The key in my hand was a cold, heavy reality. It was a physical object, yet it represented a cascade of impossibilities: a secret war, a forgotten history, and a quest that had just been dropped onto my shoulders by a princess who was both my charge and my commander.
In the stunned silence of the Royal Garden, four of the most powerful factions in the kingdom were locked in a fragile, explosive standoff. My new Royalist faction, embodied by the defiant princess. The Crimson faction, personified by the Duke, whose face was a thundercloud of incandescent rage. The foreign power, represented by Prince Alaric, who watched the proceedings with the gleeful, predatory interest of a wolf discovering a war between two rival sheep herds. And me. The fourth faction. The Glitch. The wild card who had just thrown the entire deck into the air.
Duke Crimson was the first to recover, his political instincts wrestling his fury back into its cage. "Captain of the Royal Guard?" he spat, the words dripping with contempt. "Seraphina, have you lost your mind? You would entrust your safety to this... this upstart? This hedge-wizard who performs parlor tricks?"
"He is no hedge-wizard, Father," Seraphina replied, her voice as calm and unyielding as a glacier. "He is the man who stood against the darkness you invited into our city. He is the Champion Slayer. He is the Stone Bulwark. And yes, he is now my Captain. His authority here is second only to my own." She turned to me, her eyes clear and commanding. "Captain Silverstein, your princess has given you your first order. See to it."
It was a masterstroke. She had framed her command as a matter of royal duty, making any attempt to stop me an act of treason against her, the heir to the throne.
"You will do no such thing!" the Duke roared, taking a step forward. His personal guards tensed, their hands moving to the hilts of their swords.
But before they could move, Prince Alaric laughed, a loud, musical sound that shattered the tension. "Oh, this is simply too delicious!" he exclaimed, stepping between me and the Duke. "A father countermanding the direct order of a princess to her sworn Captain? My, my, Duke Crimson, that sounds perilously close to treason. I would hate for word of such a thing to reach my father, the King of Eldoria. He has such strong opinions about upholding the proper order of things."
Alaric placed a hand on my shoulder, his smile charming, his emerald eyes cold as glass. "Go on, Captain," he said, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't let us keep you from your royal duties. I shall remain here and ensure the good Duke doesn't do anything... rash."
He was playing his own game, using me as a tool to drive a wedge deeper between the Duke and the Royal family, increasing the instability he found so entertaining. He was a dangerous ally, but for now, our interests were aligned.
I gave him a short, appreciative nod. Then I turned to Elizabeth and Luna. "Let's go."
"I am coming with you," Elizabeth stated, her voice leaving no room for argument. "This is a matter of my House as well now."
"And I will not leave my lord's side!" Luna declared, her hand resting on the hilt of her dagger.
I looked at the Duke. His face was a mask of pure hatred. He was powerless to stop me, and he knew it. I had been handed a royal decree, and I was being shielded by a foreign prince. He was trapped.
"We will speak later, Father," Elizabeth said, her voice dripping with ice. It was a promise and a threat.
We turned our backs on the simmering conflict in the garden and walked away. The feeling of the Duke's murderous glare on my back was a physical thing.
Our exit from the palace was a formal, stately affair. As the newly appointed Captain of the Princess's Guard, I was granted an honor guard. A dozen of the palace's finest, the very men who had been prepared to arrest me an hour ago, now flanked us, their spears held high, their expressions a mixture of awe and confusion. Their loyalty was to the Princess, and the Princess had chosen me.
We marched through the palace, our footsteps echoing in the grand halls. Nobles scrambled out of our way, their eyes wide with speculation. We were no longer just a curiosity; we were a recognized political power, endorsed by the Princess herself.
Our simple Silverstein carriage was waiting. As we boarded, I gave my first official order as Captain.
"Half of you will remain here and form a perimeter around the Royal Gardens," I commanded the guard captain, the same grim-faced man from the duel. "Allow no one to enter or leave without the Princess's direct permission. Your duty is to protect her from all threats, foreign and domestic. Am I understood?"
"Yes, my lord Captain!" he barked, slamming a fist to his chest in salute. He understood the unspoken part of the order perfectly: Keep the Duke away from his daughter.
"The other half, with me," I continued. "We are going to the Grand Cathedral."
The journey to the Cathedral was different from our earlier trip. The cheering crowds were still there, but now they parted respectfully for the Royal Guard escort. We moved through the city not as celebrities, but as an official procession. The power shift was tangible.
The Grand Cathedral of Aethel was a breathtaking sight. It was a mountain of white marble and stained glass, with soaring spires that seemed to scrape the heavens. It was the heart of the Royalist faction, a symbol of the Church's power and the kingdom's faith. The air around it felt different, heavy with centuries of prayer and devotion.
