Bang!
"Arghhh—!"
The sound of flesh crashing against bark echoed through the dense forest, followed by a dull thud as Raiyo's body slammed to the ground, limbs sprawled like a puppet with its strings cut.
He had opened his eyes without thinking. His breath was sharp, panicked, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest. His legs had moved before his mind could catch up, driven by instinct—the primal need to survive. And yet, after only a few frantic seconds, the race ended with his spine kissing the roots of a colossal tree.
"Ugh…"
He groaned, blinking the stars out of his eyes as he lay there, staring at the endless canopy above.
Then…
Silence.
No growls, no tremors, no distorted roars in the distance. Just the soft, whispering breeze brushing against his skin. The air was light… pure even. The heavy weight in his chest vanished. The aches, the bruises, the fatigue—gone.
"My wounds… they're gone."
Raiyo sat up slowly, almost reverently. His clothes were still torn, his hair disheveled, but his body… felt whole. He touched his shoulder where a deep cut had once throbbed. Nothing. Only smooth, unbroken skin.
"The lake…" he muttered to himself. "Did it… heal me?"
His gaze drifted to the towering tree in front of him. It was massive—its trunk alone wider than any house he'd ever seen, and it stretched upward into the clouds like a divine ladder to the heavens.
Without hesitation, Raiyo began to climb.
Every branch was sturdy, every foothold felt strangely placed just where he needed it. As if the tree wanted him to reach the top.
And when he did…
"…!"
His breath caught in his throat.
From atop the sacred tree, Raiyo's eyes witnessed a landscape so impossibly vast and beautiful, it defied all logic. The horizon stretched endlessly in every direction, bathed in sunlight that sparkled like molten gold. Rolling plains blanketed with emerald grass shimmered as the wind danced through them. Trees with crystalline leaves stood in clusters, their branches glittering like chandeliers.
Gentle hills were dotted with strange, otherworldly creatures—tall, elegant herbivores with translucent skin that shimmered in pastel colors. Winged deer. Three-eyed elk. Butterflies the size of eagles. None of them seemed to fear him. They moved with peace, grace… as if they belonged to a dream.
"This is…" he whispered, unable to contain the awe in his voice, "Paradise. The real Garden of Eden."
He turned his gaze to the south.
There, nestled at the heart of the plain, stood a building—no, a sanctuary —rising like a jewel amidst a sea of green. Its spires kissed the sky, and its stonework was elegant and old, like something plucked from a medieval fantasy. White marble, golden domes, and glass that shimmered with mana. It radiated warmth and majesty.
But then…
"…?"
Something shifted.
His eyes drifted north, and his blood ran cold.
A chill, primal and absolute, gripped his soul. His heart skipped a beat as his pupils widened.
That side of the world was wrong.
Far in the distance, the paradise gave way to a land of rot and shadow. A corruption that spread across the earth like an ink spill. Trees stood like titans, but they were dead—twisted, blackened things with crooked limbs that reached toward the sky as if screaming. The air there was dense, pulsing with violent energy. Raiyo could see them—monsters—ripping into each other, gnashing teeth, flesh torn, blood spilled like rain. Predators with hollow eyes, unending hunger.
It was chaos. An eternal battlefield.
"...This place…"
He swallowed.
"…It's both Heaven and Hell."
The world had split in two.
Light and darkness.
Harmony and carnage.
Raiyo climbed down, his hands trembling slightly. He glanced once more at the northern abyss… and turned south.
Toward the sanctuary.
The creatures in the plains didn't run from him. They watched him with curious eyes, calm and unafraid. He passed under arches of wildflowers taller than he was. Petals floated gently around him like feathers.
He walked.
One kilometer.
Then three.
Then six.
Ten.
Sweat beaded on his brow, but he never stopped. Not once did he feel the pain that should have come with such a trek. The sun shifted above him, yet his legs moved with renewed strength.
"I feel… stronger," he murmured. "Is it because I ran for six hours back then? Or…"
He paused, fingers twitching.
"…Is this place changing me?"
The sanctuary loomed ever larger. It was… colossal. Far grander than it appeared from the tree. Raiyo found himself dwarfed by its outer gates alone, which towered fifty meters high. Symbols carved into the white stone pulsed faintly with mana—ancient language he couldn't begin to understand.
