Ep 161. I’ve Been Here Before. (7)
“Iing.”
Snap!
Immediately following the sound of the speaker’s snapping fingers, the Reaper’s bais freedom as he stumbled backwards to their side.
After rising to his feet to move away from the dragonlord’s trajectory, Felicir sighed in relief, smirking towards the speaker thereafter.
“Well now, that was close.”
“…Reaper.”
Aowledging the possessed academic’s identity without a single hint, the speaker’s studious gaze sed Felicir’s newly acquired body from head to toe.
“How intriguing. I oft wondered if this day would e.”
“…Good to see you too, Zenon.”
Despite the Reaper’s sarcastic reply, the deity showed no visible rea.
He instead fixed his gaze onto the frozen dragonlord – and the two beyond the broken doorway of his Archive.
He then made a brief bow before the dragon, proceeding to hold up a hand in a guarding manner.
“My apologies for the interruption, Serenis. I’m afraid I must ask you to hold your hand within the Archive.”
When he snapped his fingers , Serenis regained her momentum, although her cws cshed against a seemingly invisible wall of nothing before her. She pushed off the hard surfad nded some distance behind, once again able to move her body to take in the surroundings.
But the dragonlord remained on one knee as how she’d nded. Her eyes emptily drifted from side to side, taking in the Archive’s appearance.
Befitting its he Archive was filled with rows of bookshelves, with the occasional antiques that seemed to decorate the stretg hallways. Although the space between each shelf was much te, the immediate viity was quite simir to that of a library besides its spacious setup.
However, they were not indoors – they were on an endlessly stretg pin. Serenis could her see nor sehe other end of this supposed Archive beyond the speaker.
When she looked upwards, there were no suns or moons or stars, or even a single dle to provide any sembnce of light – ahe sky ainted pletely in white. The area erfectly illuminated as if there was some invisble sun above them, to which there was none.
Beh them was not a typical floor made of wood or stone – or even soil, for that matter. As far as Serenis could tell, they were standing on nothing.
The grouh their feet was pletely transparent. And further below the transparent floor, the dragonlord could make out puffs of white clouds, navigating their way through the blue, open skies.
To the oblivious, the entire space may have been seen as nothing more than an intricate illusion: a pyground that the Twelve had toyed with of their own accord. In fact, that’s exactly whas was going through Light’s head as she took in their surroundings.
However, the dragonlord khat this was natural for where they stood.
This pce has always been this way.
“Serenis!”
When Serenis failed to rise back to her feet, Light rushed to her side to che the dragonlord. The half lightly shook the dragon in an attempt to awake them.
As, there was o shake anyone awake.
Serenis erfectly awake as is; she was merely dazed by the sight of the surrounding area.
“…Serenis? Are you okay?”
“I’ve been here before.”
“Huh? What??”
“I’ve…been here before.”
Light’s hands slipped away from Serenis’ shoulders as the dragonlord rose to her feet. However, her expression tio remain dazed, as if she’d fotten what she’d been doing mere moments ago.
Her eyes were fixed on the boundless white sky. Her feet felt heavier than they ever had since her awakening, and her entire body felt drained and exhausted. Despite Light’s worried voice, the world had fallen to a deathly silence for the dragonlord.
All halluations: nothing was actually happening, nor were the deities doing anything at all. The Reaper tio stand idly behind the Archive’s resident, while the resident himself seemingly waited for Serenis to return to her senses.
Ever since Aymeia had described the Archive as a realm beyond their own, Serenis had drawn a vague guess of what this supposed ‘Archive’ may be.
A guess that she’d wished would prove itself wrong and untrue.
“…”
As the sileretched on, Zenon’s eyes likewise closed in brief refle. He quietly called out to the dragonlord, looking t her back.
“Serenis. Your brethren are no longer here.”
“…”
“This is no lohe pce you remember it to be. This is the Archive.”
Finally, the dragonlord’s skyward gaze lowered itself to meet the deity’s.
“…So you know what it was, then.”
“I do.”
Light and Aymeia stared at the two in fusion – in fact, even the Reaper seemed fused. No one else seemed to uand what the two were referring to.
But clearly, it was important – enough to make the dragonlord fet that she’d been chasing the Reaper for a few minutes.
And, as much as Light wao run up to her professor and sp him awake, the act first required the Reaper to be dealt with: a task that she couldn’t possibly plete on her own.
With an apologetic expression, the half then pulled on the dragonlord’s sleeve.
“Sorry, but…what’s…going on? What are you talking about?”
“...”
This time, Serenis did turn her eyes to meet Light’s. But no answer came out of her.
Instead, it was Zenon who’d fill the silence.
“This isn’t her first visit here. In the distant past, she’d frequehis location – and it’d been called differently at the time.”
Both Serenis and Light turo face the speakiy. One was evidently surprised at their knowledge, and somewhat curious to see just how much the deity seemed to know; the other simply wished to hear more.
“What does that evehough? What was it before?”
“In the previous era – a time before the Twelve – the Archive served as home to a single divinity known as the First. This was their abode.”
“…And Serenis used to e here a lot?”
“Ihe Archive also served as the birthpce of all demonlords.”
“Serenis was born here?!”
As Zenon filled the half with a piece of a history, Serenis remained silent throughout. Even as the speaker tinued on, she didn’t bother to interrupt or refute a single word of what was being said.
“That’s correct. Or, as Serenis would call it…”
The deity raised his gaze to lock eyes with the dragonlord’s. He didn’t seem particurly apologetic, but a pause heless seemed appropriate to give room for interruption.
When there was none, he fihe dialogue, just as indifferent as before.
“…The world’s summit.”
