Chapter 27

It had been several exhausting weeks since Edward began the search for Charles. He had hired private investigators, detectives, and experts in missing persons—anyone who might bring him closer.

But every lead ended in silence, and one by one, each hired professional gave up, unable to uncover anything beyond a handful of dead ends.

Charles's trail seemed to vanish into thin air, and the last known detail was ominous: he had been working as a scientist at a government facility.

From there, the traces stopped cold, as if someone—or something—didn't want him to be found.

Edward sat at his desk, sifting through the same notes and documents he'd gone over a hundred times, hoping to spot something new.

He leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose, frustration washing over him like a tide.

"Where is he?" Edward whispered, his voice low.

The question wasn't just about geography—it was about why. Why had Charles disappeared?

With a heavy heart, Edward knew the truth: if he wanted to find Charles, he'd have to keep looking on his own, no matter what it took. Giving up wasn't an option. He owed it to his madam.

"When they questioned the government, the response was the same—Charles Xavier was supposed to return after the project ended. But if that's true, then where is he now?"

Edward's thoughts swirled in confusion, a knot tightening in his chest. None of it made sense. If the project was over, why hadn't Charles come back?

Had he taken on another assignment without telling anyone? Or had something else happened—something darker, something Edward couldn't yet understand?

The possibilities weighed on him, each one more troubling than the last. Was Charles hiding? Was he in trouble? Or had the people in charge lied about his whereabouts?

Edward shook his head, trying to calm the storm of thoughts. He couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that something wasn't right. And until he found out the truth, there would be no peace.

Meanwhile, in the remote villages of Tibet, Charles moved quietly through crowded markets and narrow streets, blending in as best as he could.

His telepathic abilities allowed him to bypass language barriers, letting him communicate seamlessly with the locals.

He asked shopkeepers, monks, and travelers about the elusive Kunlun—a place whispered about in myths and legends. 

But the response was always the same: puzzled expressions, shrugs, or polite denials. 

"Kunlun?" A wizened old man repeated the word once, as if tasting it for the first time. "Never heard of it."

Charles nodded in thanks, hiding his frustration behind a tight-lipped smile.

Weeks had passed, and he was no closer to finding it.

Some locals thought he was chasing a dream. Others simply laughed it off as a foreigner's fantasy.

Still, Charles pushed on. Now, he sat atop a jagged mountain peak, his legs dangling over the edge, resting his tired body but not his restless mind.

The icy winds stung his face, and the thin air made every breath a struggle. But none of that compared to the frustration gnawing at him. 

He leaned back on his hands, glaring out at the endless expanse of white-capped mountains. The Himalayas stretched out in all directions, vast and unforgiving, as if mocking his efforts. 

"Where the hell is that place?" Charles muttered, voice low but thick with irritation. "This feels like a waste of time. I've been searching for weeks, and I still can't find a trace of it." 

He closed his eyes, focusing, reaching out with his telepathic senses to detect even the faintest signal of something otherworldly—some hidden doorway or energy portal. But the mountains remained silent, offering no answers. 

"The Himalayas are supposed to be the nexus point," he said, exhaling deeply, his breath forming clouds in the cold air. "But I haven't found a damn thing." 

He tilted his head back, staring at the sky as if it might offer some cosmic guidance. His instincts told him he was close—so close.

And yet, every step forward felt like walking in circles, trapped in a labyrinth with no exit. 

Still, giving up wasn't an option. Charles had come too far, endured too much. There had to be something—anything—waiting for him out here. A portal, a clue, a sign. 

Anything. 

Failure wasn't just frustrating—it was maddening. Yet, even with all the setbacks, Charles tightened his jaw and steeled himself. 'I haven't come all this way just to fail.'

With renewed determination, he rose from his resting spot, brushing snow from his coat. The search wasn't over. Not yet. 

"I'll find it," Charles whispered to himself, as if saying the words aloud would make them true. "I have to." 

And with that, he set off down the mountain, scanning the landscape for the slightest hint of a path no one else could see. 

Determined not to give up, Charles goes to another village and began asking around again.

Most people gave him the same tired answers—no one had heard of Kunlun. But just as frustration was starting to creep in again, an older man paused, his weathered face thoughtful. 

"I don't know about Kunlun," the man said slowly, "but I've heard of a place called Kalahia." 

Charles's brow furrowed. "Kalahia?" It was the first time he had heard the name, and his curiosity sparked. "What's that?" 

The old man gave a faint smile, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mystery. "It's a heaven. A sacred place hidden from the eyes of most." 

Charles raised an eyebrow, skepticism bubbling up, but he kept his doubts to himself.

Something about the way the man spoke felt... genuine. And in a world like his—filled with strange forces and otherworldly dimensions—anything was possible. 

"Where exactly is it?" Charles asked, leaning in slightly, as if the man's words might hold the key to everything he had been searching for. 

"It's near Mount Kalpurthia," the man replied, pointing in the direction of distant peaks. "You'll find the entrance somewhere along the slopes." 

Charles gave the man a respectful nod. "Thank you," he said, feeling a flicker of hope reignite within him. 

The man smiled warmly. "You're welcome. May your journey be a safe one." 

As Charles turned away, a surge of excitement washed over him. 'Finally—something new. A lead, at last.'

Even if Kalahia wasn't Kunlun, it was still worth investigating. At the very least, it was something—somewhere—he could explore. And in this endless search, that was more than he had found in weeks. 

The trek toward Mount Kalpurthia wasn't easy. The landscape grew harsher with each step, the winds biting against his skin as the temperature plummeted.

Towering above him, the mountain loomed like a frozen giant, its steep face blanketed in snow and ice. Charles stopped at the base, craning his neck to take in the sheer size of it. 

He stuffed his gloved hands deeper into his coat pockets and let out a low groan. "How the hell am I supposed to climb this thing?" he muttered, the doubt creeping in despite his resolve.

The cold was already seeping into his bones, and the idea of scaling such a colossal peak made him question if this new lead was really worth the trouble. 

A chuckle escaped his lips—a quiet, self-deprecating sound. "I'm really going to regret this, aren't I?" 

But regret or not, there was no turning back. Not now. Something waited for him up there—whether it was Kalahia or another dead end, he wouldn't know unless he tried. 

With a determined sigh, Charles tightened his coat around him, adjusted his scarf, and took the first step toward the mountain, the snow crunching underfoot.

His journey was far from over—and perhaps, just perhaps, this was finally the path he was meant to take.