He approached.
The gates didn't open on their own.
So, he knocked.
"Is anyone here?" he called out, voice echoing into the silence.
No answer.
He hesitated, heart racing.
His fingers wrapped around the heavy bronze handle. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled.
The door creaked open.
Craaaaack.
Light poured through the crack, blinding and warm.
Then—
"Amazing—!!"
His breath caught in his chest. His eyes widened, overwhelmed—not with fear, but awe.
This wasn't just a sanctuary.
It was a library—a temple of knowledge so vast, so impossibly intricate, it defied reality.
The grand hall stretched into the horizon like an illusion made real. Row after row of floating bookshelves towered over him, suspended in midair without support, spinning slowly like gentle constellations. Some shelves floated vertically. Others twisted and turned like spirals, stairways leading to nowhere and everywhere all at once. Stained glass windows cast rays of light in ever-shifting colors across the marble floor, which itself was carved with celestial patterns—stars, moons, orbiting runes that glowed faintly beneath his feet.
Above, the ceiling was no ordinary ceiling—it was a living tapestry of the cosmos. Galaxies turned slowly in the sky-dome, constellations rearranging themselves with every passing second. They weren't painted; they were real. A portal to the very fabric of the universe, as if the library existed between dimensions, halfway between the divine and the forgotten.
Books, scrolls, tablets, and relics were scattered across ornate tables and floating pedestals. And not just human texts. Raiyo saw tomes with covers made of dragonhide, glowing manuscripts written in unknown runes that shifted when stared at, and even artifacts that whispered faintly as he passed, calling to long-lost memories.
The air smelled of ancient paper, magic, and something older than time.
"I…" he breathed, unable to find the words. "What is this place…?"
Then it hit him: the echo.
His own voice came back not once, but a thousand times—distorted, layered, as if repeated by every book, every scroll, every whispering spirit of knowledge that resided here.
"You've entered the Archive of Eternity," a voice spoke.
Raiyo turned sharply.
There was no one there.
Yet the voice was warm, patient, ancient.
"Every thought ever recorded, every secret ever hidden, every truth buried beneath myth… lives here."
He took a step forward, heart pounding.
The floor beneath him responded—runes flared to life with each step, illuminating a path only he could walk.
"This library…" he murmured, "it's alive."
Indeed, it was.
A nearby book opened itself. Pages fluttered like wings before the cover slammed shut again and drifted away. Another shelf rotated lazily, offering him a tome that shimmered in soft blue mana, titled in a script he couldn't read—yet somehow understood.
"Origin of Duality."
He reached out instinctively, but the book pulled away, ascending toward the highest levels of the library, far beyond his reach.
Not yet, it seemed to say.
This place was testing him.
He looked up. There were floating islands above—miniature platforms with their own lights, trees, gardens, and scholars carved into statues. It was endless. A labyrinth of enlightenment designed not just to be read—but experienced.
"This isn't a place for humans…" he whispered. "This is…"
"A temple for the chosen," the voice answered gently. "And a prison for the forgotten."
Raiyo stiffened.
"Prison…?"
But before he could ask more, a soft hum began to fill the space. The runes beneath him began to spin, gently lifting his body from the ground. Not high—just a few inches—but it was enough to make him feel weightless. Mana danced across his skin, soaking into his bones. He felt his senses stretch, expand.
Suddenly, knowledge poured into him—not in words, but in visions.
He saw an angel falling from the heavens, wings scorched by divine betrayal.
He saw a demon king sobbing beside the corpse of a angel girl.
And in the middle of it all… he saw ..
« …. »
An entity
Neither demonic
Nor angelic
Alone.
Eyes glowing with both darkness and light.
Standing atop a battlefield, where angels and demons knelt,
« … »
Afraid
The visions vanished.
He gasped, clutching his chest.
The floor dimmed. The magic faded.
The library stilled.
Raiyo stood there in silence, shaken to his core.
"Who... is it?"
he asked aloud.
This time, no voice answered.
Only silence.
And yet, in that silence, the library seemed to watch him. To measure him. To wonder if he would rise… or fall.
To be continued…