“It’s time,” Noah declared, thrusting the key into the air as he craned his neck to look up the glowing blue map of the Citadel above him. “Wake up, Heart.”

It had only been a few minutes since he’d gotten out of the mirror. The very moment he’d returned to the real world, Noah had darted over to find the Devourer and had it bring him back to the Heart Room so he could finally get the answers he was looking for.

He was done waiting.

Noah’s heart pounded in his chest as the Heart seemed to boot up. It seemed to be processing his declaration. He really hoped that it didn’t remember that he hadn’t had the key the last time they’d spoken.

It’s going to be really annoying if I have to go find that dead dude’s robe and plop it on top of my head or something to convince this thing that I’m him.

A ripple of blue light pulsed through the room.

Prayer, who was cowering at the back of the platform, flinched. Noah had given it a bit of a scare when he’d burst back out of the mirror realm. It still hadn’t quite recovered. Either that or it was still terrified that he or the Devourer would eat it.

A loud hum filled the room.

“Lead Researcher identifier recognized,” the Heart buzzed. “Welcome to the Heart Room, Researcher.”

A huge grin split Noah’s lips. “Are there any restrictions on my queries?”

“No. There are no restrictions on your level of access,” the Heart replied. “Though the grid has suffered extensive damage. A large portion of my function is currently restricted. It is recommended that the imbuements be repaired before any major operations are set in motion.”

Finally.

“Damn straight,” Noah said. “I’m your father now. About fucking time. Shit, where do I even start? Tell me where—”

“Access name set.”

Noah froze mid-word. “Wait. Hold on. I didn’t mean—”

“Primary Researcher is now set as Your Father.”

“No,” Noah said. “That is not what I meant. Don’t use that. Goddamn it. I didn’t mean—”

“Would you like me to utilize a nickname?” the Heart Room queried.

Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sure. Fine. Whatever. You can set that to—”

“I will now address Your Father under the shortened naming conventions. Welcome to the Heart Room, Father. How may I serve you?”

Noah’s eye twitched. Out of every possible name that the Heart possibly could have chosen for him, he was pretty sure that was literally the worst one. “Change my name.”

“Changing a Primary Researcher name will require confirmation by another Primary Researcher to avoid repeating Occurrence 74.”

Noah drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Occurrence 74?”

“Occurrence 74,” The Heart repeated. “In which a researcher, whose name has been purged from Access Point 1, murdered another one and changed his name in attempt to frame him for Occurrence 73. He was discovered by Lead Researcher, who ordered the establishment of this rule and had him put to death.”

Noah stared at the Heart for a long second. “You know what? Forget it. Call me what you want to. I want information on the ways out of the Citadel. All of them.”

“Query accepted,” the Heart said. “There are 3 recorded ways to enter or exit the Citadel. The primary method of access is the Gate. However, due to extensive damage to the grid, I am unable to report on its status. Please repair the grid in order to—”

“Forget the Gate,” Noah said. “What are the other two?”

“Query accepted. The other two methods of access are restricted knowledge. Please ensure there are no potential leaks currently present within the Heart Room before proceeding.”

Noah sent a sidelong glance at Prayer. “It’s fine. Speak.”

“The first of the two methods is the Labyrinthian Network. There are a number of access points to the maze that surrounds the Citadel that exist throughout Obsidia. These points shift based on the flow of magic and do not always lead to the same locations. The high magical concentration around them tends to draw large numbers of monsters, causing these access points to be excessively dangerous. Furthermore, a number of these points lead directly to rooms with no access points. The Great Library holds records of five hundred and eighty four individuals who have found access to the Labyrinth surrounding the citadel with this method. Three of them have made it to the doors. None have survived.”

Noah grimaced. So that was how Sebastian had gotten here. The man had found an access point that randomly appeared somewhere and basically stumbled right into the maze. He hadn’t evne realized that he was far from the first to do it — or, in all likelihood, the last to die trying. That was unfortunate.

“Is there a way to predict where these access points will appear or control their locations?” Noah asked.

“No,” the Heart replied. “They are caused by instability in the fabric of magic surrounding the Citadel. There is no method to control their location or direction. This access method is not recommended for any researcher to utilize due to its high mortality rate.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Right,” Noah said. That was as way out. He wouldn’t dismiss it on the spot, but the Heart had mentioned a third option. An entirely unreelable exit really didn’t seem that appealing to him unless there was no other choice. “What’s the other one?”

The Heart hesitated.

“This method is in the restricted section of the Great Library. Are you certain you wish to hear it? There may be consequences. The Lead Researcher has warned against accessing this database.”

“Access it,” Noah said.

“Query accepted,” the Heart said. “The final method to passing in and out of the Citadel is to utilize the Lead Researcher’s Passage.”

“The Lead Researcher’s Passage?” Noah asked, narrowing his eyes. “What is that? Where can I find it?”

“It is present within the Heart Room,” the Heart replied. “However, this method has only been successfully utilized by the Lead Researcher. The Passage is unsafe to all who do not wield the Lead Researcher’s power. A Level Black warning has been placed upon accessing it.”

That doesn’t sound good. The hell is a Level Black warning?

“Why?” Noah asked. “What’s the problem?”

