Raziel walked through St. Celeste's library between the shelves with a purpose, pretending he was looking for study stuff while his senses stayed on max alert.
Every shadow could be a threat.
[ECHO DETECTED: St. Celeste Library]
[Familiarity: 67%]
[Associated events: MULTIPLE (data corrupted)]
He looked toward the black iron gate at the back of the library.
The protection runes carved into the metal glowed with a faint shine, warning the curious to keep their distance.
"That third-century farming treatise is fascinating, if you like counting turnips."
Raziel turned, keeping his composure even with the jolt.
Sister Seraphina was leaning against a nearby shelf, a stack of scrolls in her arms and an ink smear on her cheek.
She watched him with an interest that went past casual curiosity.
And something inside Raziel reacted.
[ECHO ACTIVATED: RECOGNITION]
[Seraphina Blackwood]
[Original fate: Death in Second Wave of the Invasion]
[Cause: Defending Church archives against unclassified entity]
"Sister Seraphina," Raziel said, bowing his head with respect. "I didn't hear you coming."
"Nobody hears me when I don't want to be heard." She pushed off the shelf with a smooth movement.
"What are you really looking for, novice? Because farming books don't put that kind of determined look on anyone's face."
Raziel studied her carefully.
In some previous life, she'd been important.
"...the fifth regression... you can't... remember everything..."
'Fifth? Had I died at least five times? Or more?'
He decided to risk a half-truth.
"I'm looking for information about something called a 'Paragon'," he said. "It showed up in a... dream I had. A voice whispered that word to me."
Seraphina went still.
"Where did you hear that word?" Her voice lost the casual tone. Now it was sharp, urgent.
"In a dream."
"Dreams don't teach forbidden vocabulary, follow me."
Without waiting for an answer, she led him to the black gate. She stopped in front of it, but didn't open it right away. She ran a finger along the cold bars.
"Tell me, Raziel. What do you see here?"
"A restricted section," he answered, staring into the darkness behind the gate. "Books the Church thinks are dangerous."
"Wrong, you see fear."
Seraphina put in the key.
"The Church worships order. Clerics who pray, Paladins who hit. Every piece on its square." She pushed the gate open. "But the 'Paragon' breaks the board."
Raziel stepped in after her.
"The ability to use everything," Raziel murmured, more to himself than to her. "Magic and steel, light and shadow, no restrictions."
Seraphina turned hard, her eyes lit with that intellectual fever that was basically her default setting.
"Exactly! not a title, it's a heresy. Three centuries ago, anyone who showed talent for more than one discipline wasn't celebrated. They were purged."
She pointed at a row of books with scorched spines.
"They said it was 'unnatural'. I say it was jealousy." Her voice dropped into a conspirator whisper.
"PARAGON power scares people who only have borrowed power."
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[KEYWORD RECOGNIZED: "PARAGON"]
"Why are you showing me this?" Raziel asked, cutting through the history lesson. He didn't have time for an academic's grudge. "If this is that dangerous, we should both be running."
Seraphina laughed.
"Because I recognize your eyes, Raziel." She stopped beside a shelf packed with bound tomes.
"That's not curiosity, It's the look of someone who's seen too much."
She turned to face him, and her violet eyes looked like they were catching light that wasn't even there.
"I've worked these archives for five years. I've read things that would make Cardinals cry, things that would make Saints question their own faith, and in all that time, I've only seen that look on three people."
"What happened to them?"
"Two are dead." Her voice didn't shake, but something in her eyes got darker.
"The third vanished a decade ago as the Church says he was transferred to a mission on the borders, but I think he found something he shouldn't have found... and had to run before they found him."
"What do you want from me, Sister Seraphina?" he asked straight up.
"You didn't bring me here out of charity. Nobody risks their position for some random novice."
"I want to offer you an alternative, Raziel. I've seen that cycle dozens of times, bright young people ground into dust by an institution that only values obedience."
The shadows in the library seemed to move, twisting at Seraphina's feet.
"But there are other paths of knowledge older than Zhalyr's dogmas, power the Church can't control, and that's why it fears it."
[WARNING: FORBIDDEN ENERGY DETECTED]
[CLASSIFICATION: UNKNOWN]
[NOTE: In timelines where the Regressor accepted without conditions, corruption rate was 89%.]
[RECOMMENDATION: SET CLEAR LIMITS]
Raziel processed the warning, didn't step back, but didn't move forward either.
In his previous life and in all his previous lives, he'd probably been a strict orthodox.
'Purity didn't save anyone, orthodoxy didn't stop the massacre, and the choir kids died anyway, no matter how hard I prayed.'
"I have a question," Raziel said. "Before I consider anything you're offering."
"Go ahead."
"If I had to choose between saving innocent lives or preserving the Church's doctrine... what would you choose?"
Seraphina blinked, genuinely surprised by the question.
"Lives," she answered without hesitation. "Doctrine can be rewritten, sacred texts have been edited dozens of times over the centuries, but the dead... the dead don't come back."
There was something Raziel needed to say.
"One last thing, Sister."
"Yeah?"
"At some point... you're going to give me advice, it's something about 'changing the rules'." He paused, searching for the right words. "When that moment comes... thanks. In advance."
Seraphina frowned, honestly confused.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I know." He smiled a little.
"But you will eventually, and I want you to know the advice worked or will work. Time is... complicated."
[SYSTEM NOTE]
[Faith and heresy are not mutually exclusive.]
[The Paragon transcends both categories.]
[The limits you set define who you will be.]
[Choose wisely, Regressor.]
[Your past selves died for not listening.]
[Will you be different?]