Entering the squad's headquarters, all Tom could hear was the sound of silence. He saw no one in the corridors — neither Laylla near the kitchen entrance nor Fox in her room.
He even considered taking an extra bath in the thermal springs, since he felt a bit worn out from the teleportations he had done on the way back. Still, deep down, he was smiling. His ascendant powers were something he felt proud of — something he even wanted to brag about, at least to himself.
Once I get a better grasp on teleportation, I'll go back to Veyrael's hall. If anything happens, I can just teleport back.
Upon reaching his room, Tom quickly carried the book about hods to his desk, pulled out a sheet of paper to take notes, and at the same time began testing changes and functions related to his own power in real time.
If anyone had seen him at that moment, they would probably find it strange: a guy gesturing at the air, muttering random phrases, and acting out attacks; all by himself.
During that time, Tom confirmed three things.
The first was that by closing his left middle and index fingers twice in a row, he left behind a mark bearing the symbol of an eye with a glowing pupil.
The second was that performing the same movement with the fingers of his right hand caused him to instantly teleport to wherever he had left that mark.
The third was that each mark could only be used once, and after being activated, it vanished completely.
A fourth discovery, which he made indirectly, was that teleporting short distances — like within his own room — was far less exhausting than covering long distances, such as going from the carriage to the d'Kallivyeski Library, or from there to the pit.
Still, after countless small teleports, heavy beads of sweat gathered and ran down Tom's tanned skin, as if his body itself were begging for a break.
I'll just take a quick nap…
It was supposed to be just a short nap, but he ended up sleeping far longer, until…
"Shift." "Shift."
"Tom." A calm voice pulled him from sleep.
"Huh… yeah. What?" he replied vaguely, opening his drowsy eyes.
Beside him stood a moderately tall man with tanned skin, a light beard, brown eyes, wearing a white apron and a chef's hat. He looked at Tom with a compassionate expression.
"Snow… what are you doing here?"
"You didn't come to lunch, even after training hard this morning. So I brought your meal."
Moving Tom's book and notes aside, Snow placed a tray on the desk with a plate of rice and stewed meat.
"Yeah… right. I ended up sleeping too long."
Only then did Tom realize he had fallen asleep sitting on the floor, his back resting against the side of the bed, leaving his legs in a very uncomfortable position.
First my head, now my legs… ow.
"Training ascendant powers?" Snow asked, glancing at the mess on the desk, the bed, and the book.
"Uh-huh."
"Can you show me?" Snow smiled faintly.
Shrugging, Tom agreed.
Walking to the door, he closed the middle and index fingers of his left hand twice. Then, with two quick steps, he reached the window on the opposite side of the room and repeated the motion with his right hand.
"Uiinn."
A faint hiss echoed through the room as, in less than a second, Tom vanished from in front of the window and reappeared by the door.
After teleporting, Tom looked to see Snow's reaction. The cook was still standing by the desk, scratching his chin and thin beard, deep in thought.
"Snow?!"
"Tom… why are you here? I mean, how did you end up involved in the princess's capture and become an ascendant?" he asked.
"I already told you. I was heading home when I suddenly appeared in the castle." Tom's brown eyes drifted away.
That's the truth. No one just believes it.
Snow thought for a few more seconds, then picked up the plate and a utensil and walked toward Tom.
"Take this and come with me." He handed Tom the plate and walked out the door.
Holding the plate and picking at the food as he walked, Tom followed him.
They went down the corridor, passing straight by the staircase that led to the second floor. Beyond it was another door — one Tom had never entered before.
Leading the way, Snow opened it, revealing a staircase going downward.
A basement?
They descended the stairs.
Below, tables were cluttered with flasks filled with colorful liquids, worn scrolls, and tools such as tweezers, pliers, rods, and other alchemical instruments. Everything was lit by a single lantern hanging from the ceiling.
What a strange place. Tom thought as he followed Snow through the lab.
"If you'd ended up as a test subject, this is where you'd be."
"What?" Tom laughed nervously at Snow's remark.
Days earlier, when Captain Laylla had told him his options were to join the squad as a mercenary or become a test subject, Tom had assumed the latter was just a bad joke. Apparently, it wasn't.
Reaching the corner of the lab, Snow approached a pile of junk. boxes, foul-smelling carcasses, jars, feathers, and other things that would probably be used later as fuel or experimental ingredients.
Why did Snow tell me to bring food down here?
Swallowing the last bite of meat, Tom suddenly lost his appetite due to the stench and set the plate down on one of the tables.
"Whose lab is this?" It was a fair question.
"It belongs to a brat… I mean, to Mr. Yuki's daughter," Snow replied while rummaging through the boxes.