“Would you like to review the Level Black warning? There is a pre-recorded message saved in the Great library.”

“Yes,” Noah said with a nod.

The blue cube shimmered. Light pulsed within it for several seconds as if it were loading something.

“…no. Not now.” female voice rolled through the air, warped slightly by a staticky buzz. “It’s far too late for that.”

There was a short pause. Then the voice started again, growing louder as if somebody had turned back to a mic they’d been facing away from.

“I am—” The recording cut out. There was a hiss and a pop. Then it started back up as if it had never stopped. “This is a Level Black warning. I place it in hopes that any that come after me are wise enough to refrain from repeating the same mistakes that I did. Do not attempt to utilize the Passage. Do not attempt to harness the Beyond any further. It will only end in another tragedy. I—”

The woman’s voice cut out again. When it returned, the hissing buzz swallowing her words had grown louder.

“…we have already done enough damage. But, should you be foolish enough to ignore the warning, I have instructed the Heart to save all of our research within the Great Library, under the highest level of restriction. If you are to make a mistake… do not repeat mine. The Citadel cannot take another disaster.”

The buzz vanished and the woman’s voice went silent.

Did she say the Beyond? This has something to do with the white void?

From the looks of things, it was a bit too late to avoid another disaster. But if this had something to do with the Beyond, then there was a very good chance that this was the exit he needed.

Noah did vividly recall the Devourer being very intent on him not looking further into this. He was also rather bad at following rules.

“What was this research you just mentioned?” Noah asked. “Tell me what you know.”

“Query accepted,” the Heart said. “There is an entry in the Great Library tied to this warning. Would you like me to read the entire entry?”

“Yes,” Noah said, excitement mixing with trepidation.

Another crackle filled the air.

“…I am updating the Great Library on our findings with regard to the Citadel’s primary objective.” The same woman’s voice returned, this time clearer than it had been the last time. It sounded younger as well, as if she had recorded this several years before the previous one that Noah had heard. “Against all understanding, we have succeeded in harnessing the Beyond.”

Noah’s thoughts drifted to the ruins of the citadel.

Something tells me she might have been a bit optimistic about that.

“The Beyond,” the woman continued, “is anti-existence. A layer of it exists around our world to isolate it from the rest of the universe. We have long believed that there was no way to tap into this power, but I believe we have finally discovered a method to create a rune from it. The exact method—”

The woman’s voice cut out again.

“—as Lead Researcher, the responsibility for this test falls upon me. I will attempt to create a Rune from the energy of the Beyond within my own soul and use it to hide the Citadel—”

Her voice cut out once more, interrupted by a wall of hissing static. It returned a moment later.

“—successful. The experiment were a complete success!” the elation in the woman’s voice was impossible to contain. Noah could feel it even through the recording. “I was able to create a Rank 8 Rune that drew entirely from the power of the Beyond. I have utilized it to bind the entirety of the Citadel with the Beyond to conceal it from prying eyes that seek to cause harm with our research. The Beyond… it is far more than we ever believed. I thought that it was a lack of existence, but there’s more to it than that. The Beyond defies reality itself. Space has no concept within it. What exists in one place exists in every other. If you have a single part of the Beyond, you have all of it. It… it’s beautiful. Beyond compare. This knowledge must be shared. It could revolutionize travel. Revolutionize rune research. I can’t even begin to describe it. We cannot allow any of the Factions to monopolize its power. Once I have finished my research, I will—”

A loud, hissing pop cut the researcher’s voice off like a blade through butter.

There was a long pause.

Then her voice crackled to life again.

But, even though the accent and words were clearly from the same person that had spoken before, her voice was different.

Changed.

Dead.

“I was wrong,” the researcher said. All the life and excitement that had burned within her distant words just a few mere seconds ago had evaporated. All that remained was horror. “I have made a grave mistake. The Beyond—”

She cut out in a crackling hiss.

“Destroyed everything,” the researcher continued. “My men are mad. Dying, consumed from within. I am not far from following. I can feel it… eating my soul alive. Do not — do not call upon the Beyond. Leave it be. And do not, by all that is sacred, allow it into your soul. The Beyond corrupts all that it touches. It—”

She cut out once more, then returned an instant later, her voice growing more distant with every word.

“The records… purged. This research must not survive. Do not attempt to unearth it. My records… purged. All of them. Do not pursue the Beyond. Do not form a Rune with its power. It will infect all of them and take everything from you. It is no tool. It is death. An infection. The Citadel has fallen to my hubris. But I will not allow it to spread beyond these walls. I can do that much. We — corrupted. All of us. I have turned our final line of defense against ourselves. Ordered my men to submit themselves to its maw. I will follow suit before what little of my soul is consumed. Heed my warning. Should those who come after me find this message… should anyone survive what I must do, do not follow in my footsteps.”

There was one final crackle.

And then all that remained was silence.

Noah stared at the blue cube before him, a chill running down his back and along his arms as he finally realized how the Researchers had somehow all gotten killed by their own creation.

It hadn’t been some accident or gross incompetence like he’d previously believed.

They’d sacrificed themselves to the Devourer to stop the Beyond from ever making it out of the Citadel.