The marble floor of the Alexandria Archive felt colder as the afternoon sun began its slow descent, casting long, distorted shadows between the towering bookshelves. Celine's departure had left a lingering tension in the air, her warning about the SIT and the history of the Five Kingdoms vibrating in Julian's mind like a struck tuning fork.
Ryon slumped into a mahogany chair, his bare feet still stinging slightly from the cold floor of the Medical Annex earlier that day. "Alright," he sighed, looking at the massive, dust-caked volumes surrounding them. "Creepy girl says the children's version is a lie. Where do we start if we want the version that actually explains why we're here?"
Yuri didn't answer immediately. She was already moving toward the back of the "Restricted Historical Reference" section, her eyes scanning the spines with a intensity that suggested she was looking for a specific kind of truth. After a few moments, she pulled down a heavy, leather-bound book that looked as though it hadn't been touched in a decade. The gold leaf on the cover was flaking, but the title was still legible: The Genesis of the Crown: A Comprehensive History of the UKA.
"This is it," she whispered, bringing it back to the table. "This isn't the primary school version. This is the official record of the Western Continent."
Julian pulled his chair closer. They huddled over the book, the heavy silence of the Sunday archive pressing in on them as they flipped past the frontispiece to the first chapter.
The history they found was far bloodier than the clean, technological rise they had been taught in their youth. Twenty-five years ago, the Western Continent—the land that now belonged entirely to the UKA—had been a fractured landscape of constant conflict. It was divided into three warring powers: Soria, Dxeus, and Wiston.
"I've never even heard of Soria or Dxeus," Ryon muttered.
"That's because they were erased," Julian said, his eyes tracking the text.
The records described a brutal era known as the "War of Three Kings." It was a conflict of attrition that lasted nearly a decade, fueled by the desire for territorial dominance. In the end, the Kingdom of Wiston emerged victorious. Under the command of George Wiston VI, the Wiston armies didn't just defeat their neighbors; they colonized them.
The book described the birth of the "Great Kingdom of Wiston" not as an era of peace, but as one of absolute subjugation. To maintain his grip on the vast new territories, George VI implemented a system of colonization that bordered on systemic erasure. Resources were funneled back to the Wiston capital, leaving the former citizens of Soria and Dxeus to suffer through state-sanctioned starvation and slavery.
"They turned the entire continent into a labor camp," Yuri whispered, her hand tightening on the edge of the table. "No wonder people started to rebel."
The records shifted toward a darker, more chaotic period. Desperate and dying, various regions began to rise up against the Wiston crown. For years, these rebellions were disorganized and easily crushed by the King's iron-fisted military. But twelve years ago, everything changed.
A man appeared in the heart of the most desolate provinces. The book didn't give him a name—at least not yet—referring to him only as "The Leader of the Red Shadows." He didn't offer the people weapons; he offered them hope. He spoke of a world where the lines of the past were burned away.
Under his leadership, the scattered rebellions unified into a singular, unstoppable force. They moved like a wildfire across the continent, dismantling the Wiston infrastructure until they reached the capital itself.
The description of the final siege was vivid and terrifying. The revolutionaries didn't just capture the castle; they burned it to the ground. George Wiston VI, the last of the colonizing kings, was dragged from his throne and executed in front of the people he had spent a lifetime oppressing.
"The rebellion didn't just win," Julian noted, pointing to a passage describing the aftermath. "They made him their King."
The new King's first act was one of total cultural destruction. He ordered the Wiston flag to be burned in every town square. He destroyed the previous laws, the old curricula, and even the traditional religious structures of the three former kingdoms. He wanted a tabula rasa—a blank slate.
"He stabilized the kingdom by deleting its history," Yuri realized.
He renamed the unified territory the "United Kingdom of America" (UKA) and established a new era based on the principles of Technology and Science.
"So the UKA isn't some ancient, stable democracy," Ryon said, leaning back as the weight of the information settled. "It's a twelve-year-old revolutionary state built on the ashes of a colonized continent. And the 'King' Celine mentioned... he's the one who led the rebellion."
Julian looked up from the book. The vibrant, golden light that had filled the archive earlier had faded into a deep, bruised purple. The sun was almost down, its final rays catching the glass arches of the ceiling and casting the library into a murky, amber gloom.
"We've been here for hours," Ryon said, rubbing his eyes and standing up to stretch. His 'Unknown' mark gave a final, tired flicker before dimming.
"We have enough for now," Yuri agreed, gently closing the heavy ledger. The sound of the cover meeting the pages echoed like a gavel in the silent hall. "Celine was right. The books the government gives the public don't mention the 'War of Three Kings' or the execution of George VI. They just say the UKA 'emerged' to stabilize the Kingdom."
Julian stood as well, his mind racing with the implications. The King was a revolutionary leader who had executed the previous monarch and erased an entire continent's culture.
"Let's go back," Julian said quietly, glancing toward the shadows where Celine had stood earlier. "If tomorrow really is when the 'real world starts,' we need to be ready for more than just a lecture".
They walked out of the archive in a tight formation, their footsteps echoing through the empty halls. Outside, the Aurelian Spire was beginning to glow with a soft, artificial light, a beacon of progress that now felt to Julian like a warning. They headed toward their rooms in silence.