Mason unfolded the report without saying a word.

The corridor had gone eerily quiet. Even the guards standing behind Draca seemed reluctant to breathe.

His eyes settled on the single sentence written across the page.

Another page has disappeared from the Witness journal.

He looked up slowly.

"...What?"

Draca’s expression remained grim.

"It was there yesterday."

"The page vanished?"

"No."

Draca shook his head. "It was removed."

Mason frowned. "How do you know the difference?"

"Because the binding was cut."

That immediately changed everything.

Someone hadn’t stolen the journal.

Someone had carefully removed only one page.

Mason lowered the report. "Who had access?"

"Very few."

"Which somehow makes this worse."

"It does."

Neither of them spoke for several moments.

The guards exchanged uneasy glances.

One finally stepped forward.

"My goddess... the scholars have already confirmed it wasn’t damaged naturally."

"So we’re dealing with someone who knew exactly what they wanted."

The guard nodded. "Yes."

Mason folded the report and sighed.

"I swear this palace attracts more secrets than nobles."

Draca almost smiled. "That’s probably true."

"Not comforting."

The commander motioned toward the hallway.

"We’re heading to the archives."

Mason blinked. "Again?"

"You expected somewhere more enjoyable?"

"I don’t know... breakfast?"

"You already missed breakfast."

"...Now I’m solving crimes on an empty stomach."

One of the younger guards covered his mouth to hide a laugh.

Draca pretended not to notice.

The lower archives had become almost unrecognizable overnight.

Additional soldiers guarded every entrance.

Temple scholars argued in low voices near the shelves.

Several Tribunal officials stood outside the restricted section, clearly unhappy about being denied entry.

The atmosphere felt heavier than before.

Nobody trusted anyone.

The moment Mason entered, Zereth looked up from the journal resting on the central table.

His expression revealed very little.

Only tired eyes.

"You’ve seen the report."

"I have."

Mason walked closer. "So where’s the journal?"

Zereth stepped aside. It rested inside a glass display case.

Two temple seals had been placed across the lid.

Three scholars stood nearby, documenting every page that remained.

Mason immediately noticed the gap.

One section near the center had been sliced cleanly from the binding.

No torn paper.

No damage.

Just...nothing.

His stomach tightened.

Someone had done this carefully.

"Who found it?" Mason asked.

"One of the archivists."

"And?"

"He fainted."

"...Reasonable."

Even Zereth’s lips twitched faintly.

"The room was locked all night," he continued.

"The guards never left their posts."

"So either someone walked through walls..."

Mason folded his arms. "...or somebody inside opened the door."

Nobody argued. Because it was the most likely explanation.

Draca moved beside the display case.

"There were no broken seals."

"No forced entry."

"No hidden passages."

Mason looked around the chamber.

"...That anyone knows about."

Draca gave him a look. "Don’t."

"I’m just saying."

"You’ve discovered enough secret doors already."

"Not intentionally."

Assura’s amused voice drifted from behind them. "That is somehow less reassuring."

Mason didn’t even bother turning around.

"You really enjoy appearing dramatically, don’t you?"

"I’ve practiced."

"I can tell."

Assura approached the journal.

Unlike everyone else, he didn’t immediately study the missing page.

Instead, he examined the binding.

His expression became thoughtful. "Hm."

Zereth noticed. "What?"

"The page wasn’t removed recently."

The room fell silent.

Mason frowned. "...Explain."

Assura tapped the edge of the book.

"The cut is old."

Draca stared at him. "Old?"

"Very."

"How old?"

The immortal shrugged. "I couldn’t tell you precisely."

"Years?"

"Perhaps."

"Decades?"

"Possibly."

Mason frowned harder.

"If it’s old, why did we only notice now?"

Assura looked at him. "Because nobody compared it against the original inventory."

Several scholars immediately exchanged alarmed looks. One elderly historian rushed toward another shelf.

He returned carrying an ancient catalog.

His hands trembled as he opened it.

Several names.

Several records.

Several archived journals.

