Aren did not return to his dormitory immediately after discovering the prophecy.
Instead, he remained in the Grand Library long after most students had left.
The fragment lay on the table between him and Mira.
Neither spoke for several minutes.
The words seemed to fill the silence themselves.
When Aren returns, the final age will begin.
The sentence was impossible to ignore.
More importantly, it was impossible to explain.
Aren had spent his entire life believing he was ordinary.
A student.
A nobody from a small town.
Someone who happened to gain admission to Astryx Academy.
Yet every discovery pushed that belief further away.
Artifacts reacted to him.
Ancient memories appeared inside his mind.
The throne called to him.
The seals responded to his presence.
And now his name appeared throughout centuries-old records.
It was becoming difficult to dismiss everything as coincidence.
Very difficult.
The rain continued outside.
Thunder echoed occasionally across the distant mountains.
The library felt unusually empty.
Almost isolated from the rest of the academy.
Mira finally broke the silence.
“We need to verify it.”
Aren looked up.
“The prophecy?”
She nodded.
“And the records.”
That made sense.
One document could be forged.
One fragment could be altered.
But dozens?
Hundreds?
If the name truly existed throughout the archives, there should be proof.
Aren stood immediately.
“Then let’s check.”
The investigation resumed.
For the next two hours, they searched every document containing the name.
The old student registry.
The seal reports.
The archive inventories.
The construction records.
Everything.
At first, the evidence remained unchanged.
The name appeared exactly where they remembered.
Aren.
Again and again.
Yet around midnight, something strange happened.
Aren opened a maintenance ledger he had examined earlier.
The same ledger containing his name.
Only—
The name was gone.
He frowned.
Then checked the page number.
Correct.
The document was definitely the same.
Yet the entry had changed.
Where his name once appeared, only a blank space remained.
Aren stared.
Confused.
Then concerned.
“Mira.”
She looked up from another document.
“What happened?”
Aren handed her the ledger.
Her expression changed instantly.
“This isn’t possible.”
The blank space stood out clearly.
The surrounding text remained intact.
Only the name had vanished.
Nothing else.
Just the name.
At first they assumed it was a mistake.
Perhaps they remembered incorrectly.
Perhaps exhaustion was affecting them.
Then they checked another record.
And another.
And another.
Each result made the situation worse.
The name kept disappearing.
Not from every document.
Only from some.
One by one.
As though an invisible hand was removing it.
Aren felt a chill crawl down his spine.
“This isn’t normal.”
Mira looked genuinely disturbed.
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
Because there was no normal explanation.
Ink did not simply vanish.
Ancient records did not rewrite themselves.
Yet that was exactly what appeared to be happening.
By one in the morning, panic had begun replacing curiosity.
Several documents still contained the name.
Others no longer did.
The pattern seemed random.
Or perhaps intentional.
Neither possibility was reassuring.
Aren quickly opened the prophecy fragment again.
His pulse accelerated.
The text remained.
For now.
Mira noticed immediately.
“At least that one survived.”
Unfortunately, it didn’t last.
As they watched, the final line blurred.
Slowly.
Gradually.
Almost imperceptibly.
The ink began fading.
Both froze.
Neither moved.
The words continued disappearing.
Letter by letter.
Until only fragments remained.
Then those vanished too.
Silence filled the library.
The prophecy was gone.
Completely.
For several moments, neither spoke.
Aren stared at the empty parchment.
His thoughts raced.
What was happening?
Who was doing this?
More importantly—
How?
Because nobody stood nearby.
Nobody touched the records.
The changes happened on their own.
Or appeared to.
Mira slowly sat down.
“This isn’t someone stealing books.”
Aren nodded.
“No.”
“This is something else.”
Something much worse.
The realization settled heavily between them.
The missing books suddenly made sense.
Not because someone wanted knowledge.
Because someone wanted it erased.
Destroyed.
Forgotten.
The books had simply been the beginning.
Now the records themselves were changing.
A distant bell echoed through the academy.
One.
Two.
Three times.
The sound marked midnight.
At the exact same moment, every magical light in the library flickered.
Briefly.
Then returned to normal.
Aren immediately felt it.
A strange pressure.
The same pressure that often accompanied the whispers.
The atmosphere seemed heavier.
Older.
Watching.
