The Shadow Base was quieter than usual that night. Only the crackling of the fireplace occasionally sounded in the corner of the room, casting a flickering orange glow on the stone walls.
Greva, with his elderly yet still agile posture, sat in a worn chair near the wooden table, his eyes fixed on a small, seemingly ancient television screen. With arms crossed, he occasionally muttered something, whether commenting on the broadcast or simply talking to himself.
On the other side of the room, Kieran sat on a wooden crate, fiddling with something tattered—a piece of paper or perhaps a pamphlet. His gaze looked empty, yet something behind his eyes hinted at deep thought. As if he was considering something, something he didn't want to talk about but also found hard to ignore.
Meanwhile, Rasmus remained near the fireplace, sitting upright in his chair facing the fire. A thick book was in his grasp, his fingers turning the pages calmly. His gaze was sharp, reading with a patience not possessed by most in this group.
He looked so calm, so in control, yet there was tension in his jaw, as if his mind wasn't fully immersed in the reading.
The base remained silent, only interrupted by the crackling fire and the occasional faint sound from the television.
Then, the door creaked softly.
---
Lyra crossed the room with light steps, ignoring the brief glance from Greva who remained busy watching the screen. Kieran also didn't pay much attention, just flipping his pamphlet with a flat expression, as if Lyra's presence wasn't something worth noting.
Without preamble, Lyra walked to the corner of the room where Rasmus sat, still leaning back in his chair with a book in hand. The fire in the fireplace flickered softly, casting a warm glow on the man's face, emphasizing his calm, authoritative expression.
Lyra stopped across the table, looking at him without a word.
Rasmus, without lifting his head, turned another page before finally closing his book with an unhurried motion. He looked at Lyra, his sharp eyes as if weighing something.
"You took a while," he said finally, his tone flat.
Lyra didn't answer immediately. She glanced at the empty chair nearby, then sat down, leaning back casually.
"I'm still alive," she replied briefly, shrugging.
"Good," said Rasmus, then paused for a moment. "So?"
Lyra knew she didn't need to beat around the bush with this man. Rasmus wasn't the type who liked long stories.
"I found something," she said, looking straight into Rasmus's eyes. "And maybe someone too."
Rasmus's eyes narrowed slightly. He folded his hands on the table, signaling Lyra to continue.
However, Lyra only smirked slightly. "But I want to know first... What do you think about all this?"
Rasmus didn't answer immediately. He observed Lyra's expression, searching for meaning behind her words.
The fireplace crackled softly, while Greva chuckled quietly in the background, still watching his show. Kieran remained silent, but his hand now gripped the pamphlet a little tighter.
Amidst all that, Lyra and Rasmus kept eye contact—like two players in a game that hadn't started, waiting to see who would make the first move.
---
Lyra smirked and leaned closer, pressing the back of her hand to her chest—as if feeling her own rapidly beating heart. "Ahem, Rasmus... eh, Boss, don't keep staring at me like that. My heart might explode!" she said in a teasing tone.
Rasmus only glanced briefly before looking back at his book. He turned a page with a calm motion, then muttered, "If your heart explodes, please don't dirty the floor. I don't want to bother cleaning it."
A moment of silence.
Lyra blinked several times, staring at Rasmus with a blank expression. That joke... was so dry that the air in the room felt even more arid than before. Her defeat was utter.
However, she wasn't the type to give up so easily. She leaned in again, almost touching the fireplace where Rasmus sat. "Something interesting happened today, Boss. Hmm, wanna guess?"
Rasmus finally looked at her, his expression still flat.
He was handsome, but there was something odd about the way he looked—like someone enjoying a game but reluctant to admit it. That gaze seemed mocking, but at the same time, there was a spark of interest in it.
"I'm listening," he answered, though his eyes remained on the book.
Lyra then began to tell her story.
About the library in ruins.
About Mariela and the strange thing about her involvement. About the cave in Beysolun and the horrifying scene she found there. And of course, about that mage's corpse—something that shouldn't be found so casually in a place like that.
Rasmus finally closed his book slowly. For a moment, his expression was hard to read, but there was a flash of rapidly turning thoughts behind his eyes.
"Interesting," he murmured finally.
Lyra waited, but there was no continuation.
She sighed. "Seriously? That's all your reaction?"
Rasmus looked at her again, this time more deeply. "For now, only you and I know. This isn't just a simple theft... or maybe it's still related. I don't know."
He rose from his chair, his shadow vaguely reflected by the firelight.
"One thing's clear," he continued, his voice softer but full of firmness, "our goal remains the same."
And amidst the flames dancing in the silence of the night, nothing more needed to be said.
---
Back to the Present
Dani was still lying in his bed, too lazy to get up. The ceiling of his room looked a bit dull, with patches of paint beginning to peel. The air in his room was quite stuffy, making him reluctant to move.
He raised his left hand, then covered his left eye with his palm. And as had happened repeatedly—
He saw something that wasn't his.
Not his messy room, not the stained ceiling of his house. What sprawled before him was a narrow, stone-paved street, with old buildings on the left and right. People passed by, some carrying baskets of groceries.
Dani immediately knew who was seeing this.
"Neir."
Footsteps sounded from his vision. A little girl walked with a quick yet light rhythm. Her hands occasionally swung, as if trying to grasp something invisible. Dani couldn't see her face, of course, because these were Neir's eyes.
He didn't know exactly where the child was going, but judging by the surroundings, she was likely on her way to school.
A small smile appeared on Dani's face. A mischievous idea crossed his mind.
"What if I mess with her?"
Without a second thought, Dani took a deep breath, then shouted as loudly as he could in his head—
"NEEEIIIRRR!!!"
"HUUWAAAAAA!!!"
Neir was instantly startled. Her world shook immediately, her steps faltered, and—
"EEK!"
Her body jerked backward instantly. Her knees nearly buckled, and she had to stop to calm her breathing. Her eyes widened, her face pale as if she'd just seen a ghost.
Dani in his bed could only chuckle softly.
"Gotcha."
However, the incident didn't stop there.
In Neir's place, an old man arranging his fruit stall turned with a furrowed brow. A mother carrying a basket also paused briefly, wearing a confused expression.
Several children playing not far away stopped their game too.
Neir's already flushed face now turned even redder. She bit her lip, trying to hide her embarrassment.
"YOU DAMN VOICE DEMON!"
And without thinking—
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP!
She immediately ran away from the spot as fast as she could.
Dani was still chuckling contentedly. But before he could enjoy his victory any longer—
CRASH!!!
The sound of something falling from the lower floor echoed throughout the house. Then—
"DANIIIIIIII!!!"
A thunderous shout came from the direction of the kitchen. Dani froze in place. He looked toward his still-closed bedroom door, but heavy footsteps were already heard climbing the stairs.
BAM!
His bedroom door swung wide open, revealing his mother still wearing an apron. Her expression was one of shock and anger.
"WHAT ARE YOU SCREAMING ABOUT FIRST THING IN THE MORNING, HUH?! I DROPPED A PLATE IN THE KITCHEN BECAUSE OF YOU!"
Dani reflexively raised his hands in surrender. "Uh... sorry, Mom?"
His mother only snorted, rolled her eyes before turning around, leaving the room while grumbling to herself.
Dani sighed, ruffled his hair before finally getting out of bed.
"Well, at least this morning isn't boring."
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