POV: The Knight
Broken Mansion Ritual Hall
The absolute spam of notifications brought by his power had the knight baffled at the amount of things that had been awarded by his power; not wanting to be swayed by them, he commanded them to be organized by order of importance.
First, he would see the DP gain and then the special notifications.
While ignoring all previously seen notifications.
Notification summary of the notifications that were silenced:
You have visited Gotham´s Harbor for the first time. + 200 DP You have seen the sea for the first time (Well.... actually ....) + 200 DP You have discovered a secret sub aquatic League of Assassins Base + 200 DP You have met someone of importance to the World Scarecrow (Jonathan Crane) + 1000 DP You have tasted 50 different toxin serums + 100 DP You have been affected by a special toxic brew and not ended up insane. + 200 DP You have put out of their misery 4 absolutely insane humans + 200 DP By being affected by the Law of [Gotham], you have opened the section Spirituality. Section opened
You have been subjected to something that tried to change your very being physically and mentally.
You have earned Resistance 1 and Concentration 1
Combat Section By suffering inhuman levels of pain and stress, getting mentally tortured, and more by a master manipulator, you have earned Psychology 1 and Emotions 1
Science Section
Spirituality Section
By being in the sight of an important being partially possessing someone, you have connected with the green, the red, the white, and the black. (Lucky you.)
You have gained some fame from the ones that detected your existence in this universe.
No DP shall be rewarded for tangential involvement by pure chance.
You have earned:
Plants 1
Blood 1
Life 1
Entrophy 1
DP spent on characteristic upgrade
- 1060 DP
Slowly seeing the notifications, he realized that the ones that talked about sections were correlated to what the back of the note contained.
In specific, it was the mention of unlocking talents. Looking at the note while watching the screen, he read both.
{In your sheet, you will see talents. You didn’t have them before because you can only integrate them when you are reborn on the Home rift. Like characteristics, talents represent your potential in a specific field, not your current expertise or knowledge. }
{Normally, normal people have between 1 and 3 points in a talent if they have any at all, and talented people can have more.}
{The only way to get good use out of your talent is to actually learn and train; don't be lazy!}
"(Alright, so talents, let me learn things. I think that is useful.)"
Looking at all the notifications of DP gain, he concluded that getting Destiny Points was going to be easy, which also brought his attention to the last notification that showed how a lot of his DP were spent on an upgrade.
{By the way, as you have already seen, I have spent your Destiny Points on upgrading you; this will help you in a lot of ways, especially in the mind department. Take a look at your sheet once you finish reading this.}
{Also here is an explanation about the characteristics.}
While reading further into the notes from Lib, elsewhere in Arkham, a brutal fight was going on.
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POV Robin
Arkham
When both of the Wonder Duo separated from the suppressing fire, they proceeded to take down half of the inmates armed in the catwalk.
Batman, after finishing the last crook, ordered him to follow the plan, which meant having Robin waiting in the sewers of the containment zone till he signaled him to exit to the zone where he would end up facing Freeze.Robin would ambush whoever would ambush Batman after he got distracted with Mister Freeze.
And now he was running from a squad of assassins that had seemingly known of Batman's prediction and plan to separate from him, looking to either kill or kidnap him.
{All characteristics are more profound than what you think they are; they are not a mere number; they are part of your being and have many hidden details that you need to discover.}
{For example, Vitality }
Robin saw a bended part of the catwalk from where he could attain an elevated position seemingly hidden. The path to it was upscale and would have to be manually climbed without tools in perfect stealth to not be detected.
{Vitality can be something as simple as how much stamina you have to how well you can resist death magic.}
The cold protrusions from the edges of the half-frozen, broken catwalk gave small nudges of pain through the gloves Robin wore. His soft hands screamed in futile protest against the dangerous climb.
{It can be something like how malleable your flesh is or how many calluses you have on your hands. Remember, a characteristic is not only what you have; it is also what you can do. }
{Like how many bullets can someone take before dying. You are not going to do that, but the characteristic covers everything from bad ideas to sacrifices to weird interactions.}
Up on the bended ledge, he discovered his pursuers. They walked in perfect silence, communicating between them by incredibly small finger movements through the shadows at incredibly fast speed.
While Robin was above them and in the shadow of the bended catwalk, he knew that it would not be long before he would be discovered.
"(They are probably trained in tracking.)" Batman had told him many tales from his days agaisnt the League and of how powerfull they were.
So he began to arm some of his arsenal.
