CHAPTER 75 — The Forgotten Archives
The stadium corridors were empty.
Not the emptiness of calm, not the silence of peace. A heavy emptiness, oppressive, as if the very stones were holding their breath. The crowd was still in the stands, their cries distant, muffled by the thick walls. Sometimes, a vibration passed through the floor — a roar, an applause, a sound of a human mass in delirium.
Zayn and Yojuro walked in silence.
Their footsteps echoed on the worn flagstones, a regular echo that broke against the bare walls. The air was cool, almost cold, filled with a smell of dust and ancient metal. The torches, suspended at regular intervals, flickered softly, casting moving shadows on the grey stones.
"Why are we going to the locker rooms?" asked Zayn, his voice low.
"To prepare. Your fight against Loyd is soon."
"I'm already ready."
"You're nervous."
"I'm focused."
Yojuro didn't answer. He kept walking, hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed ahead.
Zayn followed him, fists clenched. He felt his heart beating a little too fast. He wasn't afraid of Loyd. Not really. But he knew this fight would be different. More dangerous. More personal.
They turned into a secondary corridor.
The torches were sparser here. The light, weaker. The walls, bare, without decorations, without windows. A forgotten corridor, as if no one had passed through it in years.
Zayn stopped.
"Do you hear that?"
Yojuro stopped too. He listened.
A sound. Faint. Regular. Like a scratching, or a breath, or a whisper coming from behind the walls. Not a human sound. A sound of paper, of parchment, of something moving in the shadows.
"Over there," Yojuro murmured.
He traced the wall, placed a hand on the stone. His fingers slid over the cracks, searching for an irregularity, a joint, a flaw. He stopped.
"Here."
He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his iris was violet. The symbol of the Kairos Eyes appeared, turning slowly, like a divine clock rewinding time. Violet particles floated around his face.
He placed his hand on the wall.
The stone trembled. A silent vibration passed through the flagstones. Then, slowly, a door appeared. Not a door that opens — a door that reveals itself, as if it had always been there, hidden behind an illusion that Yojuro had just shattered.
"How did you do that?" asked Zayn, his voice strained.
"I reversed the order of things. The wall was designed to hide what it contains. I reversed that intention."
"That's convenient."
"That's dangerous."
He pushed the door.
The room was dark, cold, filled with a smell of old paper and ancient dust. Shelves rose to the ceiling, loaded with files, parchments, leather-bound books. Entire rows, hundreds of documents, some yellowed, others still clean, as if freshly printed.
A secret library. Forgotten. Forbidden.
Zayn stepped forward, his eyes adjusting to the dim light.
"What is this place?"
"Archives. Files the UAP doesn't want to show."
"How do you know?"
"Because they're hidden."
Zayn walked along the shelves, his fingers brushing the spines of the books. Names, dates, symbols. Mission reports, miracle analyses, profiles of fallen Paladins. Secrets that had been buried.
He stopped before a file.
Its name was different from the others. Not a Paladin's name. Not a Djinn's name. Not a name he had ever seen. An unknown name, written in black letters on a grey cover.
He opened it.
"Hey, Yojuro, come here."
Yojuro approached, eyes narrowed.
Zayn read aloud, the words falling like drops of lead.
"Project Romanov… Subject N.R. — Created from the DNA of Kaelan, UGC prisoner… Abilities: laser vision, titanic strength, flight, accelerated evolution… Emotional stability: to be monitored…"
He looked up.
"What is this thing?"
Yojuro didn't answer. He took the file, flipped through it quickly.
"The UAP created an experiment. A hybrid. A weapon."
"A weapon?"
"A girl. Nefaria Romanov."
Zayn felt a chill at the back of his neck. A shiver that ran down his spine.
"She's at the Academy?"
"Probably."
A sound. Behind them.
Zayn turned. A silhouette stood in the doorway of the secret room. A guard, in a black uniform, his hand on his weapon. He looked at them with cold eyes, without surprise — as if he knew they were there.
"You are not authorized to be here."
He stepped forward.
Zayn stepped back. Yojuro didn't move. He stood still, hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the guard.
"We're lost," said Zayn, his voice a little too high. "We took the wrong corridor."
"Forbidden corridors are not taken by mistake."
The guard placed his hand on his weapon.
Zayn felt his heart race. He looked at Yojuro, searching for a solution.
Yojuro looked at him, expressionless.
"Zayn."
"What?"
"Spirit X."
Zayn understood. He closed his eyes. He raised his wrist, placed his hand on the center of Borealis. The black metallic bracelet vibrated, the green runes lighting up.
"Aurora."
The hologram appeared, small, luminous.
"Yes, Zayn?"
"Spirit X."
"Activation."
The green light engulfed him.
His body changed. Not abruptly — gradually. His silhouette became blurred, then transparent, like water turning murky. His arms elongated, his legs faded, his face became a shadow without features.
He was Spirit X. Intangible. Silent. Invisible.
He passed through the wall.
He moved behind the guard, silent, immaterial. The guard hadn't seen him. He hadn't felt him.
Zayn materialized behind him for an instant, and struck. A sharp, precise blow to the base of the skull.
The guard collapsed, unconscious, before hitting the ground.
Zayn caught him, laid him gently on the floor. No sound. No impact. Just a sleeping body.
"Quiet," he murmured.
Yojuro looked at him, a faint smile on his lips.
"Not bad."
"I learned."
Yojuro tucked the file into his coat.
"Let's go. We'll talk about it later."
Zayn nodded. He looked one last time at the secret library, the shelves loaded with secrets, the shadows dancing in the dim light.
Then he followed Yojuro.
The two disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.
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