Lexington, Massachusetts — Early Morning
Knox didn't return to the motel.
Instead, he drove Bella out past the sleeping town, along winding roads that bled into dense trees. He needed quiet. Somewhere to think. Somewhere the system couldn't speak over the hum of his own thoughts.
He parked near an overgrown trailhead, stepped out, and let the mist wrap around him like a second coat. The trees whispered, but not in words—more like warnings carried on ancient breath.
Knox leaned against Bella's hood, fingers brushing the dragonhide pouch that now held the sigil fragment.
The red glow had faded. But its pulse echoed in him still.
[Cluster Fragment: Sloth — Unstable, Active]
He didn't need the system to tell him what that meant. Whatever the Salem Pact was doing—it had already begun.
Later — Bella, Interior
Knox sat in the driver's seat, not moving, eyes closed. The system stirred, a soft vibration along the back of his mind.
[Active Quest: Sigil of Sloth]
Objective 1: Trace sigil to origin
Objective 2: Investigate cluster resonance anomaly in Salem County
Reward: Trait Unlock or Cluster Advance (Conditional)
He exhaled slowly. The name—Salem County—wasn't subtle.
A memory clawed its way forward.
Fifth Year, Hogwarts. History of Magic.
Professor Sinderstone—half-blood, half-mad—lecturing on North American magical fractures. He'd mentioned something in passing: "Seven witches disappeared during the Salem Trials. Not executed. Not exonerated. Vanished. A rumor whispered even among ghosts: they didn't die… they changed."
At the time, Knox had written it off as yet another ghost tale meant to keep young wizards curious.
Now he wasn't so sure.
He pulled out the notebook Moira had given him. The sketches of sigils stared back—familiar, not because he studied them, but because his body had worn them since his teen years.
The truth hung just out of reach, like smoke behind glass.
Not time for answers.
Time for action.
Salem County — Abandoned Farmstead
Knox apparated just beyond the property line of a long-abandoned homestead buried deep in the woods.
The magic here felt... wrong.
Familiar.
The wind didn't blow. The trees leaned inward as if listening. The farmhouse was in ruins, eaten by time and moss, but the foundation stones hummed with latent power.
A ritual had happened here. Or was happening again.
Knox walked slowly toward the collapsed porch, wand out, silent. No need for flash or flame. The wards here were old and quiet—but still deadly.
He traced a detection rune in the air.
It flared blue, then red.
His breath caught.
Blood magic.
He crouched by a shattered floorboard and swept aside the leaves.
There, carved into the beams with surgical precision, was a rune matching the Sloth fragment.
Not identical.
Amplified.
Someone had used the fragment as a blueprint—and they'd etched it into this place like it was a speaker meant to broadcast.
The system pulsed again.
[Cluster Environment Detected]
Sloth — Residual Magic Present
Area Stability: 41%
Ritual Stage: Latent/Activating
Knox muttered a curse. This wasn't just a clue—it was a staging ground.
And it was still live.
He stood and raised his wand—
A whisper behind him.
He turned fast, wand glowing—
But nothing was there.
Then—
Laughter.
Soft. Feminine. Fractured like glass grinding on glass.
He froze.
It didn't come from outside.
It came from inside the wards.
Then, a voice. Cold. Dry. Amused.
"Still chasing shadows, Threadbearer?"
Knox spun, heart thudding. "Who's there?"
No answer.
Just a sudden gust of wind, and the rune beneath his feet flared crimson.
[Environmental Warning: Magic Surge Incoming]
He leapt backward just as the rune exploded in a flare of arcane energy. Red lightning lanced upward, tearing through the air like a scream. Knox shielded his face, rolling behind a collapsed beam.
Silence returned.
But not peace.
He emerged, coughing, scanning the area.
Whoever—or whatever—that voice belonged to, they were watching him.
And they wanted him to know it.
Later — The Crossroad Bar, Boston
Back in his warded sanctum, Knox descended into the basement. It wasn't much—just stone, old runes, and a table made of moonwood etched with protective spells. Alfred had once joked it looked more like a crypt than a workspace.
Knox didn't disagree.
He laid the fragment down beside the counter-sigil Moira had given him. Both pulsed with faint, unnatural energy.
The system reappeared—softly, like it, too, was uneasy.
[Cluster Fragment Identified]
Demonic Cluster — Sloth
Ritual Intensity: 61%
Sync Potential: Forbidden
Caution: Fragment may act as a beacon
Knox frowned.
Beacon?
Was it calling the witches?
Or something worse?
He began cross-referencing runes from the fragment with the ones on his own body—just as an experiment. But the results were unsettling.
The patterns weren't just similar.
They were mirrored.
One fragment. Seven sigils.
Seven witches.
Seven tattoos. Fourteen more somewhere out there?
He stepped back, breath catching.
No. That was a coincidence. A design echo. Nothing more.
Still… he couldn't shake the feeling that every sigil on his skin had been waiting for this.
Moira's Safehouse — Midnight
Knox didn't knock.
Moira opened the door before he reached it.
"You felt it," she said. Not a question.
He nodded.
Moira gestured him inside. The wards on her place were new—freshly burned into the doorframe, glowing with borrowed power.
She looked tired. There were shadows under her eyes that hadn't been there before.
"I pulled a thread from the MACUSA outpost's archive," she said, pushing a folder toward him. "A failed mission report from 1893. A team of enforcers went after a rogue coven. Seven women. Vanished without a trace."
Knox opened the folder.
Sketches. Runes. Burned corpses. All familiar.
"This wasn't rogue magic," he muttered. "It was planned."
"They're building something," Moira said. "The cluster fragments—they're not just power sources. They're ingredients."
Knox's jaw tightened.
"And I'm the vessel," he muttered. Then shook his head. "No. I don't know that. Not yet."
Moira eyed him carefully. "You okay?"
Knox didn't answer right away. Just stood, lost in the weight of a truth he wasn't ready to name.
Then, quietly: "I need to go to Salem. The real Salem. There's something buried there."
Moira touched the ward on her arm. "Then don't go alone."
He gave her a sad smile. "You're already helping. More than I have a right to ask."
She stepped closer, voice low. "Then promise me one thing."
Knox looked at her.
"Don't get yourself killed over a past you don't understand."
Knox nodded. "Deal."
He turned to leave.
The system pulsed again, just as he vanished into the shadows.
[Quest Update: Sigil of Sloth]
Objective 2 Complete
Objective 3 Unlocked: Uncover the Salem Ritual Site
New Subquest Unlocked: "The Pact's Origin"
Knox didn't see the update.
He was already gone.