After transitioning into the Break, I didn't immediately chase after the shadow; instead, I paused. Not out of fear, but because even this grayscale space, considerably duller than the material world, was now perceived by me somewhat differently than usual. Its monochromatic half-tones had taken on a greater depth. The ever-present breeze of the Break, constantly wafting against my face, was felt not as a single gust, but as a multitude of distinct currents, each with its own character. These unfamiliar and unexpected sensations required a few seconds of acclimation.
However, I couldn't afford to remain stationary for long, as there was a substantial risk of losing the raig. Brushing off the allure of novelty, I launched forward, trying to stay grounded. Yet even with such a limitation, I reached the nearest shore in roughly forty seconds. From there, I circled the island along the coast and, throwing caution to the wind, sprinted at full speed towards the recently spotted shadow.
Even a mere pedestrian can traverse University Island in an hour from one end to the other, and for a raig, such distances are utterly inconsequential. Within the first minute, I noticed something out of the ordinary disrupting the usual, familiar routine: a crowd of people on an ordinarily deserted section of the rocky coast. As I closed in, I saw that the group didn't consist of students or faculty. Instead, a dozen or so university security officers were combing the rocky shore of a small cove nestled between low-lying rocks.
To my mild disappointment, the shadow I'd seen turned out to be none other than Maya Grimm. The world's most renowned Break Knight had already rematerialized and was engaged in a lively conversation with a tall, lean, fit middle-aged man I didn't recognize. As soon as I approached, Maya abruptly gestured with her hand, cutting off the conversation, and immediately shifted into the Break.
"Ra-a-a-a-a-ig!!!" I heard a distant, muffled roar.
She must have noticed my approach. This assumption was almost immediately confirmed as she started heading towards me. A month ago, I would have been thrilled by this encounter, but after joining the same special study group and undergoing regular raig training, our paths crossed three or four times a day. We even saw each other earlier today at the first lecture. Of course, Maya didn't realize that we had already met, as she had been interacting with Izao, not Maestro.
As a Break Knight, I had been distancing myself lately, leading the raigs to avoid bothering me. Anyone who attempted to reach out was quickly brushed off by the sisters, Thora and Kael, who made it clear that without serious reasons, it was best not to approach me. Maya usually treated me similarly. So, when she approached and stopped five meters away, raising her hand in a greeting, it was a bit surprising.
"Maestro?" the girl said, sounding slightly surprised.
Even in the Break, she looked somewhat worn out. Since I had withdrawn from everything, including management, immersing myself in self-reproach, the workload on Maya had naturally increased. Sometimes, I felt that her willpower could make steel jealous.
"Greetings," I replied, noticing that my voice sounded more lively than it had that morning. "Something happened?" I asked, gesturing towards the rocky bay.
"A student died," she informed, her voice devoid of any drama or tears, just a hint of regret.
"Died?" I echoed, realizing the rarity of such an incident.
"There's a beautiful but dangerous beach on this coast," Maya explained as she approached and stopped next to me. "It's even known as 'Shattered Skulls Beach.'"
"Shattered?" I questioned, moving towards the shore.
"Yes," she confirmed, nodding. "It's visually appealing, but extremely dangerous because of the currents. Apparently, there used to be a death every year until the beach was closed for swimming a few years ago. Seems like someone violated the ban."
"So, it's an accident?" I sought to confirm as we reached the blue ribbon that the security service had used to seal off the beach.
"It seems so. Let me clarify," she said, exiting the Break to speak with the tall security guard she had been conversing with before she noticed me.
Judging by how the man flinched at the sudden appearance of a raig in reality, it was clear he wasn't used to interacting with Break Knights. Positioning myself to get a good view of the beach while also hearing their conversation, I began to scrutinize the area. I instantly recognized this place as one of the "blind spots" I had identified in the past. Not exactly, of course - it wasn't on the shore but behind a rocky ledge, merely fifteen meters from our current location. The security guard's explanations initially echoed what Maya had told me, but soon new information emerged.
"The external examination presents a typical scene, mirroring previous cases we're familiar with," one guard started.
"Mirroring?" Maya asked for clarification.
