The corridor leading out of the Hall of Fallen Letters shouldn't have been any different from when they first entered. And yet, after only a few steps, Marikka noticed that every vibration had changed: tighter, more orderly, more… controlled. As if the Athenaeum were gripping its own walls a little harder.
Cedric sensed it in his own way—panic."Excuse me, but wasn't the corridor this wide before? Why is it this wide now?" He gestured two wildly inconsistent distances with his hands.
"It's narrower," Aurelian said, not surprised. "The Athenaeum is reacting to the arrival of the Inquisitor."
"Oh! Fantastic!" Cedric burst out. "As if the paper-snake creature wasn't enough, now we've got someone who erases people like spelling mistakes!"
Marikka didn't smile, though a flicker of irony crossed her mind.The book trembled in her hand—not like earlier, when it responded to her intention, but like an animal sensing a predator.
The Inquisitor was close.Very close.
His vibration was unmistakable: measured, perfect, constant.Every step identical to the previous one, like a programmed march.
"We have to move," Marikka murmured.
"I know," Aurelian replied. "But without running. A White Page Inquisitor interprets sudden movement as an attempt to flee."
Cedric paled. "But… but that is what we're doing!"
"Better pretend it isn't."
Marikka picked up her pace.Aurelian stayed glued to her side.Cedric followed like a reluctant cat being dragged toward a bathtub.
The walls slowly tightened around them, like an ancient archive sealing itself shut to contain an intruder. Each step made the floor creak—not from instability, but from awareness.The place was listening.
The Inquisitor's vibration, meanwhile, approached like a cold gust of wind.
One step.Another.Always the same.Effortless.
"How long until he gets here?" Cedric whispered, voice trembling like a candle flame.
Marikka placed her hand on the wall. A vibration pulled at her, like a taut rope."Not long. Too little. We don't even have a minute."
Aurelian stiffened. "We need to find an unstable point. If the Athenaeum opens a passage—"
"—we throw ourselves in and pray we don't get crushed by murderous bookshelves?" Cedric finished. "Yes, yes, brilliant plan, can't wait."
They hurried on until Marikka felt a different wave of vibration.Not tense like the others.Not orderly.But fractured.
An unstable point.
"Here," she said.
Aurelian stopped and pressed his palm to the wall. "Yes. Thin fabric."
Cedric stared. "Fabric? I thought this was stone!"
"Not everything that looks like stone is stone."
"That is NOT reassuring!"
Aurelian began tracing a runic sigil in the air—one of the most complex Marikka had ever seen. The rune glowed, as if written directly onto the world's surface.
Marikka closed her eyes.The book trembled with a short, precise pulse.She didn't ask.
She synchronized.
The walls reacted.
First a shiver.Then a breath.Then they parted like curtains revealing a stage no one should ever see.
Beyond the wall lay a spiral staircase descending into the depths.But it wasn't a normal staircase.
The steps slid slowly beneath the light, as if gliding on hidden rails. The glow around them was gold and blue, bending like memory rather than energy.
"A Living Spiral…" Aurelian whispered, awestruck. "I haven't seen one in years."
Cedric peered downward and clutched Aurelian's arm. "Never seen one—already hate it."
Marikka felt the Inquisitor's vibration closing in.Now it was just around the corner.
One step.Another.Calm.Sharp.Inevitable.
No choice left.
"Go down," Aurelian said. "Now."
Cedric whined. "I knew you'd say that."But he went first—fear was stronger than argument.
Marikka followed.The step beneath her vibrated like a slow heartbeat.
Aurelian entered last, and the wall closed behind him.
A fraction of a second before the opening sealed, Marikka sensed the Inquisitor stepping into the corridor.She didn't see his face.Only a cold, blinding white glow—like a freshly erased page.
The Living Spiral began to move.The world tilted.
Cedric screamed with full sincerity."WHY IS IT MOVING?! Aurelian, WHY IS THE STAIRS MOVING?!"
"It's alive, Cedric."
"THAT'S NOT AN ANSWER!"
The Spiral descended like an ancient, dangerous carousel.The walls shifted, curved, reshaped themselves.Lines of text appeared and vanished, as if the hallways were selecting what they wished to remember.
Marikka placed her hand on the railing.She felt the Spiral breathe.She felt the Athenaeum choose.
"It's not taking us downward," she said quietly.
Aurelian turned. "Then where?"
"Where it believes we should be."
The Spiral accelerated.
Cedric shouted something that sounded like an insult to several improvised deities.Marikka closed her eyes, let the vibrations flow through her, and tried to understand.
What she felt chilled her.
The Spiral was searching for…another presence.
Not the Fragment.Not the Inquisitor.
Someone—or something—they were not supposed to meet yet.
When the steps slowed, they reached a circular platform lit by fine gold filaments.On the wall, carved in perfectly smooth characters, a sentence gleamed:
LOST DRAFTS – RESTRICTED ACCESS
Cedric froze. "Are we… under the Drafts Sector?"
"No," Aurelian said.
Marikka inhaled.
They were inside the Sector.
And someone was waiting.
A vibration unlike any she had felt before.Not hostile.Not cold.
Like hers.Almost… human.
Cedric saw her expression shift."Marikka? What do you feel?"
She swallowed.
"Someone like me."