The feeling of dirt piling over his body inside a wooden box made the experience extremely claustrophobic. The despair and lack of air in his lungs made everything even worse, forcing him to struggle desperately for freedom. This couldn't be real. The darkness enveloped him in a cold and tight embrace, and he could hear his family giving their final goodbyes while he desperately tried to break free. His pleas and screams made no sound; his struggles yielded no result, and the void of unconsciousness wrapped around him more and more until he finally gave in.

Sirius woke up with cold sweat dripping down his forehead. He was safe but still shaken by the nightmare he had. The carriage swayed gently as the coachman guided it through the busy streets of Mustang. His destination was near, for he had just arrived in the Iverson district, where the academy was located.

Goldenbridge was enormous, and its architecture resembled that of a grand Gothic cathedral. The large gates provided access to the academy’s doors, contrasting its refined interior with the depressive exterior. The flow of people coming and going made it the perfect environment to slip through unnoticed. The academy was very renowned and received hundreds of people every day due to its vast collection of books on a wide range of subjects.

Sneaking into the dormitories, Sirius managed to reach his old quarters. He opened the door and admired the scene. His desk was messy, and some of his notes seemed ransacked. The room was dark due to the curtains that allowed only a few beams of light to pass through, but the invasion of his quarters was clear as day. Drawers were overturned, and papers were scattered everywhere, with shoe marks on some documents on the floor and visible creases on the pages of his notebooks.

“Apparently someone was after something…” “Some of my notes are missing.”

A whirlwind of thoughts passed through Sirius’s mind—from his research colleagues to the motives behind his death—everything seemed to make more sense now. Apparently, someone wanted to take his research or appropriate it.

“Could this be related to my death?”

Could his companions, Dr. Emmet Stills and Martin Scott, really be capable of killing him for his research?

“I need to pay a small visit to both of them, but first I have to confirm something…”

Returning from his thoughts, he checked the small nightstand beside the bed, which did not seem to have been searched. Opening the small drawer, he found his revolver and a few two-dracma notes.

The revolver was a Colt Pacemaker .45 caliber made of silver with an ivory handle—a truly expensive and unique weapon. He checked the condition of the gun, and it was loaded. This weapon brought him a familiar sense of comfort and reminded him of the tough times after his mother’s death. Back then, he had dedicated himself entirely to his hobby as a shooter and his work as a shooting instructor and poster boy in his father's business. That gun had been with him all these years and was a piece of inestimable value.

“They only took my research, damn it!”

Calming himself momentarily, he decided to take a bath to wash off any remaining dirt that clung to his body. The room had a small attached bathroom with a toilet and a small shower. He took a cold, long shower, letting his body fully relax while he tried to get his mind working.

“First, I need to find Martin and ask him about my death, if he isn’t the one behind it.”

“Finding Dr. Stills will be a problem. He rarely comes to the academy. Maybe I can get his address… we’ll see.”

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Leaving the small bathroom, Sirius quickly changed his clothes. Earlier, he was wearing only a linen shirt with trousers and formal shoes, which made him stand out in some places for not following the common “etiquette.” However, now with a black vest and overcoat, he could blend in easily with the upper-middle class. To complement his outfit, he took his cane and a black fedora hat from the coat rack next to the door, which gave him a certain air of mystery.

Being very young, Sirius usually wore this type of clothing when meeting with “independent archaeologists” who claimed to have found artifacts related to the Primordials. The dark clothes added an air of mystery to his figure, favoring negotiations with these kinds of people.

He placed the revolver inside one of the inner pockets of his overcoat and quietly left the room. That revolver had been a gift from his father and had been with him through difficult times in his life. Having it with him now was a sign of good luck.

The corridor of the academy was enormous; its walls were made of polished marble, and light entered through the stained glass windows, remnants of Gothic architecture. Inside Goldenbridge, there were many classrooms and laboratories where several renowned professors gave lectures and presentations, in addition to the dormitories that housed the boarding residents, which was the case for Sirius and his research partner Martin Scott. Sirius was heading to Martin's quarters in search of clarification about the invasion.

Sirius had met Martin as soon as he joined the academy. He was a good man from a humble family and knew how to hold an interesting conversation. Over time, they discovered their shared interest in the mystery of the primordial civilizations of Griffin and decided to base their research on this topic.

Dr. Emmet Stills, the advisor for both, was in his 50s and was the only one who agreed to supervise Sirius’s research. All the other professors said that the so-called “Primordials” had too few records and information to lead to complete research, so the proposal was always rejected. Dr. Stills had always shown a strong interest in the subject, especially in the mysterious powers of the Primordials.

Sirius couldn't say for sure which of the two would be capable of killing him for the rights to the research, but his suspicions leaned more towards Dr. Stills. Martin was the closest to Sirius; they interacted daily, so he saw no strong motivation that could lead him to such an extent, but it was better to confirm with him directly.

It was around two in the afternoon, and most of the students and professors were in class. The hallways were emptier because this area was reserved for students and members of the Goldenbridge faculty associations, so at this time of day, it was much less busy.

Sirius adjusted his fedora to hide his face and calmly made his way to Martin's quarters. The architecture of the place subtly changed as he entered deeper into the academy. The structure had once been a large Gothic cathedral that sheltered its destitute and sick followers, so it had a large number of rooms and smaller lodgings. After the renovation into what became Goldenbridge, its internal structure was widely altered but still retained some ancient elements in memory of the church’s charitable work.

Taking his useless thoughts out of his head, Sirius spotted Martin's quarters.

“Should I knock?” he thought as he got closer to the door.

“This is not good…”

Sirius looked at the doorknob, which was currently open, and it looked like it had been forced.

Sirius quickly brought his hand to the inside pocket of his overcoat and firmly held his Colt Pacemaker. Cautiously, he approached the door and entered, looking around carefully. The smell of iron filled his nostrils, making the atmosphere heavy and mysterious. At first glance, the room seemed normal; he felt a chill down the back of his neck but couldn't tell what was wrong besides the slightly messy bedcovers.

As he went a little further in, Sirius noticed a figure lying on the floor beside the door he had just entered through—it was Martin. Blood soaked his clothes, and he had a strange wound on his chest. The wound was deep and disturbing, exposing the ribs of the corpse, and Sirius quickly looked away. Regaining his composure, he laid the man's body on the wooden floor, crossed Martin's arms over his chest, and closed his eyes as a sign of respect.

“Poor man… I wonder what his family’s reaction will be when they learn of his death.”

Sitting beside his friend’s corpse, Sirius noticed a subtle “energy” coming from beneath one of the wooden floorboards. It was like an ethereal “smoke” that didn’t seem to actually be there, but Sirius’s eyes had never deceived him before. He approached the board and was about to remove it when he felt a strange and familiar energy…

“Where have I felt this before…”

Click

Sirius heard a clicking sound coming from the bathroom door just as he was about to lift the board. His heart froze, and his throat felt as dry as desert sands.

“Damn it!”