The grand cathedral stood in solemn splendor at the heart of Lafina, its towering spires piercing the sky like divine fingers reaching toward the heavens. Within its sacred halls, where golden candlelight flickered against stained glass, the faithful gathered in quiet reverence. Chanting voices filled the air, a symphony of devotion that swelled beneath the vast dome.

  At the center of it all, in a chamber of white marble and gold, knelt Saintess Tasha. Draped in flowing robes of purest silk, her face remained hidden beneath a delicate veil, shielding her features from mortal eyes. To the people, she was an untouchable beacon of divinity, the chosen voice of God. Her presence was a miracle, and her words carried the weight of heaven itself.

  But beneath the veil, away from the worshipping masses, was a woman untouched by time. Her radiant beauty did not match her years. Ageless, serene, her skin unblemished as if the passage of time had merely brushed past her. Yet it was not her appearance that truly set her apart—it was the deep well of power that coiled within her, the divine presence that guided her every breath.

  She had been in prayer for hours, her consciousness half-lost in communion with the divine, when suddenly—

  A tremor.

  Not of the earth, not of stone or structure, but of something far greater. A disturbance rippling through the very fabric of existence.

  Her eyes, unseen beneath the veil, snapped open. A strange stillness filled her chest.

  "This presence…"

  Slowly, she rose to her feet, gliding across the pristine floor of the chamber toward the great stained-glass window that overlooked the vast world beyond. Her gaze turned to the sea, toward the deep unknown.

  Beyond the horizon lay the Abyss.

  A place no mortal dared tread.

  The Holy Church had long guarded its secret, ensuring that knowledge of the Abyss remained hidden from common folk. To the world, it did not exist. To scholars, it was a myth. But the truth was far more terrifying—a forbidden ground where creatures of unfathomable power lurked, unseen by human eyes.

  The Church had records, ancient texts that spoke of the horrors within. The creatures of the Abyss did not rise to the surface—not because they could not, but because they chose not to. The surface world, with its feeble magic, was beneath them. Their power could not fully manifest above the depths, and worse—human greed would seek to exploit them.

  If mankind learned of the true existence of such beings…

  Tasha exhaled, slow and measured, yet the unease within her did not fade.

  "Something has shifted."

  It was only for a brief moment, a flicker in her vast perception—but she had felt it. A pulse, deep within the Abyss. An anomaly.

  A presence that did not belong.

  Not a mere beast. Not the usual restless stirrings of the creatures below. This was different. It was new.

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  And it was growing.

  Her fingers curled slightly at her side. No decision could be made lightly. The Church had long agreed never to disturb the Abyss. It was a delicate balance, one that had lasted for centuries. But this—this was something that could not be ignored.

  She turned from the window, the long silk of her robe trailing behind her as she stepped toward the grand chamber doors.

  Moments later, in a secluded hall, she stood before a small gathering of figures clad in silver-trimmed robes. The Holy Scouts. Unlike the Holy Army, which stood as the Church’s might, these individuals served a different role—silent investigators, unseen shadows. They answered only to her, moving beyond the reach of politics or the weight of doctrine.

  Her voice, gentle yet absolute, echoed through the chamber.

  "A disturbance has been felt near the Abyss."

  A hush fell over the room. Even among these elite, the mere mention of that place sent a chill through their bones. They knew what lay beyond the ocean’s edge, buried in darkness.

  "You are to depart at once. Observe from afar. Do not engage. Do not reveal yourselves. You will report directly to me."

  A single moment of hesitation. Then—

  "As the Saintess commands."

  The figures knelt in unison, their hands crossing over their chests in reverence. Without another word, they turned and vanished into the corridors, their mission set.

  Tasha remained still, her thoughts lingering on the distant depths.

  A part of her prayed that this was nothing. A passing fluctuation, a mere shift in the tides of magic.

  But she could not ignore the feeling that something had changed.

  Something was watching.

  And for the first time in years, she felt the weight of the unknown pressing upon her shoulders.

  ---

  The forest near the Magical Academy was still, untouched by the usual disturbances of civilization. Thick trunks, gnarled with age, stood like silent sentinels, their sprawling roots vanishing beneath dense undergrowth. The scent of damp earth lingered in the air, mingling with the faint crackle of residual magic woven into the land. Evening was creeping in, bathing the treetops in the dying glow of the sun. It was a peaceful scene—on the surface. But beneath this serenity, tension coiled like a viper ready to strike.

  Five figures gathered within a small clearing, where a carefully inscribed magical array glowed faintly against the forest floor. The sigils were intricate, pulsating in an unnatural rhythm as they absorbed the last drops of a dark, unknown liquid. The magic embedded in the formation crackled, spreading its influence like invisible threads waiting to ensnare something far beyond human comprehension.

  Thorne crouched beside the array, running his fingers over the delicate carvings in the dirt. His gaze was sharp, calculating, his free hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Are you certain this will hold?" he asked, his voice betraying no emotion, yet edged with an unspoken wariness.

  Aelith, standing nearby with her arms crossed, scoffed. "It’s meant for creatures beyond our understanding. If anything can trap it, this formation can." But even she didn’t sound completely convinced.

  Kneeling at the heart of the array, Antrum grinned as he flicked the empty vial between his fingers, watching the last traces of its contents settle into the formation. "Oh, it will come. Curiosity is a powerful leash, even for something like it." He glanced toward the markings, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Besides, this isn’t just any bait."

  A few steps away, Caelum leaned against a tree, his expression unreadable, his gaze distant. He said nothing, merely watching, waiting.

  And then, there was Frid.

  He was pacing at the edge of the clearing, his lips moving ceaselessly as he whispered to someone who wasn’t there. "You see, Agatha? This is necessary. It will come back to us. It has to. It belongs here, doesn't it?*" He let out a soft chuckle, his fingers twitching as if itching to reach for something unseen. "It left, but that was a mistake. It needs to see… I understand. I understand it better than anyone else."

  His voice grew lower, more reverent, as he exhaled a shaky breath. "It is not like us… It is beyond us. And yet, we try to shackle it like a wild beast." His lips curled into something resembling a smile, his head tilting slightly. "Perhaps that is the only way we can keep it close."

  Aelith shot him a wary glance but said nothing.

  Thorne tightened his grip on his weapon. "Stay focused. If it shows up, we move immediately. No hesitation."

  Aelith nodded, her gaze lingering on the rippling magic within the formation. "It always comes back."

  And so, they waited.