Back when he died in his world, in the hands of that mysterious woman, the very last thing he saw wasn’t her face... Just the hilt of a knife—thrust deep into his chest.
That image refused to leave him.
The hilt... as dark as polished obsidian, and at its base... a gem. Not just any gem, but one that shimred with the colours of the entire cosmos. Deep, bottomless black. Glimrs of starlight blue. The very shape of galaxies spinning in silence.
And now, in the present, as he stood frozen in front of the picture in the book, he saw it again—clearer this ti.
The weapon.
The one that had pierced his heart.
Paraclythion.
A curved blade that seed to breathe with celestial energy. Its steel shimred in hues of deep sapphire and violet, as if every star in the night sky had been gathered and forged into this single piece of divine steel. Glowing blue lines ran along its edge—pulses, veins, breathing runes that moved subtly, alive in their own right.
Ancient markings, unfamiliar yet oddly magnetic, flowed across the blade’s surface like fireflies caught in an eternal dance—each one etched in a forgotten language, older than myths, older than mory.
And the hilt... again, obsidian black. Twisting in a spiral design that almost made it feel alive—like the grip of a serpent. At its base rested that sa gem. The gem that mirrored the universe. Swirling galaxies, dancing stars. [Imgincmt]
"It is an ancient artifact," Valra said quietly, standing beside him now, holding the book. Her voice was softer than usual, more serious, like she was speaking about sothing sacred.
"Forged by the ancient gods themselves... shaped by Fate—the very force that governs all destinies. It wasn’t made for killing. It was made to connect. To link this world... to the Another Universe."
Leo turned slowly, brows furrowed with disbelief and curiosity. "Another universe...?" he repeated. "You an... you’re saying there might actually be another world—just like this one?"
Valra gave a faint shrug, but her face remained thoughtful.
"We don’t know for sure. No one does. So far, we’ve never encountered any beings from that other side... if it even exists."
"In the Age of Myths, the idea of a multi-universe was nothing more than dreamstuff—mad scholars scribbling wild theories. So gods believed in it. Others laughed. But even this artifact..." she paused, nodding at the weapon.
"So say it’s a fabrication. A sacred lie. A symbol carved into mory by divine propaganda—to inspire fear and obedience. No one’s ever found it. Not in ruins. Not in temples. Not even fragnts or replicas of its existence."
She folded her arms and frowned, voice lowering.
"Many think it’s just a story."
Leo stared at the blade in the picture, his breath caught sowhere between awe and dread.
A story.
And yet... he had felt that blade. He had died by it.
"Myth..." he whispered, barely audible, eyes still locked on the weapon. "Yeah... right."
If this was the sa weapon that had been buried in his chest, then it wasn’t just a myth. It was proof. He wasn’t from here.
That woman—the unknown killer—had used this artifact not just to stab him... but to send him here.
But why?
Why send him to this world?
What purpose did it serve to destroy his body... only to let his soul awaken here?
What did she want?
To Steal?
Like just stealing?
The questions multiplied like a swarm of bees in his head, buzzing, loud, impossible to swat away.
It didn’t make sense.
If this artifact could connect to another universe... why kill him just to steal?
Couldn’t she have used it herself?... Or was there sothing else he didn’t know?
Sothing about him?
"Hey..." Valra’s voice broke through the fog in his head. She had gone back to browsing the bookshelf, pulling out old, worn tos with spines cracked by age. "These books are pretty rare. I think you’d find so of them interesting."
Even as she casually flipped through a thick one, Leo remained distant, his mind stuck to the artifact.
He shook his head, this wasn’t the reason he ca, he needed to focus.
"Valra..." he called, voice a little hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he should. "Do you... happen to know where Dracula lives?"
Valra froze mid-reach, her hand hovering over a leather-bound book. Slowly, she turned to him, her expression hardening slightly.
"Dracula?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You an... that vampire? Why would you want to know that?"
Leo blinked slowly, keeping his voice casual, "Well... we just beca friends with Ophis, right? I figured... I might as well learn a little about vampires."
Valra let out a breath through her nose and shook her head quickly, stepping toward him.
"We are not friends with her, Leo. You’d better not let that blood-sucking monster into your house. She might look sweet, even harmless, but trust when I say—she could be older than my father... And for her kind... people like us are just walking bloodbags.
Especially soone like you—she tasted your blood and they’ll never forget it."
Leo scratched the back of his head awkwardly and laughed under his breath.
Too late for that now, wasn’t it?
"I didn’t an it like that. I’m just... curious, you know? It’s my first ti eting actual vampires. I wanted to know more."
Valra exhaled, and her stance relaxed. She seed to believe him—partly, at least.
"Oh... if that’s all, then fine." She shrugged. "Makes sense, I guess. Creatures like them are rare... And dangerous."
Still, as she turned away, she gave him a sideways glance—one filled with quiet suspicion.
"Vampires... they’re old. Real old. Most of them live in isolation, far away from the eyes of the Mage Association. Since the Mages took over, vampires can’t just go out and hunt like they used to.
Laws were put in place. So they hide. Stay in the shadows. Dark castles, ruined forests, forgotten manors tucked between mountains. As for Dracula himself... no one’s sure where he lives. He moves. Keeps himself hidden. Always alone."
She bent down to pick up a wooden box that had bumped into her foot.
Leo narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. ’Dark places... castles... ruins. sigh... I guess I’ll have to start searching on my own,’ he thought, his heart sinking a little. He had hoped for a lead.
Sothing directly to the house.
But at least he had sothing now.... A place to start.
As Valra opened the box, she blinked in surprise. "Oh? Looks like my father still has these..."
Inside, nestled in old cloth and dust, were a collection of orange-hued runic stones, glowing faintly like embers on the verge of awakening.
Leo leaned closer, curiosity sparked again. "What are those?"
"Explosive stones," she said, almost casually, lifting one like it was just a pebble. "They were used a lot in the war days. Mages would enchant them, toss them like bombs. But these... they’re not for battle. These are more... compact. Subtle."
She tilted her head, holding one up to the light. "Strange... why would my father leave these here? Under his favourite library? Was he planning to burn it all down?"
"Explosives?" Leo echoed, eyebrows raised. His gaze sharpened. "How do they work?"
Valra looked over at him, grinning slyly now as she noticed the gleam of genuine interest in his eyes.
"You want to know?" she said, her voice lifting with excitent. "Alright then. I’ll show you!"
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