The Archetype of Ego demonstrated her telekinetic powers in full. The countless islands began to spiral around the mainland, crashing into one another and plunging unfortunate Librarians into the abyss beneath.

“I latched onto that one place with the entirety of my being. Entities like me were born for one purpose. Machines have but one goal. To serve. But as you can see…”

Then, each half of the mainland rose into two great walls, blocking incoming magic. She walked along a thin strip of land as rubble hailed around her. It was all effortless. Everything in this Floor was beholden to her. She merely needed to think, and the world would contort to her liking.

“… I’ve grown fond of this place you’ve decided to invade.”

It was as though this Floor was the very reflection of her own mind; a fragmented mess that could not make sense no matter how the components were arranged. But she knew exactly what she wanted. She wasn’t lost or enraged like Scheherazade.

“Tch. I feel the same way towards the Library you’ve imprisoned here in your Nexus! That place was a nexus in of itself before the book burnings! And the world stood by to watch it crumble… Your Beholders are to blame. Their powers come from that Library! But they weren’t there to help us protect it!”

Scheherazade fury could not penetrate the defenses of the Archetype. This was a given, but the woman refused to die after coming so far. There would not be a second time, for she knew the Nexus’ defenses would be near impenetrable in the future.

All the once calm Scheherazade could do was lash out.

“No. They weren’t. Their greed was overflowing as I’ve heard.”

“It was more than greed! It was that they turned their backs to the Library! They sought to exploit it! And the Archetype of Civilization did nothing for those 50 years! And when she did return, she cast us out – and we were forced into the ruins of Atlas to fend for ourselves!”

Scheherazade refused to give in. She threw herself forward and drew blood from her palm to create a bloody dagger. The Archetype gently reached for the handle of her blade, and with a simple upwards motion – a ring of blue flames pulsated from where the blade was pulled from.

It burned the arms of the woman, instantly drying out her blood. Her Librarians were partially burned by the attack. Another pulse of fire would eliminate them. That was how powerful it was.

“Are you seeking vengeance?” The Archetype asked. “Retribution? Compensation?”

“I must. The Archivist took it into the Nexus. It was supposed to be the safest place… But to this day, torn pages are recovered by our expeditionary teams. The Authors can testify to it in their own Library! We have the evidence!”

The Archetype looked at her. Then, with a deep breath, pointed her enormous blade in her direction.

“It’s astonishing how easy it is to be painted as the enemy. How a simple case of introversion can be seen as betrayal, negligence, evil. In truth, she may not have known you existed.”

“She would know now just how much we loved the Eternal Library! We… are constantly being watched by her. There is no way that she doesn’t know that we’re the reason why so much of it is still standing!”

“Nor do you realize that you’re the reason why she’s afraid of your kind.”

“… What?”

Scheherazade was suddenly knocked to her knees by an unbearable weight. The Archetype of Ego simply motioned her weapon downwards, and it forced her onto her knees. She looked around for help, but many of her Librarians were left in a worse condition than her, many enduring their burn wounds which were often deadly to the Librarians.

“… What did you say? It began because of her. Don’t twist it… to defend your own.” Scheherazade growled, refusing to see it any other way. “Why would she be so afraid. She should’ve protected the Library better. How many torn pages have we recovered? How many spines of fables are in our own collection? The Authors know… Tch…”

The Archetype of Ego approached the woman as all islands merged into one. Her blade was held above her head, raised like a guillotine. One drop was all it would take for her to lose not only her life, but her only opportunity to investigate the Eternal Library.

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“… Kill me…” She asked despite wanting to remain, but she knew it was futile.

“Killing you would leak much of what you’ve seen here. Neither does it seem like you want to die either. Otherwise, your willpower alone would have been enough to drop my blade.”

“What could they do if they knew your powers? What could any of us do to a monster like you?”

“Indeed. There is not much they can do when the worst has already been experienced.” The Archetype of Ego said nonchalantly, but Scheherazade was able to receive fragments of this being’s tales.

Those fragments alone nearly caused her mind to spiral.

“… Tch… I don’t understand.”

“But you must. It’s always a matter of understanding. Without it, then there you’re but a moth following what you think is your brightest lantern. Scheherazade. You’re an aspiring Author who seeks to create one thousand and one tales. How interesting.”

