Just Extra

The broken ice kept melting around them. Water gathered on the smooth floor. It flowed in small streams toward the underground river. The sound of running water was strangely calm after the heavy silence of the illusion room. It was a reminder that the normal world still existed beyond the mind torture they had just survived.

Minerva and Naviga stood facing each other. Neither spoke for a long time. Their eyes met briefly before both looked away. An unspoken understanding passed between them. Whatever they had gone through in the mirrors, whatever fears or secrets the illusions had made them face, those things would stay private. Some truths were too personal to share, even between people who trusted each other completely.

Naviga understood this without being told. She had faced the ghosts of Joseph's past. She had been forced to deal with the weight of her previous life's wrongs and her fears about failing to protect her young lady. Those memories and fears were hers alone to carry. If she ever decided to share them, it would be when she chose to, in her own time. She would not burden Lady Minerva with knowledge of a past life and a secret existence that the young heir did not need to know about.

For her part, Minerva felt a similar hesitation. The illusions had shown her deepest insecurities. They had made her face her feelings about Naviga with a clearness she usually tried to avoid. Yes, she cared for her maid. Yes, that care had grown into something deeper and more complicated than the simple bond between mistress and servant. But admitting those feelings, saying them out loud, felt dangerous in ways she could not fully explain.

Pride played a part, of course. She was the heir to the Medure family. She came from seventh galaxy powerhouses. The expectations placed on her were huge. Showing weakness or vulnerability went against everything she had been taught about leadership and strength. If Naviga knew she had cried in the illusion, had almost broken under the weight of fear and self-doubt, would that change how her maid saw her? Minerva told herself the answer was no, that Naviga would never look down on her for such human reactions. But the small voice of insecurity whispered otherwise, and she was not ready to risk finding out.

So they stood in silence. Two people who had just survived separate hells. They chose to respect each other's privacy rather than demanding explanations or confessions. It was a grown-up decision, perhaps. But it was also a painful one. The distance between what they felt and what they could say seemed to grow wider in that moment.

Finally, Naviga broke the silence with a practical observation. "The mirrors are completely destroyed, Miss. Whatever magic controlled this place has been broken."

"Yes," Minerva agreed. She was thankful for the return to normal things. "We should look around this area before we go on. There might be something useful here. Some clue about who made this trap and why."

They both put away their weapons. They stored Black Death and Scorching Tyrant in their storage rings. The absence of the blades felt strange after holding them so tightly during the ordeal. But it also brought a feeling of relief. The immediate danger had passed. They could allow themselves to relax a little, though not let their guard down completely.

Naviga moved carefully through the melting remains. Her sharp eyes looked for anything that might have been hidden under or within the magical ice. Most of what she found was ordinary. Pieces of ice that were already turning to water. Smooth floor sections that showed no special features. Empty spaces where mirrors had stood. The room was surprisingly bare once stripped of its illusions. It was just another carved room in the endless maze of this dungeon.

But then something caught her attention. A flash of metal barely visible under a larger piece of melting ice. It was near where the central mirror had stood. Naviga knelt down. She brushed away the quickly dissolving pieces to show a small metal cylinder. It was about the length of her hand and half as wide. It was made of some dark metal mix that looked almost black in the dim light. The surface was covered in detailed runes. They were carved so small and close together that they almost looked like a solid pattern rather than separate symbols.

"Miss, I found something," Naviga called out. She carefully pulled the cylinder from its icy prison. The metal was cold to the touch but not freezing. It felt surprisingly heavy for its size. The weight spoke of quality materials and careful workmanship.

Minerva joined her right away. She crouched down to look at the find. Her eyes widened as she traced the runes with one finger. She did not quite touch the metal. "These are preservation formations," she said quietly. "Very advanced ones. Whoever made this container wanted to make sure that whatever is inside would survive extreme conditions."

"Can you open it, Miss?" Naviga asked.

