Now exiting the central aisle, they followed a corridor that led to another part of the Library. It was quieter there, less crowded. A front desk stood near the entrance, with various floating spheres placed atop it like decorations or artifacts. A girl, probably no older than sixteen, stood behind it. When she saw Ephini, she waved eagerly.
"Teacher!" she called, smiling brightly.
At first, Gilly thought the girl's cheerfulness was just a mirror of Ephini's. But when she turned to truly look at the room, her breath caught.
To the left hovered an immense sphere, about a meter and a half wide and three meters tall. It floated mid-air, and around it revolved nine smaller orbs like moons around a planet. The sight was otherworldly, majestic. She stepped forward, transfixed by the slow, graceful orbit of the spheres. Her own reflection stared back at her from the central orb's surface, distorted and ethereal.
"Gilly," Valmor said gently, calling her back before she got too close.
She blinked, then approached the desk. The young girl handed her a stone tablet and a pen.
Gilly hesitated. She explained, cautiously, that she was from a faraway place—careful not to mention she was from another world entirely.
+"Language beautification will now remain active permanently."
She glanced around, checking to make sure no one had heard the voice in her head. Of course they hadn't. It was always like that.
She took the pen and began to write. The language that flowed from her hand was strange, alien, and yet somehow familiar.
"Gilly... Asmoth," the young girl read aloud, then smiled. "I'm Zenora. Ephini teaches me magic."
Magic. The word struck Gilly like a sudden gust of wind. So it was possible to learn it? Not just feel it, but study it?
Once the tablet was filled with her details, including place of birth and age, Zenora led her to the large sphere. Ephini was now occupied with others—likely more of her students.
"Do you remember the feeling from earlier?" Valmor asked, stroking his beard.
She nodded.
"Can you replicate it? Since where you come from might not have history with magic."
Her expression darkened. He was still trying to dig into her past. Sensing her discomfort, he held her gaze for a moment, then looked away.
"Since you don't trust me yet, I'll just try my best to win you over," he said, and gave a small, embarrassed cough. Her frown eased into a faint smile.
"Just focus on the feeling from earlier." He patted her shoulder and stepped back.
The room fell silent.
Even Seras had entered, standing by the doorway. All eyes were on Gilly now.
Valmor had summarized the process before. Her stone tablet was placed on a platform beside the sphere. All she had to do was pour mana into it.
Nervous under the weight of so many stares, she closed her eyes and extended her hand.
She stood still for nearly an hour, eyes shut, chasing that elusive feeling of energy.
From her perspective, only minutes had passed. Then, slowly, the central sphere began to glow.
Valmor sighed, seemingly disappointed. But Seras narrowed her eyes. A golden staff shimmered into her hand.
Her expression shifted—to something that hadn't graced her face in centuries: fear.
The sphere's glow intensified. One by one, the nine surrounding orbs lit up.
Except for the final three: gold, grey, and pitch black.
Valmor grew tense. Ephini's eyes widened. Seras stepped forward, commanding attention.
"Stay back!" she barked.
The crowd recoiled. Sweat trickled down her temple. Ephini had never seen her grandmother like this. Valmor didn't dare move.
The central sphere now blazed like a miniature sun.
A low boom echoed. The air vibrated and pulsed, bending to the girl beside the sphere. People were pushed back. Only Seras remained standing.
She raised a barrier, trying to dampen the growing pressure. All others were forced to their knees.
"To think a child could pressure a Divine-class like me... What did you give birth to, Elna?" she muttered, face pale.
Gilly began to levitate. The nine orbs pulsed with full color now. The pressure climbed further. Cracks webbed across Seras' barrier.
She analyzed Gilly again and again. There was no anomaly. But her instincts screamed otherwise. Her experience told her: this was magic jamming—and worse.
Despair took root in the room. Then, the barrier shattered.
Time slowed to a crawl.
Time stopped.
Gilly, deep in the trance of mana, became aware of her surroundings again. She was frozen in place, yet her mind was vividly awake.
She was utterly still—frozen in form—but fully conscious. She felt mana coursing through her like a new bloodstream, burning yet invigorating.
+"Mana circuit established. Initiating skill matrix engraving from Source."
+"Error. User has exceeded the maximum threshold tolerable by world foundation. Obeservation by them will no longer be blocked"
Another voice cut in—this one was different. Curious. Sentient.
& "...Hmm. Where am I? Odd. This body... it isn't mechanical."
+"Warning: Unidentified Ego detected in subspace. Commencing analysis."
A low mechanical hum pulsed through her mind, like a machine spinning into overdrive.
+"Attempting confinement of Ego to subspace domain… failed."
& "You dare try to contain me? It'll take you a thousand more years to manage that."
+"Rewriting parameters. Imposing world-bound constraints. Subspace redefinition… success."
& "Tch. I'll need time to regain power. But make no mistake—I will return."
+"Authorization complete. Ego now barred from external communication… enforced."
The confrontation faded. The second presence, defiant and proud, went silent.
Gilly remained trapped in her body, like a ghost watching herself. Though her eyes were open, though she could hear everything, she could do nothing.
And then, the whispers began.
Not from within—but from everywhere.
++ "A new one...?"
— "She's incomplete."
^^ "This one resembles... that other."
Agreement followed. A collective hum of voices she could not see, but could feel all around her like shifting walls.
** "She survived. Pity she couldn't return."
$$"..."
!!"........."
~~"*#&@^(*@*)@("
There were eleven voices in total. Eleven unseen watchers. Each word was a needle in her mind—sharp, surreal, draining. The pain wasn't unbearable, but it was unrelenting. Like slow drowning in a sea of whispers.
She tried to listen, but the agony from three of the voices muffled their meaning into nothingness. With each passing moment, her mind slipped further into haze.
Sleep came not as rest, but as surrender.
She drifted, cradled by cosmic forces she didn't understand—forces ancient and watching, still speaking as her consciousness dissolved into black.
Gilly's breath—if she was even breathing—came shallow and slow, each exhale dragged through a fog of static pain and blurred thought. The voices continued, echoing through the endless void as if they were unraveling some ancient verdict around her very soul. She could feel them brushing against her essence, not touching flesh, but something deeper—her identity, her being.
The pain from the three was unlike anything else; not fire, not cold, but a sharp pulling at the threads of her existence, as if their presence alone was too much for her reality to bear. Her thoughts, once fluid and panicked, began to flicker in and out like a dying signal. Yet, something held her consciousness intact—a thread, a tether, perhaps not her own.
Then, as if time exhaled after holding its breath, silence fell. Not the absence of sound, but a silence so complete it seemed to fold the world inward. It was in that moment that she realized the voices weren't speaking to her—they were speaking about her.
Like scholars before an artifact, they discussed her as if she were both anomaly and answer, relic and revelation. Her mind ached with every word, every judgment passed by these unseen beings who seemed older than history. She didn't understand the language, but their intent bled through—the weight of expectation, the fear of what she might become, and a quiet, cautious awe.
Then came a final voice—not from the unseen figures above, but from within. It was vast, cold, ancient, and yet it carried no malice. It spoke not to her mind, but through it, like a current running beneath her thoughts.
+"Aeons We cannot bear your presence. We will approach this domain when we again when we gain more %$@##!@ ."
The words rang like a verdict sealed in time, reverberating through the silence that followed. And just like that, the oppressive pressure lifted. The voices vanished, slipping away like shadows dissolving in sunlight. Gilly, suspended in that void between waking and oblivion, finally collapsed into unconsciousness—alone, trembling, and unaware of the storm she had just survived, or the ones her presence had now begun to stir.