Thunder roared over Arkham, initiating one of the typical nightly storms. Mean while the assassins scanned the zone for their prey, Tim began assembling a series of chain links from the hidden compartments in his suit and tool belt. While he assembled his weapon, he didn’t forget to watch around for any instances of the assassins discovering him.
{Perception. It not only makes you sense better with your senses, but it also gives you better coordination.It also helps you use your perception to do things like multitasking or looking for a solution to a mental problem. }
The assassins regrouped down under Tim after not noticing him, thanks to the suit and the cover, but their training had made it so that they didn't make the simple mistake of not looking above them, to make sure that they didn´t leave themselves open to an ambush from above. They were spread across the lowest floor, close to the stairs that led up to the catwalk.
A shadow wearing slightly green regalia and a dark wooden mask came from the stairs; he carried around an air of superiority; clearly, he was in charge of this squad.
"The bat is being distracted by the other squads. We have to quickly catch the kid. Where is he?" His voice demanded an answer from his subordinates.
"Sorry we haven't been able to find him, but we know that he hasn't left the premises."
The mask leader examined for a second what his subordinate said. Looking toward the second floor, he began to think about the beginning of the chase when both were separated after they jumped from the catwalk and avoided their first ambush.
{Perception is not only what you can see with your eyes; it's also what you can notice while you think about a problem, and it's also how well you listen to your inner instincts.}
Scanning the ground with his gaze, the leader simulated the events that were being related to him by his subordinates; suddenly, being struck by inspiration, he looked at where Tim was hiding, and they both stared at each other for a moment.
Tim, already prepared for the confrontation, threw a very powerful flashbang dart to the leader while he moved to signal Tim's position.
The blinding light surprised some of the assassins closest to the leader, leaving them stunned for a second. But years of training made it so that everyone made a dodge from any possible attack while closing their eyes in an instant to avoid the flash. Leaving them not so disoriented.
{Endurance can also, as a curiosity, help you to recuperate in some cases from fatigue and other maladies. After all, if your body can withstand something like a stab wound without trouble, then a minor illness like dizziness should be much easier to recover from.}
The assassins recuperated from the flash. Looking around for Robin, they looked directly at an obvious trail that was left by Robin leading up the catwalk, indicating a possible direction to his escape.
"That trail is a decoy." The leader said before anyone moved " He has left through that way. I have seen him." He pointed at hallway.
The leader spoke before the squad began the chase, he seemed to not have been affected by the flash, or at least he said so.
Following orders was an iron rule for lower-ranked members of the league like them, if it resulted in failure, the consequences would fall on their leader. At worst, they might suffer a physical beating for failing to apprehend the apprentice, while their leader would face public humiliation, beratement, and a personal lesson from his superiors.
Deciding to follow his orders, the squad arranged themselves into a formation that left no angle vulnerable to exploitation. Moving in the direction indicated by the wooden-masked leader, they descended into the hallways of the lower floors, where faint traces of recent movement hinted at their quarry's presence.
The assassin leading the charge grew overconfident. Distracted by his own anticipation, he moved ahead of the others, his pace quickening as the trail became clearer.
He was the first to cross the threshold into the room where the trail led—and his recklessness sealed his fate. Moving too fast to react, he only heard the ominous click of metal scraping too late.
{Endurance also brings up an interesting point: Do you remember what I said about vitality helping against death magic?}
{While Endurance helps with all kinds of damage that you can suffer (It is not only physical endurance). It is the characteristic most clearly interconnected.}
The assassin caught in time that an enormous shape was falling over him with the shape of a heavy broken metal door.
{Interconnected: What is it you say? Well, if someone threw you a punch, it would not only be your endurance alone protecting you against the damage, it would also be your strength trying to negate the enemy's strength and your dexterity trying to unbalance or alleviate the force of the impact.}
{Similar things would happen on damage that is of a particularly special nature, like energy or magic.}
He instinctively tried to dodge back, while raising his arms into a defensive stance in front of him. In that crucial moment, his training paid off, allowing him to survive the brutal impact.
The force of the door crashing into him was overwhelming. His arms buckled under its weight, slamming against his ribs. The impact was devastating—both his ribs and arm bones fractured from the sheer force. Yet, his quick reflexes saved him from a direct hit to his entire body.
The door toppled him to the ground, its weight smashing into his lower body as well. He collapsed beneath it, pinned by the massive slab.
Seeing the state of the first member in the formation, they all dispersed under the new wing of the prison, blending in with the shadows while they took protection from any other falling dangers.