"Yes, the nature of the injuries, the overall scene - everything matches. This isn't an official conclusion yet, of course, but we're nearly certain."
"Have you identified the body yet?"
"Identification is challenging. The head is severely damaged, and the body has been in the water for at least ten or perhaps fifteen days. We'll know more after the autopsy. There were no identification documents or badges found on the body. We suspect the deceased might be a freshman named Marek Sovin, who went missing two weeks ago. But so far, this is unconfirmed," the guard explained, raising his gaze to meet Maya's. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. It's tragic, but such things happen. And now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to return to my duties."
While he spoke, I moved closer to the corpse. To put it mildly, the sight was unpleasant and even sickening. I was grateful for being in the Break where I couldn't smell, or I would've gagged. I agreed with the guard; identifying the deceased was going to be difficult. The body was bloated; crabs and other scavengers had already begun to feast on the skin in various areas. The head was an unrecognizable mess. It was clear the poor soul had been battered against the rocks multiple times, maybe even hundreds. The corpse was clothed only in swim trunks, offering no leads. But something about the deceased seemed familiar. At first, I thought I was mistaken, but after a closer inspection, I recognized some characteristic features. Then I remembered where I had seen the name Marek Sovin before. A cold shiver ran down my spine.
"You heard," Maya said, shifting to the Break and approaching me. "Most likely an accident. The body hasn't been identified yet." Then she noticed my clenched fists. "Did something happen?"
"Call Rock and Zanh Kiem," I managed to say.
"What?" She seemed confused.
"This guy... his name was really Marek Sovin."
"What?" Maya repeated, her confusion deepening.
"You knew him as Ungor." I mustered the strength to utter those words. It was on his badge that I had seen name Marek.
"What?" At first, she responded calmly. Then realization dawned on her. "What?!" Her calmness shattered. "But why?!" She didn't just scream; she bellowed, lifting her face to the sky. "How so?! Why?! Why us..."
I didn't let her finish. I pulled her close and held her in a tight embrace. She didn't resist.
The Break... it dulls the senses.
In the Break, tears don't fall...
But, when the intensity of emotions surpasses a certain threshold, anything becomes possible.
Maya took me by surprise once again. In less than a minute, she pulled away from our embrace, nodded in gratitude, then sat down and placed her ghostly hand over the palm of the deceased. She then raised her eyes to meet mine - they were dry, blazing with fury, not a trace of tears in sight.
"Just not like that... I don't want to... While repelling a Breakthrough - yes. While protecting civilians - yes. But in such a way? No! To slip accidentally and... The worst part is... You know, Maestro, it really could have just happened like that. We don't shift to the Break just because we slip. He probably didn't even think the threat was real until his skull cracked and it was too late. Way too late. I'm scared, Maestro... It's terrifying to think of dying like that... Pointlessly... Without any meaning... Accidentally..."
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
As I looked at her, I realized that Maya was being utterly sincere, which left me slightly on edge. I couldn't help but worry that, with this mindset, she might start seeking death on the battlefield, much like the Vikings of old who yearned to die with a sword in hand. It seemed out of character for her, yet I resolved to keep a closer eye on her during the next Breakthrough - just to err on the side of caution.
As I pondered on this, Maya stood up and took another sweeping look at the rocky beach. She was likely trying to piece together the events that had transpired. From the look on her face, I surmised that she had a rather vivid imagination.
"I'm not sure if I can call the curators now," she finally said. "I'm afraid I might snap and behave inappropriately. Could you make the call?"
"I'm sorry," I shook my head. "But I'm in civilian clothes, without a disguise, and would prefer not to materialize in the physical world. I'll need some time to get back to the base and change."
"I understand," the female knight nodded. "Alright, I'll try to do it." After saying her piece, she distanced herself from the body and exited the Break.
Was I correct in instructing her to summon Rock and Zanh Kiem? Ungor wasn't a member of BKDW and hadn't disclosed his civilian identity to anyone. It's likely that the higher-ups didn't know Marek Sovin and Ungor were one and the same. Would it have been better to leave it that way? However, as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I was reminded of Eshin and the capabilities of the destroyed clan. Perhaps Ungor truly died in a tragic accident, but it would be safer to have professionals, including a Maker, examine the scene and come to a final conclusion.