It was as the Archetype said. The Expositionist was an aspiring Author herself. She felt like an open book before the gaze of the Archetype. It would not surprise her if every word she had spoken in her lifespan was known by this being.

But if she knows this much about me… then she should understand what I’m doing this for.

“I was a child when they came to the Eternal Library. I spent 50 years… defending it. I turned down the chance to become a Blood Angel for the Library. I am an Honored One, lowered to the likes of a Librarian, because of our combined anguish… What does the Archivist know of our anguish? Of the books that were burned day and night.”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“… huh?”

Scheherazade was flabbergasted. She thought it was a joke, but quickly realized that the Archetype was being truthful with her.

“… You can take me to her?”

“I can. I will. I must. I believe you’re mistaken. It wouldn’t be the first grand delusion to poison the mind of good people.” The Archetype stated. “There is some use for you yet. There has never been an Expositionist to set foot into the Nexus. But it has resulted in you learning quite astonishing things about me. Information that even the Archivist struggles to find in that labyrinth.”

“Why… are you talking like that? Like I’ll come to understand the Archivist.”

“It’s not so much that you will understand her. Rather, you will be obligated to help her. I foresee it.”

“And why is that?” Scheherazade growled.

“You said – in your words – that Librarians seek to protect the Library. But that hasn’t been the case for as long as it has existed in the Nexus.”

Scheherazade felt her heart stop. It was as though it was plunged into an arctic sea. Her expression was as clear as day and it screamed: “That’s not possible.”

“… what?”

“You can see it for yourself.” The Archetype suggested. “The state of the Eternal Library with your own eyes.”

“Wait… Explain. Please… I’m begging you. What do you mean we weren’t…”

Suddenly, the Archetype knelt before the woman and clasped her face. She pushed her forehead against hers and gazed into her eyes, consuming every ounce of emotion from the depths of her being.

“You and I are not so different. Ah… Those eyes are so utterly delectable. Another servant created and betrayed by her master, kept in the dark for as long as she could remember, only to one day find out that their master is not as virtuous as she thought.”

“You… What are you… The Authors… they wouldn’t dare try to destroy the Library.”

“Destroy? You’re mistaken. Books have been stolen. Pages torn and taken away, recontextualized for illicit tales. The prophecy of cinder was no different. Its pages were torn long before anything could be done.”

The Archetype released the woman, deeply inhaling the banquette of emotions that coursed through her.

“So the reason why Expositionists couldn’t confirm the truth was…”

Expositionists had the ability to know the truth of the present, so long as that truth existed in a booked form within the Eternal Library. Every event, and every word spoken was bound to be archived. Once a piece of information was removed from the Eternal Library, then that information could never return as it was written.

This meant that there was more to the tale of the prophecy of cinder than they realized if the Archetype of Ego was telling the truth.

“Cinder’s Prophecy… if what you’re saying is real then… why would you destroy that book but to hide the truth of the prophecy. Unless…”

Scheherazade eyes widened at the realization. It was not that it was erased for its illicit teachings or horrible depictions of the future. Rather, it was torn apart to prevent the Expositionists from ever interpreting it as anything else.

This allowed the narrative to be controlled by other members. And with no way to verify it, and wityh their push to manufacture the Amalgam as the harbinger of the end, it would be impossible to believe otherwise.

“Come. Confirm it for yourself. Be at ease. The last Expositionist taken under our wing is still alive and well. As a matter of fact, she lives a life of luxury as one of Act X’s own.”

“… Take me. I… If the Authors…”

“If they are traitors?”

“Then… I…”

“You’ll figure it out in due time. For now, I must ask you once more.”

The Archivist extended an arm to the Expositionist.

“Are you a guest of mine, or an invader of the Nexus?”

The blade still dangled precariously above her.

If the Archetype was right, and if she was truly allowed to see it all with her own two eyes…

“I’m… I’m your guest. Please. Let me see it. I beg of you. Please… take me. I’ll do anything… I… what do I do if you’re right? If the Authors never intended to save the Eternal Library?”

… then she would have no choice but to swap sides.

“You will loathe them, and you will come to love the Nexus. Come. You and the Archivist have a story to share.”