Éon stood up, his body still throbbing from the fight.
Ereon pushed the temple doors with a firm motion, the sound echoing heavily through the sanctuary.
The scene that unfolded before them was terrifying.
Bodies scattered across the steps, the floor covered in blood. The walls, once adorned with prayers and sacred symbols, were stained red.
Even the emblem of the Twenty-Four had been defiled — the gold replaced by dark veins of dried blood.
Above the altar, suspended in the air, was the bishop.
Ereon raised his hand, and the body descended slowly until it touched the ground.
He stared at him coldly.
"Now that I've dealt with the unwanted guest…" he said in a calm but sharp tone. "We may proceed."
The bishop, trembling, looked around — his eyes wide, his body drenched in sweat and fear.
His shaking hands searched for something among the torn robes, until he turned to the altar and extended a small fragment of metal, engraved with ancient runes.
A dry crack echoed.
The ground trembled slightly, and the altar began to move, dragging itself over hidden rails. The sound of stone against stone reverberated through the columns, opening a dark gap behind the structure.
The torchlight flickered, as if the temple breathed along with the movement.
The bishop took a step back, his voice trembling:
"N-no one has ever… gone down this path without direct order from the high clerics."
Ereon stared at him in silence for a moment, then replied coldly:
"Then consider this a new order."
The bishop went down first, carrying a torch. Ereon and Éon followed, their footsteps echoing on the damp walls.
The air soon became dense, almost liquid.
Each step went deeper than the previous, until the staircase ended in a stone corridor covered in ancient runes — some erased, others still pulsing with faint bluish lights.
When the tunnel opened, what they saw beneath the temple was not just a hideout. It was a sanctuary.
Tables covered with scrolls and books in forgotten languages; ancient armors side by side with modern weapons; flags of already extinct countries and symbols none of them recognized.
The sound of torch fire reflected on the blades and glass vials. Everything seemed… alive.
Ereon walked to one of the tables. His fingers hovered over a set of yellowed pages, scribbled in lines of bluish ink.
"This type of writing is the same Teseu taught you, Éon."
The brother approached, leaning his face over the paper.
There was a central word, clear, in crooked and familiar letters: "Brazil."
He began flipping through the documents until he found another word, printed in firm strokes: "America."
"Yes…" murmured Éon. "At the orphanage, the director taught us this language. He said that, before the Fall, it was a universal tongue."
Ereon picked up another document and flipped through it. The writing was old but legible enough to reveal a map. Red lines crossed the continent like scars.
"Humans…" he murmured, almost to himself. "Always find a way to survive their own ruin."
"What do you mean?" asked Éon, with the calm of someone trying to follow his brother's reasoning when he dives too deep.
Ereon lifted a folded parchment, showing a word printed in large letters: "Democrats."
"That." he said, his tone turning cold. "A human faction. They are behind the rise of the Abyssaes… and seem to have survived somehow." A short pause. "If these records are real, they are planning something big. Something that can sweep the empires from within."
Éon remained silent, his gaze fixed on the runes of the walls.
"A Revolt…" he murmured. He looked at the rows of recreated weapons, the runes carved into them pulsing in red.
Ereon nodded, slowly.
"Not just one." His voice was a thread of ice. "A series of them. Across all empires." He closed the parchments and handed them to Éon. "The weapons stay. The documents, we'll take."
Éon hesitated.
"Wouldn't it be better to destroy them? If what's written is true, this is dangerous even for the emperors… and for us."
Ereon looked at him sideways, a brief, almost imperceptible smile.
"No. If we know what's coming, we can prepare." he said with conviction. "What's hidden here… can give us an advantage."
He paused.
"And maybe… a choice, when the empire begins to crumble."
The sound of crackling torches broke the silence.
The flame flickered, and for a moment it seemed that the shadows whispered among themselves.
Éon looked at his brother and saw something different — a new weight behind the cold control.
