before, and it was very different from the sterile, technological atmosphere of Sector 7, where the Twist Engine was, or the more military, functional feel of the Fourth Sector, where the Red Friends' hall was located. The walls of Sector 2 were not metal or crystal, but seemed to be made of thousands of years old, veined, dark wood. The ceiling was supported by high, gothic arches, and the lighting came from glowing spheres suspended from the ceiling, looking as if they were imprisoned within. Even the smell in the air was different; the sweet, dusty scent of old books, polished wood, and dried herbs... This place felt less like a technology base and more like an ancient library or a museum.
Following the map, he arrived at a massive, carved door bearing the inscription "Archive of Ancient Worlds." Intertwined dragons, unknown constellations, and indecipherable runes were carved into the door. Robert paused for a moment to admire the craftsmanship.
The door opened silently to his touch. The inside was even more breathtaking than he had expected. Shelves stretching as far as the eye could see, rising to the ceiling... But there were no books on these shelves. In each shelf, inside glass display cases, thousands of different objects were exhibited. The hilt of a broken sword, a gleaming jewel, a strange fossilized plant, a helmet that looked like a relic from a non-existent civilization, an energy whip, a mechanical cube whose purpose was unclear... Each one was a memento from a different world, a different time; it was like a graveyard of lost realities.
In the middle of the entrance hall, there was a circular, low platform and a single figure waiting on it; it was a being clad in a long, flowing, midnight-blue robe, its back turned to Robert. He couldn't see who or what the being was, but the aura emanating from its posture was different from Kefius's wisdom or Normah's reckless power; it was a calm, patient, and incredibly ancient aura. It was as if this was someone who knew the story of every object in this room and carried the weight of those stories on their shoulders.
Robert approached slowly. His footsteps echoed in the silent hall. When he reached the front of the platform, he said, "I'm here for Instructor Iksas Aldeon."
The figure slowly turned to him.
And Robert was met with the strangest yet wisest face he had ever seen in his life. The instructor had a humanoid body, but its head resembled that of an old, wise turtle. Its skin was covered in thousands of fine wrinkles, in shades of dark green and brown. Its eyes were small, bright, and black, but within them, there was a sparkle, like the slowly rotating lights of a galaxy. It had no mouth. When it spoke, the voice resonated directly inside Robert's mind, calm and melodic.
"You're on time, Robert. I am Iksas Aldeon. And yes, I am a turtle. Or at least, that is the equivalent from the world I come from."
Robert, trying to hide his astonishment, nodded his head.
"I know you have already learned briefly from your companion Uhura what a Norenda is," Iksas's mental voice continued. "But her definition is like trying to fit an ocean into a glass. A Norenda is not just a companion; it is an echo of your soul, lost in another reality. Every object in this archive once held the potential to be someone's Norenda, and they are sleeping souls, waiting for their owners."
Iksas raised a slow, bony hand and gestured for Robert to step onto the platform.
"Your first lesson will not be to choose a Norenda. Your first lesson will be to learn to listen to their voice. Every object in this room whispers, Robert. It whispers its own history, its own pain, its own power. Your task is to silence your mind and hear those whispers. Because one day, one of those whispers will speak your name."
Robert stood frozen for a moment on the platform in the middle of the Archive of Ancient Worlds, faced with the presence of this ancient, turtle-like being. Iksas Aldeon's voice, echoing inside his mind, was clearer, more penetrating than any external sound; so much so that this voice did not vibrate his eardrums, it touched the very center of his consciousness. The place he was in did not evoke a technological awe like in the Twist Engine's room, but a deeper, more spiritual respect, born from the weight of millennia of history and countless lost stories.
"Every object in this room whispers, Robert. Your task is to silence your mind and hear those whispers."
These last words from Iksas hung in Robert's mind. To silence his mind... It was similar to what Kefius had asked of him. However, this time the goal was not to connect to a machine, but to establish a dialogue with history itself, with the library of souls.
"Come closer," Iksas's mental voice continued, leading Robert off the platform and into the dim corridors of the archive. They walked with slow, measured steps. In the display cases around them, objects that were once the center of life, war, love, and loss slept silently. "I must tell you why these companions are called 'Norenda.' This name is no coincidence; for it is the beginning of everything."
Iksas, without pausing, began to recount the history as if telling a fairy tale memorized for centuries.
"Before the foundations of this Academy were laid, before the letters GDF yet held any meaning, there was a young and daring explorer from our lineage, the Malkens, named Norenda Kimono. This explorer did not research star charts or new planets like the others; she searched for the tears in the fabric of reality, the invisible layers of the universe. Even in places others called 'void' or 'chaos,' she saw a pattern, an energy signature."
