The more Ayaan walked toward the massive mansion, the denser the prana in the air became. It felt heavy against his skin, pressing down on him with every step he took. Together, he and Finn Rivers entered the front doors, and the interior proved to be just as gargantuan as it looked from the outside.
The ground floor opened up into a sprawling living hall. It was furnished much like any ordinary home, featuring a massive television mounted on the wall and shelves lined with countless books. Yet, despite the familiar layout, the room felt profoundly distinct due to the numerous detailed statues of eagles placed carefully in every corner.
"Let's go to my office and talk, Ayaan. There is something I need to show you and tell you," Finn Rivers said, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space.
Without waiting for a reply, the elder man turned and began walking up the grand staircase. Ayaan quickly followed behind him, his mind racing with questions.
Just how powerful is this man to project such a dense aura of prana, and how unimaginably rich do you have to be to own a place like this? Ayaan thought to himself.
But as he climbed the steps, a sudden realisation pulled him out of his thoughts. His senses had completely stopped working. He could no longer hear the ambient sounds of the house, he couldn't smell the wood or the air, and a strange, absolute numbness took over his body.
Meanwhile, across the city in Ayaan's apartment, Sunidhi was standing in the kitchen, carefully examining the damaged doorframe. The wood was visibly warped and dented inward. The moment she reached out and pressed her fingers against the fracture to inspect the depth of the damage, she pulled her hand back in surprise. The wood was radiating a distinct, localised heat.
"Huh? Why the hell is it hot?" Sunidhi muttered to herself, staring at the frame in total bewilderment, trying to figure out what kind of stunt her brother had pulled this time.
Ayaan finally stepped through the doorway into the elder man's private office. To his surprise, the room was minimally decorated, lacking the extravagant luxury he had expected from a billionaire. As his eyes scanned the space, the most prominent items he noticed were numerous sheets of yellow paper scattered around, each covered in strange, handwritten symbols from an unknown language.
"Take a seat, Ayaan. Let's talk," Finn Rivers said, gesturing toward a comfortable sofa on the side of the room. They both sat down opposite each other.
The older man leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "Now, I know you have a lot of questions brewing in your mind right now, Ayaan. I will try my best to answer most of them. But first, tell me this: the sound... the sound of the city, what did it actually sound like?"
The moment the question left Finn's mouth, Ayaan's eyes widened in sheer shock. He stared at the billionaire in total bewilderment, as if he were looking at a ghost.
"H... how do you know about that city, sir?" Ayaan stammered, his voice tight. "I honestly thought it was merely an illusion born from the exhaustion of my training."
Hearing his response, a small, knowing smile played on Finn Rivers' face.
"Everything you saw in that state is real, Ayaan. Everything exists right here in this world; we simply don't possess the sensory means to see it normally. Now tell me, what was the sound of the city like?"
Ayaan swallowed hard. To answer the question, he closed his eyes, forcing his mind to recall the auditory memory of that mysterious place. But the very instant his eyelids shut, the physical world vanished. The sofa beneath him seemed to drift away into absolute nothingness.
Suddenly, Ayaan found himself standing directly in front of the ancient city once more. The sound immediately rushed into his ears—the exact same sequence as before, starting as a beautiful, haunting melody before violently shifting into an ear-piercingly high frequency. Everything around him was identical to his first visit: the grand buildings, the unique architecture, and the vast sky remained completely unchanged.
However, if he had looked closely toward the very top of the structure, he would have spotted the same cheerful young man who had welcomed him during his first arrival. The man still maintained his signature, pleasant smile, but his eyes were no longer normal; they were actively swirling with a brilliant golden light.
A sharp sensation of physical contact snapped Ayaan back to reality. He felt the soft, premium leather of the sofa beneath him. He slowly opened his eyes, unaware that his own pupils were now swirling with that exact same brilliant golden light.
Seeing the golden hue in the young man's gaze, Finn Rivers smiled deeply. "Tell me, Ayaan... the sound you heard in the city, how was it?"
Ayaan took a breath and carefully explained the sequence of events. He described the shifting melody that echoed through the air when he first set foot on the stairs, and he explicitly mentioned the cheerful young man he had encountered upon reaching the very top.
The moment the words "cheerful young man" left Ayaan's lips, the billionaire's calm demeanor vanished. Finn immediately stood up from the sofa, his movements frantic as he darted toward a heavy storage cupboard across the room. He began tearing through the shelves, searching for something with visible urgency. Ayaan, who had been sitting comfortably, shifted uncomfortably, startled by the older man's sudden burst of panic.
After a few moments of frantic searching, Finn finally pulled a specific item from the depths of the cupboard. He brought it over, revealing a crumpled, yellowed sheet of paper with noticeably torn and tattered edges. To any ordinary observer, the artifact looked incredibly old, its surface so worn that deciphering its contents seemed nearly impossible.
But when Finn turned the paper around to show him the image captured upon it, Ayaan froze, completely unsure of how to react.
Despite the ancient, damaged state of the parchment, the photograph embedded within the fibers was perfectly clear, carrying the sharp quality of a brand-new image taken just yesterday. The photo depicted a young man with long hair neatly tied back, a confident smile resting on his features. Yet, despite the pleasant smile, his eyes looked entirely cold and detached. In his hand, he held a sleek, pitch-black sword. But the most striking feature on the figure was his forehead—there was a large, polished gem physically etched directly into his skin.
"Is this the exact same man you met inside the city, Ayaan?" Finn Rivers asked, his sharp gaze locked onto Ayaan's face, watching for any micro-reaction.
"I don't know for sure, sir," Ayaan said honestly, leaning closer to inspect the paper. He reached out, pointing directly at the forehead of the figure. "The man I met definitely shares the exact same face as this person, but his forehead didn't have the gem that is shown here in this photo."
"Hmm. I see," Finn murmured, his mind working rapidly. "Did the man say anything directly to you?"
"Yes," Ayaan nodded, recalling the parting words. "He told me something along the lines of, 'Next time, don't just enter the city, but free it as well.'"
Muttering Ayaan's words under his breath, Finn Rivers turned and walked slowly back toward his large office desk. He pulled open the top drawer and reached inside, retrieving a small, polished stone that glinted under the room's lighting. The artifact was a deep, mesmerising blue colour.
The moment the object was brought into the open air, Ayaan instinctively took a sharp step back. The stone was radiating an incredibly dense aura of prana, emitting a soft, pulsing blue light that illuminated the dim corners of the office. And as the stone emerged, the sensory numbness that had paralysed Ayaan's body suddenly shattered.
Sound rushed back into his ears, but it wasn't the sound of the room. It was a deep, low resonance echoing directly from the blue stone itself. It sounded exactly like the churning depths of a vast ocean—a perfect, unmistakable match to the heavy weight he had heard when he felt himself drowning in the sea of souls.