Chapter 34

Elliot didn't move. He barely even breathed.

The whisper that had just curled around his ear wasn't just sound—it carried weight, a presence that pressed against his mind.

"Who are you?"

The question lingered, not demanding an answer, but expecting one.

Elliot's gaze locked onto the mask.

It was a simple thing, really—smooth and featureless, yet wrong in a way he couldn't explain. It wasn't just sitting on the pedestal; it was waiting.

And somehow, he was the one it had been waiting for.

He swallowed hard. "I…"

Did it even matter what he said?

Elliot Graves. A librarian. A nobody.

Or was he something else now?

He took another step forward. The air thickened. The glyphs floating around the room pulsed in response.

Then, without warning—

Darkness exploded outward.

Elliot staggered back as the space around him shifted. The grand hall blurred, twisting like liquid, and suddenly he wasn't alone.

Figures emerged from the void—shadows in the shape of men, their forms flickering like dying embers. They surrounded him, unmoving, silent.

Then—one of them spoke.

"Do you seek power?"

The words rang through the chamber, not spoken by any single figure but by all of them at once.

Elliot clenched his fists. "That depends."

A second voice, smoother, sharper.

"On what?"

He hesitated. "On the cost."

The shadows shifted. A low murmur filled the space, like the rustling of ancient parchment.

"There is always a cost."

A third voice. Softer, almost amused.

"But perhaps you have already paid it."

Elliot's breath caught.

He didn't know what they meant. Or maybe—maybe he did, and he just didn't want to face it.

The mask on the pedestal pulsed, as if listening.

A final voice, colder than the others.

"Will you wear it?"

—

Elliot stared at the mask.

Every story, every legend about the Mask of the Veil—it was always the same. Those who wore it vanished. No one knew what happened to them.

Some said they died. Others believed they became something else.

But no one ever returned.

His fingers twitched.

This was insane. This was beyond insane.

And yet—

Hadn't his whole life changed the moment he opened that book?

Hadn't he already stepped onto a path he didn't understand?

His pulse thundered in his ears.

Then, before he could think too hard about it—

He reached out.

His fingers brushed the surface of the mask.

The moment he touched it—

The world shattered.

The moment Elliot's fingers made contact with the mask, reality fractured.

A deafening rush filled his ears—like a thousand whispers screaming at once. The shadows that surrounded him collapsed inward, twisting, warping, dissolving into liquid night.

And then—

Silence.

Elliot opened his eyes.

He was no longer in the grand hall.

He stood in a void. An endless expanse of shifting, shimmering blackness stretched around him, neither solid nor air, neither dark nor light.

He turned, but there was nothing. No walls. No sky. No ground beneath his feet, and yet, somehow, he stood.

"Where am I?"

His voice didn't echo. It didn't even sound like it belonged to him anymore.

Then, just ahead—

A figure appeared.

Not walked. Not emerged. Just… appeared.

Elliot stiffened.

It was a man.

No, not quite.

The figure wore robes woven from the same shifting blackness as the void. Its face was almost human, but too smooth, too perfect—like a mask sculpted from pure shadow.

And its eyes—

White. Hollow. Endless.

"You stand at the Threshold." The voice was neither loud nor soft. It simply was. "The place between what was and what will be."

Elliot swallowed. "And you are?"

The figure didn't move. "A guide. A watcher. A reflection."

It tilted its head slightly, as if examining him.

"And you… are an anomaly."

Elliot tensed. "What do you mean?"

"You should not be here," the figure said simply. "And yet, you are."

It took a single step forward. The void beneath its feet rippled.

"The mask has accepted you. That is… unexpected."

Elliot frowned. "Accepted me for what?"

The figure paused.

Then, for the first time, it smiled.

"A choice."

The void trembled.

A door appeared behind the figure, etched with symbols Elliot had never seen before—yet somehow, he understood them. They pulsed, alive with meaning.

"Step through, and you will become something more."

Elliot's heart pounded. "And if I don't?"

The figure's smile didn't waver. "Then you will remain here. Forever."

Silence stretched between them.

Elliot looked at the door.

He had no idea what lay beyond it.

But wasn't that how this had started?

One choice. One step forward.

He exhaled.

Then—

He reached for the door.

And stepped through.

The moment Elliot stepped through the door, the void shattered.

A force ripped through him, like plunging into freezing water and being yanked in every direction at once. His vision blurred—flashes of color, of memories that weren't his, of voices whispering in languages he didn't understand.

Then—

He fell.

Gravity slammed into him, and he hit the ground hard, gasping.

Solid ground.

Elliot groaned, blinking against the sudden brightness. His body ached, his head spun, but—he was alive.

Slowly, he pushed himself up, taking in his surroundings.

He stood in a vast, open chamber. The air smelled of ancient stone and something… electric. The walls were carved with intricate symbols, glowing faintly with a soft, pulsating light. Massive pillars stretched to a ceiling so high it disappeared into shadows.

In the center of the room stood a pedestal.

And on it—

A book.

Bound in black leather, its cover bore no title. But the moment Elliot's eyes landed on it, his pulse jumped.

That book…

It called to him.

He took a hesitant step forward.

"Ah… So you're finally here."

The voice was deep, smooth—carrying an amused lilt.

Elliot whipped around.

A man leaned casually against one of the pillars, arms crossed. He looked about thirty, with dark, neatly combed hair, sharp features, and piercing golden eyes that practically glowed in the dim light.

His clothes were elegant yet simple—a long coat with silver embroidery, gloves that barely concealed the faint shimmer of magic beneath his skin.

But it was his aura that made Elliot's breath catch.

It was like standing near a storm.

Dangerous. Unpredictable. Unfathomably powerful.

The man's lips curved into a smirk.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it."

Elliot straightened, heart pounding. "Who are you?"

The man tilted his head slightly.

"Depends." His golden eyes gleamed. "Who do you think I am?"

Elliot clenched his jaw. "Someone who clearly knows more than I do."

The man chuckled.

"Smart. I like that." He pushed off the pillar and strolled toward the pedestal, glancing down at the book.

"You came for this, didn't you?"

Elliot hesitated. "I don't even know what this is."

The man tsked. "Then why did you step through the door?"

Elliot opened his mouth—then shut it.

Why had he?

Because he couldn't stay in that void forever? Because he trusted that somehow, this was the right path?

Because something deep inside him had known he had no other choice?

The man watched him closely.

"Good," he murmured, as if reading Elliot's thoughts. "Then you're ready."

Elliot narrowed his eyes. "Ready for what?"

The man smiled.

"To begin."

With a flick of his wrist, the book opened—its pages flipping rapidly before settling on a single, glowing line of text.

And as Elliot read it, his vision blurred.

A sharp pull yanked at his chest, as if something was being unlocked inside him—

Then—

Darkness.