Then... His face drained of color.

"It..."

He swallowed. "It originally contained twelve pages."

The journal inside the display case held eleven.

Nobody spoke.

The silence lasted so long that Mason could hear someone drop a quill on the opposite side of the room.

Draca finally broke it. "So..."

"The page has been missing for years."

The elderly scholar nodded weakly.

"Apparently."

Mason rubbed both temples. "This investigation somehow became worse."

"I didn’t think that was possible," Draca admitted.

"It wasn’t."

"It clearly was."

One of the Tribunal observers stepped forward. "This changes everything."

Zereth looked at him. "No."

The man hesitated. "It changes nothing."

Everyone turned toward Zereth.

His voice remained calm.

"The page wasn’t stolen yesterday."

He looked directly at the assembled scholars. "It was discovered yesterday."

A murmur spread across the room.

Mason slowly nodded.

He understood what Zereth meant.

Someone wanted them to believe the investigation had been compromised now.

But if the page had disappeared years ago... Then whoever removed it had planned far ahead. Or... someone had been hiding the truth long before any of them were born.

Neither possibility was comforting.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the archives.

Then Athlian’s voice suddenly echoed inside Mason’s mind.

’Don’t let them count the pages.’

Mason stiffened.

His breathing caught for the briefest moment. "...What?"

There was no answer.

Only silence.

He frowned inwardly. "Athlian?"

Nothing.

Draca immediately noticed. "Mason."

The name slipped out so naturally that neither of them reacted at first.

Then Mason froze.

Very slowly...he turned toward Draca.

The commander looked confused.

"...What?"

"You said it again."

Draca blinked. "Said what?"

"Mason."

The room seemed to disappear around

them.

Even Zereth quietly watched.

Mason stepped closer. "You keep calling me that."

Draca frowned. "I..."

He hesitated.

"I don’t remember saying it."

"You literally just did."

"I called you... Goddess."

"No."

Mason held his gaze. "You called me Mason."

Draca’s expression slowly shifted from confusion...to genuine concern.

"I don’t know why that name feels familiar."

For the first time...There wasn’t uncertainty in his voice.There was frustration.

As if he had been trying to remember something that always slipped away the moment he reached it.

Mason searched his face.

There was no deception or hesitation.

Only honest confusion..and somehow...That frightened Mason even more.

Nobody spoke after Draca’s confession.

The bustling archive suddenly felt much smaller.

Mason searched the commander’s face, hoping to find some hint that he was joking. There wasn’t one.

Draca looked as unsettled as everyone else.

"You truly don’t remember saying it?" Mason asked quietly.

Draca shook his head. "I remember speaking."

"But not the name."

"No."

Mason let out a slow breath. "That’s becoming a problem."

"It already is," Zereth said.

His voice drew everyone’s attention.

He had been watching the exchange with unusual focus, his eyes moving between

Mason and Draca as though comparing something only he could see.

"Commander," Zereth continued, "has this happened before?"

Draca hesitated. "...Yes."

Mason’s head snapped toward him.

"What?"

"Not often."

"How often is ’not often’?"

"I never paid attention to it."

Mason stared. "You’ve been calling me another person’s name and you never thought to mention it?"

"I didn’t realize I was doing it."

Assura chuckled under his breath. "I suppose that’s one way to keep a mystery alive."

Mason shot him a look. "This isn’t funny."

"I didn’t say it was."

"But you’re smiling."

"I smile when people become confused."

"You’re impossible."

"I’ve been told."

Draca ignored them both. "I only became aware of it after you questioned me the first time."

"And since then?"

"I’ve tried to catch myself."

His brows drew together. "But every time you ask..."

He looked genuinely bothered. "...I can’t remember saying it."

That answer only deepened the mystery.

Mason folded his arms.

"So my options are either you’re unconsciously inventing names..."

"...or?"

"...or something is seriously wrong."

Nobody liked either possibility.

An elderly archivist cleared his throat nervously. "My Goddess..."

"What?"

"We may have discovered something related to the missing page."

