The hidden chamber had grown unnaturally still.
It wasn't just silence.
It was the kind of silence that felt… aware.
As if the walls themselves had been waiting for this exact moment—for someone to stand here, holding that book, ready to uncover what had been sealed for centuries.
Aerion stood at the center of it all, the ancient book resting firmly in his hands.
Lyria stood beside him, closer than usual, her eyes fixed on the cover as if she could already feel the weight of the truth hidden inside.
"Egg of Calamity."
The words didn't just sit there.
They pressed against them.
Aerion inhaled slowly.
"…Ready?" he asked.
Lyria didn't hesitate.
"No."
A small pause.
Then—
"…But open it anyway."
That earned the faintest hint of a smile from him.
And without another word—
He opened the book.
The first page turned with a soft, dry sound.
Both of them leaned in slightly.
No text.
No explanation.
Only an image.
A single feather.
Perfectly drawn.
But it didn't feel like a drawing.
The feather was sharp yet elegant, its structure too detailed, too precise—like it had been captured from reality itself rather than imagined. Thin golden lines ran through it, glowing faintly, as if energy was flowing inside it even now.
Lyria narrowed her eyes.
"…That's not normal ink."
Aerion didn't answer immediately.
Because he felt it too.
There was something in that image.
Something that wasn't just visual.
"…It feels alive," he said quietly.
Lyria didn't argue.
Because she felt it as well.
Her gaze lingered on the feather for a moment longer before she exhaled softly.
"…Turn the page."
Aerion nodded.
And did.
The next page was completely different.
Words.
Bold.
Ancient.
Carved rather than written.
At the top—
"Incident of the Fire Moon"
Lyria's reaction was instant.
Her body stiffened.
"…No way."
Aerion looked at her.
"You know this?"
She didn't look at him.
Her eyes were locked on the page.
"This… is one of the worst disasters in history."
Her voice had lowered.
More serious now.
"Six hundred years ago… the sky turned red for three nights."
Aerion's brows furrowed.
"…Three nights?"
She nodded slowly.
"They called it the Fire Moon because the moon itself looked like it was burning. Not glowing—burning."
Her fingers curled slightly at her side.
"Entire kingdoms disappeared. Cities turned to ash. The land itself cracked open in some places."
She finally looked at him.
"And the worst part?"
Aerion waited.
"No one knew why it happened."
The weight of that statement settled heavily between them.
Aerion looked back at the book.
"…Then this is where we find out."
Lyria nodded once.
"…Yeah."
"Keep reading."
Aerion's voice grew quieter as he continued.
"'During the age of balance… Seven Primordial Beings of Light existed within the world.'"
He paused briefly, then continued.
"'They were not rulers, nor kings… but guardians. Entities born from the origin of existence itself.'"
Lyria folded her arms slowly.
"…Primordial beings…"
Aerion turned the page.
"'Each carried an absolute force—Sun, Light, Flame, Life, Sky, Time, and Soul.'"
He looked at her.
"…These are what people later started calling gods."
Lyria nodded faintly.
"But they weren't meant to be worshipped."
"They were meant to protect."
Aerion turned the page again.
The tone shifted.
Darker.
He read slowly.
"'From beyond the origin… Ten Primordial Beings of Ruin emerged.'"
Lyria's expression hardened instantly.
"…There it is."
Aerion continued.
"'These beings did not create balance… but sought to erase it.'"
"'Through their Apostles, they spread destruction, corruption, and chaos.'"
The air in the chamber felt heavier.
More suffocating.
"…Apostles," Lyria repeated quietly.
"Chosen carriers of their power," Aerion said.
"On both sides."
She nodded.
"…So the world became a battlefield."
Aerion didn't disagree.
Because the next lines confirmed it.
"'And thus… the War of Origin began.'"
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Aerion turned the next page.
And what he read next—
Changed everything.
His voice slowed.
"'During the Fire Moon… the Seven Primordial Beings of Light clashed against the Ten Primordial Beings of Ruin.'"
Lyria's eyes widened.
"…All of them?"
Aerion nodded slowly.
"All of them."
He continued.
"'The battle shattered the sky itself…'"
"'Oceans boiled… mountains split… and continents broke apart.'"
Lyria's breathing slowed.
"…That's not a war."
"That's extinction."
Aerion didn't look away from the page.
"'The clash lasted beyond time itself…'"
"'Light and darkness collided without end…'"
"'Yet… neither side achieved victory.'"
