The knock pulled Grey from the whirlpool of thoughts churning inside him.
He blinked, rising slowly from the chair. The warmth of the candle still clung to his skin, but something beneath it all the mark, the memories, the warning whispered that the world he now inhabited was built atop something far less kind.
He reached for the doorknob with a steady hand and opened it.
There, framed in the morning light, stood a tall, middle-aged woman wrapped in a simple blue gown. Her brown eyes carried the gentleness of familiarity, and her warm smile softened the otherwise stern angles of her face.
Grey recognized her instantly.
Aunt May.
She lived on the ground floor, while Grey this body's former owner rented the modest room above.
Without delay, Grey curved his lips into a practiced smile. "Good morning, Aunt May," he greeted politely, mimicking the voice and cadence from the borrowed memories. "How are you today?"
"Fine, fine," she replied with a cheerful lilt. "And what about you, dear Grey? You look pale."
"I'm well too," he said, brushing away her concern. "Is there a reason for your visit this early, Aunt? Some special occasion, perhaps?"
Her eyes lit up.
"A very special one indeed!" she beamed. "I see you're buried in your studies these days. Your father would have been proud watching from the Divine Kingdom of the God of Light."
Grey's smile twitched at the corners. He bowed his head slightly, pretending to feel the warmth her words carried.
"You should take time to enjoy life, child," she added kindly.
"I'll try to," he said softly. "But, what occasion are we celebrating today? I don't recall any holidays."
Aunt May's expression turned animated, her voice filled with reverence. "It wasn't a holiday before, but it is now. This very morning, His Majesty declared today as Holy Light Day. Every commoner is invited to the town hall and shall be rewarded with a silver coin."
Grey's gaze sharpened.
A silver coin?
In the Radiance Empire, where a laborer could toil for a month and still fall short of that sum, such a gesture was nothing short of extraordinary. From what he recalled, even his total savings barely reached three silver coins.
He tilted his head. "Why such sudden generosity from the Emperor?"
Aunt May's voice dropped to a near-whisper, as if sharing a sacred secret.
"You remember the war? The one between the God of Darkness and the Seven Orthodox Gods?"
He nodded slowly.
Memories of his and Grey's surfaced in his mind. A holy war waged for five long years. Cities razed. Temples swallowed by black flame. Murmurs of unspeakable rites in the shadows.
Aunt May leaned closer. "It's over now. The God of Darkness is dead."
Her words struck like a thunderclap.
She continued, brimming with pious joy. "The seven great empires have begun destroying the dark churches. The heretics are being hunted down. Justice, at long last, is upon us! May the God of Light bless His children!"
Grey stood still.
Emotionless.
He forced a small nod. "That is… indeed a joyous occasion. Please, go ahead, Aunt May. I'll visit the town hall a bit later."
She offered one last smile before turning down the corridor.
Grey shut the door and turned the bolt.
The smile vanished.
He returned to his chair like a man burdened by invisible chains and sank into it, pressing his fingertips to his temples. Aunt May's words echoed relentlessly in his mind.
"The God of Darkness is dead."
But hadn't that strange notebook said:
"Congratulations. You are, from now on, a citizen of darkness."
Was he now bound to a god that no longer existed?
Or worse was he the very residue that remained?
He opened his eyes and drew in a breath but froze.
Something was wrong.
The candle on the desk still burned low, its light barely illuminating the area around him. And yet he still felt from his connections from the mark that he could activate his authorities
You may now activate your authorities.
That shouldn't be possible. According to the description embedded in his mind, both abilities the augmentation of strength and concealment could only be used in complete darkness.
But the flame burned. Dim, yes, but present.
Grey's eyes narrowed. Logic told him one thing. But his newfound instincts told him another.
And they screamed:
This isn't real.
As he stared at the candle, its flame began to waver. The shadows around him grew longer, deeper unnaturally so.
The walls stretched. The furniture dissolved. The flickering glow dulled into blackness.
Then-
The illusion shattered.
He found himself standing in an unfamiliar, pitch-black chamber. The air was cold, heavy with dust and something older than time. Across from him stood two men and one woman, cloaked in robes stitched with unknowable symbols.
He opened his mouth to speak but a sharp, burning sensation seared through his eyes.
Pain. Blinding pain.
His legs buckled. The world spun.
And before he could form a single thought..
His consciousness was pulled under.