Rex returned to the library and didn't say a word.
He didn't browse.
Didn't train.
Didn't even look around.
He just walked to a chair, sat down, and stared at the table like it had personally wronged him.
Minutes passed.
Velkhor noticed.
He set his glass down and approached, casual as always.
"Hey, kid—"
"Do you have a room without windows," Rex cut in, voice flat, "where sound can't get out?"
Velkhor blinked. "Yeah… why?"
Then he really looked at Rex's face.
No jokes.
No excitement.
No reckless grin.
Just someone who knew something was wrong and didn't know how bad yet.
"…Alright," Velkhor said quietly. "Come with me."
The Sealed Room
The room was deep inside the library—stone walls, reinforced door, runes faintly etched into the frame. No windows. No drafts. The kind of place meant for secrets, not comfort.
Velkhor closed the door behind them.
The sound vanished.
Rex immediately slotted the fire focus.
"IGNIS."
Flames flared around the gauntlet.
Velkhor raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
Rex pulled a book from his pouch and set it on the table.
Crimson Rite.
Black cover.
Iron corners.
Red stains like old blood.
Rex aimed the burning gauntlet at it.
"I got this off a mage," he said. "Purple-black battle robes. Top of a mountain. Lightning ritual. Tried to kill me."
Velkhor's expression changed the moment he saw the cover.
Not fear.
Recognition.
"…I see why you were ready to burn it," Velkhor said.
Rex didn't lower his arm. "I want to know what it means."
Velkhor studied him. "You sure?"
"I don't think I have a choice."
Velkhor nodded once. "Then let's read it."
"…You want me to read it?"
"No," Velkhor said. "I do."
Rex hesitated, then deactivated the gauntlet and sat beside him.
Velkhor opened the book.
Runes That Shouldn't Exist
Rex leaned in—and froze.
"…What the hell."
The book was written entirely in runes.
Normally, that wouldn't matter. Rex could read runes as easily as breathing. They flowed into his mind naturally.
But this time—
Nothing.
The runes slid off his perception. Like his mind refused to hold them.
Velkhor, on the other hand, could read them.
And his face went pale.
He read slowly at first.
Then faster.
Then faster still—flipping pages rapidly, eyes darting, jaw tightening.
Rex noticed his hands shaking.
"…Velkhor?" Rex asked.
No response.
Velkhor slammed the book shut.
He exhaled sharply.
Then, in a voice heavy enough to sink stone, he said:
"Rex… what have you gotten yourself into?"
Rex swallowed. "What?"
Velkhor stood, shoved the book back into Rex's hands, and said, "Follow me."
The Other Book
They walked to a section of the library Rex had never seen touched.
Yet it was pristine.
Dustless.
Carefully arranged.
Velkhor scanned the shelves, then pulled out a book.
Brown leather cover.
Gold-bound corners.
A golden eye embossed on the front.
Not twisted.
Not sharp.
Warm. Almost kind.
Rex looked between the two books.
Crimson Rite.
Golden Eye.
"…They're related," Rex said.
Velkhor nodded. "Very."
"This," Velkhor said, holding up the golden book, "is the Mistica Arcanum. Or just Mistica."
"It's also written in runes," Rex said.
"Yes," Velkhor replied. "But unlike the Crimson Rite… it isn't corrupted. It isn't uncensored. And it doesn't dump forbidden knowledge into your head the moment you open it."
Rex frowned. "Please explain it like I'm five."
Velkhor sighed. "Alright."
"The Crimson Rite shows you everything. Immediately."
Rex blinked. "So?"
Velkhor's eyes darkened. "Including void magic. God-summoning rituals. Soul-binding. Forbidden alchemy. Knowledge that normally takes lifetimes—or sanity—to approach."
"…Oh."
"And the Mistica Arcanum," Velkhor continued, lifting the golden book, "teaches you based on what you've already learned. It opens slowly. Carefully. Like a guide."
Rex looked back at the Crimson Rite.
"So this thing just… hands you the abyss."
Velkhor nodded. "And expects you not to fall in."
Velkhor pulled out another book and handed it to Rex.
A storybook.
"This," Velkhor said, "is about a cult."
"They found an evil version of a magic tome. Unfiltered knowledge. Dangerous spells."
Rex's stomach tightened.
"They went insane," Velkhor continued. "Tried to summon a god that should never have been named."
Rex looked up slowly.
"…This story is about these two books, isn't it?"
"Yes."
Velkhor turned to him.
"And did you get that book"—he pointed to the Crimson Rite—"from a cultist?"
Rex swallowed.
"I got it from a mage in purple and black battle armor."
Velkhor didn't hesitate.
"Take me there."
Rex felt it then.
Fear.
Excitement.
And something worse—anticipation.
Whatever he had killed on that mountain…
It wasn't the end.
And for reasons he didn't fully understand—
He couldn't wait to see what came next.