The words echoed in the chamber.
Neither side won.
Lyria whispered softly.
"…So all that destruction…"
"…For nothing."
Aerion continued.
"'When the destruction reached its peak… both sides vanished.'"
"'No bodies remained… no remnants… no victors.'"
Silence.
Then—
The final line on that page.
"'Only eggs were left behind.'"
Lyria's breath caught.
"…Eggs…"
Aerion turned the page slowly.
"'Scattered across existence… as if their purpose had been fulfilled.'"
"'As if they were waiting… for the next era.'"
A deep stillness settled in the room.
Because now—
They understood.
This wasn't random.
This wasn't a coincidence.
This was a cycle.
Aerion continued reading.
"'Every six hundred years… calamity returns.'"
"'And with it… the Eggs of Primordial Power reappear.'"
Lyria looked at him.
"…So this is happening again."
Aerion nodded slowly.
"…Yeah."
"And we're part of it."
Neither of them denied that.
He turned another page.
"'The Egg of the Sun Primordial does not appear randomly.'"
Aerion's grip tightened slightly.
"'The one who finds it must understand…'"
He paused.
"…'You did not find the egg.'"
"…'The egg found you.'"
Lyria's gaze shifted to him slowly.
Aerion didn't react.
But inside—
Something settled.
A truth he had already felt.
"'From birth, the chosen carries the dormant blessing of the Sun.'"
"'The egg appears only to awaken that power.'"
Lyria exhaled softly.
"…So you were chosen from the beginning."
Aerion didn't argue.
"…Looks like it."
He continued.
"'Within the egg resides a living entity… born from the essence of the Sun Primordial itself.'"
Lyria whispered, "…So something is really inside it…"
"'The Apostle must form a bond with the being.'"
"'The strength of the Apostle's power depends on that bond.'"
She looked at him.
"…So it's not just power."
"No."
"…It's connection."
Aerion nodded.
"…Yeah."
They reached the final pages.
New words began to appear.
Faint at first.
Then clearer.
"If you are reading this… then you are the successor of the Sun Primordial."
Neither of them spoke.
Because now—
It wasn't a theory.
It was confirmation.
More words formed beneath it.
"Because this book can only appear through the power of the egg…"
"And the egg exists only with its rightful successor."
"This book is passed from one successor to another."
"For now, it contains only limited pages…"
"But once the egg hatches, more pages will be revealed."
"The stronger your bond becomes…"
"The more pages will appear."
"These pages will guide you… and reveal your powers."
"No ancient spells shall be written here in this time ."
"But later on, ancient spells and weapons might appear—if bond get intense."
Lyria exhaled slowly.
"…So this grows with you."
Aerion nodded.
"…Yeah."
They turned the last page.
And froze.
Because there—
Resting silently—
Was the feather.
Real.
Golden.
Alive.
The same one from the first page.
"…That's not just a symbol," Lyria whispered.
Aerion stepped closer.
"…No."
Suddenly—
It began to glow.
Brighter.
Hotter.
Alive.
Before they could react—
It shot forward.
Straight into Aerion's neck.
"Aerion!"
He staggered slightly, gripping his collar.
The light spread—
Then vanished.
Gone.
Lyria grabbed him immediately.
"Are you okay?!"
"…Yeah…"
"No pain?"
"…No."
He touched his neck.
"…Nothing visible."
"…That's not comforting."
Then—
Final words appeared.
"The feather you received is bound to the being within the egg."
"When the Apostle and the Primordial entity awaken their power…"
"The mark shall appear."
Aerion touched his neck again.
"…Invisible."
Lyria sighed.
"That's somehow worse."
Then—
One last message appeared.
Different.
Personal.
"You might be wondering…"
"If this book belongs only to a successor…"
"Then how did it come here?"
Both of them went completely still.
"The answer is simple."
"I was once the successor of the Sun Primordial."
"And by the time you read this…"
"I will have become the Sun God."
Silence filled the chamber.
Heavy.
Deep.
Unavoidable.
"I await you… my successor."
The glow faded.
The book fell silent.
And the air felt colder than before.
Lyria looked at Aerion slowly.
"…So you're not the first."
Aerion closed the book.
"…No."
His gaze shifted toward the egg outside.
"…But I won't be the last either."
Far away—
Something ancient stirred.
And this time—
It was waiting for him.