Night had fallen, wrapping the library in a heavy blanket of silence. The grand halls stood empty and closed to the public, their towering shelves like silent sentinels guarding forgotten knowledge. Only one guard moved through the shadows, his torch casting flickering golden light that danced across the spines of ancient tomes. He walked slowly from aisle to aisle, inspecting every corner with practiced routine.
He reached the ancient history section and paused, leaning against the cool stone wall with a tired sigh.
"Don't know why I do this every night..." he muttered in a low tone. "Nothing ever goes wrong."
He turned away and continued walking.
Then—a soft thud. A book hitting the ground.
He stopped dead. Turned back, torch raised higher. Heart picking up pace, he moved cautiously into the aisle, the flame sweeping across shelves and floor, ears straining for any other sound.
There it was: a thick volume lying open on the stone tiles.
"What brought you down here?" he muttered, crouching to pick it up. He straightened, stretching to slide the book back into its place on the high shelf.
He pointed the torch forward, scanning the darkness. "Weird..."
As he turned to leave, a cloaked figure stood directly in front of him.
"What are you—"
His scream tore through the library, echoing off the high ceilings and long corridors. The aisle they stood in suddenly glowed with an unnatural, brilliant light.
Day broke under a pale sky. A crowd had gathered outside the library, murmuring with uneasy tension that rippled through the air like static before a storm. A glowing golden seal now adorned the heavy doors, its intricate runes shimmering—warning that no unauthorized person could enter.
Inside, golden scouts moved with disciplined precision, spreading through every section. The Golden Guardian stood motionless in the ancient history aisle, staring at a stone statue frozen in place. It looked exactly like the night guard: mouth wide open in mid-scream, eyes bulging with raw fright, every detail horrifyingly lifelike.
"Third statue found..." she said in a low, measured tone. "This is far beyond a coincidence."
She reached out, fingers tracing the statue's face—its wide eyes, bared teeth, the frozen terror etched into every line. "Looks too real," she whispered, voice barely carrying.
A scout approached and stood at attention. "Miss Golden Guardian, I've something you need to see."
She turned to him calmly. "What is it?"
He opened a small ledger. A portrait of the guard stared back from the top right corner.
"Miss Golden Guardian... this is a picture of the statue. It's a real person—a guard who worked here in the library."
Shock flashed beneath her mask, though her posture remained composed.
Later, in the towering Golden Tower, the Golden Guardian sat at her desk, three portraits of the petrified victims laid out before her—two men and one woman.
She stared at them intently. "Three statues of people in the past week... or three people turned into statues," she whispered. "Caused by a Flow, obviously. But why?"
A scout entered and stood at attention. "Ma'am, you sent for me?"
She looked up, gathered the pictures, and held them out. "Can you please find out how these three are related?"
"Okay, ma'am." He took the images and left.
The Golden Guardian continued staring at the portraits, mind turning.
Ethan strolled into the room with his usual easy confidence. "Hi, Debra..."
She looked up, removed her mask, and fixed him with an annoyed glare. "Would it kill you to call me the Golden Guardian?"
Ethan smiled widely. "Yes, it could."
She shook her head. "I don't have time for your problems. I have important stuff to do."
Ethan walked closer and peered at the pictures. "I see the Golden Globe finally has something going on." He studied one closely. "Wait a minute... I know her."
The Golden Guardian's eyes sharpened. "You do?"
"Yeah," he said. "She's a friend of mine. Works at the museum."
She regarded him curiously. "Ethan... let's have a visit to the museum."
They left the Golden Tower together.
The Museum of Eternal Echoes rose like a monument to the past—its grand façade a blend of ancient stonework and elegant golden filigree, with towering columns carved to resemble intertwined roots and branches reaching toward the sky. Massive arched windows allowed filtered sunlight to spill inside, while intricate reliefs depicting legendary battles and divine ascensions adorned the exterior walls. Inside, the atmosphere was one of hushed reverence mixed with quiet wonder. High vaulted ceilings soared overhead, supported by pillars of polished marble veined with shimmering ore that caught the light like captured stars. Wide, echoing hallways branched into grand exhibition halls, their floors tiled in geometric patterns of deep obsidian and warm sandstone.
