The repulsive force which pushed Nero back was so strong that it nearly knocked him on the ground. Bael, who ran in right behind Nero was also pushed back, and looked forward in confusion and panic.
Beyond the door there seemed like another room, but the view of it was blocked by a wall. There were clearly paths going around the wall, which meant the sole purpose of the wall was to block the view.
There was no time to consider why the wall was there, or what the room was hiding. Nero could tell the only reason he was pushed back was because he was carrying Silas, so he put the teenager down.
A part of him recognised that depending on what he found in that room, this might be the last time he saw Silas and Bael, and that death might be around the corner. Somehow, despite that realisation, a lifetime of training himself to maintain mental clarity prevented him from letting fear and desperation take over.
"Whoever arranged this meeting was a real smart ass," Nero said to Bael as he looked through Silas' backpack and found what he was looking for - the book he was sent to retrieve.
"Pray that I find something useful in there."
"What are you doing?" Bael asked, not understanding the reason behind Nero's actions. He had been pushed back just like Bael himself. Yet a moment later he was stunned when he saw Nero successfully running through the door as he slipped the book into his backpack!
His heart felt like it dropped to his stomach as he finally understood. Since Nero was the one who opened the door, he was the only one who could go through it.
A loud, sudden crack attracted his attention, and when he looked back, he saw drops of blood starting to drop down from a crack in the ice wall. The blood pool had reached them. Bael could feel the cold embrace of death, ready to bring him into its embrace, and at that moment, Bael forgot everything.
He forgot his worship of his father, his grudge against his own ability, his defeat at the hands of Nero. He forgot the humiliation he felt when Nero beat him, even though he was told to expect it. He forgot his 'friends' who whispered things in his ears, inciting him towards bullying others, not understanding that everything he did and showed was a facade arranged by Unity.
He even forgot the expectations of his father.
The only thing Bael felt at that moment was regret. He was not strong enough, and if he hadn't been so stubborn, and truly taken every single opportunity to get stronger, maybe he wouldn't be in this situation.
Come to think of it, wasn't that how his father described Nero?
Nero, meanwhile, had emptied his mind of all unnecessary distractions, his breath steady but his heart racing with the adrenaline of survival. The only thing he allowed himself to feel was urgency, keeping his mind otherwise clear, ready to grip at any opportunity for survival.
As he searched for anything that could give him hope, trying to see through the fog, Nero was especially aware of his surroundings.
The temperature was cool, almost unnaturally so, as the fog swirled around his body. This would not have normally attracted his attention, except that Nero was normally immune to low temperatures.
This chamber, unlike the previous ones, was smaller and more intimate, yet it exuded a grandeur that spoke of its deep purpose.
Three ornate pillars lined the circular walls, towering to the ceiling, each carved with delicate, abstract symbols. They were crafted from an ancient stone, smooth and polished, but veined with gold. At the base of each pillar, intricate designs weaved together, forming a pattern that pulled his gaze toward the centre of the room.
The fog obscured his vision, so he stepped closer to see what secrets the chamber held. In the very heart of the chamber stood a plinth, illuminated by a single beam of cold, silver light that seemed to fall from nowhere. The plinth itself was carved from black marble, its surface so glossy it looked like an endless void.
Hovering above it was a single card floating in place, rotating slowly as though suspended by unseen threads. The text on the card was the same, unknown language of the Eldrim that Nero could not recognise, which is why he focused on the image printed on it.
A sleek black silhouette stood out, like a ribbon or some elongated object, its form abstract yet deliberate. Near the base of this figure, there was a small circle, almost like an eye or a focal point, subtle yet commanding attention.
The card was giving off a silverish glow that bore too strong a resemblance to the silver moonlight he recently saw for it to be a coincidence.
The whole chamber, Nero realised, seemed to draw all attention toward the card. Every detail of the room guided his eye to that central point. It was as if the designer of the room was afraid that whoever entered might fail to notice the card - as if that was even possible.
Approaching the card, Nero felt, should require some kind of ceremony, if only because of the majesty it exuded. But Nero wasn't exactly in a ceremonial mood. There was no other path forward, which meant the last of Nero's hopes rested with this card.
It was odd that for some unknown reason, the aura that the card gave off was faintly familiar. Given the urgency of the situation, he did not pause to ponder, and instead reached out for the card.
What if it was some unranked card that could rescue them from their dire straits? But the moment Nero touched the card, it shattered into countless motes of light that were absorbed into his fingers.
Nero was stunned, and almost felt like he had been played a prank on from across the ages. As if, hundreds or thousands of years ago, someone had set this stage as an elaborate prank. But his attention was immediately drawn to a change Nero felt within his own aether.
He sensed his aether, to see if there was something wrong, and then noticed the most bizarre thing he had come across yet.
Like a video sent directly into his mind, he saw the travelling motes of light surround his innate card within his chest, covering it like a projection. They converged, and the strange card he had seen in this very chamber reappeared. Except that it was covering his innate card, almost as if it had replaced it!
Nero was not one to panic, but in that moment he almost panicked. The threat of death was not enough to stir his heart, but the loss of his innate ability nearly sent his thoughts into a fray.
Yet, almost as if sentient, the card communicated with him, and Nero realised what was going on. His innate ability was not replaced. Instead… instead he had somehow…
Nero suddenly felt out of breath as his mind tried to wrap itself around the information he was learning. He almost wondered if he was going crazy!
He had not lost his previous innate ability, but rather he had gained another one! They both could not exist at the same time, yet he could switch between them as he wished.
He tried to change it, and he saw the projection of light around his Cryoflame innate card vanish, revealing the innate card he had grown to love! He tried using his flames, and they worked exactly as he expected.
Then he tried to summon forth his second innate ability. It was not instantaneous, taking up a few seconds, but the projection of light covered his innate card once more, and the flames in Nero's hands extinguished.
Nero gulped, and focused on the card, and was awestruck as he realised that he could read that strange, foreign language as if he had known it his entire life.
The name of the card was Virtuous Moonlight.
As soon as he read the name of the card, as if the chamber could sense his very thoughts, streaks of silver lights travelled down from the plinth, through the patterns on the ground, and into the three pillars, lighting up the room in holy light.
The fog did not vanish, yet its obstruction seemed to affect Nero no more. He felt like he was in the gaze of something… of someone vastly more powerful than he could ever imagine, and he, or she, was judging him.
Nero felt the light travel through his body, as if reading every experience the body had ever had, judging his worthiness. The aether around him swirled as if it was wind, and then began to enter into his body, directly travelling to the illusory Virtuous Moonlight in his chest, slowly making it more solid.
Outside, the silver moon slowly lost its lustre, returning to its mundane, former state.