There was a time in my previous life when I was drawn to science fiction, consuming movies and books with fervor. I can't recall where or when I first encountered the notion that a person who lived significantly longer than nature intended would alter psychologically to such an extent that they could no longer be considered human in the truest sense. It used to strike me as a fascinating philosophical concept, a mental exercise, nothing more. But now, its physical embodiment sits before me - the most potent Dark Adept, who has lived over two and a half centuries, an Inquisitor, a Legate of the Holy See, a man who has nearly lost all humanity.

Fear doesn't grip me; instead, I'm filled with a cold fury. For a moment, I seriously contemplate slipping into the Break and slicing open his neck with "Word." Abel claims he means me no harm, that he's my friend. Perhaps he genuinely believes this. Yet, this is precisely the instance where, as the saying goes, with friends like these, who needs enemies?

Regardless of my feelings towards Mr. Rock's character, despite viewing him as an opponent in some ways, he undeniably deserved my respect. Yes, exposing my true identity would be a significant blow, but one I could weather. It might even simplify things for me in some respects, potentially allowing me to become an open raig and opening up new opportunities. One thing is crystal clear - I would never kill Mr. Rock to maintain my anonymity.

But no one bothered to ask me.

The legate presumed he knew better than me what was in my best interest. He made his decision and followed through.

A dark wave of fury surged from deep within me. It was a struggle to suppress the sudden, overwhelming urge to kill. Clenching my teeth, I released a breath and declared:

"The audience is over, Legate." My voice was as cold as if these words were carried on the winter winds of the Mongolian steppes.

"Sire?" Abel de Diaz seemed genuinely taken aback, but nonetheless, he rose from his seat.

"You heard me perfectly, Legate." I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms over my chest, and met the Dark Adept's gaze head-on.

"Sire..." Abel didn't attempt a staring contest. Instead, he offered a deep bow, spun on his heel like a dancer, and exited the cafe through the main entrance.

As the door swung shut behind him, I allowed myself to unwind. My fingers trembled, and my throat was parched. I was shaking, not with fear but from residual anger. The waiter, who had been napping, profusely apologized for dozing off and failing to deliver my order promptly. The poor guy must have taken my barely concealed wrath personally. The encounter with the legate had ruined my appetite, but I forced myself to eat everything that was served to me. I didn't leave the cafe until I had drained the last drop of my prepaid tea. Once I stepped outside, I just started walking, directionless.

The recent events have been...

It feels as if someone uncorked a horn of plenty that had long been filled with troubles and tragedies, and unleashed a ceaseless torrent upon me.

Once I gathered myself and achieved some semblance of calm, I found myself standing on the embankment, clutching the railing so hard my hands ached. No, it can't continue like this! I can't afford to sink back into despondency and self-pity... Not now!

Tonight was another scheduled night training session with the BKDW. After what transpired with Zanh Kiem, I had contemplated skipping it, delegating my coaching duties to Crixus. But now, it's clear that I cannot avoid responsibilities and retreat back into my shell. With only a month left until the End of the World, and no knowledge of how to find this Door or prevent the Cataclysm, the least I can do is live this time with dignity.

I owe it to myself!

Gritting my teeth in determination, which alarmed a couple of nearby children, I turned and marched in the opposite direction. As I traversed almost a quarter of the city on foot, I scrutinized every door that came into my line of sight. I realized this was likely a futile exercise, but I needed to do something. Besides, the possibility of a "what if!" scenario always lingered, and my newly awakened Spark might provide some assistance. Therefore, making these walks around the capital a routine, and inspecting all the doors on the university island, seemed like a necessary course of action, even if it bordered on desperation. I couldn't just remain idle! As a result, my extensive "walk" lasted into the late evening, helping me regain my composure and tranquility.

I subsequently returned to the secret coastal cave to practice the projection technique on Metatron. As incensed as I am with the Legate of the Holy See, ignoring his lesson would be unwise. Naturally, neither the first nor the tenth attempt were successful. I've never been particularly adept at mastering new skills quickly, instead conquering them through tenacity and persistence. So, I'm confident that I'll gradually get the hang of this too. I refuse to believe that Zanh Kiem would miraculously awaken from his coma just to impart something trivial! Just before midnight, I left the cave and made my way to the Abode of Knowledge.

