After classes, Sai slowly exited the lecture hall.
His hands were still occupied with a notebook and pen, but only one thing was on his mind: the revolver.
He had about an hour left before his part-time job. He decided to use half of that time to visit the Academy library.
The library was enormous—white walls, high ceilings, rows of shelves laden with books, scrolls, and artifacts.
Silence reigned here, broken only by the soft rustle of pages being turned.
Sai walked between the rows, his gaze sweeping over the shelves.
He approached the section housing ancient artifacts and weapons from the time of the Last War.
The area seemed dusty, forgotten, as if time had slowed down here.
He stopped at a shelf labeled: "Artefacts of Conflict — Forbidden and Restricted."
On the bottom shelf—several old tomes with covers worn by time.
He pulled one out, dust billowing up, the smell of old paper filling the air.
Sai sat on a low stool and carefully opened the book.
Inside were descriptions of weapons, their histories, consequences of use, spells, crystals, mechanical schematics.
But among the pages, his eyes stopped on what looked like a schematic of a revolver.
"'Erebus IX'…" he muttered.
The description was incomplete. The page was torn, its edges frayed, as if someone had ripped part of the book out.
The text began with the usual history of an ancient artifact, a weapon from the Last War, created to fight demons and creatures from the Rifts.
"'Created for Shadow control… contains the power of an ancient dragon… intended only for…'"
And then—a break.
Sai carefully examined the drawing.
The revolver in the schematic was exactly like his: the same shape, the engraved lines on the grip, the long, slightly curved barrel.
Inside the drawing was a small symbol—like dragon wings and small horns.
"What the…" Sai exhaled quietly. "It's something alive…"
He carefully flipped through the neighboring pages but found nothing more.
It seemed someone had deliberately torn out the section to keep the details hidden.
Sai clenched the book, looked out the window—he had about twenty minutes left before work.
"Need to… remember everything that's here. And there's nothing more for now."
He carefully placed the book back, trying not to damage the torn page, and left the library.
Outside, a light wind rustled the tree leaves.
Sai took a deep breath and looked at his revolver, resting in its holster.
"So, it's you…" he said. "I'll figure out what you are."
He took one more look at the twilight of the Academy streets, at the quiet silhouettes of students hurrying about their business.
"And even if someone is deliberately hiding something… I'll find out."
Sai headed towards his part-time job.
Curfew was approaching, but thoughts of the torn page and the weapon's mysterious power wouldn't leave him.
———
Sai walked through the streets of the Academy town.
Empty sidewalks, sparse streetlights, a light, cold wind—it all seemed to push him towards concentration.
He kept a hand on the holster where Erebus IX lay, feeling the metal's faint pulse.
"Whatever," he said quietly to himself, "I won't let anyone or anything use you against my will."
Sai had found the part-time job a few weeks after his arrival.
It was a small weaponsmith's workshop on the outskirts of the city, where students came to repair or buy basic artifacts.
Today, the boss was already waiting for him.
"Well, hero," said the middle-aged man with a thick stubble, "still want to try something interesting?"
"Yes, I think so," Sai replied, trying not to show his excitement. "Just need to finish before curfew."
He went inside, where the smell of oil and metal mixed with the warm air from the furnace.
Various devices lay on the table: crystals, hilts, small pistols and revolvers.
Sai's eyes involuntarily drifted towards the row of cold metal.
"Will you like this one?" asked the workshop owner, pointing to an old revolver with engraved lines. "You can pick it up."
Sai lifted it, felt its weight.
"Cool," he said shortly.
"Go on, take it. No one's wanted it for over two years now."
"Ha, right," the owner smiled. "It's special, just be careful with it."
Sai carried the revolver to the workbench and began checking the details: the barrel, the trigger mechanism, the grip.
He whispered quietly to himself, repeating the symbols on the metal.
Every touch seemed to answer with a slight tremor.
"Damn," he muttered. "It's like someone's inside…"
The boss nodded without asking anything.
"Hey, don't space out," he said. "Make sure everything works. We have clients coming, and we need to be ready."
Sai carefully inspected the revolver, performed a test fire on a special target in the corner of the workshop.
The sound was quiet, but after the shot, the air seemed to contract.
A thread of black light flashed along the barrel and vanished, harming no one.
"Okay," Sai thought. "You're clearly not an ordinary weapon."
He put the revolver away, carefully placing it in its holster, and began carrying out the boss's tasks: sorting combat crystals, repairing a lock on an artifact, checking fastenings.
His thoughts kept returning to the library, the torn page, the fact that someone had deliberately left only part of the information.
"Alright," he muttered. "I'll find out everything soon."
Time flew by quickly. Sai looked at the clock—curfew was almost upon him.
He quickly packed his tools, thanked the boss, and stepped outside.
The wind was cold again, but he barely felt it now.
Thoughts of the revolver, the torn page, and the mysterious dragon within the metal—it was all gradually forming a new goal.
"You will appear," he said quietly to Erebus IX. "But only when I am ready."
Sai walked briskly towards the dormitory, feeling the night gradually giving way to dawn.
He didn't yet know that this hour in the workshop was just a faint harbinger of what would happen to him and the revolver in the coming weeks.