Airi merrily hopped over toppled bookshelves and piles of documents, ignorant of a neglected state that this section of the library was in. Broken shelves and splinters were scattered around and the wood seemed to be rotten due to termites.

Airi bumped into the archivist, who had suddenly stopped in front of her, without as much as a warning. Airi's head lifted, staring at the old man, who was deeply in thoughts and stood in front of a large double door, locked with a heavy chain.

"Airi." - The archivist spoke. - "You're not ready."

"...but ..."

"No buts."

"You promised." - Airi pouted.

"Maybe another time."

"At least, tell me what their ship is!"

"The Antinomy."

"...and? What does it look like?"

"It's a typical steel warship, although some of its plates are made from melted crimson moondust, while others resemble thousands of distorted faces. It has golden embellishments that form four lines at the edges of the ship and a circle that surrounds a large symbol of a roaring lion. On its side, are symbols of cards, that is a club, diamond, spade, and heart. It always travels in a crimson mist and its weapons are rays of red light that can phase through anything and cause madness in these struck."

"Why are they one of the twelve?"

"They faced the judgment of three false gods, and left unscathed. The corpses of gods still drift in the nether nebula, named after the event, 'Tribunal of Three'".

"Whoa!"

"...but, that's not everything. Their nameless leader is capable of a heresy-class spell. It seems that it utilizes aspects of time and nether. The incantation should be known to you – What once was, shall never be."

Airi shuddered. She did not want to hear those words.

"Now, we should get moving." - The archivist spoke. - "The aura of this place, it can affect a soul."

The archivist silently walked away and Airi followed. They marched for long hours without as much as a break, until it was already an evening. It was dark in the archive, yet the archivist didn't want to stop, like he was being afraid of being followed by shadows.

The wooden bookshelves soon were replaced by gigantic clockwork machines, which seemed to record encoded data on punched cards, but that was not the end of their journey, it was just the beginning. Mechanical computers were slowly replaced by smaller and smaller machines, powered by various electrical generators, until the two arrived at a room with a fusion reactor, surrounded by many terminals, controls, and keyboards.

The archivist logged in and a few lights illuminated the room. It was nothing significant, but enough to see buttons in the dark. After a few more commands were inputted, a holographic image of a ship appeared in front of Airi.

"This, is the Goliath." - The archivist explained. The ship had a crude design and cuboid shape, separated into four equal sections with gaps between them, they formed a cross shape at the front. In the intersection of the gaps was a glowing cylinder, which was the core of the ship.

"Oh!!! It's the ship of Gentle Giants."

"Correct. You already know their story."

"Mm. Yes. They are one of the twelve for their peaceful rebellion against their masters. Countless slave nations were freed due to their protests."

"In the end, it turned out their masters were too dependant on these giant machines and had to bend to their will. Nothing changed for the gentle giants themselves, they remained kind and faithful servants until the inevitable death of their masters. It's a shame that Gentle Giants will go extinct, but such is the fate of those incapable of fighting."

Airi was saddened, knowing that these words were true. - "Is their ship, any special?"

"No, not really, but it's the biggest of all ships. Almost ten thousand times their size. It's like an ark, for the lost and forsaken. To this day, it serves as a hideout to these wishing for freedom, and as their ticket to refuge civilizations."

"I really like it." - Airi uttered.

The archivist smiled and patted Airi's head. - "I will print you a model to keep, on our way back."

Hearing this, Airi's face gleamed with happiness. Airi was visibly excited.

"For now, let's rest until morning. Tomorrow, we will head to the archive, where the records of the Blight are kept."

The lights went out and Airi fell asleep on the archivist's knees, between large data racks. The archivist, however, was vigilant. As soon as he was sure that Airi won't wake up, he moved and put the child's head on his bags, then covered Airi with a blanket.

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The archivist pulled a pen out of his pocket, its tip was soaked in white, starry light. With a few deft motions of his arm, the archivist drew an image of a gorilla.

"Go." - He uttered silently, then sat beside Airi and waited.

[ . . . ]

In the morning, Airi found the archivist sound asleep. Knowing that he was exhausted, Airi didn't hesitate to prepare the breakfast. Airi boiled the water and grilled the sandwiches, making sure to add a lot of cheese. The strong aroma of coffee was enough to force the archivist's eyes to open, although the man himself, was still very drowsy.

"Mmm. You didn't sleep well, did you?" - Airi asked, concerned.

The archivist stretched his arms and yawned. - "No... but it shouldn't be a problem as long as my little assistant remembers about my coffee."

Airi smiled and quickly served the food.

"Thank you, Airi." - The archivist said as he lifted a mug. - "The records of blight shouldn't be too far off, but first, I would like you to wait here, while I check something."

"Mmm. Okay."

The archivist finished his meal and waved goodbye to Airi. He backtracked to the clockwork zone, scanning the area with his eyes. Some of the large gears, that moved the machinery, were bent or cracked. The archivist noticed white smudges of ink on their surface, but as he knelt to inspect it, two silver lights blinked in a distance.

The archivist was sure that he barely dodged two daggers aimed at his neck, but it was until he heard a loud hiss of escaping steam. A brass pipe exploded right behind him, knocking the old man on the floor.