The leader, visibly irritated by the complications in their hunt, began to fully grasp the warning they'd received: the apprentice of that man would not be easy prey.
He had already proven himself far beyond the average target.
Meanwhile, Robin was slowly going down the stairs of the wing, looking for a route to the communal sewers that all wings from the containment zone shared. While he took caution to not alarm the assassins of his descent from the elevated position, he had an elevated heart rate from having had to both run and finish his stealth chain just to set a simple trap while he planted some mine darts on the most obvious climbing routes to where he had thrown the broken door.
He couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for Bruce's teachings. The distinction between fighting typical martial artists and battling these relentless hunters had been drilled into him. Yet, seeing it in action and experiencing it firsthand were vastly different things.
His stealth chain had been the linchpin of his strategy—a silent mechanical link system functioning like a slower, quieter grappling hook. It gave him both speed and stamina conservation, advantages that had been essential to setting his ambush.
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And now it would be time to prove his training with it, for if he wanted his plan to reunite with Batman to work, he would need to both take down some of the assassins left while he entered the sewers, where the use of his weapon would be complicated by the lack of movement space.
{Intelligence is also a complicated attribute because it also has a lot of interconnections. And because you might have a slight confusion with it.}
The leader ordered his men to fan out across the wing. Staying clustered would only make them more vulnerable to traps and hinder their ability to maneuver, forcing them to jostle each other when evading attacks.
Instead, they would exploit their true strength: stealth and precision. Many blades hidden in the shadows, each wielded by a master, against an inexperienced kid. Surely, one-on-one, they would overwhelm him.
{Intelligence is not how smart you are, nor how fast you learn, or how much of a genius you are.}
Explosions from the dart mines echoed through the corridors, some catching the vigilant assassins off guard, while others were swiftly disarmed by their skillful hands. The explosive darts served their purpose well, sowing confusion and buying precious time for Robin.
Time that Tim used to his advantage. Moving silently through the shadows, he picked them off one by one with his stealth chain. His mastery of the weapon, remarkable for someone so young, revealed its terrifying potential in ambushes.
The stealth chain was versatile and deadly—a tool capable of strangling, grappling, and blocking attacks, effective at both close and long ranges. It was perfectly suited for Tim’s run-and-hide tactics, but its complexity made it a weapon few could wield proficiently, especially in terrain as challenging as this.
Tim had spent a grueling month mastering it, a process that demanded both martial skill and ingenuity. Operating the chain's mechanical micromotor without damaging its delicate mechanism required not just strength but precision and intellect.
Even with Bruce’s one-on-one instruction in martial arts and his guidance on assembling and disassembling the weapon, it had taken time—and extraordinary dedication—for Tim to truly master it.
And all of that for a future off chance to use this weapon.
Now, as he moved through the shadows, he felt the synergy between his stealth suit and his weapon. The effort had been worth it.
{It's about how effectively you use your mind and body, how well you perform when you are truly focused. It's about utilizing what you've learned and applying it with precision and purpose.}
{It is a very important characteristic that helps with every single talent and that helps with almost anything you do.}
Of the squad that had once hunted him, only four assassins and their leader remained. The tunnel leading to the Arkham sewers was finally within sight. Deciding it was time to draw them in, Tim made an obvious sound in his location, a calculated move to bait them closer.
Spotting a lone assassin, he carefully studied his movements, predicting where the man would go if startled. With precision, Tim charged silently, closing the distance in an instant. Launching himself into the air, he aimed his chain at one of the cell bars, using it to propel himself forward with greater force.
{Strength and dexterity will also help a lot with many actions that you make, for it is not only how strong or dextrous you are at doing something , but it is also how well you can use any kind of force and how well you manipulate it.}
{A typical example would be centrifugal force and muscle control. But you can also control your blood flow and temperature with practice.}
With practiced techniques, the assassin dodged, and Robin aimed with his feet in position to strike the head of the assassin. Too slow to react, the assassin raised his arms in a futile attempt to block. Robin’s powerful kick connected squarely with his head, leaving him completely stunned and disoriented.
With the assassin down, Tim made small, deliberate noises as he descended the stairs, subtly broadcasting his position. The calculated distraction drew the remaining assassins toward the noise, only for them to find another of their comrades crumpled against the wall, incapacitated.
The leader, clearly irritated at provocation from Robin, decided that they were going in and that it was time to show his might.
