They had just passed a quiet fountain garden—its water glowing faintly with enchanted light, flowing upward in gentle spirals—when Kael finally asked the question that had been gnawing at him since day one.
"What about the Archive?" he said, glancing sideways at Theo. "What's its deal, exactly?"
Theo stopped walking.
Immediately.
He turned to face Kael slowly, his expression shifting from neutral to intensely focused, studying him in a way that made Kael instinctively shift his weight.
The look wasn't hostile.
But it was searching.
"What?" Kael asked, feeling a prickle of unease under Theo's unnervingly direct gaze.
Theo didn't answer immediately. He just stared for a few seconds longer than necessary, his eyes sharp behind his glasses.
Then, finally, he shook his head.
"You really need to be careful about the kind of questions you ask people," Theo said, his voice serious, completely devoid of his usual dry amusement. "Not everyone's going to be as dismissive of your ignorance as I am."
Kael winced slightly. "Okay. That's fair, I guess." He scratched the back of his neck. "So... are you going to answer, or not?"
Theo studied him for a moment longer, then resumed walking, his hands in his pockets.
"The Archive," he began slowly, his tone measured, "is the foundation of our world. It's ingrained in everything. When a child is born, it's custom—tradition—for their parents to teach them everything they know about it. It's considered basic knowledge."
He glanced back at Kael, his gaze pointed. "The kind of knowledge you should already have."
Kael said nothing, just followed, listening.
Theo continued. "The Archive holds the record of every living organism on this planet. Some say it remembers the past. Watches the present." He paused. "And might even see the future."
"Cool," Kael muttered, unimpressed.
Theo ignored the sarcasm. "When someone turns eighteen, they undergo what's called the Trial of Awakening. The Archive tests them—individually, personally. The trial is different for each person, but the theme is always the same."
"Let me guess," Kael said. "Your worst fears?"
"Close." Theo adjusted his glasses. "It's not always fear. Sometimes it's guilt. Regret. Trauma. Something tied to your soul, something that would prevent you from growing stronger if left unresolved."
He stopped walking again, turning to face Kael directly.
"If you pass, you unlock access to the Archive and ascend to the first rank."
"Novice Sigil," Kael said, remembering his own system messages.
Theo nodded. "Exactly."
"And if you fail?"
Theo's expression turned grim. "There's no second chance. Fail the trial, and you live the rest of your life as an ordinary human. No Archive access. No powers. No path forward."
Kael frowned. "That's... harsh."
"That's the world," Theo replied, his tone flat, unbothered. "And that was the easy part."
He resumed walking, and Kael followed, his mind churning through the implications.
"After becoming a Novice," Theo continued, "you're given a choice: Knight or Mage. That choice shapes your entire future. Once you choose, the Archive links to your soul. From that point forward, it begins to manifest."
"Manifest how?" Kael asked, genuinely curious now.
Theo shrugged slightly. "Depends on the nature of your soul. For most people, it's just... a book. A page that appears when they think about it, their rank, their abilities."
He paused, his gaze distant, thoughtful.
"But for some, it's more. I've heard of people whose Archive manifested as a glowing tome that follows them. Others get a spirit companion—something sentient that advises them. I've even heard of someone whose Archive appeared as a floating mechanical eye."
Kael blinked. "That's... oddly specific."
"I'm serious." Theo's tone was completely deadpan. "The Archive is sentient. It adapts to the soul it's bound to. No two manifestations are exactly the same."
Kael absorbed that, his thoughts drifting to his own glitched system—the golden screens, the invasive tasks, the penalties.
'Is mine adapting? Or is it just broken?'
Theo continued, oblivious to Kael's internal turmoil. "Once you're linked, the Archive tracks your progress. You gain experience through training, combat, missions. When you've accumulated enough, it offers you another trial to rank up."
"How much experience?" Kael asked.
"No one knows. It's different for everyone." Theo's voice carried a hint of exhaustion. "One person might rank up in six months. Another might take three years. The Archive doesn't explain itself."
Kael frowned. "That's... vague."
"That's the Archive."
They walked in silence for a moment, the sounds of the academy filling the space—distant voices, the clash of weapons, the hum of magic in the air.
Then Kael spoke again, his voice carefully casual. "What about tasks?"
Theo glanced at him. "Tasks?"
"You know. Like... missions. Objectives the Archive gives you."
Theo's expression shifted—confusion flickering across his face.
"The Archive doesn't give tasks," he said slowly, as if explaining something obvious. "It tracks your progress, but it doesn't... command you. You choose what to do. How to grow. The Archive just... records it."
