Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

The return of the names began with the most recent employees.

Elion brought the Index to the center of the first section, keeping it suspended inside three containment circles. The book no longer possessed authority to command the Black Archive, but it still recognized every record, body, and object stored there. Whenever one of the employees was brought close, a line appeared between their chest and one of the pages opened across the tables.

The problem was that some lines divided.

"This one has three compatible records," Elion said.

In front of her, a young man remained seated inside a protective circle. He breathed normally, but his eyes did not react to light. Three books floated before him, each describing parts of his life.

The first contained his childhood, family, and origin.

The second recorded his years working in the archive.

The third contained only fears, dreams, and small personal decisions.

Hadriam examined the pages.

"Why did they divide the name?"

Oren remained trapped inside a separate circle, with his arms, legs, and neck immobilized by purple chains.

"Efficiency," he replied. "An employee does not need to carry his childhood to organize documents. Nor does he need dreams to obey."

Kael looked at him.

"You removed the parts you considered useless."

"I preserved those parts."

"In different books."

"They continued to exist."

Kael approached the circle.

"A person is not a pile of parts you can store on different shelves."

Oren tilted his head.

"All of you do the same. You forget pain to keep living. You hide desires to fulfill duties. You abandon old names when you receive titles."

"We choose."

The answer silenced Oren.

Kael turned toward Elion.

"Return all three records together."

"The channels may reject the quantity."

"Then we do it slowly."

Sylphie placed her hands over the employee’s shoulders. Thin roots crossed the floor and wrapped around the circle, not to restrain the man, but to support his body during reintegration. Elion opened the first book.

The name appeared for only an instant.

Tomas Arlen.

The letters left the page like golden threads and entered through the center of the employee’s chest. His body reacted immediately. His fingers closed, his breathing accelerated, and tears began flowing from his still-empty eyes.

The second record opened.

Years of repeated movements passed through his body. Tomas tried to raise one hand, as though searching for a quill. He murmured numbers, sectors, and old orders.

When Elion prepared to open the third, Oren spoke.

"That one should remain separate."

Kael looked at him.

"Why?"

"It was removed voluntarily."

Elion examined the cover.

"There is a signature."

Hadriam approached.

"Tomas’s own?"

"Yes."

Kael observed the man inside the circle. The record of dreams and fears had not been stolen. Tomas had asked for it to be removed.

"Can you wake him with the first two?" Kael asked.

"Perhaps."

Sylphie kept the natural energy stable while Elion closed the third volume. Several minutes later, Tomas’s eyes regained their color. He drew in a breath, looked around, and tried to retreat from the roots.

"Calm down," Kael said. "You are safe."

Tomas stared at his face without recognizing him. Then he saw Oren.

Fear appeared immediately.

"The Archivist."

"He no longer possesses authority," Hadriam said.

Tomas looked at the emperor and tried to kneel. His legs failed.

"Do not move," Hadriam ordered. "I need you to answer a question. Did you ask for part of your name to be removed?"

The man took time to understand.

"My dreams."

"Why?"

Tomas began trembling.

"I saw the people inside the vessels. I heard the names being erased. I started dreaming about them every night."

Kael looked toward the third book.

"And the fears?"

"They came with them. The Archivist said I could continue working without them."

"Did you understand what would happen?"

"I knew I would lose the nightmares."

"You did not know you would also lose the ability to choose to leave," Kael said.

Tomas lowered his eyes.

Oren did not contest it.

Kael picked up the third book, but did not open it.

"This part remains yours. When you have recovered, you will decide whether you want it back. This time, with every consequence explained."

Tomas looked at him.

"I can choose?"

"It is the minimum."

The other employees required different approaches. Twenty-seven possessed complete records and were restored without major difficulty. Sixteen had parts divided among several books. Six had allowed specific removals, although none understood that the removed parts would be used to make them more obedient. The remainder carried names so fragmented that more time would be needed to reconstruct them.

A woman named Nara recovered her identity, but did not recognize her husband, who had died thirty years earlier. One man woke speaking a language used before the foundation of the current Human Empire. Two employees discovered they had worked inside the Black Archive for more than a century without aging, trapped in memory cycles that restarted whenever they asked too many questions.

Hadriam followed every case.

At first, he remained silent, watching the healers and researchers. Then he began reading the imperial orders found on the tables. Some belonged to his father. Others to his grandfather. Many were even older.

Confiscation authorized.

Bloodline hostile to the Crown.

Memory considered dangerous.

Identity removed to preserve stability.