While they descended the stairs to the sewers from the containment zone, the putrid and humid smell from the underground caused a small gag of displeasure in the leader.
"(Being reduced to a busyboy by the league. If it wasn't for that greedy idiot of Crane, I could have been continuing studying Ivy's body.)"
"(My arcane talents are better served for the betterment of the league finances.)"
Grumbling at himself about how terrible the night was turning out to be, the leader moved his fingers rhythmically. He made both his fingers and the eyes in his wooden mask glow with a green light.
A guttural sound was brought out from his throat as a consequence of his spell work.
{Arcane is a special attribute exclusively related to the soul, it deals with soul energy and its use. It will help in many ways to resist magic, obviously, and in many other ways.}
{I couldn't get much information out of the last characteristics, sorry.}
A bestial shadow erupted from the leader’s body, its emergence accompanied by an unnatural howl. As its glowing eyes opened to the world, they locked onto the nearest figure—an assassin. Without hesitation, the shadow lunged, claws poised to tear into its would-be ally.
The entity resembled a primitive, humanoid scarecrow, its form twisted and grotesque, crafted from decaying wood. It exuded malice, a force barely contained.
Only the leader’s swift reaction saved the assassin. With a sharp motion of his hand, the leader conjured a glowing green chain, wrapping it tightly around the shadow’s body and halting its attack just before it could strike.
"Not him, you dumb Murkwraith. Damn it! ... Why are all the Slavic undead so useless?" he spat, his voice filled with both irritation and disdain.
Through his portable night-vision binoculars, Tim observed the altercation at the sewer entrance. From experience, he knew that while the leader appeared to lack experience leading the squad, he was undoubtedly dangerous.
With his use of magic, he was going to have to get creative to take down the last three remaining assassins that protected the wood sorcerer.
The appearance of the shadow confirmed that his original plan had been compromised. Undeterred, he swiftly transitioned to one of his backup strategies.
As the leader regained control of the undead shadow, he released the chain and commanded it to hunt Robin. The wooden specter tore through the sewers, setting off every mine cord and trap Robin had carefully laid. Ignoring most of the damage, the shadow eventually tracked him to a narrow tunnel.
Launching for him, the spirit felt the impact of a dart against its body, immediately the dart exploded onto a brilliant flash that briefly illuminated the sewers right from inside the ethereal specter.
The explosion burned the shadow slightly and forced it to kneel. Moments later, the assassins trailing the shadow rounded the corner, after catching sight of their spectral ally and hearing the sound of footsteps echoing from another tunnel.
Without delay, the assassins unleashed a flurry of shuriken and kunai aimed precisely at Robin’s vital points. He narrowly dodged the projectiles, evading them with practiced precision. Reacting instantly, he dropped a smoke bomb, enveloping the area in a thick, blinding fog.
Undeterred by the obscuring fog, the assassins decided to enter, their movements silent and calculated, their eyes scanning for any sign of their elusive target.
Knowing that in a direct fight he didn't stand a chance and he would be easily disarmed, he decided to avoid close contact for the most part, and seeing this, the leader decided to force his shadow to enter the fray. Materializing a chain to forcefully bring the spirit to fight his prey.
Robin, seeing this, smiled, for his plan was falling into place, If Bruce’s advice about magic users held up, he had this in the bag.
But the leader began chanting Slavic incantations, his mask darkening as twisted, rotting vines spread across its surface. The magic cleared the fog from his vision, revealing Robin standing amidst the haze. Consumed by fury, the leader let out a deafening scream, joined by the unearthly howl of the specter.
This scream entered Robin's mind and harmed him.
{Mind is also a soul characteristic; it governs the intensity and control of mental energy. It doesn’t make you smarter, but it allows for greater focus and application.}
The roar felt like a storm raging in his head, threatening to overwhelm him. His ears rang painfully as the noise intensified. Gritting his teeth, Robin clamped his hands over his ears and forced himself to dodge the charge from both the specter and the raging screams from the caster.
The spirit followed him around constantly trying to slash him with his claws. The sorcerer, meanwhile, continued his cursed scream that was putting stress on the young robin.
{Willpower will help with your soul energy, just like the mind, but it also has many powerful effects. Though do not confound it for actual willpower.}
Robin was constantly dodging in the fog, both the spirit and the slashes from the assassin’s blades.
A flurry of movements abated the fog in the sewers where everyone fought.
The sorcerer, ignoring all of it, was single-mindedly screaming, continuing the cast of the scream spell that abated robins minds. Which gave him quite the surprise when he suddenly appeared in front of him with the fog now dispersing.