"Mr. Yuki?" Tom raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. He's one of the squad's captains and our main supplier of resources."
"Wait— so there's more than one captain? I thought Laylla was the only one."
Snow simply nodded, and after knocking over another box, he finally crouched down and pulled out a glass sphere about the size of a soccer ball, mounted on a square base.
Shouldn't that have shattered when you dropped the box? Tom grimaced but walked over to Snow.
"What is that?"
"This is a recording globe. If you infuse it with hods—"
Snow placed the globe on a table, held his open hands slightly above the glass surface, and focused for a few seconds.
"Huh?" Tom let out instinctively when nothing happened.
"Oh." Snow cleared his throat.
"Relax. If it's just infusing hods, I'll do it," Tom said, stepping in.
"Just don't put too much into it, or it'll burst, and trust me, it cost a fortune."
If it was that expensive, why was it buried in junk, and why did you just drop the box? Tom thought indignantly, though all he expressed aloud was a dismissive pfft.
Placing his hands around the glass sphere, Tom blinked twice quickly, allowing him to see the threads of hods running through his body, just as he had in the carriage.
If I can't put in too much, I'll just pull a small thread and connect it to the globe.
He lightly touched the tips of his fingers and felt a faint suction coming from the object, allowing a small amount of his hods to be absorbed.
"That's it. Very good, Tom," the middle-aged cook praised.
"Ts. Thanks."
Little by little, a purple light began to glow across the glass surface.
"You can stop infusing hods now."
At Snow's warning, Tom blinked twice to stop looking at the wires and took a step back, while the cook picked up the globe and carried it close to a wall.
Is this like a projector, but powered by magic?
The wall began reflecting and displaying images, albeit at slightly low quality.
"Where is this from?" Tom asked.
"Just watch first. I'll explain later."
The images showed a vast plain where a brutal war was unfolding. Humans, monsters, giants, and other races slaughtered one another.
Amid the chaos, one figure stood out: a burly man with a thick beard, resembling a Viking, wearing a short purple cloak. He wielded a pale sword and seemed to be constantly searching for something.
More scenes of fierce battles and thunderous magic followed, until it returned to the Viking-like man. Now he was alone, kneeling, visibly exhausted. Driving his sword into the ground, he raised one hand toward the sky, where a glowing point hovered.
Snow tapped the glass, freezing the projected image.
After thinking for a couple of seconds, Tom quickly asked, "I didn't receive that 'glowing point' that guy is trying to grab, did I?"
"Haha, no. Definitely not. What you received is one of the keys," Snow replied, laughing without mockery.
"One of the keys? What do you mean?"
Placing the globe back on the table, Snow began to explain.
"Keys are objects that appear as glowing points. The Superiors use them to grant part of their power to mortals, and those mortals are the ascendants. Each ascendant has a key, connected to a different god, and each grants different powers."
So that's it. The glowing point with rings the being in the mist gave me is also a key… Tom connected the dots.
"Wait, Superiors? Is a Superior the same thing as a god?"
"Yes," Snow confirmed. "And we need to figure out which one is yours."
But I already know who mine is.
Veyrael crossed Tom's mind, but he said nothing. He still needed to decide whether revealing that information to the squad was a good idea.
"Now, back to your first question. Where these images come from," Snow continued.
"This is the final record of the 'Hero's Journey,' a semi-realistic tale about the hero Vollenhart and his epic adventure against mortals and gods in search for the Key of Change."
He pointed to the bearded man in the purple cloak, indicating that he was the hero.
"And that glowing point is the Key of Change; the most powerful of all keys."
Change? Wait… does that mean the prophecy of the change of winds is connected to the Key of Change? As Tom thought, it felt like smoke was about to pour out of his head.
"You probably thought the same thing I did," Snow said, now serious. "Yes, I also believe the 'change of winds' mentioned in the prophecy is connected to the Key of Change."
"So if they're connected, are you saying she received the Key of Change, and that's why the prophecy involves her?" Tom now sounded like a machine gun of questions, firing them without hesitation.
"I think it's unlikely, but not impossible. According to the Hero's Journey, the Key of Change is an omnipotent artifact. I think the omnipotence is exaggerated, but if someone like Princess Emily had received it, she'd be practically a god of destruction walking among mortals."
Yeah, she definitely didn't seem dangerous, let alone a goddess of destruction.
Tom recalled the brief moments he had spent with Emily: confused, worried, a little desperate. A young woman with long blond hair and vivid blue eyes.
He couldn't imagine anything alarming coming from her.
"What I think," Snow said, removing his chef's hat, "is that she became an ascendant. I'm almost certain of it."
Yeah, I wouldn't doubt it, Tom agreed silently.