When the archivist regained his consciousness, he noticed a short figure in a distance, slowly walking towards him.

"Francesco..." - He uttered in disbelief.

It was one of the jesters, in crimson attire. Francesco was about one and a half meter tall and wore a plain white ceramic mask with a distorted, noseless face. It had three eyes, unevenly shifted to the right side, and a crooked half-smile, half a sad grimace on the left.

Francesco spun a dagger in his hand, then knelt over the archivist and tilted his head.

"What do you want, you cursed creature!?"

Francesco moved his arm to his chin and tilted his head, as If he was pondering, then just shrugged, like he didn't know.

"Av..." - The archivist began to chant, but Francesco quickly moved the dagger under the archivist's neck.

"Shh." - The jester signaled with a finger on his lips, then moved fingers to the archivist's robe and took out a ring of keys.

"You d..."

"Shhh!!!" - Francesco pushed the dagger against the archivist's skin, cutting it lightly.

A portal in form of a wooden window appeared behind Francesco, who just walked inside and disappeared.

Archivist lied on the floor, staring blankly. His eyes were open in a horrific realization. The jesters had now access to the Academy and he couldn't even warn anyone. After a period of nonacceptance, the old man shifted to a sitting position and meditated.

"What shall I do?"

The archivist stood up and began to remove dust from his robe. He walked silently, back to Airi, and stopped only to print a model of the Goliath. As he stared at the colorless, grey replica, his expression became one of concern.

"Airi will have to go in there." - He muttered, unsatisfied, then shoved the model in his pocket, the one which used to keep the keys.

[ . . . ]

Airi waited patiently, the archivist walked in at a hurried pace. He stared at Airi with a stern, serious look, until the child noticed that something is not right.

"Airi." - The archivist uttered.

"Yes?" - Airi replied, slightly frightened.

Noticing this, the archivist fixed his expression. - "Oh, nothing. It's nothing. I think, we are ready to continue our journey."

"Mmm. Okay." - Airi said, unsure If to be anxious.

"Here, your model of Goliath." - The archivist extended his hand and smiled.

Airi accepted the gift and quickly forgot about the situation. As they walked, Airi was too focused on thinking about how to paint the new toy, to notice that the archivist kept worrying, and to notice how ominous the aura of the library had become. As they walked, dozens of candles on large chandeliers ignited, revealing an area constructed solely from ivory and bones. Many monuments and white slabs were inscribed in a crimson liquid.

When Airi finally noticed, the child's hands clutched the archivist's robe. Airi was staring at red banners that were situated below skulls pierced onto sharp tips of their wooden shafts, recalling the parents and Horegon.

"Why... why are we here?" - Airi spoke, in a flustered voice.

"To learn of the Blight."

"I... I don't want to... anymore."

The archivist looked at Airi, knowing that the fate of the academy was in the child's hands. It was one of the things that Airi had to learn to be afraid of.

"It's necessary, Airi. I promise, it'll be quick." - The archivist encouraged.

"Mmm. No." - Airi tried to run off, but the archivist grabbed the child by the hand.

"Airi. If you're scared... just close your eyes and hold my hand."

"But I don't want to! I don't want to!"

"Airi!" - The archivist almost yelled.

Hearing the archivist's raised voice, the child stopped protesting and hugged to his robe. - "Don't let me go!"

"I won't, but you need to listen."

"Mmm." - Airi nodded, a bit scared and they moved towards a circular room without a roof. It was made out of leather. Inside was a single table and a book made entirely out of human skin. The archivist skimmed through the records and started describing what the Blight is.

"The Blight is a faction of flesh monstrosities, thriving in endless bloodshed. They have no goal or leader, it's a force of nature with only one purpose, to kill and consume. Their ships are living creatures or biomass-infested wrecks, with its current flag unit being an all-devouring worm, capable of eating even stars. It has a large jaw with billions of steel, rotating teeth, surrounded by seventy eyes like that of a spider. Below the worm hangs a forest of extendable tentacles, which are used to attack and immobilize its victims."

"Is it... the reason all the stars die?" - Airi asked, still closing her eyes and slightly scared.

"No... but given the capability of blight's swarm to consume whole planes in a few months, and its size, they were given the status of the fourth biggest threat to existence. That's how they were granted the role, of a rather infamous, faction."

"What about the nightmares, aren't they a big threat too? Why aren't they a faction?"

"It's simple. Do you remember, how the nightmares are born?"

"It's the monster."

"Yes... and the monster, and the witch, are a different category. The same goes for their derivatives."

Airi clutched the archivist's hand tighter. - "Why?"

"They're beyond our understanding. Singular beings, capable of altering realities on a whim. Many false gods are like a speck of dust to them. It's not anything you can fight or outsmart."

"...then ...how do we survive?"

"I don't know, but even I believe, that those beings must be bound by some rules. This is, how we still manage to hide or escape."

"I'm scared..." - Airi uttered, still closing her eyes. - "...can we leave?"

The archivist closed the book, hiding the atrocities described in it. Airi didn't have to learn of them.

"I know, that you're scared, and scared, you should be." - The archivist spoke. - "But there are also fears that must be faced."

"What do you mean?"

"The next ship, will be the Scarecrow."

Airi gritted teeth and opened eyes, and although there were tears in them, they were burning with hatred.