Every conversation stopped.

The old scholar hurried toward a nearby desk covered with scrolls and carefully unrolled a faded document.

"It isn’t the missing page itself."

"Go on."

"It’s a copying record."

Mason walked over.

The ink had faded badly with age, but several entries remained readable.

Dates.

Names.

Official seals. And one short note written in the margin. One page withheld under divine instruction.

Mason frowned. "...Divine instruction?"

The archivist nodded. "It appears whoever archived the journal knew a page had been removed."

Draca looked toward Zereth. "So this wasn’t a theft."

"No."

Zereth’s expression darkened. "It was sanctioned."

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Someone...long ago...had officially ordered part of the Witness journal to disappear.

Not stolen or hidden.

Mason rubbed his forehead. "I hate ancient people."

Several scholars looked horrified.

Assura laughed outright. "I’ve missed your priorities."

"I’m serious."

"They write everything in riddles."

"They do."

"They hide everything."

"They certainly do."

"And somehow every answer creates five new questions."

Assura’s smile lingered. "Now you’re beginning to understand history."

Mason wasn’t sure whether to punch him or thank him. Probably both.

Before he could decide, hurried footsteps echoed through the archive.

A young palace messenger nearly tripped over the doorway.

"Commander!"

Draca turned immediately. "What happened?"

"The High Council has assembled."

"So early?"

"The Tribunal demanded an emergency session."

Zereth sighed quietly. "Of course they did."

The messenger swallowed. "They’ve also requested the Goddess’s presence."

Mason groaned. "I was happier five seconds ago."

"You weren’t."

"...Fair."

Draca gestured toward the exit.

"We’ll hear what they want."

"I already know."

"What?"

"They want access."

"They do."

"They’re not getting it."

Draca’s mouth curved into the faintest smile.

"No."

The council chamber was already filled when they arrived.

Nobles occupied one side of the room.

Temple representatives filled another.

The Tribunal delegation stood together near the center, their leader wearing the same calm smile Mason had begun to distrust.

The moment Mason entered, dozens of conversations stopped.

He hated when that happened.

The Tribunal envoy stepped forward first.

"My Goddess."

"What is it this time?"

"The situation has escalated."

"I’m aware."

"We believe continued secrecy will only encourage panic."

Mason folded his arms. "And?"

"The hidden chamber should be opened."

"No."

The answer came before anyone else could speak.

Several heads turned toward Zereth.

The envoy smiled politely. "You continue refusing every request."

"Correct."

"The Tribunal is authorized..."

"No."

Mason almost laughed.

He had to admit... Watching Zereth shut people down with a single word was strangely satisfying.

The envoy inhaled slowly.

"We now possess evidence that official records were deliberately altered."

"We know."

"The public deserves answers."

Draca finally stepped forward. "The public deserves accurate answers."

"Which requires investigation."

"Which requires patience."

The envoy’s pleasant expression stiffened.

"Commander, with respect..."

"No."

This time it was Draca’s turn.

Mason blinked. Apparently the palace had developed a new diplomatic strategy.

Just say no repeatedly.

It was surprisingly effective. A few nobles struggled to hide their amusement.

Even Mason couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from lifting.

The envoy noticed.

"I’m glad someone finds this entertaining."

"I don’t."

Mason answered honestly. "I’m just very tired."

That earned a few quiet chuckles around the chamber.

The atmosphere relaxed...Only for a heartbeat, then another official hurried inside carrying a sealed scroll.

He bowed deeply.

"Urgent message."

"From where?" Zereth asked.

"The eastern archive."

Every smile disappeared.

The official broke the seal with trembling

hands before reading aloud.

"During this morning’s inventory..."

He paused.

His face turned pale.

"...another Witness record has been found."

Hope flickered across several faces.

Then the man finished reading. "It is completely blank."

Silence swallowed the room.

Mason exchanged a look with Draca.

Neither of them spoke. Because they were both thinking the same thing, someone wasn’t just hiding history anymore.

Someone was making sure it could never be recovered.