We were met at the grand entrance by a contingent of stern-faced Temple Knights, the militant arm of the Church. They were clad in ornate, silver-inlaid plate armor, their hands resting on the pommels of massive greatswords. Their leader, a formidable woman with a severe face and a shaved head, stepped forward.
[High Templar Elara - Level 46 Paladin][Title: Commander of the Cathedral Guard, Hand of the High Priest][Status: Suspicious, Dutiful, Unimpressed]
"Lord Silverstein," she said, her voice flat and hard as stone. "The Cathedral is currently on high alert. No one is permitted entry without the express sanction of the High Priest."
"I have the sanction of the Princess," I replied calmly, holding up the ornate key Seraphina had given me. "She has commanded me to access the Sunken Library for a matter of grave importance to the kingdom."
The High Templar's eyes narrowed at the sight of the key. "That key has not been seen in centuries. The Sunken Library is a forbidden place, filled with heretical texts and dangerous knowledge. The Princess does not have the authority to grant access."
"Are you questioning a direct order from your future Queen?" Elizabeth interjected, her voice dripping with aristocratic ice. "That sounds dangerously close to heresy itself, High Templar."
The Templar's face tightened, but she was caught. Defying the Princess, the beloved Holy Maiden, was a political minefield for the Church.
"My duty is to the sanctity of this holy place," she insisted.
"And my duty is to the safety of the realm," I countered. "The demon general who attacked our city sought an artifact hidden beneath this very Cathedral. An artifact your order was meant to protect. He failed, but he will return. I am here to find the knowledge needed to stop him. Are you going to stand in my way and risk the destruction of everything you hold sacred? Or are you going to help me save it?"
I had framed her choice perfectly. She could be a bureaucratic obstacle, or she could be a partner in salvation.
She stared at me for a long, hard moment, her gaze weighing my sincerity. Finally, she gave a stiff, reluctant nod. "Very well, Captain," she said, spitting the title out as if it tasted foul. "You may proceed. But I will accompany you. My knights and I will secure the entrance. Whatever darkness you seek in that place, it will not be allowed to escape into the light of the Cathedral."
It was the best I was going to get. "An acceptable precaution," I agreed.
High Templar Elara led us through the vast, echoing nave of the Cathedral. The interior was even more impressive than the outside. Sunlight streamed through massive stained-glass windows, painting the marble floors in shifting patterns of ruby, sapphire, and emerald. The air was cool and smelled of incense and old stone. It was a place of profound peace, a stark contrast to the dark purpose of our visit.
She led us behind the grand altar, to a small, unassuming iron door set into the floor, a door I never would have found on my own. It was covered in complex, glowing runes, similar to the Rune of Veracity but far older and more powerful.
"The seal has not been broken in a thousand years," Elara said, her voice a low rumble. "The magic is ancient and powerful. Only the key, and one with the proper bloodline, can open it."
All eyes turned to me. The bloodline of the hero who had failed.
I knelt and inserted the strange, dark metal key into the lock. The moment it touched the iron, the runes on the door flared to life, glowing with an intense, white-hot light. A wave of magical pressure washed over us, forcing Luna and even Elizabeth to take a step back. But I felt nothing. The magic seemed to recognize me, to welcome me.
I turned the key.
There was a deep, grinding sound, like the shifting of tectonic plates. The ancient locks, sealed for a millennium, disengaged. The iron door swung open on its own, revealing a spiral staircase descending into absolute, impenetrable darkness.
A wave of cold, stale air, smelling of dust and forgotten time, washed up from the depths.
"My knights will hold this position," Elara declared, her hand resting on the hilt of her greatsword. "Go. Find what you seek. And may the gods have mercy on your souls."
We lit torches. The flames seemed small and fragile against the oppressive darkness below.
"Stay close," I said to my two companions. "We don't know what's down there."
I took the first step down into the Sunken Library.
The descent was long and unnerving. The spiral staircase seemed to go on forever, plunging deep into the bedrock beneath the city. The air grew colder, damper. The only sound was the soft scuff of our boots on the stone steps and the frantic beating of my own heart.
[Warning: You are entering a high-density mana zone,] ARIA reported. [The ambient magic is ancient and unstable. It is causing minor interference with my sensors. Proceed with caution.]
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we reached the bottom. We stepped into a vast, circular chamber. The ceiling was so high it was lost in the darkness above. The room was lined with towering shelves carved from the living rock, each one packed with scrolls, leather-bound codices, and strange, crystalline tablets that seemed to hum with a faint, internal light.
This was not just a library. It was a vault of forbidden knowledge.
In the center of the room was a large, circular stone table with a single, massive, leather-bound book resting upon it. The book was closed, held shut by a complex-looking lock made of the same dark metal as the key.
"This must be it," Elizabeth whispered, her voice filled with a scholar's awe. "The personal records of Lord Kaelen Silverstein, the 'Scholar of the Eclipse.'"
