Back in the dormitory, Ethan couldn't sleep. The night was thick and heavy, and the wind outside rattled the iron bars with a faint creak, like whispers from an ancient building. The dim light inside cast long shadows across the white walls, stretching and shifting as he turned restlessly in bed.
What kept echoing in his mind was the dark purple symbols on the iron cabinet deep in the archives, and the low, whispering voice that came with them. At first, the voice had been faint, like murmurs heard in a dream; now, it seemed increasingly real, as if emerging from the air itself, from the cracks in the walls, impossible to ignore.
Ethan tossed and turned, muttering under his breath, "Great… I think I've got Archive Syndrome. Should I go apply for workers' compensation?"
He closed his eyes, trying to sink into sleep, but the voice sounded again, clearer than before.
"…Naiya Sol…"
Ethan's eyes shot open. His heart pounded like a drum, his back soaked in cold sweat. The room was empty, yet the icy air seemed to tremble around him. He sat up, clutching the corner of his blanket, trying to suppress the fear of being watched.
"Who's calling me? And just so you know, if this is a prank, you'll be paying for my therapy." His tone was half-joking, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his fear.
Yet the name etched itself into his mind like a brand: Naiya Sol.
Rubbing his temples vigorously, Ethan tried to dispel the visions in his head. He sighed. "Alright… maybe all those shadows in the archives last night scared me half to death."
The next day, in the cafeteria, he couldn't resist quietly asking Silas, "Hey… have you ever heard of 'Naiya Sol'? Sounds like some pop star's stage name."
The coffee in Silas's hand nearly spilled. He froze as if struck by lightning, his face suddenly darkening. He spoke in a low, chilling tone, carrying an unprecedented warning: "Do not speak that name again."
Ethan blinked, testing cautiously, "So… you've heard of it?"
Silas nodded slowly, his gaze as heavy as an abyss, voice low and commanding: "It is an entity listed in the Shadow Dossier. Ancient. Unknown. Forbidden. Anyone who casually speaks the name will draw Its attention."
Ethan forced a faint smile, "Oh? Then I guess I should charge a fee for making an appearance? After all, It's actively watching me now."
Silas's eyes locked onto him like a vise, seeing through every trace of sarcasm and levity. He gripped Ethan's wrist firmly, voice low and unyielding: "Stop testing. You have no idea what you're dealing with."
Ethan froze. The firm grip on his wrist felt like a warning brand. The humor in his heart faded, leaving only a lingering chill. The cold crept up his spine like a blade slicing through muscle, reminding him—Naiya Sol was no ordinary existence.
The cafeteria buzzed with noise, but Ethan felt isolated behind a transparent barrier. Every laugh, every clink of cutlery, sounded amplified, underscoring the weight pressing on his mind.
He thought silently: The Shadow Dossier in the archives, Silas's warning, the ink mark on his chest… could it all be connected to Naiya Sol? The familiar yet alien whisper seemed to cross time and space, reaching straight into his soul.
That afternoon, Ethan sat alone in the dorm, staring at the cold sweat in his palm. The sunlight outside was bright, but his heart was shadowed. Every breath felt like inhaling some unseen pressure. The mark on his chest pulsed faintly, as if whispering: "It is watching you."
He took a deep breath, rubbing his brow, muttering: "Naiya Sol… who are you? Why can I always hear your voice in my mind?"
Night fell, plunging the dorm into deeper silence. The wind moved the curtains, producing a soft rustle, like whispers echoing through the room. Ethan leaned against the headboard, eyes fixed on the black ceiling. A faint smirk lingered on his lips, but beneath it lay an unmistakable fear.
His thoughts were slowly consumed by black ink, replaying visions of the Shadow Dossier, the dark purple symbols on the cabinet, the whispered call, and Silas's deep, piercing eyes. All the threads intertwined like countless fingers, pulling him toward the unknown abyss.
Ethan clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. He knew this was no ordinary hallucination, no normal nightmare. The sensation was as if someone was watching from the shadows, or that some force deep within his soul was calling him.
He whispered: "No matter who you are, Naiya Sol… I will figure it out. Before I find you, or before you find me, I won't back down."
The cold sweat in his hands slowly dried, but the chill in his chest lingered. The night wind outside carried a presence lurking in the darkness, silently observing his every move.
Ethan closed his eyes, trying to calm himself, but the name rang in his mind once more, clear and deep:
"…Veil…"
A jolt ran through him, his throat dry, sweat rolling again from his forehead. His body trembled slightly, but he gritted his teeth, murmuring:
"Naiya Sol… I know you're waiting for me. But I'm waiting for you too."
The dormitory fell into silence, leaving only the sound of his breathing and heartbeat, intertwining into an invisible prelude—signaling that the trial of the Shadow Dossier, the encounter with Naiya Sol, had only just begun.