The Antigonus family notebook lay open on Welch's desk like a gateway to forbidden knowledge. Its pages were filled with archaic symbols, strange diagrams, and text written in multiple languages—some of which Klein recognized from his historical studies, others that seemed to writhe and shift when he wasn't looking directly at them.
"Look at this passage," Welch said, his finger tracing a particularly elaborate diagram. "It describes a ritual for 'seeking knowledge from beyond the veil.' The Antigonus family apparently used this to gain insights into historical events that were otherwise lost to time."
Naya frowned, her skepticism evident. "Welch, this looks like medieval superstition. Surely you don't believe—"
"But what if it's real?" Welch interrupted, his eyes gleaming with an almost fevered intensity. "What if there are ways to access knowledge that conventional history can't provide? Think of the discoveries we could make, the papers we could publish!"
Klein studied the diagram more carefully. His modern education screamed that this was dangerous nonsense, but something deeper—perhaps the original Klein's intuition, or maybe just the oppressive atmosphere of the room—suggested otherwise. The symbols seemed familiar, as if he'd seen them in dreams he couldn't quite remember.
"What exactly does this ritual involve?" Klein asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.
Welch's excitement was palpable as he explained. The ritual required specific materials: four candles arranged in a precise pattern, a mirror placed at the center, and incantations spoken in what appeared to be an ancient language. The purpose was to "commune with the spirits of knowledge" and gain insights into historical mysteries.
"We have everything we need," Welch continued, gesturing to a collection of items he'd already gathered. "I've been preparing for days. All we need to do is follow the instructions exactly as they're written."
Naya looked increasingly uncomfortable. "This is madness, Welch. Even if such things were possible, don't you think there might be risks involved? These old texts often came with warnings for good reason."
But Welch was beyond listening to reason. His obsession with the notebook had clearly consumed him, and Klein could see that nothing would dissuade him from attempting the ritual. The question was whether Klein should try to stop him or participate to ensure nothing went catastrophically wrong.
As the afternoon wore on, Welch's preparations became more elaborate. He arranged the candles in a perfect square, placed an ornate hand mirror in the center, and began practicing the pronunciation of the ancient incantations. The words seemed to hang in the air longer than they should have, and Klein noticed that the temperature in the room had dropped noticeably.
"Are you sure about this?" Klein asked one final time, though he already knew the answer.
"Absolutely," Welch replied, his voice filled with conviction. "This is our chance to make history, Klein. To discover truths that have been hidden for centuries."
As evening approached and the crimson moon began to rise, Welch lit the candles. The flames flickered strangely, casting shadows that seemed to move independently of their sources. The mirror in the center of the arrangement began to reflect not the ceiling above, but something else—something that made Klein's skin crawl with an inexplicable sense of dread.
Naya had retreated to the far corner of the room, her face pale with fear. "Please, Welch, stop this. Something feels wrong."
But Welch had already begun the incantation, his voice growing stronger and more confident with each word. The ancient syllables seemed to resonate with something beyond the physical world, and Klein felt a pressure building in his head, as if something vast and alien was turning its attention toward their small gathering.
The mirror's surface began to ripple like water, and shapes started to form within its depths—shapes that definitely weren't reflections of anything in the room. Klein realized with growing horror that they had succeeded in contacting something, but it wasn't the benevolent "spirits of knowledge" that Welch had expected.
As the ritual reached its climax, Klein knew that their lives were about to change forever, and not necessarily for the better. The crimson moon seemed to pulse with malevolent energy, and the shadows in the room began to take on lives of their own.