"There's no way you're from another world! I want secrets, not lies! Make it at least believable! I can't believe it—after ignoring me all this time, now I'm stuck talking to some kid spouting fairy tales," Inkbound complained, her voice sharp with annoyance.
Baldwin sighed, resting his elbow on the table. "Well, if you think that way, I can't change your mind. I'm a chill guy, after all." He looked at the book, voice calm. "But tell me something—what's the guarantee that secrets are always true? That all of them are real truths?"
Inkbound paused, flustered. "That's… that's true. Not all secrets are factual, but still! That doesn't mean you get to feed me lies!"
Baldwin rubbed his forehead, frowning. "Is there any other way to use you?"
"There is another way… but it's very difficult. I doubt you could—"
Before Inkbound could finish, Baldwin stood up abruptly from the table.
"Hey! Let me finish! It's rude to walk away in the middle of a conversation!" Inkbound snapped.
But Baldwin ignored her and turned to Athan instead. "Yo, Athan. What're you reading?"
Athan glanced up lazily. "Ah, don't ask. Some nonsense about magical elements and light theory. Total garbage."
"That's not garbage! People have died because of that knowledge! Tell him, tell him!" Inkbound shouted in Baldwin's mind. Still, he ignored her.
"So, how's the whole 'talking book' thing working out? Any actual use?" Athan asked.
"Nope. Just the most useless book I've ever opened," Baldwin replied, his tone deadpan, his face disappointed.
"What did you just say to me, brat!? How dare you!" Inkbound shrieked inside his head, but Baldwin remained unfazed.
"Alright, total waste. Let's go find some actual useful stuff—history, maybe something about this world," Athan said.
"Yeah, let's return this junk to the shelf. After all, this is just a basic manor, nothing fancy," Baldwin added, heading for the bookshelf.
"Wait! Let me say something—just once!" Inkbound pleaded.
"Why should I?" Baldwin muttered, pausing mid-step. "Didn't you just say I can't use you? That makes you useless to me."
He raised the book, about to slide it back into its spot. Then, he hesitated.
"Fine. Say it. What do you want?"
"Let's form a contract," Inkbound said quickly. "We become partners. You pursue your goal—and I'll pursue mine."
Baldwin tilted his head. "Sounds alright, but I don't have time to waste. I need to hurry back to my world and stop a man-made pandemic."
Inkbound fell silent for a moment, then gave a sigh.
"You don't like that idea?" Baldwin asked. "Then tell me—what's your goal?"
"I want to live… like I did before," Inkbound said, her voice quieter now.
Baldwin stared at the cover of the book. "Everyone has to meet their end eventually. Isn't that better for you? At least you ended while living, not dying slowly like the rest of us."
"This… this isn't living," she replied. "It's a curse."
Baldwin held the book in his right hand and began tidying the table with his left. Then he said softly, "I get it. Everyone deserves to live—even the most hated ones. If someone's alive, they still have a chance to change. So yeah… I'll help you. I'll respect your goal. Tell me how to make the contract."
Inkbound hesitated before answering. "You have to release your mana into the center of the book."
"I don't use magic," Baldwin said, eyes narrowing. "How about demon art—Manak?"
"I don't know… but you can try," Inkbound replied.
Baldwin's fingers lit up with a red glow as energy surged through them. A single drop of glowing liquid fell into the center of the book—not blood, but pure Manak in liquid form. For mages, creating liquid mana could take years. Only the most gifted could achieve it. But Manak… that was different.
In all the world, only Baldwin possessed it.
Just like mana's liquid form was stronger than its normal form—Manak in its liquid form was another realm entirely.
Inkbound was stunned. "Huh… this is something entirely different. But why is it so faint? What do you call it?"
"Manak," Baldwin answered calmly.
"It's weaker than mana liquid," Inkbound observed, "but it'll do. With it, our contract is complete."
There was a moment of silence after Inkbound's comment.
Baldwin finally broke it with a long sigh.
"So, can you tell me where I can find some basic history in this library?" he asked.
"No, I don't know," Inkbound replied bluntly.
Hearing that, Baldwin casually turned to place the book back on the shelf.
"What are you doing?!" Inkbound snapped.
"Oh, nothing much," Baldwin said coolly. "Just putting this useless book back where it belongs."
Athan walked up beside him. "So, you're actually putting it back?" he asked.
Baldwin shrugged. "I mean… it feels useless. Kind of."
"Alright then," Athan said with a chuckle. "Let's put this old thing away. But wait—how are we gonna take it outside? Isn't that against the rules?"
"Yeah," Baldwin replied. "Library rules say no books leave the premises. Oh well. We'll ask Lee about taking this junk outside."
"Hey! I'm not junk! Or useless!" Inkbound yelled in his mind.
"Oh, that's a great idea," Athan said. "Let's head toward the entrance area. We might find something useful there."
Baldwin nodded, then looked down at the book in his hand.
"You're so old, I feel bad carrying you. What if you crumble into dust in my hands?"
"Don't worry about me!" Inkbound snapped—and suddenly, the book began to glow with a faint, pulsating red light.
Athan, already walking ahead, turned back sharply. "What the—? Why is it glowing? Is it gonna explode? We're so dead if that book gets destroyed!"
But the light didn't explode. Instead, the book's cover began to shift. The upper half turned a dark crimson, while the lower half faded into a brighter red. The center was stark white at first—blank, empty—but slowly, intricate designs formed, like a magical crest etched directly into the binding.
Athan stared in disbelief. "What… the hell is that?"
Baldwin didn't answer. He just smirked and said, "Let's go, Athan. Time to see what this 'old junk' can really do."
After reaching the exit area, Baldwin and Athan finally stumbled upon a few books of value. But they offered no solution. The pressing issue—understanding the current state of world affairs—remained unanswered. These books were simply too old; the era they needed insight into had only just begun.
With quiet frustration, they boarded the lift, rising from the depths of the underground library back into the academy above.
But the moment they stepped out—
All three of them froze.
The sky was cloaked in an eerie gloom, so dark it resembled night, yet the sun had not set. A heavy stillness hung in the air.
Baldwin narrowed his eyes, heart tightening. He had seen this before… the same ominous darkness that once shrouded the city when the Labyrinth appeared.
And then—
Bing!
A sudden blast echoed across the horizon. The world shook.
An explosion.