"The abbot's condition is stable."

Upon hearing these words from the "gardener," I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I quickly picked up my pace, Sliding towards the central square. I didn't want to be late for training. A block before my destination, Dobrynya intercepted me.

Since Baenre's death, we hadn't talked much. It wasn't for lack of trying on my part. Dobrynya held himself responsible for his friend's death, far more than I grieved for the loss of my Padawan. He couldn't attend the Breakthrough reflection because he was celebrating his birthday with his family. If he had left abruptly, his identity as a raig would have been immediately exposed. To me, it was a justifiable reason to miss one Breakthrough, and he initially thought so too. However, when he learned about his friend's demise, he started blaming himself, justifying his guilt by arguing that if he had been there to cover Baenre's back, Baenre would still be alive. I tried to lift this burden of guilt from him by asserting that his friend died following my orders. But Dobrynya wouldn't accept this argument, his logic was clear: my order was given for a reason, and Baenre had simply carried it out.

"Teacher."

"Student."

We exchanged formal bows.

"I've made a decision," he said. I tensed up at his words; they did not bode well.

"I'm listening."

"I applied for Novilter citizenship and received all the required documents today."

"Congratulations?" I replied, slightly puzzled, unsure where he was going with this.

"Now, when my parents' contract ends, and they return to Europe, I will stay here."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes!" His tone made it clear that he wouldn't change his mind. "My best friend, who was like a brother to me, died defending this city! I won't leave Wilflaes to those monsters! Never!" The Padawan took a step forward. "Will you support me?"

He seemed to have everything figured out, and I was unsure what kind of support he needed. Maybe he wanted me to meet his parents? It would be challenging, but I couldn't say no.

"Yes. You can count on me."

"Thank you, teacher!"

There was an unusual commotion at our regular meeting place atop the BKDW building. A crowd of Break Knights surrounded Halley, peppering him with questions.

"What's going on?" I asked Kael as she ran past me.

"Oh! Halley just announced that our curator from the Castle died in a car accident!"

"Wow!" My surprise was genuine; I had assumed the House on the Hill would keep this information under wraps.

"Exactly!" The girl huffed. "He always drove recklessly, taking full advantage of his immunity from traffic enforcement, and now... Well, it caught up with him."

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It was clear that the twins never really liked Mr. Rock, viewing his presence as a necessary evil. Still, they respected the curator in their own way. I listened to the conversation around me and realized most of the raigs were not so much interested in Rock's death itself but rather in how it might affect the Castle's allied obligations. A quick glance revealed that only three people truly cared about the loss: Halley, Rex, and Maya. Predicting that the men would handle their feelings independently, I approached Maya.

"How are you holding up?" I asked, settling down beside her on the parapet.

"Holding up?" She echoed, sounding mildly surprised. "You know, I've grown accustomed to it. Accustomed to death all around. To noble deaths, accidental deaths, foolish deaths - all kinds... I'm used to it. And..." She sighed heavily, "This frightens me! I'm turning into a robot!" She laughed suddenly, a sad but genuine chuckle. "If that's true, I'll have to let one oddball wear t-shirts with my image on them!"

"What?" I asked again, puzzled.

"Well, if I become a robot then... Never mind," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Maestro, forget it. It's personal. But now, Maestro, don't you think we should start training? Otherwise, they're going to badger Halley with those questions; they're already repeating themselves for the third time."

"You're right," I agreed, nodding at Maya before leaping onto a satellite dish, thereby establishing a dominant height. "Hey!" I raised my voice. "Are you Knights or old ladies at a market?! Halley has already explained everything! Mr. Rock's tragic incident will not affect the Castle's obligations! Coverage, payments, social guarantees - everything remains in effect! Now, line up!"

My commanding tone and unwavering confidence did the trick. The crowd quieted down and got down to business. Today's training focused on urban combat, so there was no need to leave the square. As usual, Crixus took charge of those who had some knowledge, while I handled the novices who barely knew which end of the sword to hold.

