The moment Salomon stepped deeper into the museum, something shifted.
The unseen spirits reacted to him.
Not subtly.
They stirred—restless, alert, almost excited.
Wong frowned, rubbing his arms.
"…You feel that?"
His eyes flicked around, uneasy.
"It's cold. Like something's crawling over my skin."
Salomon didn't answer immediately.
He was watching.
What neither of them realized was how much they stood out.
Salomon wore a long crimson robe woven from relic cloth—designed to suppress the stigmata so they wouldn't flare out of control and burn him out from the inside.
Wong, on the other hand, was dressed in standard Kamar-Taj training gear.
Brown.
Or gray.
Or some shade of dust in between.
Neither of which blended particularly well into a modern museum.
A security guard started heading their way.
Salomon grabbed Wong's sleeve.
"Move."
They slipped deeper inside, weaving past exhibits.
To Salomon, it was obvious—the guard had noticed them acting suspicious.
What he didn't notice was something else.
His sense of normal had shifted.
Robes felt natural now.
Because every mage in those memories wore them.
They passed beneath the massive glass ceiling of the central hall and entered the Egyptian wing.
Artifacts lined every surface.
Statues.
Relics.
Fragments of history pulled from centuries of conquest.
The magic here—
Was overwhelming.
"This is it," Salomon murmured.
"What are you even looking at?" Wong snapped, irritation creeping into his voice.
He hated this.
Not being able to see what was right in front of him.
Salomon shoved him down onto a nearby bench.
"Meditate."
"…Here?"
"If you want to see them, yes."
Wong hesitated.
Then—
Closed his eyes.
To anyone watching, it looked ridiculous.
A man sitting cross-legged on a public bench in the middle of a museum.
Salomon quietly took a step away.
I don't know him.
A few moments later—
Wong's eyes snapped open.
And he froze.
They were everywhere.
Massive.
Distorted.
Hovering over the artifacts like parasites feeding on something invisible.
If a single relic carried residual power, it wouldn't have drawn this kind of attention.
But here—
Thousands of artifacts.
Grouped by culture.
By pantheon.
Their resonance amplified everything.
The spirits fed on it.
"Do you see them now?" Salomon asked quietly.
Wong nodded slowly.
"…Yeah."
He raised a hand instinctively—
Then stopped.
Even reaching toward them felt dangerous.
"…We just left them like this?" Wong said, voice tight. "All this time?"
"No."
Salomon's gaze shifted forward.
"They're being controlled."
He made a subtle hand signal.
"Can you still fight?"
Wong frowned.
"What do you—"
"Hungry again, are we?"
A voice cut in.
An old woman stood nearby.
Wide-brimmed navy hat. A ribbon of orange-red wrapped around it, pinned with a pale blue feather. Her coat was thick, dark, lined with soft fur that brushed against the pearl earrings at her ears.
Her hand extended.
A ring gleamed on her finger.
"You can feed," she said softly.
"But afterward… back to sleep."
She was standing directly behind two unsuspecting visitors.
Neither of them noticed her.
Only Salomon and Wong could see her.
The spirits surged.
Before they could reach their targets—
A beam of radiant energy cut through one of them.
The creature twisted, its form stretching in silent agony before collapsing.
The old woman's expression snapped.
"Who's there?!"
Salomon didn't move.
Wong leaned in slightly.
"…You want me to hit her?"
"…Not ideal," Wong muttered. "She's an old lady."
"Too late for that," Salomon said flatly. "You already lost the element of surprise."
A pause.
"Protect me."
"Hey—ma'am—" Wong started.
A blast of magic knocked him flat.
"I can smell it," she said, voice sharp with disgust. "Foreign magic."
Power poured from her ring, spreading across the floor like liquid light.
The spirits followed.
They advanced.
"I am Emoji Tutor," she declared, her voice rising. "Fourth-generation guardian."
"These fools cannot see what I protect them from."
Her presence swelled.
Her conviction absolute.
"I keep these heretical spirits contained. I prevent people like you from waking them."
Salomon stepped back, dodging the creeping magic.
Wong scrambled up and planted himself in front of him, fists raised.
The spirits closed in.
"Your fists won't do anything," Salomon said calmly.
He reached into his pouch and threw a handful of silver dust across Wong's body.
It dissolved into light.
"Go," Salomon said. "Take the ring. They can't touch you now."
"…You sure about that?"
"Go."
Wong took a step forward.
The fear that had been clawing at his mind—
Gone.
"Ms. Tutor—" he tried.
"Miss," she snapped.
"…Miss Tutor," Wong corrected. "We're not here to wake anything."
"That's not our goal," Salomon added.
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're not sorcerers?"
Wong hesitated.
"Don't bother," Salomon cut in. "She controls them by feeding them souls."
His voice sharpened.
"Where do you think those come from?"
That was enough.
Wong moved.
He charged.
Dodged.
Forced his way through the swarm—
—and hit an invisible barrier.
Magic surged up from the floor, binding him.
Forcing him down to his knees.
Emoji Tutor smiled.
She had faced intruders before.
Small-time practitioners.
People who barely understood what they were dealing with.
None of them had ever stood a chance.
And she clearly believed this would be no different.
Salomon exhaled slowly.
Then—
Reached into his pouch.
He swallowed.
A grasshopper leg.
I need to learn material-free casting. Immediately.
The disgust didn't break his focus.
The spell completed.
He moved.
Up onto the bench—
Then—
Jumped.
Three times his normal distance.
He landed—
And accelerated.
A knife flashed from his hand.
Straight toward her.
It never reached.
A surge of power exploded outward.
Salomon was thrown back.
Hard.
The world spun.
His head slammed into the ground—
And everything went black.
For a moment—
There was nothing.
Then—
Pain.
A ringing in his skull like something had detonated behind his eyes.
He couldn't think.
Couldn't focus.
Then—
Hands grabbed him.
Wong.
Dragged him upright.
Vision returned in fragments.
Half-dark.
Half-distorted.
Everyone around them—
Their souls flickered faintly, slipping out of sync with their bodies.
"What now?" Wong asked.
Salomon blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
Grinned.
"Hit her."