Maya pulled out her phone and fiddled with it in her palms for almost a minute, using deep breathing to calm herself. Then she steeled herself and pressed the auto-dial. As soon as she did, I pulled away and immediately switched to Sliding, reaching max speed. Regardless of how the situation develops, it would be best to speak with the curators in person, and for that, I needed to change.
Despite the rush, I didn't throw caution to the wind and took a couple of minutes to ensure I wasn't being tailed. Then I scaled the sheer cliff and inspected the marks I'd left - they were undisturbed. I understood that without knowledge of the cave's location, it was nearly impossible to stumble upon it by chance. However, every time before I exit the Break, I conduct a similar check.
The act of changing into the armor was so familiar that I could have done it blindfolded. Therefore, it didn't take long this time either. As soon as I lowered the visor with a barely audible click, a wave of calm washed over me. This sensation was a clear sign that I was starting to return to normalcy. Over the past two weeks, donning the armor had left me feeling nothing, which I now realized was probably not a good sign. It was a clear indication that my connection to Metatron had been disrupted. Now, with the shell of my estrangement shattered, this connection has been restored.
I hadn't forgotten about Baenre or my command that led to his death. But now, this thought didn't occupy my entire consciousness. The guilt was still there, but it no longer clouded my vision. Nonetheless, I was well aware that my psychological state was far from normal. However, as the saying goes, "the ice has been broken"[1]. I spent about half a minute establishing a solid connection with the armor before I left my secret hideout.
Returning to Shattered Skulls Beach didn't take long. All in all, my round trip only consumed about ten minutes. Naturally, in such a short time, neither Mr. Rock nor Zanh Kiem had arrived. However, the situation in the bay had drastically changed. The university security, which had been previously combing the shore, had now left the cordoned-off area, shooing away curious students but doing little else. Their boss, who had spoken to Maya earlier, was visibly anxious, constantly checking his watch.
The individual in question likely didn't hold a high-ranking position. I should have realized this sooner but I'd overlooked the details: he was neither a shapeshifter nor a sensum. Evidently, no one from upper management wanted to get involved in an incident that ended in tragedy, presumably considering it beneath their dignity. After all, Marek Sorin was not a nobleman, and no one knew he was a Break Knight. Such facets were where this world drastically differed from mine, differences I must always remember.
This time, Maya, in her physical form, failed to notice my approach. To get her attention, I had to make a small leap in front of her in the Break. I had no intention of stepping into the real world until the curators arrived.
"I've made the call," the girl immediately reported as soon as she dematerialized. "They'll be here soon. Both of them."
"How did you manage to frighten the poor guard so much?" I asked, gesturing towards the jittery man.
"Me?" Maya seemed surprised. "I didn't do anything. Mr. Rock just asked me to hand over the phone to whoever was in charge on the spot after I told him everything." She shrugged and added, "So, I did."
No wonder the poor man was so shaken after speaking with one of the voices of the Heir. The curators of the House on the Hill sure knew how to be intimidating when they wanted to be.
One more time, I surveyed the beach and its surroundings. And again, I noticed the differences between the worlds, particularly in human behavior, or more specifically, how ordinary students responded to the security tape. In my old world, a crowd would have gathered by now, filming the incident on their phones and completely ignoring police warnings. But here, everyone was much more law-abiding; a single word or gesture from a security officer and any curious student would immediately back off. As a result, there were no crowds, no noise, and no filming.
I estimated that Mr. Rock would arrive at least half an hour after Maya's call, but I hadn't considered one possibility. Barely fifteen minutes later, a distinctive roar echoed, followed by a small, unmarked, six-seat helicopter hovering over the beach. Four fully equipped shapeshifter soldiers from an elite group first landed on the rocky shore, and only then did the BKDW curator jump onto the beach. As always, Mr. Rock was impeccably dressed in business attire. After receiving a report from the local security officer, who was as pale as a ghost, the curator immediately dispatched him to monitor the perimeter. The guard seemed noticeably relieved by his new assignment.
