Once he was inside the Golden Realm, Nathan opened the book and set it on his lap.

  The first several chapters were more or less what Nathan had expected. It was a diary of a soldier from the time period. He spoke of his shock in the tutorial circle, the way his comrades seemed to fall like flies—and his own luck in managing to slay a monster and obtain a few levels.

  He spoke of managing to get out of the tutorial circle and reach the first. The diary ended there.

  The logs of the second and third circles were from the perspective of the Queen.

  Apparently, the king of the elves had been contacted by a god from their homeland. He'd been offered power—a chance to reach the bottom. Some kind of charisma-based ability. Not quite mind control, but something that allowed him to make allies with even the most unlikely of individuals. A sort of +100 to all of his speech checks.

  On the fourth circle, the king managed to talk to “a higher power, who did verily understand the system.” Thanks to his ability, the king convinced the higher power to join their side and help them escape the nine circles.

  Nathan furrowed his eyebrows at the naming. A higher power… were they talking about another god?

  They obtained the materials necessary to “make their escape” on the fifth circle.

  On the sixth circle, they executed their plan. Unfortunately, they were stopped by—

  The words fizzled out into a stream of gibberish, black ink slathered across the page in random directions. On the next page, it was nothing but one word repeated over and over again.

  Her.

  Her her her her her her her her her her her her her her.

  Page after page after page after page.

  Eventually, the writer seemed to get creative and started introducing new titles. The One with a Thousand Eyes. She Who Was Before Before. The Rot.

  Nathan had to give the Queen credit. She was pretty creative when it came to the naming of eldritch abominations.

  After a while, the words came to an abrupt halt.

  The next page was by a different writer with a different writing style. The writer introduced himself as a bureaucrat who’d been responsible for managing logistics. He recorded the insanity of the Queen and how she lost her mind after a conversation with her husband.

  The bureaucrat explained that they had reached the Sixth Circle, and that the higher being was assisting them in executing their escape. It wouldn’t be long—a day, maybe two.

  On the next page, the bureaucrat reported that they’d made their escape. They’d entered a strange golden realm—but it hadn’t been without cost. On the way out, something had tried to stop them. The king and the higher being had worked together as one in order to hold off the creature while allowing the people to escape.

  The words "as one" were underlined repeatedly.

  The bureaucrat noted that creature was the wrong term—it was somehow so much more and so much less than a creature. The ink melted in drooping blotches when mentioning the creature.

  Nathan had a pretty good idea what the creature was.

  What was more surprising was that the king and the higher being had managed to hold it off. Was it just the head who had attacked them? Surely, they couldn’t have stood against the whole of the Mother System.

  Either way, the bureaucrat recorded that they managed to get home safely—and then explained, in excruciating detail, how they went on a campaign against the orcs and slaughtered them systematically, one after another, using their newfound powers from the Nine Circles.

  Nathan squinted at the page. He was starting to get why the orcs hated the elves so much.

  After he finished reading, Nathan shut the book and leaned back with a sigh.

  It was more or less what he’d been expecting. What he’d hoped for were explicit instructions on how the elves had apparently managed to force the Mother System in check—or at least distract her or buy time, based off the text—but he knew, in the back of his mind, that it was very unlikely such information would have survived the passage of time.

  Nathan suspected that the collective trauma from losing so many people to the Nine Circles made it so that nobody wanted to record what happened or preserve the historical records from that period. They just wanted to forget about it and move on. It didn’t hurt that elves were so long-lived that they probably figured that if anything needed to be written down, someone would remember it.

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  And besides, who could have anticipated them being thrown into the meat grinder for a second time? Nathan supposed that he couldn’t blame them, all things considered.

  Nathan tapped his finger against the book.

  Although it wasn’t incredibly helpful, there were still clues here. The higher being...

  What was it? Another divinity? Some kind of new third party?

  It seemed as if the higher being had at least some ability to comprehend or understand the composition of the Mother System. That was the only thing Nathan could think of for how exactly they managed to slow it down. There were exclusive details that somebody in the story knew, and the only explanation was this higher being.

  But where exactly was Nathan supposed to find such a being?

  He snapped the book shut and rubbed his temples. Nothing. He didn’t have any idea what to do.

  With no other option, he made the long walk upward back to the Nine Circles.

  Nathan ended up running into the royal archivist on the way out. Said archivist was very surprised that Nathan had remained sane—apparently, he’d been expecting Nathan to turn into a blithering madman after cracking open the book.

  Nathan thanked the man for his faith in the strongest person in the apocalypse.

