The moment Serena fully awoke, the Vatican shifted like a living cathedral holding its breath.

  Every corridor brightened. Priests knelt.

  And Saint Fariel, luminous in his sacred mantle, personally escorted her through the deep, spiraling undercroft of the Grand Cathedral.

  Her bare feet glided above the floor, never quite touching stone.

  Four wings folded gracefully behind her like a fading star.

  She followed silently, unblinking crimson eyes observing everything with eerie serenity — neither curious nor fearful… merely aware.

  Fariel led her through a narrow hallway lit only with golden sigil-flames.

  Finally, they reached a massive archway sealed by twelve layered magic crests.

  Fariel touched the sigil at its center.

  One by one, the seals unraveled.

  GONG.

  GONG.

  GONG.

  The doors parted.

  And Serena gazed into a colossal vault filled with ancient shelves, preserved scrolls, dusty grimoires, carved tablets, relics suspended in shimmering glass — the lost memories of 2000 years.

  Fariel stepped in first.

  “This place,” he said softly, “is known as the Archive of Dawn. Only Saints, High Cardinals, and the ‘Chosen’ are allowed entry.”

  Serena floated forward, expression unreadable.

  Fariel guided her deeper.

  “This archive predates even the Holy City. It has been preserved since the founding of the Vatican — two thousand years ago.”

  Serena’s wings rustled faintly as she stopped before a giant mural drawn by the first chroniclers.

  Fariel continued:

  “Do you know why the Vatican was founded, my dear Serena?”

  Her voice was quiet, like a bell underwater.

  “…To fight darkness?”

  Fariel smiled.

  “A poetic truth, but not the full one.”

  He stepped closer to the mural and brushed the ancient dust away.

  Beneath it—

  A face was drawn.

  Majestic, terrifying, inhumanly beautiful.

  Long hair. Untamed aura. Eyes like burning crimson stars.

  A monstrous shadow erupting behind him.

  Serena stared with a feeling of familiarity.

  “…Who is this?”

  Fariel did not blink.

  “This is the record of the first being humanity ever feared.

  The primordial darkness.”

  He never said the name.

  Draculius Corvan.

  Her father.

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  He lied by omission with a saint’s gentle calm.

  Fariel’s voice deepened:

  “Humanity had known vampires prior — the feral, mindless flawed ones. But when they encountered this being… we realized we were the flawed creation.”

  The torches flickered.

  Serena’s gaze subtly narrowed, but her face remained emotionless.

  Fariel continued walking, guiding her deeper.

  “And so, after this revelation, the first Pope and first Saint established the Vatican. Our sacred mission, on the surface, was to eradicate darkness…”

  He glanced back at her with a serene smile.

  “…But the true mission was something far greater.”

  They reached shelves of tightly sealed scrolls and crystalline containers of fossilized monster parts.

  “The Vatican’s real purpose,” Fariel said, “was to uncover the true history of the world — the knowledge lost to time.”

  He tapped a stone tablet depicting an ancient beast with four eyes and celestial horns.

  “Over the centuries, we discovered countless remnants of extinct creatures, forgotten relics, and civilizations beyond imagination.”

  He passed a pedestal holding a sealed book with a spirit-beast sigil.

  “Monsters that should not exist.”

  “Races erased from history.”

  “Magic that predates human understanding.”

  Serena absorbed it all silently, her expression like a still lake.

  Finally Fariel stopped before a massive, ancient tome bound in cracked obsidian leather.

  Dust drifted away from it the moment Serena approached.

  “This,” Fariel said, reverent, “is the greatest treasure our ancestors retrieved from the ruins of an ancient civilization hidden in a cavern beyond human reach.”

  He rested a hand on the cover.

  “‘Eternia’—

  the Book of Eternity.”

  Serena’s wings shimmered faintly as she stared at the title.

  “It records a truth older than any kingdom… older than humanity itself.”

  He opened the book carefully.

  Yellowed pages flipped on their own, as if guiding itself.

  Until—

  A page depicting three overlapping circles carved in silver ink.

  “The world,” Fariel said, “has gone through three cycles of existence.

  Three resets.

  Three eras lost to time.”

  “Three… cycles?” Serena whispered.

  Fariel nodded.

  “Each cycle spans thousands—perhaps ten thousand—years. Enough time for civilization to rise, flourish… then crumble into dust before the next cycle begins.”

  Serena’s voice softened.

  “…Then our world… is the fourth?”

  He smiled warmly.

  “That is correct.”

  He turned another page.

  This one depicted a radiant figure fighting a monstrous shadow.

  “In every cycle, a chosen being arises — granted a divine power to change the fate of their age.”

  His hand hovered near her cheek, but he didn’t touch.

  “And in this era, that chosen one… is you, Serena.”

  Her crimson eyes widened slightly — the closest thing to emotion she had shown since awakening.

  “Chosen… by God.”

  “Indeed,” Fariel said with an affectionate bow of the head.

  “Your wings, your immortal body, your holy aura — all manifestations of what this book calls an Origin.”

  Serena tilted her head.

  “…Origin?”

  Fariel chuckled softly.

  “Allow me to explain.”

  He tapped a diagram showing ancient symbols.

  “There exist primordial aspects that form the foundation of our world.

  The Origins.”

  “Time.”

  “Space.”

  “Life.”

  “Death.”

  “Fire.”

  “Water.”

  “Wind.”

  “Earth.”

  “Lightning.”

  “…Light.”

  “And—” he lowered his voice—

  “…possibly Shadow.”

  Serena’s wings shifted, rustling lightly.

  Fariel went on:

  “These Origins exist as fundamental truths. The source from which every spell, every element, every energy in the world is merely a reflection.”

  He leaned closer to her ear.

  “What humanity wields now—magic—is only a shadow of those true Origins.”

  He straightened.

  “You, Serena, possess the Origin of Light.

  The first Origin ever obtained by humanity.”

  Serena whispered:

  “…The first…”

  “Yes.”

  “Your existence is a miracle.”

  Fariel walked to another mural — burned black in many places, as if erased on purpose.

  “And now… there are signs that another has awakened.”

  He traced the blackened silhouette on the wall.

  “An entity capable of wielding the Origin of Shadow.”

  Serena stared at the figure.

  Her voice softened.

  “Shadow… Origin…”

  Fariel nodded solemnly.

  “If this wielder fully awakens, humanity may be swallowed whole.”

  He walked toward her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  “And so, my dear Serena… it falls to you.”

  Her eyes rose to meet his.

  “To protect humanity.

  To defeat the Shadowborn.”

  A quiet breath escaped her lips.

  “…I understand.”

  She bowed her head.

  “…This is my purpose.”

  Fariel smiled with saintly gentleness.

  “Yes. You were born to be humanity’s light.”

  He turned and called toward the entrance.

  “Prepare proper attire for the holy one. She must step into the world with divine grace.”

  Priests bowed deeply and approached.

  Serena followed them without complaint, angelic wings gliding like fog.

  When the great doors shut behind her, Fariel turned back toward the archive.

  His holy expression slowly twisted.

  The gentle smile stretched into something darker… calculated.

  “She believes it,” he whispered.

  “She believes everything.”

  The torches dimmed as his voice lowered.

  “The seed has been planted.

  The perfect shield.

  The perfect weapon.”

  He placed his hand on the mural of the primordial darkness—Draculius.

  “Let the Shadowborn rise.”

  A cold smirk.

  “And let her be the one to kill him.”