"What kind of name is that? So weird."

Selene’s naming sense is seriously eccentric. I genuinely have no idea how she comes up with stuff like that. It’s like her brain just pulls words out of ancient runes and goes,

"Yep, that sounds cool in my head."

"No. Too weird," I said flatly.

"Hey, just hear me out!"

Hear what, exactly? Aren’t names supposed to be cool? Something that clicks? Like Shadow Garden. Tarot Club. Even Nazareth has a ring to it. Names that are sharp, catchy, and stylish. Not something that sounds like an archaic ritual phrase.

"Okay. First off, why ’Primordial Scriptures’?"

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she casually summoned a bunch of grimoires—from my thoughts, apparently.

Wait, what?

"So... that’s what you meant?"

She simply nodded. No explanation. Just that look that said, connect the dots, genius.

"By the way, I got all these grimoires from your world, Kairi."

Hold on—what?

Seriously? How come I’ve never even heard of these?

"Yeah. Most of them are about magical healing techniques. Some are linked to my Alchemistry ability too."

"And what does that have to do with my world?" I asked, frowning, curiosity piqued.

Her expression shifted—casual one second, serious the next.

"Unlike your world, Olam is ruled by a group called the Constellation—a pantheon of outer gods, beings so immense that even the sky itself can’t contain them."

I opened my mouth to respond, but she lifted a hand to stop me, eyes narrowing.

"But you probably don’t need to know too much about that right now."

"Oh, I see," I said, holding back a sigh.

Honestly, this sounded like a conspiracy thread on Reddit. Bizarre, overwritten, but addictively compelling.

"They’re Primordial beings," she continued, despite just saying she wouldn’t. "Firstborns of existence—wielding divine powers beyond what any mortal or race in Olam can comprehend."

Wait. Didn’t she just say she wouldn’t explain any further?

And hold on... she’s been saying ’Olam’ a lot, hasn’t she? Why is it even called that?

"Because this world’s magical origin traces back to those gods. That’s why it’s called Olam—a realm of sorcery, governed by the divine. In this world, magic isn’t a gift. It’s a law."

"In fact, here, everyone is expected to use magic. Those who can’t? They’re ostracized."

"Are there actual cases of that?" I asked, trying not to sound too invested.

"Plenty," she replied. "People who failed to wield magic were exiled—dumped on unnamed islands by the International Magic Association."

"But soon after, those exiles rose up. Formed their own nation. Rumor has it they even secured diplomatic relations—benefiting smaller kingdoms that lacked manpower but had magic to trade."

She leaned slightly forward.

"And yes. They were all pure humans. No magical bloodlines. But the ones who led them? Families of ancient prestige. Like the Lovecrafts."

That name stopped me.

"Wait. Lovecraft?"

She nodded.

"Isn’t there someone famous with that name in your world?"

Oh. That.

"I mean... yeah. H.P. Lovecraft."

"What about him?"

"Was he a magician too? Like them?"

I paused. That was... hard to explain.

In my world, the concept of mages is just a myth. Maybe once upon a time there were a few people labeled witches or warlocks, but most believe it’s all fantasy. In fact, healers were often mistaken for witches—branded, hunted, and executed just for knowing how to mix herbs.

"No. He was just a horror novelist."

"Hm... interesting." Her tone dropped an octave. "Kairi, don’t you think it’s strange?"

"What is?"

"What if our worlds... are actually connected?"

Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?

But deep down, I knew. The more she spoke, the more threads began weaving together into something I wasn’t ready to face.

If these scriptures really did come from my world...

Then maybe—just maybe—we’ve never been separate to begin with.

But she had a point.

If this world could only be accessed when she sleeps... then is this a dream world?

"A dream, huh..." she muttered, almost tasting the word with her tongue.

"Kairi, have you ever heard the myth of the angel race?"

Angel... as a race?

"I mean, I’ve heard of angels, sure. But not like... as a species."

"In Olam, it’s a common tale. Unlike demons who operate openly, the angel race tends to remain hidden."

"Their existence is dismissed as folklore. But many claim to have seen them. Firsthand."

"But no one believes them?"

She nodded slowly.

"Some think they’re just monsters. Others believe they’re a failed evolution of humanity."

Interesting... This felt less like world history and more like forbidden theology.

But it was too much for now. Too many mysteries. And I had more pressing concerns.

"Okay, so what now?"

"Purpose and backstory, Kairi."

Ugh. That again.

I sighed. There’s no getting out of this.

"The purpose of this secret council is to uncover the mysteries of Olam. To study the origins of the Primordial creatures, understand the auras that reside in monsters, and learn how to harness them."

Selene nodded slightly. "Alright. Decent enough. Now... what’s the background?"

The background, huh...

If this were a Lovecraft story, the catalyst would be some ancient tragedy.

"The disappearance of Ferry Eryndell Veylith."

Selene froze.

"You trying to get yourself killed?" she snapped, voice sharper than a scalpel.

"No. Just listen."

She visibly restrained her anger. Barely.

"Okay. Go on."

"It all started from that event. Even the reason you summoned me here—wasn’t it tied to that?"

"You’re wrong."

"Huh?"

"Just because something started from an incident doesn’t mean the incident caused everything. Your thinking is too shallow—"

BONK.

I flicked her forehead.

"That’s for mocking me, babe."

"Oww... my love, I was just saying you were mis—hey!"

I licked her ear.

She twitched. "Stop... enough!"

"Why?"

"I wasn’t finished talking, you know."

Her face turned cold again. But behind that expression, I could sense it—something deeper. Something darker she wasn’t saying.

"Think carefully, Kairi. The true background behind this secret council."

And that was it.

I knew what it was. What could justify all this. What could give our gathering purpose.

Something buried. Something forbidden.

Something... that no one should possess.

"Alright. I know now."

"That’s enough," she cut in.

"I didn’t even say what it was yet."

"But I’ve already guessed."

I went quiet. She went quiet. And between us, in the silent void, echoed names that were never meant to be spoken.