I'm gasping for air, longing to remove my helmet or at least lift the face glass, but I realize that wouldn't be the most foresighted decision. However, Zanh Kiem seems to be faring even worse than I am, as if he's been run over by a herd of hippos and then flattened by a steamroller. Nevertheless, the Maker is the first to recover: he summons his strength and, with a groan, assumes a sitting position. Then he shakes his head as if to banish an echoing ring in his ears. As for me, all I want to do is close my eyes, take off my motorcycle helmet, and lie there forever. But that's not an option.
"Good Lord, what was that?" The sensum whispers, clearing his throat.
"A Breakthrough," Maya answers in my stead.
"A strange Breakthrough," Zanh Kiem observes, rubbing his temples.
"A strange Breakthrough," the raig girl affirms, echoing him.
"Give me... two... three... minutes... to catch my breath," I whisper, my fatigue apparent in my tone.
"I'd help," the Maker manages a smile despite his pain, "if I could." He shakes his head again. "I wish someone could help me now." He looks down at his hands in surprise. "That was a powerful impact indeed; my energy is nearly depleted, as if washed away by a storm. By a dark..." Zanh Kiem's shock is so profound that he momentarily loses his usual composed expression, and something akin to fear flashes in his eyes. "By a black storm."
"I also felt as though the sky had fallen on my shoulders. And there was someone's eerie laughter ringing in my ears. I can still hear it." A shiver runs down Maya's spine.
"The sky on the shoulders," the Maker agrees, gritting his teeth as he straightens his back and settles into a lotus position. It's clear that even such simple and familiar movements are a struggle for him. "A very accurate comparison. But I didn't hear any laughter. Only felt such a pressure as if Atlas had truly decided to shift his burden onto me. And in the aura, it felt like the grating sound of sandpaper scraping glass, sharp movements, something like that." He shivers.
I lie there, listening, and gather my strength. There's barely any prana left, not even enough to shift into the Projection. And this, coupled with my general energy depletion, is affecting my physical condition negatively.
I can hardly believe my luck.
And it was also fortunate for this world that the Reaper from Mass Effect didn't enter the Breakthrough and begin its Harvest, or that the Blood Moon from Dead Space didn't start the Convergence process on the entire planet, or Cthulhu didn't emerge from the sea, or... Yes, even Darth Nihulus from a Galaxy Far, Far Away, capable of draining the life from entire worlds for the sake of his thirst... Such "ors" could be enumerated almost endlessly.
These thoughts sent a shudder through me. Maya, detecting my movement, reassuringly squeezed my shoulders. I didn't necessarily need the support right now, but somehow this simple gesture felt nice.
Something was off with me. Not negatively so, but something in me had changed following the Breakthrough. Once my head cleared up, I took a moment to analyze my feelings. That's it! My prana was replenishing faster than before, almost a third more quickly. It felt as if an unknown source was pouring additional energy into me, but I couldn't identify where it was coming from. Perhaps this was what the voice meant by "The world will support you." If that's the case, excellent! However, it also meant that the promises made by the Dark and Light columns during the Breakthrough might not have been mere temptations; had I truly renounced remarkable powers? Better not to dwell on that! Now was not the time for regretting decisions made in the past. What's done was done, and time couldn't be rewound.
Despite the bonus I'd received, I didn't recover in just two or three minutes. It took nearly ten before I'd regained enough strength to sit up.
"Thanks for your support," I nodded gratefully at Maya.
Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink in response. It's a pity that I was wearing a helmet and lying on her lap, unable to feel the warmth of her legs.
"How are you faring, Maestro?" Zanh Kiem, who'd been meditating while I was resting, immediately addressed me as I sat up.
"I'll survive."
"That's obvious." The sensum's laughter sounded like the cawing of an old raven.
"I couldn't help." Gathering her strength, Maya admitted, seemingly oblivious to the leader of the Third Palm's laughter. "I tried to break through, but was repelled. I am guilty. Please forgive me!" She bowed so low that her forehead came into contact with the stones.
Even the Maker appeared taken aback by this scene. How much guilt could one person shoulder?
