The Nature of Ater Veritas II

The moment Kael heard the word "city," he stopped involuntarily. For a brief second, his feet felt glued to the stone floor. A familiar fear stretched taut within him, like a fine wire. His pupils widened slightly, and his muscles subtly shifted into a defensive stance.

This wasn't just a simple word to him.

Not even a full day had passed. He was still being hunted. A fugitive. A shadow matched to the name "Artemus," broadcast with a red notice. And now... the city? Crowds? People?

A subtle tension ran through his veins.

Just then, Althar turned his head slightly, as if he had read Kael's anxiety in his eyes. Before Kael could say anything, Althar smiled gently.

"Don't worry," he said, in a soft but reassuring tone. "No one will suspect a thing as long as you're with me."

Kael looked at him in surprise. Althar had already opened the door to his room and stepped inside. A few seconds of silence followed, and then Althar returned—holding a dark, visor-capped hat.

"If you wear this, you'll draw less attention," he said. "Your clothes are plain enough. As long as you stay out of sight, no one will question you."

Kael hesitated for a moment. He took the hat in his hand, glancing at the man out of the corner of his eye. He had no choice but to trust this old, experienced officer.

"Alright," he said quietly, and placed the hat on his head.

They began walking down the corridors together. The silence between them stretched as they moved forward. As Althar approached the iron door ahead, a question began turning over and over in Kael's mind. A name he didn't understand, but which everyone mentioned with a deep, visceral reaction...

Artemus.

When Kael first heard the name, it was just a shadow he was running from. But now... its echo was growing louder by the minute.

He turned to Althar.

"This... Twilight Artemus," he said hesitantly. "Who exactly is he? And why do people hate him so much?"

Althar's stride slowed immediately. His steps were still measured, but it felt as though a heavy weight had settled on his back. Kael couldn't see his face, but the gravity spreading from the man's shoulders seemed to fill the air like a shadow. Even the stone walls looked a bit duller in that moment.

Silence... heavy and oppressive.

Then Althar spoke. His voice was much deeper and more deliberate than his usual aged tone.

"Artemus's true identity is unknown," he said. "But his name... especially in the old cities and settlements outside the center... is passed along in whispers. It's never spoken fully. Always in fragments, always in half-sentences."

Kael listened intently. He was trying to understand the fear behind the name he now carried. But Althar's words raised more questions than they answered.

"People aren't sure if he's a man, a shadow... or the embodiment of some ancient curse," Althar continued. "But everyone believes something about him. That's why, when 'Twilight Artemus' is mentioned, no one imagines a face. Instead, there's a moment... a feeling... a sense of dread."

Kael's face tensed slightly. This description sounded less like a person and more like a phenomenon. Like a calamity. Like the very embodiment of misfortune.

Althar stopped. Tilting his head slightly, he went on:

"They speak of his cruelty. But not ordinary cruelty. It's said that Artemus never forgets the dead. He keeps their names, their sins, their pain... like a ledger. Somewhere, somehow. Maybe in his own mind. Maybe in an actual book. But no suffering escapes his gaze."

"And that's why," Althar continued, without turning to Kael, eyes fixed at the end of the corridor, "those who encounter him often forget even their own names. He instills a fear so deep, so heavy... that people lose their sense of self."

A chill passed through Kael. In his mind, for a moment, he envisioned a silhouette emerging from gray mist—neither man nor creature, but a step born of utter silence. Then whispers…

Althar walked on a bit further.

"Religious and political authorities," he said, "avoid speaking about him. Even acknowledging his existence often leads to questions about the system itself. Because Artemus's presence... is like a void. A crack that the system can't explain. And no authority likes cracks."

Kael flinched.

"Then..." he whispered, "why is he called Twilight?"

Althar paused slightly. When he answered, his voice was lower, like he was sharing a secret.

"Because..." he said, "the time he appears... is that unsettling in-between. When it's neither day nor night. When the light fades but darkness hasn't yet begun. That gray hour. That's when he shows up."

Kael's eyes widened.

"The gray hour..."