The emperor closed one of the documents with enough force to tear part of its cover.

Hela, who had descended to help remove the employees, approached.

"It was not you."

"It was my Crown."

"You cannot answer for everyone who used the throne."

Hadriam looked toward the empty bodies.

"But I can answer for what the throne does now."

Kael heard him, but did not interfere. That belonged to Hadriam. The emperor needed to decide what he would do with the archive, the confiscated records, and the history built upon them.

The restoration of the forty-first employee revealed the first serious problem.

The corresponding book opened normally. The name appeared on the page. However, when Elion began the transfer, the line did not move toward the body.

It descended through the floor.

Kael caught the book before it disappeared between the stones.

"Another index?"

Elion passed the instrument over the line.

"No. An external copy."

Oren closed his eyes.

Kael turned toward him.

"Explain."

"Some names were considered too important to exist in only one place."

"You duplicated them."

"I created redundancy."

The employee inside the circle began to convulse. The part of the name attached to the book tried to return, but the external copy pulled in the opposite direction.

Sylphie reinforced the roots.

"If this continues, the two parts may tear him apart."

Kael knelt beside the book and held the golden line.

The sensation differed from the connections of the Well. There was no command, blood, or domination. Only a written order declaring that the name belonged to two records simultaneously.

"Can you follow the copy?" Amelia asked.

Kael closed his eyes.

The line crossed the Black Archive, passed through the Index, and disappeared in a direction without distance. The same shadowless plain appeared in his mind for an instant.

The white tower.

"The First Archive."

Oren opened his eyes.

"Release it."

"Why?"

"Because it will realize you are touching the record."

"It already possesses a volume about me. I assume it noticed my presence."

"You do not understand. The First Archive does not store copies. It decides which version is original."

Kael looked toward the employee.

"Then while the name remains registered there, this man will never fully belong to himself."

"He belongs to the record."

"That phrase is becoming tiresome."

Kael wrapped the line in scarlet mana.

Oren pulled against the chains.

"Do not burn it."

"I will not."

Kael synchronized his own body as he had against the Archivist. However, instead of sustaining continuous movement, he used Celestial Step to follow the connection without moving his body. His intention traveled along the golden line, crossing the nonexistent distance between the archives.

For less than one second, he saw the interior of the white tower.

Endless shelves.

Pages floating beneath a clear sky.

And a figure seated before a long table.

He could not see the face.

The figure raised a quill.

The record before it began to change.

The employee inside the circle stopped breathing.

Kael tightened his hold on the line.

"No."

The word crossed the connection.

The quill stopped.

An ageless voice answered from somewhere beyond the archive:

"Contestation received."

Kael felt crushing pressure strike his mind.

It was not a direct attack. It was a search. The First Archive was trying to find the authority that allowed Kael to contest the classification.

King of Witches.

Imperial Executor.

Heavenly Sun.

No title was accepted.

The pressure increased.

Kael looked toward the employee.

"He is not yours."

The voice answered:

"Primary record predates consent."

"Then the record is invalid."

The quill began moving again.

"Consent was not required at the time of cataloging."

"It is now."

The employee opened his eyes inside the circle. He still did not possess his complete name, but he heard the discussion through the connection.

"I do not want to remain there."

The golden line trembled.

The quill stopped for the second time.

Kael felt something change inside the First Archive. Not doubt. A contradiction the structure could not resolve. The record claimed ownership of the name. The body to whom that name belonged rejected that ownership.

"Removal request not recognized," the voice said.

Kael smiled.

"Then learn."

He did not cut the line.

He held the name and pulled.

The white tower resisted. The floor of the Black Archive cracked beneath his knees, and the channels in his chest began burning again. Sylphie placed both hands against his back, supporting his circulation. Umbra wrapped the line in shadow, preventing it from escaping. Eleonor froze the space around the book.

The employee screamed.

The external copy began crossing the connection.

It did not emerge as letters or mana. It came as a white sheet, folding over itself while crossing the distance between the archives. A hand tried to seize it from the other side.

Kael saw only fingers covered in ink.

He pulled harder.

The page crossed.

The connection broke.

Kael fell backward, caught by Sylphie. The white sheet landed over the open book and merged with the original record.

The complete name appeared.

Lucien Marek.

Elion immediately began the reintegration. The golden line entered the employee’s chest. Lucien arched his body, drew in a breath, and opened his eyes.

This time, no connection remained inside the floor.

Amelia approached Kael.

"You just removed a record from the First Archive."

"One."

"The Archivist said it was impossible."

