Chapter 196: Notes, Names, and New Clues

Kane ran his fingers along the jagged edges where pages should have been. The cuts were clean but irregular, like someone had torn them out in a hurry rather than carefully removing them.

"That’s weird." He flipped through the remaining pages, counting. At least six or seven pages were missing from what should have been the appendix section.

This was just some human-written mythology book—nothing classified or valuable.

Kane shrugged, chalking it up to vandalism by bored young spirits who probably found the terrible dragon illustrations offensive.

He was about to close the book when something fluttered to the floor.

A small piece of folded parchment, yellowed with age.

Kane bent to retrieve it, unfolding the note carefully.

The writing was cramped and hurried, covered in symbols that looked like absolute gibberish at first glance—swooping curves and angular slashes that hurt his eyes to follow.

Kane stared at the strange symbols, his brain struggling to process the unfamiliar script. The curves and slashes gradually became more familiar as he focused.

Ancient Draconic.

He’d barely scraped by in his language elective during training, but some of the letters looked familiar.

He squinted at the parchment, tracing each symbol with his finger and mouthing the sounds under his breath.

"E-tur..." He paused, recognizing the flowing mark that represented ’nal.’ "Eternal?"

His pulse quickened. That word had appeared in Elias’s locked files.

Kane continued working through the script, his pronunciation clumsy but determined. "God... Crystal?"

The Eternal God Crystal. The same project Genesis file Rina couldn’t access.

Kane’s hands trembled slightly as he held the note. Someone had left this note in a random mythology book.

But why ancient Draconic?

Very few spirits could read ancient Draconic, and even fewer could write it.

The BSA had maybe three fluent instructors, and they were all ancient spirits who predated the fall of the Spirit Realm.

The parchment hummed faintly against his fingertips, and Kane felt a subtle warmth spreading through his hands.

The ink seemed to shimmer slightly in the library’s lighting, as if it still held traces of enchantment.

This note had to be incredibly old. Maybe written by actual dragons when they still existed.

Kane traced the symbols again, feeling that strange warmth pulse stronger. The ink wasn’t just aged—it was infused with something. Dragon magic, perhaps.

His mind raced. This couldn’t be coincidence.

First Elias’s locked file about the Eternal God Crystal, and now this note mentioning the same artifact, hidden in a book about dragons.

Dragons were connected to the Crystal somehow. But how? The dragons had been extinct for centuries, long before Elias started his sick experiments.

Kane carefully folded the parchment and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He needed to show this to Cyrus.

If anyone could read ancient Draconic fluently, it would be the last dragon alive.

Kane studied the book more carefully, trying to piece together what was missing. He flipped to the table of contents, running his finger down the Chapter listings.

Chapter 1: Origins and Ancient Lore

Chapter 2: Dragon Hierarchies and Clans

Chapter 3: Powers and Abilities

Chapter 4: The Great Disappearance

Chapter 5: Modern Interpretations

Appendix A: Regional Variations

Appendix B: Documented Sightings

Appendix C: Sacred Artifacts and Relics

Kane flipped to where Appendix C should have been. Gone. The pages had been torn out cleanly, leaving only jagged edges.

He checked the publication date—1987. Ancient by human standards, but recent enough that this wasn’t some medieval manuscript.

Kane skimmed through the remaining text, searching for any mention of the Eternal God Crystal.

The writing was exactly what he’d expected from a human mythology book—filled with wild speculation and completely inaccurate descriptions of dragon anatomy.

The author seemed convinced dragons hoarded gold because of "an innate greed that consumed their noble hearts." Kane snorted. Cyrus would probably set the book on fire just for that line.

There was nothing here about crystals, shards, or ancient artifacts. Just the usual human fantasies about treasure-hoarding beasts.

So why had someone specifically removed the appendix about sacred artifacts?

Kane tucked the damaged book under his arm. Someone had definitely been looking for something—or hiding it.

He glanced at his watch. Nearly four o’clock. The mystery had distracted him.

Kane headed toward the back of the library, where a discrete door marked "Restricted Access—BSA Personnel Only" sat between two towering bookcases.

He swiped his badge, and the lock clicked open.

The restricted section felt different from the main library—cooler, quieter, with that sterile government building smell replacing the comfortable mustiness of old books. Motion sensors activated dim lighting as Kane stepped inside.

These shelves held the real archives: classified incident reports, containment protocols for dangerous spirits, and research on abilities too rare or volatile for public documentation.

Most of the BSA archives could be accessed through the computers now, but Kane knew these physical records were much older.

Even though he wasn’t the brightest BSA trainee with a photographic memory, he’d spent enough time crawling through these dusty shelves to know that certain documents weren’t digitized.

If there was anywhere that had records of phasing abilities, it would be here.

Kane searched high and low through the classification system. The older filing cabinets were organized by spirit type first, then by ability manifestation.

He found a few that were close—spirits with molecular manipulation, matter displacement, and temporary intangibility—but not exactly what he was looking for.

A water spirit who could briefly turn liquid. A mountain spirit that could merge with stone. Even a fascinating case about a rabbit spirit who could hop between dimensions, but only during full moons.

None of them matched the precise molecular phasing that Elias’s team had demonstrated.

The ability to pass through solid matter while maintaining complete physical form was apparently rarer than Kane had hoped.

Kane pulled out file after file, his nine tails swishing with growing frustration. Every lead seemed to dead-end into either extinct spirit lines or abilities, so theoretically they bordered on myth.

His phone buzzed against his hip.

Cyrus:

I’m in the parking lot. Ready to pick you up whenever you are.

Kane glanced at the time—nearly six o’clock. Cyrus had been waiting for him for an hour.

On my way.