Iscario – the Brightest Star – was a man for forfeited his rights as a Blessed to bestow his blessings to the unchosen. No lie had ever left his tongue and were it not for him, then the Impuritas would still be fighting amongst themselves rather than facing the real enemy.

A band of unsolicited faces arrived at the pale confines of the Central Relay. They stood out like a rot amongst all that was sacred in this place. Around 25,000 Impuritas appeared simultaneously and even this number failed to fill even a tenth of the Central Relay’s expanse.

“The Nexus is as obnoxious as it is from the outside.” Spoke an unrefined voice. “What did the Brightest Star say about this place again? That it was only a symbol of prosperity for the so called ‘Blessed’?”

It came from a band of Masques who stood at the very front of the group. They consisted of stitched up humanoid creatures who also vaguely resembled animals.

A few stood on giant bloated balls that leaked blood through the ineffective stitches. They used this to move around like clowns performing at a circus. Jester hats, and all manners of blood-soaked, jolly items were worn. Bells rang with every hideous contraction.

“No, he said that he despised that such a symbol could exist to remind the less fortunate of an unreachable heaven.” An Ankou representing a legion of resurrected dead for the Memento Mori uttered with melancholy.

“Poor, poor us.” A Maestro of the Maestros of Flesh said as they were accompanied by a few hundred Virtuosos. “Never allowed to set foot onto the world’s stage. The Brightest Star must have been out of his mind to betray the Nexus. And it was all for us! Our selfless, Fallen Star!”

The cry from the Maestro rallied the several thousand Impuritas. The Flesh Clots, Creeping Ivy, and other hideous monstrosities of the Crimson Hunger reverently squirmed in response. Half of their attack force were the Handless Bers that were copied long ago to push the Electric Claw into Corruption.

The Maestros of Flesh’s Virtuosos, the Blood Festival’s Masques, the Memento Mori’s Ankous, the Sect of Gears’ Clockwork Prophets, the Fractured Nilhim’s Fractured and finally, the Librarians.

A single Memory Bistro was present to record everything. They acted as the Crimson Hunger’s mobile Heart, and he was the first to notice something awry.

“It’s empty. The hounds of flesh sense recent activity. Thousand of people were here. But they’re no longer.” The Memory Bistro uttered, looking over to the Expositionist who stood at the forefront of the Impuritas, surrounded by a circle of Librarians.

* * *

These Librarians were different from the mass-produced ones that were used in the war of the Bellum Empire. More than 2/3rds were Scrapers made to accompany the Expositionist, with the last 1/3rd being Librarians specifically created by the Expositionist.

They were entities adorned in a grey robe much like herself with letters forming on their bodies. They took on the appearance of Healers, but just with grey hair and wielded swords in the shape of various letters. Talisman with an insignia unique to this group was attached to the broad side of their weapons.

It was the symbol of a moon wrapped in chains, both encased within an open book.

Only 1001 Librarians were present including the Expositionist herself. Excluding the Fractured Nilhim, the Librarians had the lowest head count of them all.

This was because their role was not to fight and cause maximum carnage unlike the others.

They were tasked with only one thing – to extract as much information from the Eternal Library as possible.

* * *

Scheherazade was the name of the Expositionist.

She was a woman born of human flesh whose life was artificially extended upon joining the Librarians. Her role and namesake meant nothing aside from narrating the tales of the past, present and future to provide context to her partners.

She was a woman with short, white hair and grey, seemingly dead eyes. Her hair was cut perfectly straight at her earlobes, and she wore a dignified air compared to the other high-ranking Impuritas.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Her loose robes were equipped with leather straps, which exaggerated various parts of her body. It seemed like an odd design choice, but to her, there was much meaning behind these straps.

They were the same kind found on a book that resided by her hip. It bled when she gave it the smallest squeeze, dribbling with human blood that once ran through her veins. Unlike most Expositionists whose skin was paper-white, hers was darker and more tanned.

Her narrow eyes gazed upon the vast emptiness of the Central Relay as she deeply inhaled. Then, she caught a droplet of blood from the corner of her book and dragged it against her palm.

“An emergency evacuation procedure was broadcasted approximately 5 hours prior to our arrival. The Nexus anticipated a counterattack prior to the war.”

She didn’t exactly where this information came from… no, that would be a lie. Every Expositionist knew that it came from the same library that the world fought over hundreds of years ago.

The reason why she felt so strange was because of the speed and accuracy of this knowledge. The sheer proximity to the Eternal Library gave her access to undisclosed information.

But she didn’t show this on her face. She remained expressionless and continued:

“The Blessed are hiding on this same level in a place called the Residential Floor. We’re currently in the Lower Sanctums. I advise that you do not enter the Middle or the Upper Sanctums.”

