Nuriel adjusted his collar, eyes glancing left and right as he stood at the station. His left arm was sore from gripping his briefcase for so long, and his body was screaming for a chair.
He endured it in silence. He massaged his shoulder, coaxing the stiffness away. A minute later, a steam train appeared on the horizon, chugging forward. Its thick black smoke clouded the air above, and a deafening hiss erupted from its brakes.
"Owhen City! Owhen!" The train workers shouted into the air.
Boarding the train, Nuriel settled into his seat by the window, adjusting himself for comfort. He placed his briefcase upright between his legs. After a subtle glance around, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Quietly and carefully, he opened it just enough to peek inside.
Three golden eagles, five Allied Silvers, and sixteen Union Copper paper notes, accompanied by a handful of piso coins.
'Quite a lot.'"Quite little..." Nuriel accidentally muttered.
Slapping his forehead, he let out a sigh of disappointment before muttering under his breath.
'This new body might be too stubborn. Just accept your new owner!'
It wasn't an impressive hoard in size, but the value his savings held could support a modest life for a full year—just for himself.
Finding everything intact, he shut the wallet. Yet something bothered him. He took one more look. Then another. Only when he was completely sure did he bury it deep in his pocket, tapping his leg through the fabric repeatedly to confirm its presence.
'Alright. You win.'
The trip had cost him seven and a half Allied Silvers, meals and drinks included. Nuriel stared out the window, silently taking in the view outside.
'Perhaps I should've gone for first class…'
He entertained the thought briefly, then shut it down with a clenched fist pressed to his forehead.
'You're still an aristocrat, Nuriel! Have some pride in your spending habits!'
Tired, Nuriel pressed his forehead against the window. He squeezed his briefcase between his legs and shoved his hand deep into the pocket where his wallet sat. Shuffling closer to the cabin wall, he wedged himself into the corner.
As this was an overnight train ride, he took the chance to get a quick nap and to test whether the Scepter System only activated while he slept.
He closed his mind to any distracting thoughts, letting the tiredness soothe his body before sinking into the abyss.
Without the noise of a fervent crowd of churchgoers bugging his focus, the transition was seamless.When he woke up, he was met with the dark sky.
The space had a cold atmosphere, with faint stars glittering above but not in an overwhelming way.
Despite the lack of light sources, everything was decently bathed in a soft glow.
There was no ground in any direction, yet he stood atop nothingness.
Before long, a floating screen appeared before him:
[Recognized Authority Key]
[Accessing user credentials]
[Welcome, Nuriel!]
He couldn't help but let a sleepy grin rise across his face. It was akin to seeing your child walk for the first time.
Nuriel didn't waste a second. He wouldn't know how long he had before waking or worse, if someone decided to stick their nasty fingers in his pockets. That would wake him instantly.
"Access the global—no..."
Global wasn't the right word. After all, during its creation, the system was only set to function on planet Earth before being distributed elsewhere. A different keyword was needed.
"Access the universal database."
. . .
[Unable to access the universal database]
[Troubleshooting]
[Unable to troubleshoot]
[Troubleshooting Scepter network]
[Unable to troubleshoot]
[Troubleshooting system]
[Confirmed: Processing power is below minimum standard]
[Please state another request]
Nuriel blankly stared at the screen. His face could only be described as a parent looking at their child's abysmal report card. Though his expression didn't shift, the way his eyes burned into the screen was terrifying.
[...]
'Could the receivers be broken? How much time has passed? A Scepter always has an internal clock… I'm confident that still works fine.'
Letting out a sigh, Nuriel continued browsing the Scepter System's profile.
"Check internal clock. Time from first creation till now."
. . .
The silence was deafening. Nuriel worried that the clock was also dysfunctional or perhaps the reply was just slow because the processor was performing poorly. Seconds passed. He was about to give up when a screen suddenly flashed before his eyes:
[104,732 years, 2 months, 3 weeks, 5 days, and 18 seconds]
[104,732 years, 2 months, 3 weeks, 5 days, and 19 seconds]
[104,732 years, 2 months, 3 weeks, 5 days, and 20 seconds]
Nuriel turned away instantly.
'It wasn't a visual bug… right?'
He turned back slowly, forcing himself to look.
[104,732 years, 2 months, 3 weeks, 5 days, and 27 seconds]
[104,732 years, 2 m…]
The screen continued updating.
Nuriel broke into a cold sweat as he processed every possible implication of what he was seeing.
"More than a hundred…"
At that point, his expression and skin turned pale as snow. He gulped and collected himself, finally sitting down in the nothingness.
'That much time has passed… Is this what it feels like to be small before the universe?'
Looking at it now, his anger toward the one who had killed him shrank beneath the cold fact before him.
Before sinking into philosophical thought, a flicker of light entered his eyes. Standing up, he posed another question.
"Do you have access regarding the Steel Witch in your internal memory?"
[Yes]
Before accessing it, he stopped himself.
If it's really that parasite behind the Steel Witch, she'd definitely know Nuriel was snooping where his nose shouldn't be.
The repercussions could be severe. Regardless of what Nuriel once knew of her, a hundred thousand years had passed. Would she even remember his minuscule existence? Would she even care?
Nuriel tensed his expression. Back then, he held a high-ranking position as the leader of the Scepter System development team, then he reminded himself of something he followed.
The world is cruel to the weak-witted.
"Show all available data."
[Accessing request…]
[Retrieving all available data related to: Steel Witch]
. . .