"What?! How are you alive, you little shit?" His rough voice protested from the vocal effort.
"I have had my lesson with magic users like you, and while the trick of summoning got me knocked out once. I have come to learn that you guys are not so powerful with your magic as you like to think."
The fog now a bit more dispersed for the time parted slightly to reveal the summoned MurkWraith over the bodies of the assassins leeching off some of their life essence.It had seemingly obeyed the single-minded command of fight.
Surprised by the failure of his summon, the sorcerer quickly prepared to cast another spell to bolster his weakened state. Seeing the movement, Robin acted swiftly. He threw a handful of silver at the sorcerer while simultaneously delivering a punch to his face, shattering the mask.
The silver seemingly reacting with the sorcerer shined brightly over him, burning away all the green magic power on him, which made the specter disappear into the air, exiled to the dark realm from where he came from.
The sorcerer was left exhausted from the reaction too.
The face of the leader, now unmasked, showed quite some scars, he had a dark appearance, and several deep scars covered his face from one side to the other, as if an enormous claw had slashed across his face, leaving permanent marks of agony.
His eyelid seemed to be missing, and his eyes were bloodied; in the center of his retina a putrid and dark tumor seemed to form.
Tim felt a complex mix of emotions from the fight : pride at having won such a difficult battle, relief for correcting his past mistake with the cult and the woman, and a morbid curiosity about how the sorcerer’s twisted appearance had come to be.
"(I wonder if he did that to himself to have magic or if I can steal his magic trinkets to investigate them.)"
With practiced efficiency, he grabbed some rope from the assassin’s grappling hooks and expertly secured the sorcerer, rendering him immobile.
Knowing that time was of the essence, Robin remembered the Arkham blueprints while he got ready to try to get some info out of the leader that clearly had planned for them to get separated.
"(Bruce said that in case of being separated, I had to meet him at the sewers that led right into the heart of the containment zone. Is it possible that something has retained him?)"
His doubt and his remembrance of the strategies in case of a split-up got interrupted by a sudden temblor that shook the sewers. Aside from a stir in the dust and humidity in the air, a sudden cold breeze passed all over the building, leaving everyone on it chilled.
The sorcerer, almost mumbling with his last strength, spoke.
"It doesn't matter, child. Your master must have already discovered the surprise that they had prepared for him. He is not going to survive."
While angered by the provocation, a now more centered Tim knew that having him speak was going to be the right decision.
Ready to begin a quick interrogation, Tim began using what he had learned from Bruce to stoke the villain's ego to sing every relevant piece of information that he could have.
Back on the subterranean mansion The knight had just finished reading the section about characteristics from the extensive note that Lib had given him.
“So, it seems my power simplifies things, but it doesn’t fully explain itself. Not that it’s a major problem.” he mused, setting the notes aside.
While the information was undoubtedly helpful, there were still sections he needed to revisit. Between the chaos of his first day of life and the slew of minor notifications he had muted with brief comments, there was a lot to process.
Stretching his legs from the lecture, he looked at his oxidized blade and then at his naked body.
“Oh,” he muttered, realization dawning. “That’s another thing I forgot.”
Understanding the concept of shame in a vague, nascent way, he glanced around the room, searching for something to cover himself with. His search yielded a surprise: a door.
“(But I inspected every single part of this room yesterday. How could I have missed that?)”
He paused, the thought lingering in his mind, a strange sense of disconnect washing over him. His head felt oddly light, as though his attention had been elsewhere, consumed by something he couldn't quite grasp. Was his memory slipping, or had he simply overlooked it in the routine of his search? A fleeting doubt gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside.
Shaking off the confusion, the Knight walked to the door, opened it, and stepped through. On the other side, he found what appeared to be a changing room, filled with neatly arranged clothing and an assortment of ornate but otherwise useless decorations.
Realizing the utility of the space, he retrieved a set of clothes and returned to the notes to read the final section about character characteristics while simultaneously opening his own sheet.