As Robert listened to Iksas, the vision of a young Malken, traveling alone among the stars, fearlessly advancing towards the unknown, formed in his mind.
"After decades of searching, Norenda succeeded," Iksas continued. His voice was less like reading a history book and more like conveying the memories of someone who had witnessed those moments. "She discovered a non-physical world, composed entirely of energy, which we know as the 'Ancient Realm.' This was a place where the rules of time and space as we know them did not apply, an ocean of pure potential, and in this ocean, countless sparks of consciousness were floating. The souls of warriors who died in battles, the echoes of ancient weapons that were destroyed along with their owners, the last whispers of forgotten gods, the memories of forests that no longer exist... They were all there. Intermingled, aimless, trapped in the infinite vortex of their own memories and longings."
Iksas placed his hand on a display case containing a rusty, broken helmet. "Norenda felt the pain of these souls. Their loneliness. That is why she dedicated the rest of her life to building a bridge between these two worlds. After decades of trial and error, countless failures, and dangerous journeys, she managed to 'anchor' some of those souls to physical objects in this dimension. She gave them a home, a focal point."
Eventually, when the GDF Academy was founded, Norenda Kimono was no longer a young explorer, but a master respected by all for her wisdom. When she took a position at the Academy, she turned her discovery into a lesson to use these souls for a beneficial purpose. Her goal was to prevent those souls from being trapped only in their own worlds, in their own memories, and to offer them a new purpose, a new companion. And she gave this lesson, this principle of companionship, her own name: Norenda.
"But this was not something everyone could achieve," Iksas added, turning to Robert. Those ancient eyes in his turtle-like face were looking into the depths of Robert's soul. "Not everyone would have a Norenda. For this was a matter of pure chance and bond strength. The echo of your soul must resonate with the echo of another soul in that energetic ocean. You must complete each other. Sometimes the soul of a warrior finds the most peaceful healer; because the healer needs tranquility, and the warrior needs a purpose. And sometimes the soul of the most complex technological genius waits inside a simple, wooden toy. The bond is not formed with logic, but with need."
Robert was mesmerized by this narrative, because this was not just a lesson, but one of the most fundamental balances of the universe. Lost souls and the companions who offered them a home...
"Over time, we learned to classify the Norendas," Iksas continued, leading him towards another door he hadn't seen before, deeper in the archive. "There are basically three main types. The first are 'Bound Entities'; these are the souls of beings that were once living, breathing creatures. Like your companion Uhura's Neel. They are usually the most complex and have the most personality. The second are 'Object Spirits'; these are the consciousnesses living within a weapon, an armor, or a charm, like most objects in this archive. Their powers are generally more focused and specific. And finally, the rarest ones, the 'Conceptual Echoes.' These are not the souls of a being that once lived, but of a
strong emotion or a concept. Like the echo of a civilization's desire for 'Justice' or the 'Vengeance' whisper of a millennia-old blood feud. It is almost impossible to bond with them, and just as dangerous."
Finally, they stopped in front of the door they had reached; it was not carved or magnificent like the main gate of the archive. It was a simpler, smooth, circular stone door with no markings on it.
"You have learned the terminology and the history," said Iksas's mental voice. "Now, it is time to learn to listen and understand."
Iksas pushed the door open. He led Robert into the Norenda acquisition room.
The inside was completely different from the dim and dusty atmosphere of the archive; this was a circular room with a high, domed ceiling. The walls were covered with a dark blue, shimmering material, resembling a starry night sky. The room's illumination was provided by a soft, silvery light coming from these star-like points. Inside the room, at different heights, as if floating in the air, were dozens of crystal platforms. And on each platform, there was a smooth, opaque sphere, about the size of Robert's head.
The spheres were separated into categories and backgrounds. In one section, there were spheres that looked cold and geometric, with a metallic sheen inside them; these must be the 'Object Spirits.' In another section, there were spheres with a veined, organic texture on their surface, looking as if they would be slightly warm to the touch; these were probably the 'Bound Entities.' In the farthest corner of the room, there were only three, unstable-looking spheres, whose inner light constantly changed color and shape, dizzying to even look at: the 'Conceptual Echoes.'
"These spheres are focal points," Iksas explained. "They are the windows from this room into the souls in the Ancient Realm. By touching them, you can momentarily look into their world, you can hear their whispers. But doing this is not just about looking. There is a formula."