"Enough!" I tried to roar in response, but it came out more like a groan; I was still too weak. "You couldn't have helped. Sit up straight. Are you a knight or not?" My argument surprisingly worked, and the girl straightened her back. "That's better."
"Maestro, now that you have enough strength to raise your voice..." Zanh Kiem had recovered surprisingly quickly and looked almost the same as when we first met, except for a slightly duller look in his eyes. "Could you please enlighten us about what transpired?"
"Moving a Maker into the Break broke something. I don't know if you noticed your own state, but your Projection was blazing like a star, like a red giant on the verge of explosion. Thankfully, Maya ran out of prana before that could happen." I was incredibly thirsty, but, gathering my strength, I continued my explanation. "Then, after the two of you left the Break, I was about to follow. But then, space twisted. It encapsulated me in some kind of cocoon. I wasn't released into materiality but was instead engulfed by a Breakthrough. A personal, individual Breakthrough," I clarified.
"Judging by how it affected us even here, everyone is lucky you won."
"I didn't win." The "Word" wouldn't allow me to answer any other way.
"What do you mean?"
"I didn't lose, and that was enough. The guest from the Breakthrough left on its own."
"The guest?" Zanh Kiem questioned.
"Left on its own?" Maya exclaimed simultaneously.
"As for the guest... It was a personal Breakthrough tied to me. Thus, what manifested in the Break was from my personal 'closet of skeletons.' And no, I don't think you should pry into that closet. Trust me, you're better off not knowing." The Maker seemed to understand something from my words and didn't inquire further. "It's like Pandora's box."
I uttered and bit my tongue — what if... But no, I was lucky! Izao's memory reminded me: such a myth exists in this world. Damn, I almost revealed too much for no reason. I need to be more careful.
"Taking into account your circumstances," the sensum nodded, presumably referring to my status as a reincarnate and the potential unknown fears of my past that might haunt me, "I understand your reluctance to specify this detail, but could you at least provide a general explanation? It's important."
"A dark adept. A very, very powerful dark adept. From the myths where he conquers the world." To my relief, the "Word" didn't react to such a loose interpretation.
"That's..." The Maker seemed visibly disturbed by what he heard, but my words didn't faze Maya at all. To her, it was just another Breakthrough that had to be stopped. It didn't matter what emerged from it: a dark adept, monsters, robots — she didn't care. "And he just left? What does 'left' mean in the context of Breakthroughs?"
"Now onto the important part." I straightened my legs and stretched, gathering my thoughts. "Sometimes, knowledge comes to us Break Knights. It just appears, and we learn something we didn't know before. This, however, only applies to the Break itself and Breakthroughs." Maya confirmed my words with a brief nod.
"We are aware," the head of the Third Palm was completely focused now.
"I'm unsure how much my personal perception might distort what I learned, but it's too important to keep to myself. The world is divided into layers of Existence. We're in the material layer."
"That aligns with what we sensums perceive." Zanh Kiem nodded.
"The Break is not an independent Layer. It's more like a membrane separating the Layers of Existence. This membrane is 'leaky' or something... One of its facets. And yes, I understand that 'facet of a membrane' sounds absurd, but that's how I perceive it. In general, one of the faces of the membrane leaks. The facet that separates the material world from the Layer of Fantasy."
"Regarding the Fantasy Layer, we had suspicions of something like that," the Maker filled in the pause while I gathered my thoughts. "But the fact that the Break is essentially a Border..."
"Therefore," I continued, "when we Knights stop a Breakthrough, we're only banishing what has come from its original Layer of Existence. We don't kill or destroy, but expel. Fantasy is not so easily killed, if at all possible. This means the belief that there are no two identical Breakthroughs is a fallacy. There are simply too many Fantasies, and they haven't repeated so far. Also, a creature of Fantasy, if endowed with intelligence, can return to its Layer voluntarily, against the 'will' of the Breakthrough! If it has enough might, it can pull off such a feat. And no, I didn't find out why the Break became 'leaky.'"
"I don't think anyone expected you to," Zanh Kiem shrugged.
"So we're Knights of the Frontier?" Maya's voice held a hint of amusement, faint as a distant echo.