{A normal human usually has 10 in each characteristic, while an average athlete ranges between 15 and 20.}
{However, for other people, the way characteristics work is fundamentally different.}
Full sheet:
Name : None Nickname : The knight DP : 2250 Undead Form Conditons: The itch Base Value Modifiers (Flaw) Total Vitality (VIT) 10 +1 11 Endurance (END) 10 10 Strength (STR) 10 10 Dexterity (DEX) 10 10 Perception (PER) 10 +1 11 Intelligence (INT) 14 -2 12 Mind (MIN) 14 -2 12 Arcane (ARC) 14 -2 12 Willpower (WIL) 14 -2 12
Combat Defense 1 Resistance 1 Concentration 1 Strategy 1 Science Biology 1 Psycology 1 Chemestry 1 Spirituality
Emotions 1
Plants 1
Blood 1
Life 1
Entrophy 1
The knight got baffled at how it came out to be. No wonder he was so lightheaded; no wonder just now he remembered that being naked is shameful. No fucking wonder.He literally had a tenth of the intelligence of a normal person then.
Walking around the room, he grabbed some old clothes and put them on. His entire attire smelled of dust, but at least now he was somewhat presentable.
While doing this, the young knight tripped on something once again, only to discover what it was: the [Rat Memento], which he had acquired in his first fight.
"(Now that I think about it, why in the hell have I been keeping this? It is disgusting.)"
Throwing another of his possessions that he acquired when he was lightheaded for saying a better thing into a corner. The teenager frowned after thinking something.
"(Wait a minute, where have I kept this?)"
The head, bloodied and dead, stared at him till he remembered a notification from his first fight.
[You have found a piece of equipment (rusty butterfly knife). Being of low quality, storing it does not require DP.]
The memory clicked. Somehow, he'd been carrying these items without conscious effort. Curiosity piqued, he concentrated, feeling an instinctive pull within himself. Suddenly, a new screen materialized before his eyes—a detailed list of items he had unknowingly stored.
Inventory Rusty butterfly knife Rat Memento
In after being brought out, another notification also showed up.
[Do you want to store old clothes? It will cost 60 DP.]
"No wonder I had both; it seems this storage space kept them together." Feeling his power in action, he willed the rat head to leave his inventory. As its name disappeared from the list, the grotesque object disintegrated into dust.
"Okay, why did it turn into dust?. Damn it. I’ve literally got too many questions. I will investigate it later. I want to store these clothes."
At the affirmation, the notification disappeared, and a seemingly mild wave of air covered the clothes for a second. He now felt a very small bond with them, almost barely even notable if one wasn't being focused.
"I need to get out of the sewers first. And I only know one exit for now."
While he was avoiding explicitly thinking about it because of both fear and the desire not to anger Lib. He had an idea in mind about what he was going to do; if he was careful, he could try to go back to investigate where he had gotten retained.
He knew that it would be dangerous to go back to the place where he got tortured, but this newfound power after what Lib did had given him hope that he could outrun danger (or fight it). If it became more than he could chew.
"(I don't really want to go. But I must just be the nerves, rigth?.)"
Shaking off the eerie feeling of déjà vu, he refocused on his plan. Clothed and armed, he set out again, descending into the underground pathways toward the city sewers. As he walked, he read over the information Lib had bended from his power.
"Oh, I get it now. It’s a joke whit bend. Well, I suppose I should laugh." His chuckle was hollow and forced as it echoed through the tunnels.
Unnoticed by him, his nerves manifested physically—his hand furiously scratching at his back, leaving pale streaks across his skin.
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POV: Library of memories
Deep within the Knight’s Mind Palace, the Library pulsed with light, illuminating fragments of memories and echoes of personalities flowing through its archives. Despite the appearance of control, the Library was engaged in a delicate and grueling task: maintaining balance.
Every fragment was part of a soul, carefully extracted and bound within the Knight. The flow of information was unregulated and chaotic, and the Library struggled to keep the fragments from either vaulting to freedom or asserting dominance over the mind of the knight.
Internally, it had to use Pygmalio’s bindings, ensuring that the volatile memories didn’t scatter or escape. Externally, it moved with great care, knowing the Knight’s fragile mental state was barely a day old. The trauma that irrigated his psyche was raw, a slightly cracked foundation.
And then there were the DAMNED IDEAS seeded by Pygmalio, creeping into the cracks of the Knight’s mind like invasive roots. At the heart of the Library, where the bindings converged, a pulsing golden symbol emerged—the very mark of the "dream" Pygmalio sought to impose. Threads of light stretched from this symbol, binding the Library’s fragments and memories to the Knight.
The symbol flickered ominously, as if alive.
"I screamed at you that you were making a mistake," Pygmalio’s voice echoed faintly within the Library’s depths. "And you ignored me. I hope you live long enough to watch yourself destroyed by the very being your selfish dreams brought into existence."