[WARNING: Data may be fragmented due to degradation over time]
[Profile: The Steel Witch]
Alias: Steel Witch, Iron Saintess, The Dark Blight
Origin: First documented appearance 47,320 years after system initialization
Class: Deity-Class Entity
Recorded Appearances:
- Spectral forges in the ruins of Ekhrad
- Atop the Fallen Citadel during the Siege of Arlantis
- Within the [UNKNOWN], marked as a "Saint with forbidden knowledge"
Scepter Correlation:
– Last known to interface directly with Scepter Systems during the final phase of Project [UNKNOWN]
– Referred to internally as "The Catalyst Unit" by system engineers
– Suspected to be directly responsible for the shutdown of central relay nodes during [UNKNOWN]
Last Known Status:
– Dormant state detected within [UNKNOWN]
[End of data packet]
[Additional data corrupted. Attempt restoration?]
"Yes."
[Attempting data restoration…]
[Data restoration failed. Attempti—]
[WARNING!]
. . .
[Unknown entity entering the server!]
[Commencing temporary shutdown]
"!!!"
Nuriel woke up in a cold sweat. If the train had been packed like the morning rush, he would've been labeled a lunatic with the expression he was making.
Seeing as nothing had changed, he forced himself to calm down. But his panting felt like a boulder crushing his chest, and the racing thoughts weighed on his soul.
'Ekhrad… Arlantis… Saint with forbidden knowledge… The Catalyst Unit…' Nuriel repeated the phrases. The helplessness of not understanding, not even knowing where to begin, struck the deepest fear in him.
After all, the most powerful fear is the unknown.
'What was that trying to enter the server?' Nuriel wondered, but couldn't form a concrete answer. 'It said temporary shutdown so this won't be the end of the scepter.'
Finally calmed down, and without thinking, his hand clenched.
Still there.
He slipped his wallet out and flipped it open under the dim ceiling lamp. Three golden eagles, five Allied Silvers, and sixteen Union copper paper notes, accompanied by a handful of piso coins. He double-checked, then tucked it back into his pocket, stroking the fabric once more.
He let out a chuckle and a sigh.
'Unbelievable. If only the old Nuriel knew what I was going through, he'd give me a break with this nonsense.'
Nuriel clenched his teeth and knit his brows.
'Calling her a parasite seems petty now. She's way older than me.'
The night was young. The stars were barely visible, drowned out by the electric brilliance of the city. He could see it from the window, towers lit like torches, streets webbed in golden trails of gaslight and engine lamps.
Grabbing his briefcase, he made his way toward the dining car, navigating through the thinning cabins. Most passengers had already drifted into sleep, some cars entirely empty save for the low hum of overhead bulbs.
When he opened the last door, a warm, fragrant breeze greeted him. The food car was styled like a high-end restaurant, with polished wood trims, velvet-cushioned seats, and wide windows offering panoramic views. For second class, it was almost decadent.
Scanning the room, his eyes caught two figures seated near the far window, both bearing the insignia of Owhen University: a silver dragon etched in metal. One wore a modest suit, but the other drew attention, a beautiful woman with a pointed witch's hat and an ornate dress that shimmered faintly under the dining lamps. They shared the same blonde hair and blue eyes.
'They must be professors.' Without hesitation, Nuriel made his way across the car.
"May the Witch bless you," Nuriel greeted, offering a slight bow.
"May she bless your mind and soul," the woman replied, her tone brisk but not unkind, clearly startled by his sudden appearance. "May I ask who you are?"
"Nuriel Malachi," he answered smoothly. "I'm one of the newly appointed librarians. I couldn't help but notice your insignias." His voice dripped with practiced charm.
The man beside her let out a hearty laugh. "A newbie! Thank the Witch, I've finally got someone to share my worries with!" He rose and gave an exaggerated bow. "Name's Edward Mass, and this is my older sister, Sayla Mass. Please, take a seat."
Nuriel obliged, gently setting down his briefcase as he joined them.
Edward wasted no time launching into conversation. His voice was resonant, the kind that turned heads in a classroom.
"I'll be teaching magic engineering. It's my first time working at a university, honestly. I was half-certain I blew the interviews, but thankfully" he paused, clearing his throat. "Thankfully, I've got my sister here as a backer." He flashed a playful grin.
Sayla let out a tired sigh. "Why would my own brother rat me out as a corrupt educator?" Her words were dry, but her expression betrayed amusement. "I teach witchcraft, as you can likely tell. Unlike my dear brother, I can watch what comes out of my mouth."
"As expected of my sister!" Edward said, oblivious to the sarcasm.
'What a duo…' Nuriel thought, quietly observing their dynamic. Their banter was effortless, clearly honed over years of siblinghood.
Eventually, they turned their attention back to him.
"It'll also be my first time working as a librarian," Nuriel admitted, offering a smile to mask his tension. "Honestly, I feel a bit pressured."
Edward studied him. Owhen University didn't hire random novices, something about this young man must have stood out. Regardless of whether it was connections, talent, or sheer luck, Edward decided to throw him a bone.
"How about this," he said, leaning in, "I'll make my students use the shelf closest to your station for required reading. Should help you rack up some merit points."
Nuriel gave a polite chuckle, patting his chest. "I won't forget this arrangement."
Their conversation carried on, winding through anecdotes and professional expectations. For a moment, Nuriel even forgot he had come for dinner.
. . .
"!!!" "!!!" "!!!"
The three froze as the dining car shuddered beneath them, glasses clinking, silverware rattling faintly in their trays.