Half an hour later, I announced a ten-minute break, as was my custom. I planned to spend this time conversing with Maya. Regardless of her brave front, she was close to Mr. Rock, and his death was undoubtedly hard on her. But before I could take a step towards her, Crixus materialized beside me, gesturing for a private conversation.

"Yes?" I asked, not concealing my annoyance as we moved to the other end of the square.

"I arranged a meeting with Mersk!" He announced, puffing his chest out with pride.

"Okay, when?"

"Tomorrow, at midnight sharp."

"Where?"

"He'll specify later. It'll just be him from their side, and you and me from ours."

"Fine. Where do I meet you?"

"To avoid drawing attention, let's meet where we first met, fifteen minutes before midnight."

"The cargo port, third berth?" I clarified, just to be sure.

"Precisely!"

"Agreed."

"We'll manage to sway these Masks over to BKDW's side, you'll see!" Crixus declared before returning to his training duties. His naivety was almost endearing. He hoped to recruit the double agent from the House on the Hill? He was dreaming! I envied his youthful optimism. But his news was good. Finally, the Masks were joining the training, and at least seven more raigs would improve their combat skills. That was definitely a cause for celebration. If it meant participating in a bit of theatre, it was a small price to pay. However, before I had a chance to return to the BKDW building, I was intercepted yet again - this time by Halley.

"Maestro..." He called out in a whisper.

"I'm listening." I responded, bowing my head and matching his quiet tone.

"Under the repeater on the building, there's a small cavity. Look for a box in there." The guy glanced around like a conspirator. "Your order's in there!"

"What order?" Confused, I asked him to clarify.

"A parcel from Whiteshoulder." Nonchalantly, he waved his hand, answered Rex's call, and leaped onto the roof.

"Thank you." I whispered in his direction.

Did I understand correctly? Could the elusive artifactor have fulfilled my order? Despite the extreme complexity of the task, had he succeeded? If true... For the first time since the Creator's call, I felt a glimmer of hope, a faint chance to prevent the impending End of the World.

Emboldened by this newfound optimism, I led an excellent training session, my upbeat mood infectious among the raigs. As soon as I finished the last exercise, Maya stepped forward and requested that all BKDW members stay behind. Once the training ended and all non-BKDW raigs had left the rooftop, she hopped onto the parapet and called for attention.

"I have a personal request to make." Her opening remark took even me by surprise, let alone the others. "This request isn't related to the BKDW, the Breakthroughs, training, or Mr. Rock's death..." She hesitated for a moment but then continued. "In the private section of the forum, accessible only to those present, I posted a picture and a description of a certain Ketsu Sugarawa. He's a Japanese shapeshifter who studies at my university. He's been missing for a few days now. Please, if anyone spots him, let me know. You don't need to approach him, just call me or send a message. I'm worried."

Her heartfelt plea was unexpected, and I had a feeling everyone present would be more than willing to help. As the raigs exchanged glances and whispers, Maya hopped down from the parapet.

"Do you really need to go this far?" I quietly asked her.

"As I said earlier, I'm tired of deaths, particularly those that are accidental or preventable."

I had more questions for her, but I didn't get the chance to ask them. Dobrynya flew to where Maya was standing moments ago and raised his hand. The raigs' whispers instantly ceased.

"I have an announcement as well," my Padawan stated loudly and confidently.

"Go ahead," Crixus granted him permission.

"Maestro..." He called me over and walked to the edge of the roof overlooking the capital's main square.

"Yes?" Confused, I approached him.

"The support I requested," Dobrynya whispered, "I need it now."

Following his gaze, I looked down at the square. Despite it being nearly two in the morning, more than five dozen reporters had gathered in front of the BKDW headquarters, setting up their photographic and video equipment.

"But, maybe..." I began, wanting to suggest, "maybe you shouldn't do this?" However, for the first time, my Padawan interrupted me.

"Now!"

With that, he exited the Break.