I was growing more certain that the Heir's curators were quite esteemed among the local populace. Nonetheless, it was irrelevant at the moment. Maya had just exited the Break and, after greeting the curator, relayed everything she knew. Naturally, it didn't take long. With a heavy sigh, I did something I certainly didn't want to, but needed to: I returned to reality.
"Mister Rock," I greeted, raising my right hand in salutation.
The poor commandos. I could clearly see their sergeant twitch as an armored stranger suddenly materialized behind his men. The way he moved his shoulders conveyed his apprehension about what could happen to his unit if I were an enemy. However, if a raig truly desired their deaths, they wouldn't need to materialize in reality at all.
"Master," the curator responded with a bow.
For some reason, after my theatrical duel with the Maker, he'd taken to calling me that. I was indifferent to the title, so I didn't correct him.
Without going into detail about how I discovered that Marek Sovin and Ungor were the same person, I essentially repeated to him what Maya had already conveyed. As I spoke, the curator began examining the body. About five minutes later, Rock stood up, brushed off his pants, and said:
"Yes, it appears to be an accident. Naturally, it's too early to draw any definitive conclusions, but I've called in the best specialists, and by evening, we should have a clearer picture." He paused, then added, "As clear as it can be, anyway." He rubbed his neck then, adding, "A significant loss."
"Yes," Maya responded immediately.
Ungor was a reserved, somewhat secretive individual; none of the raigs knew much about him. He had no close acquaintances, let alone friends. Probably, of all the Knights, I interacted with him the most. Nonetheless, the death of any of us hits hard.
"I recall your report," the curator said, nodding at the girl. "It stated explicitly that during the last Breakthrough, you barely had sufficient..." He hesitated before continuing, "...personnel to fend it off."
"Yes, sir," Maya responded crisply, in the manner of a soldier.
"The mere presence of Ungor alone on the battlefield would have likely..." I started, deliberately glancing at the body, "...prevented casualties among the Break Knights. After all, he was one of the few who had reached the third level. So yes, it's a significant loss."
In reality, I wanted to convey my thoughts in a different way and not in such a detached tone, but I knew from experience that this dry style would make the most sense to the curator. However, I was somewhat indifferent as to how he would interpret my words. I was far more interested in hearing Zanh Kiem's input. But he hadn't arrived yet, and most likely, as he didn't have a helicopter in the Abode, it would take him a little longer to get here than it took the curator.
By this point, Maya had fully recovered, having reigned in her inner turmoil. It seemed sensible to invite her to the Break now and have a talk. Over the past two weeks, I had been unusually reticent, seldom involving myself in the affairs of the raigs. There must've been a wealth of news and updates I should've been apprised of. Naturally, chatting with the twins would be far more informative - they were more knowledgeable about everyone and everything than anyone else. But for a preliminary grasp of the situation, whatever Maya could share would suffice. However, before I could get a word in, as soon as I turned to the Knight girl, Mr. Rock addressed me.
"Master, may I have a word with you?"
Maya raised her eyebrows in surprise; apparently, she was in the dark about what the curator wanted to discuss with me. Nodding, I followed Rock. He led me to the very edge of the shore, close enough for the waves to almost reach his impeccably polished boots. From here, our conversation would be out of earshot from everyone else.
"Maestro, I have been commissioned to extend a confidential invitation to you," he announced, then fell silent as if anyone should be able to deduce the nature of this invitation. Hold on a second! Of course, it's obvious!
"When?" I asked for clarification.
"Tomorrow, precisely two hours after sunset."
"Where?"
"The library of the small palace."
"Alright, I'll be there."
From the way the curator's jaw relaxed, and his shoulders sagged slightly, it was apparent that he had been quite on edge all this time, presumably worried that the invitation might be declined.
"And now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to my people," he formally bowed and took his leave, leaving me alone by the lapping waves.
This was the last thing I had planned - a meeting with the Heir. However... it would be rather ill-advised to turn down such invitations.
However, this meeting might be quite intriguing for me.
[1] TLN: The actual phrase means "things have been set in motion," while the literal meaning (when the ice breaks and starts moving) refers to the time in spring when the ice covering rivers breaks up, and the rivers start flowing visibly again, with pieces of ice drifting on top. It's a quote from "The Twelve Chairs," a great book, by the way (which I never read but saw a series based on it).