Kael looked toward Oren.

"He says many things."

The former Archivist watched Lucien as though he had witnessed a natural law being broken.

"It allowed it."

"No."

Oren shook his head.

"The First Archive does not lose records. If the page crossed, it was because the contestation produced enough value to be analyzed."

Kael slowly stood.

"Does that change the result?"

"It changes what it will do next."

As though responding to the statement, the black Index opened on its own.

The pages turned until they reached Kael’s personal entry. The previous sentence had vanished.

A new line was written:

Kael Scarlet: unclassified contesting authority.

Below it, another appeared.

In-person correction required.

Amelia read over his shoulder.

"That looks like a summons."

"It is."

Sylphie tightened her hand around Kael’s arm.

"Not today."

"I know."

She examined his face, searching for signs of a lie.

Kael pointed toward the employees still awaiting restoration.

"There are seventeen people here. If any others possess copies inside the First Archive, we will remove all of them before entering that tower."

Oren released a quiet laugh.

"Every removed name will increase the response."

"Good."

"You do not understand what you are provoking."

Kael approached the circle.

"I understand exactly."

He pointed toward Lucien, who was crying while repeating his own name.

"You turned people into information because you believed no one could contest the record."

Kael looked toward the image of the white tower engraved in the Index.

"Now someone can."

The restoration resumed.

Two hours later, they found another external copy.

Then a third.

On the fourth, the First Archive did not respond with a hand.

It responded by closing the page.

Kael opened it again.

On the fifth, it tried to replace the name with a number.

Kael forced the body to say its own name aloud until the record recognized the contradiction.

On the sixth, a message appeared:

Persistence recorded.

Kael responded by writing beneath it with his own hand:

Good.

Amelia saw it and took the quill away from him.

"Do not provoke an ancient structure while we are restoring victims."

"It started."

"You wrote in its book."

"It wrote in mine first."

When the final employee regained consciousness, the Black Archive looked different. The candles still burned, the shelves remained full, and thousands of objects still awaited identification, but there were no longer empty people sitting before the tables.

Fifty-eight names had returned.

Eight records had been torn from the First Archive.

Hadriam gathered the restored employees in the entrance hall. Some could not stand. Others clung to the books that still contained parts removed voluntarily, unsure whether they wanted those pieces back.

The emperor stood before them without a crown.

"The Black Archive will be closed," he declared. "Not to hide what happened, but to prevent further abuses while every record is investigated. None of you will work here again. You will receive protection, treatment, and the opportunity to choose what to do with the parts of your lives that remain stored."

A woman raised her hand.

"And the names of the people who are already dead?"

Hadriam looked toward the shelves.

"They will also be returned to their families whenever possible. When that is not possible, they will be preserved together with the truth of what happened."

Kael observed the emperor. That would not erase centuries of confiscation, but it was a better beginning than sealing the door again and pretending the archive did not exist.

Eleonor closed the Index inside an imperial containment box. Oren was taken away under the joint supervision of Violet and Hela. No page, book, or artifact left the location without being recorded.

Kael was the last to leave.

Before crossing the door, he looked toward the far end of the corridor. The shelves seemed ordinary now, but he knew the First Archive continued watching through the connected records.

A loose page slid across the floor and stopped in front of his boot.

Kael picked it up.

There was only one sentence:

Correction scheduled for the next sunrise.

Sylphie read beside him.

"That is not a summons."

"No."

Beneath the first line, new words began appearing.

The tower will go to the contesting authority.

Kael folded the page.

Amelia, waiting on the other side of the door, saw his expression.

"What?"

Kael handed her the paper.

She read it and slowly released her breath.

"Can you not go one day without making an ancient structure come after you?"

"I remained still almost the entire time."

Umbra emerged from the door’s shadow.

"It is true. This time, he provoked it while sitting."

Sylphie held Kael’s hand.

"How long until sunrise?"

Hadriam looked toward the corridor leading to the surface.

"Three hours."

Kael stared at the black door while its thousands of pages began closing.

The First Archive possessed nine active projects, thousands of stolen names, and a volume dedicated to him.

Now it was also coming to the imperial palace.

Kael looked toward Amelia.

"Evacuate the lower levels. Prepare containment around the Black Archive, but do not close the entrance."

"You want to allow the tower to cross?"

"I want to choose where it arrives."

He turned toward Hadriam.

"Does your palace have a courtyard you would not mind losing?"

The emperor remained silent for several seconds.

"How many?"

Kael smiled.

"Now you are learning."

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