I had no choice but to follow suit, manifesting in reality to the right of my student. Crixus quickly deduced the direction things were heading and, seizing the opportunity, positioned himself by the left shoulder of my Padawan. The reporters noticed us immediately. The glare from below was so intense that I would have been half-blinded, if not for Metatron's filters. The cameras clicked in their characteristic manner.

"I am Break Knight Dobrynya," the lad loudly announced, addressing the small crowd below. "For over a month, I have been warding off the capital's Breakthroughs. In the last one, my sworn brother fell! I am Break Knight Dobrynya, and..." My Padawan removed his motorcycle helmet, revealing his face. "A common citizen Sergiy Voloda, stand here today, and I promise! As long as I draw breath, not a single creature, not a single monster of the Break shall desecrate the city where Break Knight Baenre rests!!!"

I felt a slight jolt at the imprecision of his words, but it was not my place to intervene, so I held my tongue. At that moment, Maya materialized next to us. Having delivered his speech, my Padawan faltered for a few seconds as if disoriented. I placed my hand on his shoulder; on the other side, Crixus mirrored my gesture. This bolstered my student's confidence, and he began to speak again, this time with more authority and conviction.

"I, Dobrynya, am joining the ranks of the Break Knights, the Defenders of Wilflaes. I swear to always guard the city from Breakthroughs and protect its people from the creatures of the Break! I vow to watch over my comrades, and not abandon them in times of hardship! I, the Break Knight, am the shield of this world! I am the sword of Wilflaes!"

In the ensuing silence, the sound of fists striking chests echoed. After enduring another barrage of camera flashes, the four of us seamlessly transitioned back into the Break.

"I needed this," my Padawan nodded gratefully. "Thank you."

No sooner had he spoken than other raigs swarmed around him, offering their congratulations and hearty handshakes. But I harbored doubts.

On one hand, having another open Knight of the Break was undoubtedly beneficial for the organization. However, I wasn't certain I wanted to see Dobrynya in this role. Regardless, it was too late to make any changes; the deed was done.

"How unexpected," Maya remarked, approaching me from behind.

"How do you do it?" I asked, diverting from casual conversation to a question that had been nagging at me for a while.

"What do I do?" The maiden Knight seemed puzzled.

"Sometimes, you appear and disappear in the Break without making a sound."

"Oh, that!" She dismissed with a wave of her hand. "After the zombie Breakthrough, I was offered some sort of 'affinity with Break' as a power and I chose it. Turns out, at the initial level, the ability doesn't offer much apart from this somewhat useless skill. In the future, with progression, it promises an increase in Prana reserves and better 'sensitivity to the Break,' whatever that implies."

I had more questions for her, but Halley, Crixus, and Dobrynya approached and whisked Maya away. Evidently, they needed to sort out the formalities of transitioning my Padawan into a full-fledged member of the BKDW and an Open Knight of the Break.

I spent an additional ten minutes fielding various questions from the remaining raigs. Once I was certain everyone had vacated the roof, I entered the physical world. I settled beside the repeater, reaching into its cavity to locate a small box. Having found it, I returned to the Break and sped towards the sea in Sliding.

After covering nearly two dozen kilometers from the coast, I exited the Break on a solitary rock buffeted by relentless winds. I was confident that the box Halley left for me contained no tracking devices or bugs, but my paranoia insisted on double-checking, hence my journey to this isolated island. I opened my palm to reveal a small box covered in velvet, similar to those used by jewelry stores for packaging rings or earrings. I opened it and stared at its contents for nearly half a minute.

Could this really be an artifact?

This?

Inside the box was a crisp, new postage stamp. Not a rare one, but rather ordinary; you could find heaps of these in any post office. The only thing that set it apart from its tens of thousands of counterparts was a crudely drawn, slightly ajar door on the back, as if etched by a child's hand.

On a hunch, I removed my left glove and pushed the concealed button on Rui's gift. Just as I expected, this "stamp" fit perfectly into the secret compartment of the watch.

I had a feeling that I would never grow accustomed to these "everyday" miracles and "coincidences."

Slipping Metatron's glove back on, I closed my eyes. I now knew with certainty that I was one step closer in my seemingly hopeless search.

Damn Door, I'm going to find you...