Iksas turned to Robert, and at that moment, he looked less like a wise teacher and more like a master guiding a dangerous experiment.
"The formula consists of three steps. First: Silence. You must silence the noise of your own mind, your expectations, your fears. You must be an empty vessel, so you can be filled with their whisper. Second: Focus. Choose a sphere and direct your entire being, your entire consciousness to that single point. As if nothing else exists in the universe but it. And third, the most important: Invitation. Do not try to force a door open. Just knock on the door and wait for the one inside to open it. Send an invitation from your mind, 'I want to hear you. Share your story with me.' Do not force, just allow."
Robert listened to these instructions carefully; apparently, this was an even more abstract, more spiritual process than the Twist lesson.
"Let's see then," said Iksas. "Choose one and try to listen."
Robert slowly walked into the room. His eyes wandered among the different spheres. He wanted to choose something simpler for his first try. He approached a steel-gray sphere in the 'Object Spirits' section, on whose surface the ghost of an old shield emblem was visible.
He took a deep breath. Step One: Silence. He pushed aside the thoughts in his mind, Tina, Amara, Normah, all of them. He thought of the white room, of his calm partner within.
Step Two: Focus. He closed his eyes and placed his hands on the cold surface of the sphere. He focused all his attention on that smooth, cold touch under his fingers.
Step Three: Invitation. 'I want to hear you. Share your story with me.'
At first, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, a flood of noise filled his mind. The screams of thousands of people, the sound of swords clashing, the roar of flames, fear, pain, hatred... It was as if he had been dropped into the middle of a battlefield. What he felt was so sudden and violent that he cried out in pain, snatching his hands back from the sphere and staggering backward.
"You forced it too much," said Iksas's calm voice from beside him. "Instead of listening, you commanded to hear. Instead of sharing their pain, you tried to steal their knowledge. Try again. Be gentler this time."
Robert regulated his breathing. This time, he approached a sphere in the 'Bound Entities' section, its surface moss-green, its texture resembling a smooth river stone.
He applied the formula again. Silence. Focus. And this time, with a sincerity he truly felt, Invitation. 'I want you to know you are not alone. Please, if you wish, show me a piece of yourself.'
When he placed his hands on the sphere, there was no assault this time. Instead, gentle, whisper-like sensations began to seep into his mind. On his fingertip, the cool, slippery feeling of wet moss. In his nose, the rich, earthy smell of the forest after the rain. In a corner of his mind, the image of dappled, dancing lights created by sunlight filtering through dense tree leaves. And deepest inside, the whisper of a name... "Lyra...na..."
What he saw was not a vision, but an echo of a memory. Robert smiled and pulled his hands away. He had succeeded. Partially, at least, he had succeeded.
He looked at Iksas. The old instructor nodded in approval.
Robert, his confidence renewed, decided to wander around the room a bit more. His eye was caught by a sphere standing on a single platform, separate from the others, not placed in any category. This sphere was not opaque like the others. Its surface had an iridescent structure, constantly changing color, like a soap bubble. Sometimes it shimmered blue, sometimes purple, and sometimes gold. Inside it, pale, white lights flashed, like lightning inside a storm cloud.
He was instinctively drawn to it, as this sphere was different from the others. More alive, more... restless.
Iksas's mental voice came as a warning. "That one is new. It has not been classified yet. Be careful."
Robert came to the front of the platform. When he looked at the sphere, he didn't see his own reflection, but the dance of constantly changing colors and the storm within. He took a deep breath to apply the formula. He closed his eyes, silenced his mind.
But this time, he didn't need to focus.
The moment he extended his hands to the sphere, the sphere reached out to him.
His mind was not filled with a flood of noise or gentle whispers. Instead, he felt a single, clear, powerful sensation; it was not an emotion, but a concept.
VOID.
But what he felt was not the emptiness of nothingness; it was the dark, velvety void between the stars, full of potential. Like the void of a canvas before it is painted, of a word before it is spoken, of a universe before it is born.
And in the very center of that void, Robert heard a single, crystal-clear voice. What he heard was not a word, but an intention; it was a question.
"CREATOR?"
It was not a word. It was an earthquake. A tremor that shook the foundation of Robert's mind, displacing the tectonic plates of his consciousness. Its voice was not like a bell striking the walls of his mind; it was more like a glass cathedral suddenly collapsing inward, millions of fragments of memory and thought shattering all at once. The gentle bridge Robert had built until that moment, the calm riverbed where he listened to the whispers, was suddenly submerged under a bursting dam.