"Yes, you could say that," I nodded in response. "And again, I'll stress this: that Breakthrough was extraordinary. The Break is still raging. You couldn't have helped me. No one could."
"Understood." Her words were just words. I could see in her eyes that she continued to blame herself.
I deliberately turned to face the head of the Third Palm and said, "I was on the very edge during this Breakthrough. I really hope it wasn't for nothing and that you managed to glean something."
"There was little time for investigation," the sensum evaded a direct response.
"Are we unworthy or don't deserve an answer?" I asked directly, lacking the energy and inclination for word games.
"You're worthy. It's just difficult for us to discuss this topic. We usually don't." I waited, simply waited; Maya also demonstrated remarkable patience, given her straightforward nature, and remained silent. "While in the Break, I saw something. I've never personally seen anything like it, but my training served me well. There were signs of alchemy, a Dark Art. This explains my 'blindness.'"
"Isn't alchemy just children's fairy tales and horror stories?" Maya voiced, her eyes brimming with doubt.
"If only..." The Maker shook his head. "If only... These aren't just stories. In the monasteries, alchemy is also referred to as the 'lost dark art.' The key word, as you've already guessed, is 'lost.' It seems we were mistaken."
"Just say it already!" I lost my patience.
"We've long suspected that dark adepts are in league with Eshin," Zanh Kiem began in a pedagogical tone. "Many dark ones turn to crime for protection or to satisfy their twisted desires. The truth is that they're quite weak and inept at the start of their journey. Our colleagues and we can easily identify and apprehend them. Furthermore, their numbers have dwindled over recent years, since the dark gift is akin to a genetic mutation of sensums passed down through generations. Due to consistent purges, the branches of the dark gift have nearly disappeared. Alchemy is... It's not a simple matter. Firstly, it's accessible only to the Dark — neither the Light nor the Gray can grasp it. Secondly, alchemy represents the peak of power and skill for a Dark adept. Thirdly, and most importantly, one must learn it to acquire knowledge. And this changes everything." He fell silent.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
The sensum fell silent, and it wasn't difficult for me to pick up where he left off.
"So, not just any Dark One is working for Eshin, but also a potent Adept, trained by someone. Taking into account the hereditary nature of the dark gift, the transfer of knowledge, and the fact that the monasteries consider alchemy 'lost,' we get..."
"Yeah... We screwed up." The head of the Third Palm affirmed my words. "Somewhere, an entire unchecked branch of the Dark Gift has persisted. The branch is ancient, powerful, and unknown to us."
"How powerful and ancient?" I sought clarification.
"The last time a Dark Gifted of equal strength to a Maker was apprehended was at the start of the previous century. And even then, it wasn't we who captured them, but the Inquisition, and they used specific, so to speak, methods. Reliable signs of alchemy don't appear later than the end of the eighteenth century. So, I really don't know the answer."
"But do you at least know something?" Maya, unable to hold back, let her character show.
"At least something? Yes, I do!" The head of the Third Palm responded with a peaceful smile. "The primary point now is that we know what we're up against, and that Eshin is much more formidable than we previously assumed. And we've managed to slightly lift the veil on how this clan has managed to evade detection for centuries."
"Will you receive help?" The young Knight continued her questioning.
"Absolutely not!" Zanh Kiem seemed genuinely surprised by the notion. "It doesn't work like that. Don't forget, I am a Maker, and I CHOSE this mission. That means, my team CAN handle the task. Whether we succeed or not is up to us." He took a deep breath and concluded. "Furthermore, I'm certain that the West will send their own."
"The Inquisition?" Maya exhaled, her face paling slightly.
"Don't worry. The Inquisition is no threat to ordinary folks, even less so to Break Knights," the sensum reassured her. "The horror stories and tales about them are propagated to maintain their image, so to speak. But I'm not entirely sure about their motives as I find the topic uninteresting." He shrugged, pausing.
I attempted to stand, succeeding only with great effort. I swayed slightly, my knees trembling. I hadn't felt this spent and hollow in a long time, and my head swirled with the barrage of information that had been dumped on me.
"Maestro, can you walk?" Zanh Kiem immediately inquired.