  After that, he ran into Emi at the front gates. She was dressed in the sorriest excuse for a disguise that he’d ever seen. All she had on was a brown-colored cloak that was drawn up at the hood. Her red eyes peered from underneath the shadows created by her headwear, giving the appearance of some sort of predator in the dark.

  That illusion was immediately broken by her voice.

  “Nathan, you didn’t turn into a crazy person!” she shouted.

  Nathan gave a thumbs-up. “If I went crazy, it wouldn’t be because of a book. The only type of insanity I’d accept are all the ones caused by hereditary genetic problems.”

  “What is this 'genetic' you speak of?”

  “Of or referring to genes.”

  “What are genes?”

  “A type of pants. Don’t worry about it.”

  Emi nodded up and down as if he hadn’t said anything unusual.

  “I just wanted to check on you. I know you’re strong, but even really strong people aren’t immune to the Book of Ancients.”

  Nathan considered telling her that the book itself wasn’t the real problem, but what the knowledge contained within summoned. Then he decided that, given prior events, he really didn’t want to have to deal with another magic-adapting worm that he had to throw into space.

  “I guess I’m just that cool," he said.

  “You say that with a completely deadpan expression on your face.”

  Right as Nathan was about to respond, he heard a ding.

  A message on Dither from one of his whitelist of contacts.

  He opened up the window and read the message.

  Dear Nathan,

  It’s Bjorn. I have made a grave error. I explained our conversation to Fenrir, expecting him to cooperate. But as soon as I spoke, he was seized by convulsions, and a strange look appeared in his eye. He spoke to me, but it was with a voice completely different than any I’ve heard before. It was like something had possessed him.

  He still possesses the same mannerisms of the old Fenrir, but there is a tinge of madness to every one of his actions, and his sentences don’t make sense anymore. I don’t know what’s happening—I suspect our mutual enemy has something to do with it. In retrospect, though I hate to attack your judgment, you shouldn’t have told me about you-know-who. I feel her presence every time I think of her. She is perpetually around us, permeating the air. I don’t know how you haven’t gone insane with the knowledge.

  To this end, I’ve contacted one of the few mind healers in our service to have my memory wiped. I will also delete this message before the procedure.

  I do hate to leave you alone with this problem, but until we have a way to protect ourselves against her, anybody you tell will become a liability. The knowledge is like a virus, spreading from person to person, infecting them and driving them mad. I refuse to be another victim.

  Nathan really, really shouldn’t have told Bjorn about that subject.

  Nathan wondered what exactly it was that made him different. He was mentally tough—he could admit that much to himself—but he doubted that mental toughness was the only thing that had allowed him to survive.

  It must have been his ability to compartmentalize. Even back on Earth, it was always one of his best talents. He mostly used it to avoid thinking about what a failure his life had been, but right now, it was acting as a way to slow down her attack on his mind.

  But surely that couldn’t last forever.

  After they managed to finish their goal, he probably needed to see if he could get his mind wiped as well.

  Something that vaguely amused him was that writing it down was probably a bad idea too. If he did that, he’d be forced to systematically go through the memories one by one, which would probably do a number on his mental health—at least if the Queen’s writings were anything to go by.

  “What are you reading?” Emi asked.

  “Message from Bjorn.”

  Her face darkened, and her red eyes seemed to turn the color of blood in the lighting.

  “Traitor.” Her fists clenched. “I could find him for you. Track him down and—”

  “That’s ill-advised. Bjorn is doing the best he can—really, this situation is all my fault.”

  She stared at him in confusion. “How could this possibly be your fault?”

  “It’s kind of hard to explain. But suffice it to say, I shared information I shouldn’t have. And that’s the reason why Fenrir is going after us.”

  She squinted her eyes at him, then sighed.

  “If you say so." She smiled. "I still think that Bjorn should be eliminated.”

  “You’re starting to sound like Mara.”

  “She’s not completely insane.”

  Nathan stared at her. Her expression turned brittle.

  “Okay, that’s a fair point,” she said.

  Nathan couldn't help but chuckle. “It’s nice to hear that you, her, and Lily got along so well."

  Emi hummed. “I don’t have a lot of friends, as you can imagine. My duties put too much distance between me and the other elves. All of you, however—all of you treat me as if I’m normal. It’s a nice feeling.”

  “I know you’re supposed to be a princess or whatever, but to me, you’ll always be that weird girl who shoved magic crystals into her arm in order to learn a new power.”

  “Hey, don’t tease me about that! You know that really hurt, right?”

  “I’m aware.”