"Yes," Althar replied. "Most people who've seen him say the surroundings turn gray for a moment. No color remains, no sound. That moment... is only a transition. And within that transition... Artemus appears."

A short silence followed.

"Even children know his name," said Althar, a hint of sorrow in his voice. "In rural areas, when kids misbehave, adults say, 'Stop, or Artemus will come.' And silence falls instantly. That name has become a threat. Even if they don't know who he really is... they know the feeling. That gray moment."

Kael swallowed. A cold sensation trickled down his spine.

"His name doesn't appear in military bases. But you'll find it in documents," Althar said. "In some reports, just two letters are written in the corner: T.A. No explanation, no detail. But those who know... know."

Kael suddenly stopped. His voice held a strange blend of anger and confusion.

"But he's just a killer," he said. "Why is everyone so afraid of him? Why doesn't anyone fight back? He's a person! Why do millions run from him? If they united... couldn't they stop him?"

Althar turned and looked at Kael. His eyes were steady and weary, like a full moon.

"This... goes deeper than you think," he said. "Fear of a person doesn't come from what they do... but from what they represent. Artemus... isn't a threat. He's a mirror. He reflects the darkness within everyone. And people... would rather run than face their own darkness. Because the real fear isn't about what he is... it's the possibility that he'll make you face who you are."

Kael tried to absorb Althar's words in silence. The name Artemus had been told like a legend, but the darkness within the tale wasn't just myth. Kael could feel it. There was an inexplicable connection; a closeness... like the shadow of fate descending upon him.

He muttered almost to himself:

"But… I feel it too. I'm not alone in this thought. People... give birth to more because they're afraid. As fear grows, even unreal things begin to feel real."

Althar didn't turn to him, but the lines on his face deepened. Kael continued:

"And this isn't something an ordinary killer would do. He seems to have a purpose. No one knows what it is, but... there's a sense. Maybe that idea... is more important to him than people's lives. More valuable. A belief... an obsession... or maybe a truth."

The words hung in the air. The more they spoke, the more questions emerged—answers only deepened the silence.

Without saying anything, Althar moved forward. When the conversation ended, it felt as if the darkness in the air had grown heavier. Words like these didn't just burden the mind—they weighed on the soul.

They arrived silently in front of a door. At the end of a narrow stone corridor, so plain it could almost be overlooked. The wooden frame was faded, the metal knocker rusty. Yet Kael could feel something behind the door. Something that tickled the skin, but left cold sweat behind.

Althar stopped there. He turned to Kael briefly. There was a weary but accepting expression in his eyes.

"When you came here with Liora, fleeing... this was the door you passed through, wasn't it?"

Kael couldn't answer. He remembered the moment. White light… silence… then the emptiness and dizziness that followed. A moment where reality bent. An experience beyond words.

Althar smiled, but there was sorrow in his smile.

"I hope you get used to this," he said. "Because from now on... these kinds of transitions will become ordinary for you. Worlds that don't resemble each other, fractures in time, shadows of the past... they'll all be laid out in your path. And this is just the beginning."

Then he reached for the knocker. Slowly pushed the door open.

A white, flickering light spilled out from within. Dim at first, then strengthening in waves. It was as if the fabric of reality had loosened in an instant. The stone walls, the cracks around the door… all faded in that light.

Kael instinctively stepped back. The light didn't burn his eyes, but looking at it was difficult. It was like a void without depth; not light, but "nothingness" flowing outward. Though it was white, it contained no color. It held neither warmth nor cold. It simply... was.

Althar stepped inside without blinking. His long coat fluttered slightly. As the light swallowed his body, only a shadowy outline remained. Then that too faded.

Kael stood alone on the threshold. He swallowed hard.

Took a deep breath. Then placed one foot over the threshold. As the light touched his skin, goosebumps erupted. His clothes seemed lighter. Even the thoughts in his mind blurred.

"Come on now…" came Althar's voice from within. But the voice echoed. It came not from a single point, but from everywhere.

Kael closed his eyes. And stepped across the threshold.