Zereth’s question lingered between them.

The fountain continued flowing quietly behind him while evening shadows stretched across the garden paths.

For several seconds, Mason simply stared at the document.

They were chosen to witness the gods.

A simple and unforgettable sentence.

The kind that immediately created more questions than answers.

Unfortunately, those were the only kind of answers this kingdom seemed capable of producing.

"You’re asking the wrong person," Mason finally said.

Zereth continued watching him.

"I don’t think I am."

Wonderful...That response was exactly the opposite of reassuring.

Athlian had gone silent again.

The silence felt heavier this time.

Almost reluctant, as though she wanted to speak but couldn’t decide how much to reveal.

Mason folded the document and handed it back.

"Let’s assume Heaven erased them."

Zereth accepted the parchment. "Very well."

"Then either the Witnesses discovered something dangerous..."

He paused.

"...or they discovered something embarrassing."

To his surprise, Zereth actually smiled which disappeared almost immediately.

"You always assume the worst."

"I’ve lived here long enough."

The immortal could not argue with that.

Because honestly, recent events have proven Mason right more often than not.

The two began walking slowly through the gardens.

The palace remained unusually active despite the late hour.

Servants crossed distant pathways.

Guards rotated positions.

Messengers hurried between buildings carrying sealed reports.

The Heaven Fracture might have ended weeks ago, but nobody had truly relaxed since.

The kingdom remained tense...preparing for something nobody fully understood.

Eventually Zereth spoke again. "The missing records concern more than the Witnesses."

Mason looked toward him. "What else?"

"Ancient contracts."

Athlian reacted immediately.

The response was subtle.

A ripple of unease through the soul bridge.

But Mason felt it, every time.

"What kind of contracts?"

"I don’t know yet."

That answer surprised him.

Zereth rarely admitted uncertainty. The silver-eyed immortal glanced toward the palace.

"Several sections were removed too cleanly."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning whoever erased them understood exactly what they were looking for."

Interesting and deeply concerning, because random theft was one thing.

Targeted removal suggested planning,Intention and knowledge.

The sort of knowledge most people weren’t supposed to possess.

Athlian stirred quietly. ’Someone was afraid.’

Mason nearly rolled his eyes. "Everyone keeps saying that."

’Because it’s true.’

That wasn’t comforting.

The conversation ended shortly afterward.

Zereth departed toward the archive wing while Mason returned toward the residential quarters.

His head hurt.

Apparently headaches had become a permanent feature of royal life.

The moment he entered his chambers, he collapsed onto a nearby couch.

Athlian spoke immediately.

’You should not trust that document.’

"Which one?"

’The Witness record.’

Interesting because that was the first real opinion she’d offered all evening.

He sat up. "Why?"

A pause followed.

’Because parts of it are missing.’

He stared at the ceiling. "That’s true for literally every ancient document."

’Not like this.’

That got his attention.

"Explain."

Athlian hesitated.

"I hate when you do that."

’I know.’

"Then stop."

Another pause.

’The Witnesses were never important because they watched the gods.’

Mason frowned. "Then why were they important?"

She kept mute.

He was beginning to suspect divine beings received formal training in avoiding direct answers.

A knock interrupted before he could continue.

Peace remained illegal.

The door opened.

Draca entered carrying several reports.

He stared.

Draca stared back.

Neither spoke.

Finally Mason broke the silence.

"You’ve started appearing every time my life becomes stressful."

The commander raised an eyebrow.

"That happens often."

"Fair."

Draca crossed the room and placed the reports on a nearby table.

He settled into the chair opposite him.

The commander looked exhausted.

More exhausted than usual.

Which immediately concerned Mason.

"What happened?"

"Another temple dispute."

"There it is."

Draca rubbed his forehead. "The eastern clergy refuse to cooperate with the southern temples."

"Why?"

"Different explanations for the Heaven Fracture."

Of course...religious politics.

The world’s oldest headache.

Mason groaned. "Let me guess."

Draca sighed. "One side believes it was divine punishment."

"And the other?"

"A warning."

"Creative."

Neither explanation sounded remotely useful.

Unfortunately that rarely stopped people.

The commander leaned back.

"The Coalition representatives are making things worse."

"How?"

"They keep asking questions."

Mason blinked. "Questions are usually normal."

"Not these questions."

That answer immediately caught his attention.

"What kind of questions?"

Draca hesitated.

"They want access to restricted archives."

Athlian became still.

Completely still.

Mason felt it instantly.

The reaction was impossible to miss.

"What archives?"

"The oldest ones."

There it was...another coincidence. And Mason had officially stopped believing in coincidences.

The conversation continued for nearly an hour.

Political concerns.

Security concerns.

Recovery efforts.

Ordinary problems.

Compared to divine conspiracies and hidden contracts, normal governance almost felt relaxing.

Eventually Draca stood. "You should rest my goddess."

Mason pointed dramatically. "Everyone keeps saying that."

"Because you’re exhausted."

"You’re exhausted too."

"Probably."

The honesty surprised him. It also made him smile.

A small one.

Draca noticed anyway.

The commander always noticed, which remained unfair.

