Zarok led X and Jacob from the relative comfort of the infirmary to a squat, windowless building near the center of the settlement.
The structure was made of reinforced earth and scavenged steel plates. The single door was a heavy slab of metal secured with a thick crossbar. It felt less like a library and more like a bunker.
Two armed guards stood watch outside, nodding grimly to Zarok as he approached.
"This is our archives," Zarok explained as he lifted the heavy bar. "Where we keep our records, our maps, and anything of value that can't be eaten or worn. Information is as precious as water out here."
The air inside was cool and dry, smelling of old paper and dust.
Shelves lined the walls, filled with a scattered collection of books, scrolls, and hand-drawn maps. In the center of the room, resting on a sturdy wooden table, was a large flat piece of dark basalt, about three feet long and two feet wide. Its surface was covered in carved symbols.
"This is it," Zarok said, gesturing to the stone tablet. "We pulled it from the wreckage of what looked like an old-world museum or university, half buried in the sand. We thought it was a prize, a piece of the past. But it's given us nothing but questions."
X stepped closer.
Their eyes were drawn immediately to the carvings.
At first glance they resembled the hieroglyphs from the stele. But as X studied them, something felt wrong.
The familiar shapes of birds, reeds, and gods were there but twisted.
An ankh, the symbol of life, was fractured, its loop broken.
The Eye of Horus seemed to weep jagged lines down the stone.
Between the glyphs appeared the same spiraling pattern carved into X's pendant.
"It's like a disease of the language itself," Jacob murmured beside them. "I can recognize the root forms, but the meaning is warped. It's like trying to read a book while the words rewrite themselves."
X reached forward and touched one of the corrupted symbols.
The stone was cold.
A faint vibration passed through their fingers.
A chaotic hum.
The same energy they had felt in the desert.
The curse.
The blight Seren had described.
"What do you see?" Zarok asked impatiently.
X didn't answer immediately.
The knowledge was there but buried beneath interference. Like a familiar melody played out of tune.
X closed their eyes.
Ignoring the distorted shapes, they focused on the meaning behind them.
Slowly, fragments began forming.
"A king…" X whispered.
"Betrayed."
Jacob leaned forward.
"Soul… shattered… and bound."
X's eyes snapped open and locked on the spiral symbol repeated across the tablet.
"That symbol," X said. "It's a lock."
"A binding."
"Bound to what?" Jacob asked.
"The land."
The words came faster now.
"The sand. The stone. His rage… his pain… it became poison."
X looked again at the warped carvings.
"The text calls it the Un-making."
"It doesn't just kill."
"It corrupts."
"It rewrites."
Zarok stared at the stone, then at X.
For years the tablet had been meaningless marks.
Now someone was reading it.
"It also speaks of a catalyst," X continued, tracing a line that appeared less distorted.
"A vessel whose presence would awaken the full fury of the curse."
"A 'Forgotten' child of the old bloodline… returned to the land of their ancestors."
Silence filled the archive.
A forgotten child.
The words echoed through X's mind.
Amnesia.
The desert.
The pendant.
"It's a prophecy," Jacob said quietly.
"The binding of Akhenaten's soul wasn't only a punishment."
"It was a trap."
"A defense mechanism."
"If someone of his bloodline returned… the curse would awaken."
Zarok slowly turned toward X.
"You woke up alone in the desert," he said.
"You can read this language."
"You carry that pendant."
His gaze hardened.
"You are the catalyst."
The accusation held no anger.
Only realization.
X felt the weight of it instantly.
Not a victim.
Not just a survivor.
The trigger.
Their presence was making everything worse.
The creatures.
The storms.
The spreading blight.
X staggered back from the table.
Their hand moved to the pendant against their chest.
Was this what they were?
The cause of it all?
A walking disaster that had unknowingly unleashed destruction?
The emptiness in their mind suddenly felt heavier.
Zarok watched them carefully.
Just someone drowning under a truth they had never asked for.
The last of Zarok's suspicion faded.
"It seems," he said slowly, "your problem is now our problem."
He turned toward the large map pinned to the wall.
"For years we've been fighting symptoms."
"Raiders."
"Creatures."
"The blight."
He gestured toward the tablet.
"But this… this might be the disease."
Zarok studied the map in silence for several moments.
Then he spoke again.
"If you are the trigger… you might also be the key."
Jacob looked up.
"The prophecy only says catalyst," Zarok continued.
"It doesn't say for what."
"Maybe it awakens the curse."
"Maybe it can end it."
His finger tapped the map.
"We have been hiding behind walls."
"It isn't enough."
"The blight is getting stronger."
"The storms are worse."
"The creatures are bolder."
"We are running out of time."
Zarok turned back toward them.
The man who once focused only on defending the settlement was now thinking about something larger.
A war.
"We are no longer just surviving," he said.
"We are going to fight back."
The revelation in the archives changed everything. X was no longer just a guest or a curiosity. They had become the center of a crisis that extended far beyond the walls of the Well.
Zarok called the council.
It was not the public, only a small group gathered inside the archive room that felt more like a bunker than a library.