Kael's stomach dropped.
"Wait." He stopped walking. "So the Archive doesn't assign you missions? Tell you what to do?"
Theo turned to face him fully now, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses.
"No. Why would it?"
Kael's mind raced.
'Everyone here has a normal Archive.'
'They see their stats. They track their progress.'
'But they don't get TASKS.'
'They don't get PENALTIES.'
'Mine is different.'
'Mine is—'
"Kael."
Theo's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts.
"Why are you asking about tasks?"
Kael forced his expression to stay neutral, his tone casual. "Just... something I read once. In a book. I thought maybe the Archive worked like that."
Theo studied him for a long, uncomfortable moment.
Then, slowly, he shook his head. "You need to stop reading fiction and start reading history."
"Yeah," Kael muttered, looking away. "Probably."
But inside, his thoughts were chaos.
'My system is DEFINITELY broken.'
Or...
'It's something else entirely.'
'Could it be related to the world task?'
Theo resumed walking, apparently satisfied with the answer.
"Look," he said after a moment. "In summary: The Archive is the silent god of this world. It doesn't interfere directly. It doesn't explain. It doesn't command."
He glanced back at Kael, his gaze sharp.
"But it watches. It remembers. And its power is absolute."
Kael nodded slowly, his mind still reeling.
'If normal Archives don't give tasks...'
'Then what the hell is mine?'
A golden screen flickered at the edge of his vision, as if in response.
He ignored it.
◆ ◆ ◆
They walked in silence for a while, Kael lost in thought, Theo seemingly content to let him process.
But the daily task had put Kael in a mood—a strange, unfamiliar hunger for understanding. And now that he'd started asking questions, he couldn't seem to stop.
"Can I ask more?" Kael said suddenly.
Theo glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. "You already completed your ten questions."
Kael blinked. "How did you—"
"You've been counting in your head. Badly." Theo's lips twitched. "You're not as subtle as you think."
"...Right." Kael scratched the back of his neck. "But seriously. Can I keep going?"
Theo was silent for a moment, then sighed—resigned but not annoyed.
"Fine. But make them good questions. I'm not a walking encyclopedia."
"Noted." Kael thought for a moment, organizing his thoughts. "Alright. You said the Archive tracks progress. But how? What counts as progress?"
Theo adjusted his glasses, his tone shifting back into lecture mode. "Combat experience, obviously. Winning fights, surviving danger, pushing your limits. But it's not just combat."
"What else?"
"Study. Mastery of techniques. Understanding magic theory or weapon forms. Completing difficult tasks—not from the Archive, but from instructors or missions the academy assigns."
Kael nodded. "So basically... anything that makes you stronger?"
"In body, mind, or skill, yes."
"And the ranking system—Novice..."
"Everyone follows the same path." Theo listed them off: "Novice Sigil, Master Sigil, Advanced Sigil, Grand Sigil, Ascendant, Primal, Transcendent."
"Seven ranks," Kael murmured. "That's... specific."
"It's tied to the Archive's origin," Theo said, his tone careful. "But most people don't reach past Grand. Ascendant and above are... legendary."
"How many Ascendants are there?"
"In the human continent? Maybe a dozen. Worldwide?" Theo shrugged. "No one knows for sure. They don't exactly advertise."
Kael absorbed that, filing it away.
"What about deaths?" he asked. "What happens to your Archive when you die?"
Theo's expression darkened slightly. "Your record is stored. Some believe the Archive keeps your memories. Others think it's just data."
"Cheerful."
"It's the truth."
Kael nodded slowly. "Last question for now."
"Go ahead."
"Can the Archive be... tampered with? Changed? Broken?"
Theo went very still.
His eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening.
"Why," he said slowly, his voice low, "would you ask that?"
Kael met his gaze, keeping his expression neutral. "Just curious. You said it's sentient. Adaptive. I was wondering if it could... malfunction."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and tense.
Then Theo spoke, his tone measured. "There are legends. Stories of people whose Archives... glitched. Showed them things they shouldn't see. Gave them power they couldn't control."
He paused.
"Most of those stories end badly."
"How badly?"
"Death. Madness. Corruption." Theo's gaze didn't waver. "The Archive is not meant to be broken. If it is broken... there's usually a reason."
Kael held his gaze for a moment longer, then looked away, his heart pounding.
A reason.
Right.
"Got it," he said casually. "Just wondering."
Theo didn't respond immediately. He just studied Kael for a few more seconds, his expression unreadable.
Then, finally, he turned and resumed walking.