After he left, the room felt quieter.

Athlian noticed because the emotional shift lingered through the soul bridge.

But neither addressed it.

The next morning arrived with another council meeting.

Mason hated council meetings.

This was becoming a pattern.

The chamber was already crowded when he arrived.

With nobles, ministers, temple representatives, military officials and coalition observers.

The room looked less like a government gathering and more like a collection of people actively regretting their life choices.

A reasonable atmosphere.

The discussions began immediately.

Trade routes.

Reconstruction funding.

Infrastructure damage.

Economic losses.

Arguments followed naturally.

Apparently political traditions remained alive and well.

Several hours passed.

Then the conversation shifted towards the archives.

Immediately the tension returned.

A Coalition representative stood.

"The recovered records must be reviewed independently."

A temple delegate objected immediately.

"They belong to the kingdom."

"They concern matters beyond the kingdom."

"They concern our history."

"They concern everyone."

Mason was already developing a headache.

The debate continued longer and

Monger.

More irritating.

Eventually Seraphine slammed a hand against the table.

Silence followed.

Instant silence which is Impressive because the woman possessed terrifying efficiency.

"The archives remain sealed."

Nobody looked happy.

Several people looked furious.

Others looked nervous.

Interesting combination.

The meeting ended without resolution.

Apparently nobody was allowed answers anymore.

Only questions.

As everyone departed, Mason noticed Zereth standing near one of the chamber windows...waiting.

That alone felt suspicious.

The immortal approached once the room emptied.

"I found another discrepancy."

Mason sighed...ff course he did.

"What now?"

"Financial records."

That wasn’t the answer he expected.

"Financial records?"

Zereth nodded. "The archive removals weren’t limited to religious documents."

"What disappeared?"

The silver-eyed immortal glanced around before answering. "Funding records."

Mason frowned.

That sounded far less dramatic than divine contracts.

Which meant it was probably worse.

"Funding for what?"

"An organization that no longer officially exists."

Athlian reacted immediately.

"What organization?" Mason asked.

Zereth’s expression hardened. "The Witnesses."

Silence followed.

Real silence, not the awkward kind.

The dangerous kind.

The kind that appeared when separate

pieces suddenly started connecting.

Mason crossed his arms. "You’re telling me the Witnesses had funding?"

"Extensive funding."

Because secret organizations usually didn’t receive official budgets.

At least not honest ones.

The immortal continued. "For nearly four centuries."

Mason stared...then blinked.

He stared again. "Four centuries?"

"Yes."

"That’s absurd."

"I agree."

The implication settled slowly.

The Witnesses hadn’t been a forgotten cult. Or a religious faction or small secret society.

They had been important, powerful and

established.

Which raised an obvious question. If they mattered that much...How had they vanished?

Athlian’s emotions became increasingly unsettled.

Something was happening to her.

Something she wasn’t discussing. And Mason was beginning to notice.

That evening brought another dream.

The moment sleep claimed him, the memory arrived...which aren’t entirely his.

A long hallway.

Silver pillars.

Endless light.

Voices echoing in the distance.

Someone walking ahead.

A figure he couldn’t quite see.

Then another image.

A massive door covered in ancient familiar symbols.

The same symbols carved beneath the palace prison.

The same ones hidden inside damaged records.

The same ones appearing repeatedly throughout the investigation.

A voice spoke softly and sadly.

"You should not have witnessed it."

Mason turned.

The dream shattered immediately.

He woke up gasping.

Darkness filled the room...moonlight spilled through the balcony windows.

His heart raced.

Athlian was completely awake.

Neither spoke.

Several seconds passed...Mason finally broke the silence.

"You saw that too."

.

Athlian answered quietly. ’Yes.’

He sat upright.

The room suddenly felt colder.

"What was it?"

No response.

He closed his eyes and counted to five.

"What was It, Athlian?"

Athlian remained silent at first, she later sighed before responding.

’I don’t know’

For the first time... He believed her.

That realization unsettled him more than any answer could have.

Because if Athlian didn’t know...then whatever they were seeing existed beyond

even her understanding.

The following morning, everything changed.

Not because of another disaster, heaven intervention or ancient monster.

The change came from something far smaller.

A servant, one nervous palace servant carrying a single document.

The report reached Zereth first.

Then Seraphine.

Then Draca.

Then Mason.

By the time he finished reading it, the room had gone completely silent.

The document itself was simple.

A newly recovered inventory list from a collapsed archive chamber.

Nothing unusual or dramatic.

Except for one detail.

One impossible detail.

The inventory had been dated.

Not centuries or decades ago but three months ago.

Someone had been accessing the forbidden archive long before the Heaven Fracture.

Someone with authorization and powerful enough to bypass every restriction.

Mason looked up slowly.

Draca looked concerned.

Seraphine looked angry.

Zereth looked vindicated.

Athlian felt terrified.

Then Zereth revealed the final line from the recovered inventory.

And for the first time in days...nobody had a joke or an answer.

Because the document listed exactly who had entered the restricted archive.

And the name written there...

Should have belonged to someone who had been dead for over a thousand years.