The leaders of the Well stood around the table. Zarok, the protector of the settlement. Seren, the healer whose calm presence held people together. Jacob, the reluctant keeper of knowledge. And now X, the one connected to the disaster.
The mood in the room was heavy.
The basalt tablet rested on the table between them. No one touched it.
X felt separated from the others even while standing beside them. Knowing they might be the cause of the world's decay created a distance that words could not close.
Whether intentional or not, the curse was tied to them.
Zarok finally broke the silence.
"Let us be clear about what we know."
He stood near the large map of the wastes that covered one wall.
"First. The ancient pharaoh's curse is real. It is the source of the blight destroying the world."
He paused before continuing.
"Second. The curse was triggered or strengthened by the arrival of a catalyst. Someone connected to the bloodline of that king."
His eyes moved to X.
"Everything points to you."
X did not argue. They simply nodded once. The truth had already settled inside them.
Zarok continued.
"Third. This curse is active. It is not something that happened long ago and ended. It is growing because you are here. Hiding will not protect us. The blight will continue spreading until it reaches this place as well."
Jacob leaned forward slightly, thinking.
"The tablet said the king's soul was shattered and bound," he said slowly. "That means there must be a source. A place anchoring it."
He tapped the journal lying beside the tablet.
"The tomb."
Everyone in the room understood what he meant.
"The journal X found said the same thing. Everything leads back to that tomb. If the curse started there, it might also end there."
Seren looked uneasy.
"You want to go there?"
Her voice carried real concern.
"The journal described that place as madness. It warned that death waits for anyone who enters."
Zarok answered immediately.
"Doing nothing is also death."
His tone was firm.
"Only slower."
He turned again to X.
"The curse is tied to you. That means your presence might allow us to reach places others could not. The energy Seren sensed inside you may be the only thing capable of pushing back the blight."
Jacob rubbed his temple.
"There is one problem."
Everyone looked at him.
"We do not know where the tomb is."
Silence followed.
"The writer of the journal found it but never recorded the location. The desert is enormous. Searching blindly could take years."
The brief sense of progress faded, then Seren spoke.
"There might be another way."
Everyone turned toward her.
"There are stories passed down from the early survivors. My mentor used to tell them to the apprentices."
She paused as she organized her thoughts.
"They spoke about a group of scholars. People who studied the old world and the pharaohs. They believed the disaster that destroyed civilization was connected to those ancient kings."
Jacob's eyes widened.
"The Keepers of the Glyphs."
Seren nodded.
"They were real. Their goal was to understand the catastrophe and find a way to stop it. They collected texts and artifacts from before the collapse."
Her voice grew quieter.
"But the work destroyed them. One by one they lost themselves. The knowledge they uncovered was too much."
Zarok stepped closer.
"Did any survive?"
Seren hesitated before answering.
"The stories say one did."
The room became very still.
"A woman. The daughter of their leader. She was the most talented of them all."
"What was her name?" X asked.
"Katrina."
The name lingered in the air. Hope and uncertainty mixed together.
"Where is she?" X asked.
Seren shook her head.
"No one knows for sure. She disappeared years ago. The last traders who spoke with her said she was searching for something called the Library of the Ancients."
Jacob frowned.
"I have heard of it."
Seren continued.
"She believed the library held the answer. A map or record leading to the tomb."
"And where did she go?" Zarok asked.
"East." Seren pointed to the map.
"Toward the Sunken City."
Jacob did not look pleased.
"That place is a nightmare. It used to be a massive city before the world ended. Now half of it is buried under sand. The structures collapse without warning. And the blighted creatures there are worse than anything near the Well."
Zarok studied the map.
"But it is still a lead."
He traced a line eastward.
"It may be the only lead we have."
His voice grew more decisive.
"If we find Katrina, we may find the tomb. If we find the tomb, we may stop the curse."
The direction of the meeting shifted.
A plan was beginning to form.
Dangerous. Uncertain. But real.
"I will go."
Everyone looked at X.
The statement was calm and final.
"This started because of me. I cannot stay here while others face it."
Jacob spoke immediately.
"You are not going alone."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
"You will need someone who understands the old world. And someone who can stop you from making terrible decisions."
Seren looked toward Zarok.
"I should go as well."
Zarok's expression tightened.
"The Well needs you."
"I know," Seren said quietly.
"But my ability to sense the blight could help them avoid danger. And if we meet survivors or injured travelers, they will need a healer."
Zarok looked at each of them in turn.
The catalyst.
The scholar.
The healer.
Not the team he would have chosen.
But perhaps the only one possible.
He exhaled slowly.
"I cannot leave the Well. My duty is here."
Then his voice strengthened.
"But I will not send you unprepared."
He looked directly at them.
"Rest for now. Gather what you need. I will arrange supplies and weapons."
A pause followed.
"You leave in couple of days."
The weight of the mission settled on the room.
"You will carry the hope of everyone here until then Jacob will look after you."
The meeting ended, but none of them felt relief.
The journey ahead would decide far more than their own survival.
It might decide the fate of the entire world.