"Tom," Snow continued, his tone and expression serious.
"Yeah?"
"The SYNC squad will definitely use Emily to reach the Key of Change. We want you to find the key before they do. Maybe it's not omnipotent as the legend claims, but it's certainly powerful enough to fulfill the desires of your heart."
Fulfill the desires of my heart?
Tom ran a hand through his hair, briefly baring his teeth in thought.
"Judging by your reaction, you didn't know any of this, did you?"
"No," he answered honestly.
"You were bound to find out sooner or later. The Superiors eventually tell ascendants about the Key of Change but they do it in whatever way benefits them most. We haven't known each other for a long time, but I want to believe you're the right person to hold it. That's why I'm telling you about the Key of Change and the hero Vollenhart."
"Right…" Tom laughed self-deprecatingly.
It wasn't that he thought he was a bad person but he also couldn't fully accept the idea that he was the best person to wield something so powerful — and dangerous — as the Key of Change.
"Oh, and don't tell Malivor any of this," Snow added, storing the globe away.
What? Tom thought, puzzled and amused.
His expression twisted oddly, making Snow laugh.
As they headed back toward the stairs and the exit, Snow picked up the plate Tom had left on the table.
"Don't waste food," he scolded.
Tom raised his hands and opened his mouth to argue but instead slapped his thighs and left the lab.
After climbing the stairs, Tom closed the door behind them.
Or… could I actually use the Key of Change to return to Earth? A shiver of excitement ran down his spine at the thought.
A few steps ahead, Snow turned left and took the staircase leading upstairs.
"Snow, could I use the Key of Change to go home?" Tom asked, quickening his pace and following him.
Snow glanced back, his brows knitting in confusion. A second later, he spoke.
"Yes. I mean… I think so."
Snow didn't quite understand what Tom meant by "go home," but he was convinced the key could indeed be used to return home — whatever that meant.
Tom was heading back to his room when he heard a door opening. Looking down the corridor, he saw a tall young man with green eyes, slightly messy brown hair, and a purple shirt approaching.
Malivor.
Behind him came Kenji and Akeno — his squadmates.
"So, ready to lose?" Malivor taunted.
"Pfft. Only in your imagination," Tom shot back. He had no intention of losing to him.
…
A few seconds after climbing the stairs. Now, however, several kilometers away from Moonlight's headquarters.
In the living room of a luxurious house filled with paintings, chandeliers, and furniture in an ornate Gothic style dominated by black, red, and brown, a man suddenly opened the door and entered.
"Ah…" A groan followed by heavy breathing. "I really need to stop doing this."
Struggling with aching muscles and joint pain, the squad's cook collapsed against a door. His fingertips were drenched in sweat, and his entire body looked severely strained.
Pulling a small vial from the front pocket of his apron, he yanked off the cap and drank the liquid almost desperately.
Raising two fingers three times, he made a brief gesture of gratitude to the Violet Maiden.
Moments later, his heartbeat slowed, the sweating in his fingers eased, and the pain in his joints became more bearable. Still, he lacked the strength to stand.
Kreek. A hiss followed by the sound of beating wings echoed through the room.
A dark-looking bat flew over the furniture and stopped in front of the man slumped against the door.
In a swirl of blood-red light and shadows, the bat transformed into a pale-skinned man with crimson eyes, dressed in a scarlet formal suit.
"Snow… why do you keep using your powers like this? Take a private carriage, I already told you I'll cover the cost," the vampire said, his expression troubled.
"No, Mr. Yuki. I can't let anyone see me coming here."
"Why do you have to be so stubborn?" Yuki bit his tongue lightly. "And why are you using black-market healing potions when Akeno is with you every day? Just ask her to heal you with magic."
Staring at the empty vial, Snow didn't answer.
Given his situation, he didn't want to worry the members of the Moonlight squad so he continued sacrificing his health bit by bit.
"Anyway, I didn't come here to talk about myself. It's about Tom."
"Tom? All right. Anything new about him?" Yuki's facial muscles relaxed, leaving his face expressionless.
"He… he has the key we've been searching for. His power is still weak, but I'm certain it's the right one." Between labored breaths, Snow smiled faintly.
Hearing this, the vampire looked away and licked the inside of his mouth. He seemed ready to curse, cry, and laugh all at once.
Beyond the spark of hope he hadn't felt in a long time, he was already considering the unfolding of future events and their possible complications, which kept him from showing pure joy.
"Let him grow stronger slowly. If we push too hard, his Superior might reclaim the key," Yuki said, lightly striking one of the room's furnishings. "And I'll resume my research to find out who his Superior is."
"Yes. It's better to proceed carefully this time," the cook agreed.