“Hmm?” A Masque hummed, unamused by her warning. “Aren’t we here on the orders of causing maximum damage?”

The Masque moved up. It didn’t make sense for them to stay gathered like this. It was better if they did what they did best and give the Nexus a taste of despair.

However, the Expositionist held out an arm to stop her from advancing.

“You are. But we’re not. The Eternal Library is best to be kept preserved.”

“Step aside, Expositionist. Are the Authors afraid of a little book burning?”

“The Authors would never order a book burning. It’s always been your Fallen Star that’s given that order. Let it be known that if one of you dare to touch a single book –”

The blade of a Librarian cleaved the arm of a Masque to prove their point.

“– Then we’ll have to throw you aside. We take care of our literary origins. Expositionists on the other hand, deeply respect them. You could learn a thing or two.”

She squeezed her palm, and in that instant, her grey eyes glowed with a small spark of red. The severed arm exploded into chunks of flesh, scattering blood into the faces of those around her.

[Rupture – Fragment Impurity].

The Skill targeted the limbs of those who held impure blood and would cause them to rapidly crystalize. It happened so fast that it caused the limb to explode, leaving behind crystal fragments and launching deadly shrapnel.

At first glance one would have believed that she used a stolen Skill. But this belonged to Scheherazade, long ago when she was still ‘human’.

Long, long ago when Atlas was the epicenter of the lost dark ages, hence her accent. She didn’t speak like those who had lived long lives. There were no ‘thou arts’ or ‘thys’ sprinkled into her vocabulary, but the way she spoke felt like she was on the verge of uttering these.

Rupture was more of an Ability than a Skill. Rather, it was a biological birthright of the descendants of the Honored Ones, and was a trait closely associated with the Blood Angels, the Blood Letters, and ultimately, the Red Wing.

Unlike the Impuritas whose hatred stemmed from selfish beliefs, she sincerely yearned to preserve the Eternal Library.

“Don’t waste your time breaking these pillars. They’re indestructible. Ahead. The tunnel will lead us into the Common Hub. It’s where the Blessed leisurely spend their time inside of the Nexus.”

“A paradise stowed away from the world. It would be an honor to plague it with diseases. But they do have Healers kept here too.” A Maestro of Flesh hummed. “Shall we have a look for them?”

“You’ll have to enter the Floor of Amalgamation.” Scheherazade claimed as they swarmed the tunnel. “As I said – The Upper Sanctums are out of the question. Our force can overwhelm anything here so long as there aren’t any Moons. A Star won’t be able to stop all of us, and Time Reverberation’s Aspiring Moons can only do so much.”

The lower-ranked Impuritas pushed ahead, eager to bring mayhem into the Nexus. The pale walls were stained black and red as they trampled over the recently cleaned floors. In fact, they were so recently cleaned that there was a chance that the person who did clean it was still around.

Scheherazade sealed her eyes upon the thought of this. She was the only one who gave her regards to a lost soul. At one point in the past, she was on the receiving end of such an invasion.

However, this was justified in her eyes.

Because the Eternal Library could not be controlled by someone who did not love those tales as much as she did. No one could understand the pain of the original Librarians who protected the Eternal Library for 50 years during the book burnings and the absence of the Archetype of Civilization – the one who should have been there to protect the books.

Scheherazade knew them to be a coward.

“How can they understand our suffering?” She uttered; her voice muted by the sounds of horrible screams. “They can’t. They never will. The owner of the Eternal Library was blind to our devotion. The Eternal Library was everything to us.”

What little remorse she had of the Blessed washed away in an instant. Though they were there to fight for the Eternal Library, they were cast away into a world that did not want them. Whether they became Blood Letters, Librarians or if fate decided it to be – Blood Angels – it did not change that they resented the Eternal Library’s owner.

She drew the letter ‘K’ in the air and summoned a Khopesh; a black and golden-trimmed sickle-like sword.

“… The Archivist resides somewhere in the Middle Sanctums.”

“Hah. You can enter the Middle Sanctums?” A Masque haughtily complained. “The Lower Sanctum won’t last long. There’s not a soul in sight to keep us from accessing the rest of the Nexus.”

“The Authors of Existentia have given me this mission. It’s also in my best interest. And it would be in yours to keep out of my business. I’m not like the feeble Expositionsts you’re familiar with.”

“Aha. A descendant of an Honored One, and you gave up the chance to become a Blood Angel.” An Ankou spoke highly of her. He venerated being in the mere proximity of the Expositionist thanks to her origins.

“I didn’t give up the chance.” She corrected. “It was stolen from me. Regretfully from the same benefactors I’ve come to trust.”