The feeling coming from the sphere was no longer an invitation or a question; it was the
pure, raw pressure created by millennia of loneliness, infinite potential, and an incomprehensible consciousness trying to pass through that narrow mental bridge all at the same time. Robert's brain was like a fuse trying to absorb the energy of a supernova with a single neuron. And that fuse blew instantly.
His thoughts shattered. Everything he had known up to that moment; Oakhaven, his family, his project, the Academy, the Red Friends, Tina's secret... they all lost their meaning, scattering into the void of his mind like colorful shards of glass. The only thing he saw was that velvety, potential-filled void between the stars, and in the center of that void, a colossal galaxy twisting in the shape of a question mark.
In the physical world, this mental collapse manifested itself with a violent reaction. Robert was thrown backward as if pushed in the chest by an invisible hand, unable to even scream. His feet left the ground, and he fell hard on his back onto the room's floor. His eyes were wide open, but he was seeing nothing; he was only watching the flashing lightning of that internal storm.
Iksas Aldeon sprang from his spot with a speed he perhaps hadn't moved with in centuries. When he reached Robert's body, the ancient calm on his old, turtle-like face had been replaced by absolute astonishment. The wise sparkle in his eyes gave way to concern for a moment. He could feel Robert's mental aura fluctuating dangerously, like a ship caught in the middle of a storm.
"Robert!" Iksas's mental voice called out, this time not with the calm tone of a teacher, but like the urgent command of a doctor. "Come back! Anchor your mind! Hold on to something you know!"
But Robert couldn't hear. His lips parted, trembling, trying to form a single word from among his shattered thoughts, the word that had started it all.
"Cre... a... tor..."
The word he stammered was nothing more than a faint whisper, but it struck Iksas's ears like a thunderclap. The old instructor's eyes widened in shock. This was impossible. The sphere in question... It should have been just a new echo. But this reaction... this question... These were things he had never encountered before.
Iksas made his decision immediately; this test they were conducting had taken a dangerous turn. He sent a mental command, closing the windows of all the spheres in the room. The crushing pressure that had shaken Robert was cut off, as if a tap had been suddenly turned off.
Robert took a deep, shaky breath. The meaningless void in his eyes slowly gave way to bewilderment and pain again. His consciousness was slowly crawling out from the rubble of the shattered cathedral. His head was throbbing, as if his brain was bouncing inside his skull like a ball.
Iksas helped him sit up. Robert's legs were still shaking. "Creator..." he whispered again, more clearly this time. He looked at Iksas. "It... it asked me if I was the Creator."
Iksas's mental voice returned to its calm tone, but this time it held an undisguised curiosity. "That is... that is enough for today. That sphere... is a special case. We will need to dwell on it more. But not now." He placed his hand on Robert's shoulder. "In your next lesson, we will try acquiring a Norenda. But you will stay away from that sphere. Understood?"
Robert could only nod. His mind was still like a pile of rubble. Iksas led him to the exit of the room. When Robert stepped back into the silent, magnificent corridors of the Archive of Ancient Worlds, he felt as if he had awakened not from a dream, but from a nightmare.
As he walked through the corridors, he muttered to himself. "Creator... What did it mean? Am I the creator? Is it looking for its own creator? Was this a test, or a cry for help?" His mind was crushed under the rubble of these questions.
He was so lost in his own thoughts that he only slowly began to notice the bustle of life around him. The Academy corridors were more crowded than usual as the end of classes approached. This time, however, he wasn't just looking at the crowd like a stranger. After Iksas's lesson, he felt as if he could hear the whisper of a potential Norenda, an untold story, in every being around him.
In a corner, four insectoid beings were communicating with chirping click sounds, touching their long, thin antennae to each other. What was their world like? How did they express their love, their wars?
A little further on, three small, bird-like creatures with feathers shimmering like jewels were flying around a massive, unhewn rock-like, slow-moving being. With their beaks, they were gently cleaning the blemishes on the rock-being's surface, and the rock-being, pleased with this attention, was emitting a deep, resonant purr. Was this a symbiosis? A friendship?
As Robert looked at these small, living tableaus, he thought of his own teammates; they were also as different as these strange beings, and just as connected to each other. Karnah's immense strength and gentle heart. Vingyu's endless energy. Sinf's ethereal calm. Uhura's silent depth. Tina's fiery secrets. And Tersan...
At that exact moment, as he was turning the corner of the last corridor leading to the hall, he came face to face with Tersan.