The strange Grand Library was silent, save for Malakai's hoarse voice and the breathless pants of Piro, Sophie, and Gareth. The air still smelled of book dust and decaying ancient energy, but now it was mixed with a strange, cold scent emanating from Malakai, who lay on the floor. They stood before the madman, who was now giggling, his ink-black tears still streaming down his cheeks. His eyes, which reflected different timelines, finally focused on Piro.
"Do you hear it?" Malakai whispered, pointing at Piro's pulsing finger. "That finger doesn't just listen. He listens to you too. He is waiting. The Tomb does not wait. The Tomb... is a pause. A point where reality forgets its own name."
Gareth, who was still holding his sword to Malakai's throat, lost his patience. "Speak clearly, prophet. Where is the Tomb? We don't have time for riddles."
Malakai laughed with a voice that made their hair stand on end. "Where is the end of the world? Where does the moon fall into the sea? Where does reality grow thin? There, at the edge of the western continent. But it is not a place. The Tomb will only appear... when the moon stitches the night with its brightest silver light."
Sophie immediately released the Reality Anchor and took out her notebook. "Silver moon... That's not a poetic description. It's arcane-astronomy terminology. It means we have to wait for a specific astral conjunction. When the moon is at its apogee, at its farthest point from the planet's gravity. Its light will be its purest, unaffected by the atmosphere."
"That's nonsense," Gareth growled, his sword trembling slightly. "We don't have time to wait for the moon. We have 72 hours."
Piro looked at Sophie. "How long do we have to wait?"
Sophie quickly flipped through the pages of her book, scanning ancient symbols and star diagrams. "The nearest moon conjunction... three days from now. That gives us a very tight window."
Gareth stepped back, his sword still drawn, but no longer for Malakai. He looked toward the door, as if he had already visualized the escape route. "Three days to reach the edge of the western continent? That's impossible by ordinary train or ship."
"A ship," Piro mumbled, his mind racing. "We could charter one."
"That's too slow," Gareth replied, shaking his head. "We'll use a battle barge. I know there are a few left at the military docks. Those ships are powered by mana and gravity, they can sail through storms. And the captain... Captain Rennick."
Piro frowned. "Wasn't he the one who...?"
"Yes," Gareth cut him off, his voice filled with pain. "The one who aged backward. But the Rennick now... he can't speak, but he can still sail. His soul may be trapped, but his memory of the sea is intact. He is the only one who can get us there in time."
Sophie looked at Malakai, who was now giggling, scratching strange runes on the floor with his finger. "Malakai, what else do we need to know?"
Malakai suddenly pointed at Piro's finger. "The eraser! The eraser that wipes clean the names. Zego... your friend's name will be gone. Unless you... rewrite it. The Tomb is a... transmitter. He will tune Zego to become a part of himself. And you are... the signal booster."
Gareth turned. "I have to get back to the barracks. I'll get another Reality Anchor and some supplies. This is going to be a dangerous journey."
"No," Piro said, his voice firm. "We will not split the team. We will use this Reality Anchor." Piro held the object. "From now on, we move together. No one separates. Contact Lysandra. We need her to come to the docks."
Sophie took out her communication crystal and held it to her head. "Lysandra? We found him. We have a lead. Astalon's Tomb is at the edge of the western continent. It appears under the clearest moonlight, which will happen in three days. We're going to the military docks. Meet us there."
Lysandra's raspy voice came through the crystal. "Three days?! That's too rushed. The corruption on Piro's finger will be very dangerous. I'll try to make a stronger serum, but it will require rare ingredients."
"Lysandra," Piro pleaded, his voice showing desperation. "We're going. Will you come?"
There was a long silence on the other end. Then, Lysandra's calm voice was heard. "Of course. But don't touch anything there. I'll bring medical equipment, including some bandages embroidered with anti-corruption runes. This will be a brutal journey, Piro. Be prepared."
Piro looked back at Malakai, who was now lying on the floor, asleep, the runes still glowing on his wrists. "We'll be prepared," Piro whispered, more to himself. He looked at his hand, feeling the increasingly intense pulse. He knew the journey would not be easy, but he had a team.