Chapter 6: Research

Chapter 6:

Alex sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the translucent screen hovering in front of him. It listed the same words over and over:

Do you wish to accept your invitation to the University of Haverix? Y/N

The question pulsed faintly, each beat synced with the tattoo on his chest. His room was dark, illuminated only by the cold blue glow of the interface and the weak light from a streetlamp outside his window. The silence in the room felt oppressive, broken only by the occasional hum of passing cars.

He ran a hand through his hair, his mind a chaotic swirl of emotions. He'd been dropped into a world he didn't understand, bound by a sigil tied to something ancient and mysterious. And now, in just three days, he was expected to leave everything behind—his family, friends, and the life he knew—to attend a school that existed in some kind of parallel dimension.

Could he really just... go? He didn't have an answer, but he knew it would not be a restful night.

The next morning, Alex decided he needed answers. He sat at his desk, the early light filtering through the blinds, and opened his laptop. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of how to even start. Finally, he began typing:

Who is Baron Samedi?

Tattoo suddenly appeared on chest.

Signs of being chosen for magic.

The results poured in, but they were exactly what he expected—forums filled with wild speculation, occult websites peddling "authentic" talismans, and articles dismissing the supernatural as folklore. He clicked through a few links, skimming posts from users debating the existence of spirits and sharing dubious photos of supposed hauntings. Nothing useful.

Frustrated, Alex leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. "Of course," he muttered. "Because Google's definitely going to have the answers to magic tattoos."

Still, he wasn't ready to give up. He refined his search:

Baron Samedi lore.

Crossroads spirits.

Vodou myths.

This time, his screen was filled with articles about Haitian Vodou and its loa—spirits who served as intermediaries between the living and the divine. Baron Samedi, the guardian of the dead, was one of the most prominent. Known for his sharp wit and love of mischief, he was often depicted wearing a top hat, dark glasses, and a coat. He presided over life and death, but also over transitions and crossroads.

The deeper Alex dug, the more unsettling the descriptions became. He read accounts of rituals invoking the Baron, stories of deals made at the crossroads, and warnings about the cost of his favor. Though many of the sources were steeped in sensationalism, certain threads seemed to echo Professor Jean's words: choice, transformation, and consequence.

One post, buried in a long-forgotten forum, caught Alex's eye. It was titled "Marked by the Crossroads." The author described waking up with a sigil on their chest after a strange encounter, claiming it was a symbol of an ancient pact. They mentioned visions of a robed figure and a sense of being watched. The post ended abruptly, with the last line reading: "If you see the Baron, you've already chosen."

Alex felt a chill crawl down his spine. The parallels to his situation were undeniable. He sat back, staring at the screen, his heart pounding. He wasn't sure if he felt more reassured or terrified.

"Great," he said to himself. "So, I'm not the only one this has happened to. But that doesn't explain why it's happening to me."

Unsatisfied with what he found online, Alex decided to check out the local library. He figured if there was any real information about magic or parallel dimensions, it might be buried in the dusty shelves of old books.

The library was quiet, its aisles mostly empty on a weekday afternoon. He walked toward the reference section, passing rows of shelves filled with thick, leather-bound tomes and fragile yellowed paperbacks. There was something comforting about the musty smell of old books and the quiet hum of fluorescent lights.

Alex made his way to the library's occult and folklore section, scanning the spines of books for anything that might stand out. Titles like Mysteries of the Occult and Legends of the Crossroads caught his eye, but most seemed like they'd belong more in a fiction aisle than in a serious academic setting.

He pulled out a few promising volumes and settled at a nearby table, spreading the books out in front of him. The first book, Spirits of the Crossroads: Legends of the Loa, seemed like a good start. It offered detailed accounts of the loa, including Baron Samedi. Alex flipped to the chapter on Baron Samedi, skimming through stories of how the Baron would guide lost souls or strike deals with those desperate enough to seek him out.

"The Baron appears at critical moments in one's life," one passage read, "often at times of transition or when a significant choice must be made. His presence is a test, a guide, and a warning all in one. Those who bear his mark are tied to the crossroads and the choices that define them."

Alex traced the words with his finger, the phrase 'those who bear his mark' standing out. The sigil on his chest pulsed faintly as if in response.

The next book, Dimensional Pathways and Hidden Realms, was less folklore and more theory. It delved into the idea of alternate dimensions and pocket realms, describing them as spaces existing between the physical and spiritual planes. One chapter described demi-planes—smaller, self-contained worlds often linked to powerful entities or ancient rituals.

Alex's mind raced as he read. A school in a demi-plane? It sounded absurd, but after everything he'd experienced, he couldn't dismiss it outright. This book also hinted at the existence of powerful artifacts—objects used to bridge the gap between realms. He thought back to the necklace. Was it one of those artifacts? Could it really have been an invitation?

Finally, Alex opened a thinner, older-looking book called Bindings and Pacts: A History of Magical Contracts. The language was archaic, but one passage caught his attention:

"A pact is not always sought; sometimes it finds the individual. The terms of such agreements are often tied to the bearer's potential, with the sigil marking their soul as a participant in a greater design. The bearer's acceptance activates the bond, drawing them into the pact's domain."

It seemed eerily close to what Professor Jean had described. Alex leaned back, staring at the open book. The pieces were starting to fit together, but they raised even more questions. Why him? What potential could he possibly have? And what would happen if he said no?

The faint hum of the library and the distant sound of pages turning brought him back to reality. He glanced at the clock. He'd been there for hours. His head ached from the sheer volume of information, yet he felt no closer to a decision.

On the walk home, Alex replayed everything he'd learned. The legends, the theories, the cryptic warnings—they all pointed to one truth: this was real. The University of Haverix, the pact, the Baron—it wasn't some elaborate prank or a vivid dream. But the weight of that truth only made his decision harder.

Could he leave everything behind? His family, his friends, his life?

Alex made dinner, ate, and got ready for bed. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall. His thoughts were a storm of doubt and curiosity. Part of him longed to say yes, to leap into the unknown and see where this new path would take him. But another part of him was terrified of what he might lose.

He sighed, lying back on his bed. "Why me?" he whispered into the quiet room.

The sounds of the city offered him no answers, and all he could think before drifting off to sleep was maybe his mom might give him some advice.