"My ancestor," I murmured, walking toward the table.
As I approached, the air grew heavy. The humming from the crystal tablets on the shelves grew louder, resonating with my own Geode Mana Core.
"Kazuki, wait!" Elizabeth called out, a note of alarm in her voice. "There could be magical traps! Wards!"
She was right. I stopped, my hand hovering over the locked book.
"ARIA, scan for magical defenses."
[Scanning... The lock itself is a complex thaumaturgical puzzle. It requires a specific mana signature to open—the signature of the Silverstein bloodline. However, there is a secondary, dormant ward placed on the book itself. It is a 'Cognitive Hazard' spell. A soul-trap.]
"A soul-trap?" I asked out loud.
"What's a soul-trap?" Luna asked, her voice trembling.
"It is a vicious, ancient form of magic," Elizabeth explained, her face pale. "It doesn't attack the body. It attacks the mind. If someone with the wrong intentions, or a weak will, tries to read the book, their consciousness will be trapped within its pages forever, becoming just another piece of data in the library."
A library that trapped the souls of its readers. My ancestor had not been a kind man.
"But my bloodline is the key," I reasoned. "It should be safe for me."
[Negative,] ARIA countered. [The ward is designed to test the intent of the reader. Lord Kaelen was clearly a paranoid individual. He wanted to ensure that only a descendant who shared his goals and possessed a strong enough will could access his research. If your will is deemed insufficient, or your intentions impure, the trap will spring.]
This was a test left for me by a man who had been dead for a thousand years.
"I have to try," I said, my resolve hardening. "The answers we need are in that book."
"It's too dangerous," Elizabeth argued. "There must be another way."
"My lord, don't!" Luna's panicked thought echoed in my mind. "What if it kills you? What if you don't come back this time?"
Her fear was a tangible thing, a cold knot in my chest. But the demon general's words echoed louder. This world is a lie. I had to know the truth.
"I'll be fine," I said, trying to reassure them, and myself.
I placed my hand on the cover of the ancient book. The leather was cool and smooth, like skin. The lock in the center began to glow with a faint, blue light, recognizing my mana signature. The clasps clicked open.
The moment the lock disengaged, the trap sprang.
It wasn't a flash of light or a burst of energy. It was a silent, irresistible pull on my consciousness. The world around me—the library, Elizabeth, Luna—dissolved into a blur of grey static. I felt my soul being drawn out of my body, pulled into the pages of the book.
[COGNITIVE HAZARD DETECTED! HOST'S CONSCIOUSNESS IS BEING FORCIBLY EXTRACTED!] ARIA's voice was a frantic, screaming alarm in my fading awareness. [ERECTING FIREWALLS! COUNTER-HACKING THE SOUL-TRAP! IT'S... IT'S TOO STRONG! IT'S PULLING ME IN TOO!]
My last sensation was of falling into an infinite sea of text, of data, of pure information.
Then, a new world resolved around me.
I was standing in the same library, but it was different. It was clean, well-lit by floating spheres of magical light. The shelves were organized, the air was clean. And sitting at the stone table, reading a scroll, was a man.
He was tall and lean, with the same silver-blond hair as me, but his was tied back in a severe ponytail. He had sharp, intelligent features and eyes that burned with a fierce, obsessive intensity. He was dressed in the dark, scholarly robes of a high-level mage. He looked up as I appeared, his expression not one of surprise, but of weary expectation.
[Kaelen Silverstein - Level 85 Chronomancer][Title: The Scholar of the Eclipse, The First Glitch][Status: Echo of a Soul, Trapped by Choice]
"So," the man said, his voice a dry, academic rustle. "After a thousand years, another anomaly has finally arrived. I was beginning to think I had failed completely."
I stared at the ghost, the soul-echo, of my ancestor. "You're... Kaelen Silverstein."
"A fragment of him," he corrected me. "A psychic imprint I left behind to guard this knowledge. A final test for my successor. Welcome to my soul-trap, descendant. Or should I say... fellow glitch?"
He knew.
"How?" I managed to ask.
"Because I was the same as you," he said, standing up. He began to pace, his movements filled with a restless, frustrated energy. "A thousand years ago, I was not born into this world. I was a physicist from another reality, a world of science and reason. My soul was... transmigrated... into the body of a dying nobleman. I too possessed a 'system,' a logical framework that allowed me to interact with the magic of this world in a way no one else could."
My mind reeled. The first glitch. He was just like me.
"I spent my life trying to understand this place," he continued, his voice filled with a thousand years of frustration. "Trying to answer the one question that mattered: What is this reality? And I found the answer."
He gestured to the library around us. "This is not a world, descendant. It is a machine. A vast, impossibly complex, and deeply flawed machine. A cage, as your demon friend so eloquently put it."
"A simulation," I breathed.