The air carried a faint scent of aged parchment, polished wood, and subtle incense burned to preserve the relics. Soft, focused lighting—magical orbs floating gently—highlighted each display while casting dramatic shadows that made the artifacts feel almost alive. In one hall, towering statues of the gods stood high and mighty on raised pedestals, their replica artifacts gleaming under protective glass domes. Visitors moved in small, respectful groups, following knowledgeable guides who spoke in calm, storytelling tones about forgotten eras and heroic deeds. Children pointed excitedly at massive skeletal remains of extinct beasts, while scholars scribbled notes near illuminated manuscripts. Whispers and soft footsteps created a constant, gentle hum—awed gasps at particularly striking pieces, quiet conversations comparing legends, the occasional delighted laugh from a family discovering a interactive rune display. The entire place felt timeless: a sanctuary where history breathed, where the line between past and present blurred in the soft glow and reverent silence.
The Golden Guardian stood before a statue in the extinct animal display section, staring at it with calm intensity. "It's exactly like the one in the library... Obviously caused by the same person," she whispered.
Ethan walked up beside her. "Oh Debra... yeah, seeing Merra like that really hurts. But what exactly are we doing in the museum?"
"Look at the scene and her stance," she replied evenly. "It's obvious she struggled with whoever did this. What exactly is her Flow?"
"Uhmmm... it's Earth."
"Earth," she repeated softly.
She walked calmly through the hall, eyes scanning every detail with razor focus—every corner, every displaced leaf or faint mark on the floor. She bent down near a cluster of preserved foliage and carefully picked up a small scrap of cloth caught among the leaves.
She approached Ethan and held it out. "Anytime someone panics, they make mistakes."
Ethan looked surprised. "How did you—"
She cut in smoothly. "Her Flow is Earth. For no reason, mud is spilled close to the leaves there. And her stance suggests she sent an attack toward someone in that angle... which also means she must've been attacked from behind. This was done by two people."
Ethan stared at her, clearly impressed.
Carol—a slim, tall brown-skinned girl with long gray hair and calm brown eyes—approached them with a warm smile. "Hi guys..."
They turned. "Sorry I'm late," she said. "It's my crazy younger brother's birthday today and things got a little wild."
The Golden Guardian laughed softly. "No need to explain. What matters is that you're here."
She tossed the piece of cloth to Carol, who caught it effortlessly. Carol raised it, studying it calmly. Her eyes suddenly glowed with a vibrant rainbow pattern.
Ethan leaned close to the Golden Guardian and whispered, "So you called Carol in advance because you were expecting to find something."
"Yeah," she replied simply.
Carol's Flow of Sight allowed her to perceive things hidden from ordinary eyes—traps, poisons, lingering Flow patterns.
"So...?" the Golden Guardian asked.
Carol lowered her hand, eyes returning to normal. "The person who wore this has a Flow of mist." She moved behind the statue, stared at it, and her eyes glowed rainbow once more. "As for the statue itself... it's caused by a Flow I've never seen before. It's Earth Flow, but on a completely different level. I'd call this Cement Flow. Pretty sure it's the first of its kind."
The Golden Guardian and Ethan stared at her, speechless.
Back in the Golden Tower, the Golden Guardian sat still in her chair while Ethan paced back and forth restlessly.
"Someone going around turning people into statues... and with a rare Flow. Why?" Ethan asked.
The Golden Guardian opened her mouth to respond when the scout from earlier entered.
"Excuse me, Golden Guardian."
Both focused on him.
"I've done as you asked, ma'am. The three turned to statues have no obvious social relationship... but all of them worked at a place relating to history."
The words landed like a thunderclap.
"History," the Golden Guardian whispered. "Uhm... please call for me Carol and Cain," she said aloud.
The scout saluted and left.
"Debra... why do you need Carol and Cain?" Ethan asked.
"You'll see," she replied.
They waited in tense silence for a short while.
Soon Carol returned, accompanied by Cain—a tall, muscular fair-skinned man with striking blue eyes and blonde hair.
"You sent for us, Golden Guardian?" Cain asked.
The Golden Guardian leaned forward, her voice steady and commanding. "I'll inform the Elders later. I want the four of us to find out who—or what—is causing all this. The statues... and whatever motive they may have. I don't want the public to panic, so this investigation stays strictly between the Elders and the four of us"
The words hung heavily in the air. Ethan, Cain, and Carol exchanged glances, each understanding that trouble likely lay ahead. Still, they set their minds to face it.
TO BE CONTINUED.