Mira noticed too.
“What is that?”
Aren didn’t answer.
Because he wasn’t sure.
The sensation lasted only a few seconds.
Then vanished.
Yet the damage was done.
Several nearby books suddenly fell from their shelves.
The crash echoed loudly through the empty library.
Both students jumped.
The books landed open.
Pages exposed.
Words visible.
Aren slowly approached.
Then stopped.
Every page was blank.
The books should have contained text.
Historical records.
Research notes.
Ancient observations.
Instead, every page appeared empty.
Pure white.
As though the contents had never existed.
Mira picked up another fallen volume.
Same result.
Blank.
A third.
Blank.
A fourth.
Blank.
The situation was becoming terrifying.
Because these weren’t random books.
They were all connected to the investigation.
Every single one.
Aren looked around.
Rows of shelves surrounded them.
Thousands of books.
Suddenly, he wondered how many secrets had already vanished.
How many answers had been erased before they ever arrived.
The thought made him feel sick.
Then he noticed something.
One book remained untouched.
Unlike the others, it had not fallen.
It rested alone on a nearby shelf.
Perfectly still.
The cover bore a familiar symbol.
The ancient symbol.
Again.
Carefully, Aren removed it.
The moment he did, a folded note slipped free.
The handwriting was elegant.
Old-fashioned.
Immediately familiar.
Aren unfolded the note.
A single sentence awaited.
The archive forgets what the seal fears.
Nothing else.
No signature.
No explanation.
Only another clue.
Another warning.
Another mystery.
Mira read the note over his shoulder.
“The seal fears something.”
Aren nodded slowly.
Apparently.
And whatever the seal feared involved his name.
Hours later, they finally returned to the hidden archive beneath the library.
The underground chamber felt different.
More silent than before.
More abandoned.
The lantern on the desk had extinguished itself.
Several shelves now stood completely empty.
The missing books had not returned.
Worse—
Additional records had vanished.
Entire sections of the archive looked stripped clean.
Aren hurried toward Professor Selene’s journal.
The journal remained.
Thankfully.
Yet even it appeared altered.
Several pages had become blank.
Others contained missing paragraphs.
The information was disappearing.
Piece by piece.
A systematic erasure.
Then Mira discovered something unexpected.
A fresh entry.
One they had never seen before.
Written in Professor Selene’s handwriting.
The ink looked recent.
Only a few days old.
Aren immediately began reading.
The erasure has begun.
His stomach tightened.
The entry continued.
Historical correction mechanisms are activating.
Records connected to the successor are disappearing.
If this entry remains, then containment has already failed.
Aren’s pulse accelerated.
Containment.
Failed.
Neither sounded encouraging.
The final line disturbed him most.
The Academy is trying to forget him again.
Silence followed.
Aren read the sentence twice.
Then three times.
The meaning felt obvious.
And terrifying.
Not someone.
Not history.
Not the records.
The Academy.
As though the institution itself possessed awareness.
Memory.
Intent.
The ground suddenly trembled.
A deep vibration echoed through the hidden archive.
Dust fell from ancient shelves.
Several books toppled onto the floor.
Aren immediately recognized the sensation.
The seal.
Something beneath the academy was moving again.
The vibration lasted several seconds.
Then stopped.
Yet before the silence returned completely—
A whisper echoed through his mind.
Clearer than ever before.
Not distant.
Not faint.
Close.
Very close.
“They erased you once.”
Aren froze.
The voice continued.
Ancient.
Calm.
Patient.
“They will try again.”
His blood ran cold.
Because for the first time, the whisper didn’t feel like a random message.
It felt like a memory.
A memory directed at him.
Far beneath Astryx Academy, beyond countless layers of stone and forgotten magic, ancient runes flickered violently.
Cracks spread across portions of the First Seal.
The damage was accelerating.
For centuries, the seal had suppressed something.
Protected something.
Hidden something.
Now it struggled to maintain control.
Above, Aren stared at the fading records surrounding him.
His name was disappearing.
Not accidentally.
Not naturally.
Deliberately.
Someone—or something—had erased him from history before.
And now the process had begun again.
The question that terrified him most wasn’t why.
It was what had happened the first time.
Because if history had truly forgotten him once before…
Then perhaps history remembered far more than he did.