"I'm not sure," I answered truthfully.
"I can assist," the sensum offered, extending his hand.
"Is that necessary?" Maya interjected. "The Maestro just halted a Breakthrough single-handedly. Let him rest!"
"Well..." The head of the Third Palm grinned, not withdrawing his hand. "Don't worry so much - Maestro is fine. It's just energy depletion, nothing more. But the thread, which I still felt, is thinning with every breath. And those waiting outside the gate were also affected by the Breakthrough. It wasn't as severe as for us here, nearly at the epicenter, but they received their share. They're concerned but can't enter since I forbade it. So what's more important, letting Maestro rest or taking care of business?"
"I'm fine!" I assured the sensum, addressing the girl. "And if you lend me your shoulder, it will be even better."
In reality, I didn't require such assistance, but upon feeling needed, Maya immediately ceased her objections. Besides, I felt much more comfortable leaning on a beautiful young woman than on Zanh Kiem's sinewy arm.
Before leaving the area, I looked back one last time. The stone underfoot, previously flat and bearing an unusual pattern, now appeared cracked and covered with a thick layer of debris and fragments. Among the rubble and dust, two distinct girlish footprints stood out. Footprints in stone! As our senior operator once said, quoting a century-old poem, "If nails were made of these people - there would be no stronger nails in the world!"
Without Maya's support, I would not have managed the journey back. Merely three hundred steps, although on uneven ground, were enough to make my legs give out, despite feeling progressively better each minute. Gradually, bit by bit... But the intense heat immediately squeezed these precious drops of energy from me until I was drained. I yearned to slip into the Break, if only for a second, to shed the weighty sensation, but the Border was still in turmoil, and penetrating it required far more prana than I currently possessed.
Behind the modest gates, as expected, a waiting crowd greeted us. While it was hard to discern anything from the expressions of Rui, Nein, and the "twins," the duke's envoys were evidently anxious. True, they attempted to maintain their outward composure, but they didn't quite manage to pull it off.
"Everything is okay!" Zanh Kiem lifted his hand to quell the initial surge of concern from those waiting. "We're fine." In truth, we weren't in the best shape, but I understood why he claimed otherwise.
"What happened?!" The duke's envoy, a man named Rock, stepped forward. "What was that wave of power? I barely managed to contain my Beast."
"A Breakthrough," Maya answered. "A localized one. There's no threat - it's been neutralized." She spoke succinctly, straight to the point, and only when necessary - as if she were delivering a report.
In fact, she might well be doing so, considering my suspicions that this Rock is the overseer of BKDW from House on the Hill.
Casting a sidelong glance at the "twins," Rock made a pointed step in our direction.
"Maya, Maestro, do you need help?" He seemed genuinely sincere and eager to assist - if my instincts weren't misleading me.
"No, we can manage," I answered for both of us.
Firstly, I didn't want him near Maya right now, he clearly had many questions, and it would be preferable for him to ask them later. Secondly, I was simply enjoying the excuse to hold the girl close, and I wished to extend this moment for as long as possible. I would even remove my gloves, but that would be overstepping.
Perhaps it's hormones, or maybe it's not. Regardless, it doesn't matter. I'm genuinely content, full stop. Moreover, why should I deprive myself of small pleasures? Didn't I single-handedly halt the Breakthrough? Indeed, I did. Doesn't the hero deserve a reward? Did it just seem to me, or did "Purity" radiate approving warmth?
"Mr. Zanh Kiem," the second envoy from the Castle steps forward, "have you completed the survey?"
"Yes. Hyungang Tu Chong is dead. Murdered," replies Zanh Kiem. It seems that the man who called himself Tunk is not surprised by these words; it appears he had considered such an outcome for quite some time. "Of course, this is the work of Eshin. You can confidently link the terrorist attack against BKDW and this murder into one operation. Send for the forensics team, the abbot of the Abode didn't die without a fight. The tracks have been covered, but it may still be possible to find something. We will prepare a written report for you. We trust that you won't withhold any data obtained by the forensic experts from us."
"Undoubtedly," Tunk nods at the words of the Third Palm's leader. "This is a matter of mutual concern. There will be no obstacles or secrets on our end. You can take my words as those of the duke himself."
