Night had descended upon Aetherial Institute.
The academy's towering buildings stood beneath a sky filled with stars.
Moonlight spilled across stone pathways.
Students gradually returned to their dormitories.
The island slowly grew quiet.
Yet inside one dormitory room.
A lamp remained lit.
Kel sat before his desk.
Stacks of papers surrounded him.
Rumors.
Witness statements.
Historical notes.
Copies of records.
A mountain of information.
Or more accurately—
A mountain of nonsense.
Inside his mind.
Seiren floated lazily.
"Remind me again."
A pause.
"Why are we reading fifty different versions of the same story?"
Kel didn't even look up.
"Because somewhere among fifty lies."
A pause.
"There may be one truth."
The Guardian sighed.
"Humans are exhausting."
"They are."
The silver-haired youth continued reviewing documents.
Fortunately.
He wasn't working alone.
Earlier that day.
Students from the Aedon Study Society had delivered dozens of reports.
Each report contained rumors.
Witness statements.
Family legends.
Stories told by grandparents.
Tales from fishermen.
Tales from sailors.
Tales from merchants.
Tales from drunkards.
And surprisingly.
Many of those categories overlapped.
Inside his mind.
Seiren raised a hand dramatically.
"I officially request compensation for this work."
Kel glanced upward.
"Compensation?"
"I spent all day organizing rumors."
The Guardian pointed toward an imaginary mountain.
"Do you know how many ridiculous stories I had to memorize?"
Kel smiled faintly.
"Thank you."
The Guardian froze.
Then immediately looked suspicious.
"Wait."
A pause.
"That was too easy."
Kel ignored her.
Earlier.
He had instructed Seiren to create an imaginary archive within their telepathic connection.
A mental filing system.
Every rumor.
Every statement.
Every location.
Every name.
Stored carefully.
Allowing Kel to review them efficiently.
The method worked surprisingly well.
Though Seiren complained the entire time.
Hours passed.
One document after another disappeared from the review pile.
Then something interesting happened.
Patterns emerged.
The more stories Kel reviewed.
The more common points appeared.
Certain details repeated.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Not enough to confirm.
But enough to suggest.
The silver-haired youth finally leaned back.
His eyes closed.
His thoughts organized themselves.
Inside his mind.
Seiren immediately noticed.
"You found something."
"Perhaps."
The Guardian straightened.
Finally.
Something interesting.
Kel stood.
Walking toward the window.
Moonlight illuminated his silver hair.
The ocean shimmered beyond the academy island.
The distant sea looked peaceful.
Deceptively peaceful.
He spoke quietly.
Not to Seiren.
To himself.
Organizing thoughts.
Building a narrative.
A possible truth.
One constructed from dozens of lies.
"A noble family."
The Guardian listened.
"Two daughters."
A pause.
"An older sister."
"And a younger sister."
The sea breeze drifted through the window.
Kel continued.
"The elder daughter married a nobleman."
"The younger daughter loved a fisherman."
Seiren nodded.
Those details appeared repeatedly.
Across many rumors.
The exact names changed.
The details changed.
Yet those elements remained.
Kel continued.
"The younger sister's relationship with the fisherman appears genuine."
"Very genuine."
The Guardian listened quietly.
The silver-haired youth turned another page.
Examining notes.
Then continued.
"At some point."
"The fisherman discovers something."
Silence.
The room seemed colder.
The mystery finally approaching shape.
"The younger sister was having an affair."
"A secret affair."
Seiren frowned.
"With whom?"
Kel pointed toward another report.
One report among dozens.
Yet supported indirectly by others.
"The elder sister's husband."
Silence.
The Guardian blinked.
Then blinked again.
The situation suddenly became much uglier.
Kel nodded.
Exactly.
Ugly.
Messy.
Human.
Not the kind of story legends preferred.
The kind history preferred.
A pause.
Then he continued.
"The fisherman discovers the affair."
"Discovers the younger sister is pregnant."
"Discovers the child isn't his."
The room fell silent.
Even Seiren stopped joking.
Because suddenly.
Everything felt real.
Painfully real.
The silver-haired youth looked toward the moonlit sea.
Then spoke.
"The fisherman confronts them."
"The confrontation escalates."
A pause.
Then another.
"Someone ends up in the ocean."
Inside his mind.
Seiren whispered.
"The fisherman?"
Kel nodded slowly.
"Most likely."
Not certain.
But likely.
The Guardian stared at the scattered notes.
Then suddenly understood.
"The witness."
Kel smiled faintly.
"Exactly."
Many rumors mentioned another fisherman.
A witness.
Someone who saw something.
Not everything.
But enough.
Enough for gossip.
Enough for rumors.
Enough for stories.
The silver-haired youth continued.
"That witness spreads the story."
"Naturally."
"People talk."
"They always do."
Seiren nodded.
People truly did.
Far too much.
Kel turned another page.
Then sighed.
The next part hurt.
Even secondhand.
"The elder sister learns the truth."
Silence.
"The husband she loved."
"The younger sister she loved."
"Both betrayed her."
The room became completely still.
Outside.
The waves continued crashing against distant cliffs.
Inside.
Only silence remained.
The silver-haired youth closed his eyes.
Because this part.
This part appeared everywhere.
Not the details.
Not the affair.
Not the pregnancy.
But the grief.
Every version remembered the grief.
The sorrow.
The heartbreak.
The loneliness.
Those details survived every retelling.
Which made them feel real.
Very real.
Seiren finally spoke.
Softly.
"She died."
Kel nodded.
"Most likely."
A pause.
"Not because someone killed her."
"Because her heart broke."
The Guardian looked toward the moonlit ocean.
Suddenly.
The tragedy felt far more believable than any monster story.
No curses.
No sea demons.
No supernatural revenge.
Just people.
Making terrible choices.
Destroying one another.
The oldest story in existence.
After several moments.
Seiren asked quietly.
"Then how did it become a monster legend?"
Kel smiled.
A cold smile.
A thoughtful smile.
The smile of an investigator approaching something important.
"That's the interesting question."
The Guardian frowned.
Because he was right.
If this version was true.
Then someone deliberately changed it.
Rewrote it.
Transformed it.
From tragedy.
Into mythology.
From human betrayal.
Into sea monsters.
From heartbreak.
Into legends.
Why?
Who benefited?
And most importantly—
What were they hiding?
Kel looked toward the ocean.
The same ocean connected to Leviathans.
The same ocean connected to the observer Seiren sensed.
The same ocean connected to ancient secrets.
His golden eyes narrowed slightly.
The tragedy was likely real.
But it wasn't the whole story.
Not even close.
And somewhere.
Hidden beneath centuries of rumors.
Beneath lies.
Beneath legends.
Beneath fabricated myths.
The real answer still waited.
Patiently.
Like something sleeping beneath dark waters.
Waiting for someone to finally uncover the truth.