The tracking spell locked onto its target with unsettling precision.
Rowan Mercer moved through the air unseen, following the magical thread as it pulled him toward District Seven. The moment he left the Hound Unit's base, he had already made his decision. Academy City had given him everything it could. Its systems topped out at Level Five, and he had already crossed that threshold. From here on, science had nothing left to offer him.
If he wanted to go further, only magic remained.
He could not break Index's Automatic Script defense to seize the grimoires. That path was sealed. The alternatives were simpler and uglier. Infiltrate the great churches and strip their libraries bare. Or quietly dismantle their leadership and extract what he needed directly from their memories.
But before any of that, Rowan wanted answers.
Too many events carried the faint outline of a single hidden hand. And at the center of that outline stood the same name every time.
Aleister Crowley.
If anyone in this city knew how science and magic truly intersected, it would be the man who built Academy City itself. And if there existed even a theoretical path beyond Level Five, Rowan suspected Aleister would be the one holding it.
Level Six. The Absolute Ability.
A power said to allow a human to grasp the will of the divine without becoming a god. A being whose strength rivaled demon gods themselves. According to what Rowan had seen in Shirley Cromwell's memories, true demon gods were magicians who had fully comprehended magic's underlying laws and ascended through ritual into something fundamentally beyond the world.
Entities capable of ending worlds on a whim.
By Rowan's own estimation, that put them somewhere near single-universe-class threats.
Even at his peak, even when he became a dragon and unleashed everything he had, Rowan was still short of that level. If he could reach Level Six, the leap in power would be absolute.
The spell led him to a building at the heart of District Seven.
A massive structure with no windows.
Rowan hovered above the roof, frowning. "That's not ominous at all."
He bypassed the front entirely, landing on the rooftop instead.
"Alohomora."
The mechanical door clicked open. Still invisible, Rowan descended the stairwell, step by careful step, until he reached a vast interior hall.
The place felt wrong.
The floor and walls resembled an enormous circuit board, as if the entire chamber were part of some living machine. At its center stood a massive life-support apparatus. Tubes, conduits, and glowing lines fed into a cylindrical tank.
Inside it floated a thin man with long silver hair.
Upside down.
Surrounded by holographic displays.
Rowan stared as the tracking spell pointed unambiguously toward the man in the tank.
"So that's him," Rowan thought. "The founder of Academy City. Aleister Crowley."
He frowned. "Feels like a normal human."
The thought barely formed before he rejected it.
The man's eyes snapped open.
In an instant, invisible pressure slammed into Rowan from every direction. His body locked in place, muscles frozen, magic suppressed under sheer force.
Aleister Crowley was looking straight at him.
"How curious," Aleister murmured calmly. "A clone who has surpassed the original… and can use magic. Fascinating. Possession by a demon, perhaps?"
Rowan couldn't move. Not even Apparition responded.
"Hmm. No demonic resonance," Aleister continued. "Then what are you?"
Only now did Rowan understand how wrong he'd been. Aleister wasn't weak. His presence had been concealed so perfectly that Rowan hadn't sensed it at all.
And the truth was far worse.
The man who built Academy City's science-side wasn't just a mastermind.
He was one of the most powerful magicians Rowan had ever encountered.
Raw magical pressure alone held Rowan immobile. Not an attack. Not even hostility. Just restraint.
Rowan could break free. If he transformed, if he became a dragon, the boost would let him tear loose and escape. But he didn't.
Aleister hadn't struck him.
And Rowan was suddenly very interested.
"Aleister Crowley," Rowan said carefully. "I'm not possessed."
"Of course," Aleister replied. "If you were, you wouldn't stop there."
The pressure lifted.
Rowan exhaled slowly, regaining control of his body. Aleister studied him with open fascination.
"You don't belong to this world," Aleister said. "That much is obvious."
Aleister rarely revealed himself. His power drew attention. Dangerous attention. The magic side, the churches, and far worse things still remembered him. And one name in particular still hunted him relentlessly.
Choronzon.
If not for the arrival of this anomaly, Clone 9981, Aleister would never have risked exposing himself like this.
But the anomaly was too strange to ignore.
A being with esper abilities who wielded magic that did not belong to this world. Magic that didn't conflict with esper powers. Magic Aleister himself had never developed or catalogued.
That alone shattered established law.
Only demon gods, angels, or devils existed outside the system so completely.
Yet Rowan bore none of their signatures.
Aleister's interest sharpened.
"What are you?" he asked quietly.
Rowan met his gaze, feeling the weight of centuries of secrets pressing down on the room.
And for the first time since arriving in Academy City, Rowan realized he might not be the most dangerous being in the building.
...
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