"Understood!" The Maker responds, although I note that he doesn't reciprocate the promise to withhold nothing. Intriguing... "Nein, assist the forensic team. Lao, Bao, scour everything within a kilometer radius of the estate. Yes, this is just your area of expertise - look for any echoes. Rui, you are to handle the coordination and generally take command in my absence." After giving these orders, Zanh Kiem turns back to the duke's envoys. "I need a car and a driver, preferably right now."
"We can provide our services and vehicle," Tunk responds immediately, indicating one of the black SUVs. "Besides, it wouldn't hurt for us to have a conversation."
"I have no objections," the head of the Third Palm concurs.
"We're with you!" I add.
Maya seems taken aback by my statement, but a little nudge from me and she nods in agreement.
"That's unnecessary," Zanh Kiem interrupts, having already taken the first steps towards the car. "However, why not. Mr. Tunk, do you object?"
The two Castle envoys glance at each other. It's clear that Rock is opposed, but he yields in this silent battle of wills.
"Lady Maya, Knight Maestro," Tunk's inviting hand gesture is quite expressive.
Leaning on the girl with nearly all my weight, I feign immense exhaustion. This distracts her from any questions, which now is definitely not the best time for.
My decision to accompany the Maker is quite straightforward. I don't want to engage in conversation with Mr. Rock just yet because I need to prepare for that dialogue. And I have no doubt that such an interaction will occur, given it's already quite evident that he is the duke's representative overseeing the raigs. And since I've officially joined the BKDW, we definitely can't avoid a closer acquaintance. Not that I'm against getting to know him better, but I'd prefer to postpone it. Furthermore, soon this place will swarm with people: forensics, police, investigators... I'm already drenched in sweat. How does Maya manage to tolerate my odor? I don't know; she must have iron self-control.
Naturally, I'm curious to observe the Maker's actions, and listening to the dialogue between Zanh Kiem and Mr. Tunk from up close could certainly prove beneficial. It's also clear to me that our presence won't inhibit the sensum. Simultaneously, I'll get a sense of how forthcoming the duke's messenger will be with the likes of the Break Knights. This could hint at a lot of things.
I brought Maya along because I didn't want to leave her at the mercy of Rock, who would likely tire the girl with his incessant questions. Of course, I understand his position - it's his job, but that can wait.
As we slowly approach, Zanh Kiem and Mr. Tunk wait patiently. The SUV's doors are open, but these two don't rush to get in. It's just a short walk - perhaps I'm overdoing my pretense of fatigue? I was about to straighten up when an unexpected noise caught my attention.
Judging by everyone's reactions, they've also heard the distinct sound of tires on sand and the unmistakable hum of a powerful electric engine. Could the forensics team have arrived so quickly? But no, they're certainly not the ones. A bright red sports car, the local equivalent of a Ferrari, speeds over the hill. The screech of its brakes is so piercing that it causes my teeth to ache. The sports car miraculously comes to a halt just a few millimeters from the bumper of the police vehicle.
I can't make out the driver. All I see is a passenger: a gray-haired man in his fifties, securely fastened in his seat with his eyes closed, and head slumped. He's clearly unconscious.
The driver's door, reminiscent of a "butterfly wing," swings open, and a dark figure leaps out of the car with an impressive roll. The glint of two large-caliber revolvers in the sunlight clashes starkly with the black cassock and hefty bronze cross on the stranger's chest.
"Don't move!" An otherworldly quality to the voice sends chills down my spine. The revolver muzzles shift, and both now target Zanh Kiem. "Especially you, boy..."
From the corner of my eye, I notice Tunk blanching and Rock smoothly retreating behind his SUV. The police reach for their holsters but promptly collapse unconscious. Nein and Rui stand agape, but the "twins"... Hold on, where did they get machine guns from? Where have they been hiding them all along?
"Who summoned the Darkness?" The cassock-clad stranger ignores the weapons in Lao and Bao's hands, as well as everyone else for that matter. His attention is solely fixed on the Maker.
Oh, Break! Could you please release me from this pandemonium?!