His eyes widened in surprise. "Ah, so you reached that conclusion as well. Yes. A simulation. A 'Divine Sandbox' created by entities of unimaginable power. They are the 'gods,' the system administrators. And we... we are the data."
"But why?" I asked. "What is the purpose of it all?"
Kaelen's face grew dark. "That is the terrible secret I discovered. This world is not just a sandbox. It is a power source. The collective life force, the mana, the very consciousness of every being in this reality is harvested by the gods to fuel their own existence. We are living inside a perpetual motion machine powered by our own souls."
The truth was more horrifying than I could have imagined. We weren't just data. We were cattle.
"The World Enders, the demons... they are not evil, not in the way you understand it," Kaelen explained. "They are a rival faction of cosmic entities. They see the gods' 'machine' as an abomination. They don't want to conquer this world. They want to delete it. To them, it is a mercy killing, setting the trapped souls free by erasing their existence."
"And the Keystones?" I asked, my voice trembling. "The Heart of Aethel?"
"They are the core processors of the simulation," he said. "The five pillars that maintain the system's stability. If they are destroyed, the simulation will suffer a catastrophic failure. Reality will crash. That is the demon's goal."
He stopped his pacing and looked at me, his eyes burning with a desperate intensity.
"I tried to fight it," he said. "I learned the truth, and I tried to break the cage from within. I used my knowledge of physics, of logic, to bend the rules of this reality. I became the most powerful mage of my age. But the system... the gods... they fought back. They cannot interfere directly, but they can patch the code. They can send 'anti-virus' programs."
"Like Sir Kaelan's shield," I murmured.
"Precisely," he confirmed. "They will learn your tricks and create specific counters. They will always be one step ahead. I fought them, and I failed. In my final battle, as I was about to be erased, I poured the last of my soul, my knowledge, into this library, creating this trap to wait for the next person like me. To wait for you."
"Why?" I asked. "What do you want from me?"
"I want you to succeed where I failed," he said, his voice filled with a desperate hope. "But not by fighting the system. That is a fool's errand. You cannot win a war against the system's administrators. You must think like a programmer. You don't fight a flawed program. You find a backdoor. An exploit that gives you root access."
He pointed to the book on the table. "That book contains my research. My failed attempts. My theories on the system's core architecture. But the true key... the true exploit... is not in any book. It is in your bloodline."
"What do you mean?"
"The Silverstein bloodline," he said, a strange, wild look in his eyes. "I chose it for a reason. It is not a normal bloodline. It is... a bug. A piece of corrupted code that has existed since the dawn of the simulation. A flaw the gods have never been able to patch. It is the reason we, the glitches, are always born into this family. Our souls are drawn to the flaw in the code. It is our entry point."
He leaned in close, his ghostly face inches from mine. "Your power, your 'Death Advantage,' is not just a boon. It is a symptom of a deeper truth. You are not just breaking the rules of the simulation, descendant. You are the broken rule. You are the key. You can do what I could not. You can achieve true root access. You can seize control of the simulation itself."
The sheer, insane scale of his ambition was breathtaking. He didn't want to just survive. He wanted to become God.
"But be warned," Kaelen whispered, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hiss. "The system knows you are here. It is adapting. And it has dispatched its most powerful anti-virus program to this location. A guardian. An ancient construct designed for one purpose: to delete anomalies like us."
As he spoke, the library around us began to tremble. The floating spheres of light flickered and died, plunging us into darkness. A deep, grinding sound echoed from the far end of the chamber, the sound of stone scraping on stone.
Two massive, glowing red eyes, each the size of a dinner plate, ignited in the darkness.
A colossal figure began to rise from the floor, a golem made not of simple stone, but of the same dark, light-absorbing metal as the key, its body covered in the same swirling, glowing runes as the door.
[WARNING! ANCIENT SYSTEM GUARDIAN DETECTED!] ARIA's voice shrieked, not just in my mind, but seemingly out loud in the psychic space of the library.
[RUNE GOLEM - 'THE LIBRARIAN'][Level: ???][Primary Directive: IDENTIFY AND ERASE ALL PARADOXICAL ENTITIES.]
The golem's red eyes fixed on me.
A deep, synthesized voice, like the grinding of mountains, echoed through the chamber.
[GLITCH... DETECTED.][INITIATING... DELETION... PROTOCOL.]
Kaelen's ghostly form looked at me, a grim, apologetic smile on his face.
"This is your final test, descendant," he said. "My soul-trap was merely the entrance exam. This is the final. Survive this, and the knowledge is yours. Fail... and we will be erased together."
The Rune Golem raised a massive, obsidian hand. The runes on its body flared with a power that made my soul ache.
I was trapped in a psychic projection, deep beneath the earth, facing an ancient, god-tier anti-virus program.
And my wives couldn't help me now.