In the absolute silence, time lost all meaning.
Elara didn't know how long she had been sitting in the stone cell. An hour? Three? There were no windows and no clock, only a single, tireless lamp casting a neutral white light.
The unending emotional noise that had tormented her for a lifetime was gone. The silence was so pure she could clearly hear her own heartbeat and the faint, low hum of blood flowing through her veins. This peace she had once dreamed of now felt like an invisible cage, suffocating her.
Her life had been a game of dodging landmines. Antiques that carried the weight of the past, old houses steeped in stories—they were all emotional explosives, and her damned, overly sensitive constitution could always sense their presence before they blew her to pieces. Everything she had done—running a shop that only sold new things, avoiding museums, even distancing herself from crowds—was to stay away from those landmines.
In the end, she had failed. A single, tiny garnet brooch had been enough to completely destroy her world.
This place could block out the noise, but it was also a prison that held her captive. Was she really to live her entire life in a "safe house" like this? To be stored away like a fragile object, never to see the light of day? The thought sent a genuine shiver down her spine.
A more intense panic seized her, this time for Chloe. Her only, her best friend. How was she? That man, Julian, had said he was going to "question" her… what would they do to her?
Elara shut her eyes in pain, the memory of their first meeting surfacing in her mind. It was in a university art history appreciation class. To give the students a more visceral experience, the professor had displayed a medieval silver chalice on a lectern at the front of the hall. The cup reflected the dim light, and Elara, who had only glanced at it from a distance, had collapsed on the spot.
She hadn't even gotten close, let alone touched it. But the relic was saturated with centuries of complex echoes about faith and death, and like an invisible shockwave, it had traversed the entire classroom to strike her with pinpoint accuracy.
Her face had gone pale, her body trembling as she slumped in her chair in full view of everyone. The other students had shot her looks of horror and disgust, whispering amongst themselves. Only Chloe, the girl with hair like fire sitting next to her, had rushed to her side without hesitation. She had shielded Elara with her own body, apologized profusely to the professor, and then half-dragged, half-carried her out of the room.
In the empty hallway, as Chloe helped her catch her breath, she had grumbled with concern, "I told you that you were too stressed from studying for exams. See? It happened again. This isn't your fault at all."
Elara, too weak to explain and too ashamed of her incomprehensible "weird illness," had simply nodded in vague agreement. From that day on, Chloe had become her staunchest ally, convinced that her "illness" was nothing more than a random panic attack triggered by stress. And because of that, Chloe had, without any guard, smilingly handed her a brooch she thought was "pretty."
It was Elara's own concealment that had indirectly led to today's disaster. A sharp, piercing guilt—entirely her own—stabbed at her.
Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door, steady and firm.
The lock let out a crisp click as the door was opened from the outside.
Elara immediately scrambled backward. Standing in the doorway was the powerfully built man who had separated her from Chloe—Marcus.
His expression was even sterner than Julian's, his eyes filled with undisguised hostility and scrutiny. He held a simple tray bearing a glass of water and a piece of bread.
He stepped into the room and placed the tray heavily on the table, the sound jarring in the extreme quiet.
"Eat," he commanded.
"My friend… How is Chloe?" Elara managed to ask, summoning her courage.
Marcus's gaze cut across her like a knife. "That is not a question you should be asking. The only thing you need to do right now is stay here and not cause us any more trouble."
"Trouble?" Elara looked at him, confused. "I was just… sick…"
"Sick?" Marcus let out a short, sharp laugh, as if he'd heard the world's greatest joke. He took a step forward, his tall frame casting an oppressive shadow. "A 'Mundane' who can single-handedly detonate all the Silent Runes on the Archive's perimeter and cause a severe 'Emotional Leak'… you call that being sick? Because of you, Mr. Thorne had to personally intervene to stabilize the situation. You have no idea what you are, let alone how much of a risk your uncontrolled resonant nature poses to us."
Resonant nature? Elara guessed he was referring to her "illness." She was further confused by the string of unfamiliar terms, but she clearly understood the core message of his words: You are dangerous, and you are not welcome here.
"I… I didn't mean to," she tried to argue, her voice trembling with fear.
"Quiet. Eat your food," Marcus cut her off, his disgust unconcealed. "Don't try anything. The walls of this isolation cell are built from obsidian soaked in a Potion of Silence. It severs the resonance between you and the outside world. Behave yourself. It's better for you, and for us."
Without another glance, he turned and strode out of the room.
The door was shut and locked once more.
Elara stared at the bread and water, her appetite gone. The information Marcus had brought weighed on her heart like a boulder. She was a living magnet in a world full of iron filings; the moment she got too close, she would trigger an uncontrollable disaster.
She didn't know how much time had passed before thirst finally compelled her to pick up the glass of water. As she did, the lock clicked again.
Elara's heart leaped into her throat.
The door opened. This time, standing in the doorway was the tall, cold man himself.
Julian walked in, empty-handed. He closed the door but did not lock it. He walked to the table, pulled out the chair opposite Elara, and sat down. In a detached, business-like tone, he said:
"Now. Let's talk about the garnet brooch. Tell me everything you felt when you touched it. Hold nothing back."