Ereon took a deep breath, his tone returning to habitual restraint.
"Gather everything. And erase the runes at the entrance." he said, already walking toward the stairs. "If what's written here is true… the North is about to awaken an enemy that not even the gods understood."
But before leaving, something in the corner of the room caught his attention.
An incubator, almost hidden under a dark cloth, pulsed with a faint light.
Ereon approached the incubator, his gaze firm and calculating.
Something inside it pulsed, weak but alive — enough to draw his attention.
He smiled, almost imperceptibly.
"And we'll take this too." he said, his voice low and full of intent.
Éon took one last look at the weapons, measuring every detail, before extending his hands toward the incubator.
The shadows around it trembled, rippling as if they had a life of their own, and slowly engulfed it, consuming it completely.
Without hesitation, Éon threw the documents in the same direction. They vanished into the darkness, and the residual energy glowed for an instant before disappearing.
With a silent gesture, he followed Ereon and the bishop back, the staircase and corridor now completely empty of secrets.
As they left the temple, they found Karna already in the courtyard, the girl still wrapped over his shoulders and gagged.
Ereon and Éon stared at him in silence.
Karna raised his hand in a gesture of surrender.
"I had no other choice," he said, his breath heavy. "Look… she wouldn't stop biting and kicking."
His eyes turned to the bishop, who remained pale, wounded, and seized by dread.
"Well… looks like we're done here." said Karna, his voice tense. "The question is… how are we going to deal with this now?"
Ereon smiled, cold, calculating.
"Don't worry." he said, and stepped away to the center of the courtyard. His eyes began to glow.
Éon watched him, cautious.
"Holy shit…" murmured Karna, before realizing what was coming. "Don't tell me…"
Ereon raised his hands, the filaments of dark energy pulsing, the air vibrating and the magnetic sound spreading through the distorted space.
The temple walls began to creak, cracks appearing in the ancient stones as a dull noise spread through the courtyard.
The entire structure trembled, and the bodies of stone and marble seemed ready to give way under the weight of concentrated power.
The air grew heavy, as if every breath was being sucked by the Void itself.
Ereon kept the calm smile, but every movement announced the imminent destruction: the temple was about to collapse completely.
The temple couldn't withstand it. Ancient stones broke loose from the walls, crashing with a roar onto the blood-soaked floor.
The columns cracked, spreading dust and fragments that made the air vibrate with every impact.
The ceiling collapsed in dull snaps, throwing pieces of wood and rubble that mixed with the smell of broken stone and twisted iron.
Karna backed away instinctively, protecting the girl on his shoulders.
"Shit…" he said, his voice full of tension. "This is going to fall on us!"
The other orphans who had approached the courtyard panicked, running in all directions.
Screams echoed among the falling stones.
Ereon remained in the center of the courtyard, his eyes glowing intensely, as if darkness itself obeyed him.
When the last stones fell, he raised his face and looked at Karna and the orphans.
"Don't worry," he said, a cold smile curving his lips. "I already have a good justification for when my dear Grandma and the High Priest return."
The noise of the collapse still echoed, and from the ruins unknown voices emerged, approaching along the temple path.
Ereon turned to Éon. His twin brother's gaze met his, deep, restrained. Éon whispered:
"Inverted world…"
At that same instant, a growing shadow enveloped them all. The stones and dust seemed to freeze around as they were swallowed by the Void.
The people in the courtyard kept approaching, confused, frightened, trying to understand what had happened.
But they moved invisible to everyone's eyes, silent steps leaving no trace.
The trio — Ereon, Éon, and Karna with the girl — crossed the courtyard, passing through the wreckage and the crowd unseen.
The power of the Void wrapped them like an impenetrable cloak, making every movement absolute, fast, and silent.
As they approached the exit of the temple, the city awaited them, unaware of the shadow that already moved among them. The world kept turning, oblivious to what had just happened in the heart of the North.