Minerva studied the cylinder more carefully. She looked for a seam or opening device. She found it after a moment. It was a subtle twist-lock design that needed exact use of essence to work. She sent a thread of her fire essence into the right points. With a soft click, the cylinder split along its length. It showed a hollow inside.

Inside, protected from time and magic and the weather, was a single piece of paper. It was old, yellowed with age, but still whole thanks to the preservation formations. The paper had been folded carefully to fit within the cylinder's narrow space. Naviga lifted it out with gentle fingers. She was careful of its weakness despite the magical protection.

She unfolded the paper slowly. It showed tight handwriting that covered both sides of the page. The writing was squeezed and hurried in places. It was as if the writer had been racing against time or working in hard conditions. Some parts were neat and orderly. Others showed signs of stress. Letters grew more jagged. Words were sometimes crossed out and written again.

"It looks like a journal entry," Naviga said. She angled the paper so both she and Minerva could read it. "Or maybe part of a research log."

They read together. Their heads were close as they worked through the old writing style and occasional technical words. The text began with a date note using a calendar system neither of them knew. This suggested the entry had been written long ago or in a region far from their current location.

"Day 847 of the Void Material Research Project," the entry began. "I am writing this in the desperate hope that if the worst happens, someone will find this record and understand what took place here. My name is Aldric Venn, Official Magus of the Fourth Essence Core. I was formerly in service to the Sapphire Tower Academy until circumstances forced me to leave."

Naviga and Minerva exchanged looks. A fourth essence core cultivator was powerful by the standards of the first galaxy. Such a person would have been respected and feared in most regions. Yet this Aldric had been forced to run from his academy and work in secret. The meanings were troubling.

The entry continued: "I have been hired by a benefactor who wishes to stay unknown. They want me to do research into a material of extraordinary origin. Specifically, the skin tissue of what my employer calls a void beast. When I first received the sample, I thought the claim was exaggeration or fake. Void beasts are creatures of legend, terrors from beyond our reality. That someone had gotten actual tissue from such a being seemed impossible."

"But after examination, I had to accept the truth. The sample shows properties that cannot be explained by any known creature native to the Seven Sky Universe. It gives off an essence signature that is basically incompatible with our natural laws. It fights all forms of analysis I can do. Most disturbing, it seems to actively eat other forms of essence that touch it. It is as if the very substance of reality is hateful to its existence."

Minerva's face grew troubled as she read. "This confirms what we thought. The void beast skin in the laboratory was real, not some clever copy."

Naviga nodded. She felt the weight of that confirmation. In her ring, safely stored away, was a piece of something that should not exist in their universe. Something that went against the basic laws of reality. The responsibility of carrying such an object felt suddenly much heavier.

The journal entry went on to describe months of failed experiments. Aldric had tried to study the void beast skin using every method and tool he had. But the material fought all normal analysis. Regular instruments failed or broke when brought into contact with it. Essence-based scanning techniques were absorbed and canceled. Even simple watching proved difficult. The skin seemed to twist perception in small ways that made correct measurements nearly impossible.

"My benefactor grows impatient," Aldric wrote in a part dated several months later. "They demand results. They demand practical uses of this research. But how can one use something that cannot be understood? The void beast skin is not just powerful. It is basically foreign to everything we know about cultivation and essence manipulation."

"Still, I have made one important discovery. The material, while hostile to normal essence, seems to work with spatial essence specifically. This makes a certain natural sense. Void beasts exist in the absolute emptiness between universes. They are in spaces where normal reality does not apply. Spatial essence, which controls the manipulation of distance and dimension, appears to be the one form of power the material recognizes as compatible with its nature."

This part included detailed notes about experimental methods that Naviga and Minerva could barely follow. The technical words were beyond their current level of knowledge. They were references to formations and essence manipulation techniques they had never come across. But the general idea was clear. Aldric had been trying to find a way to use the void beast skin's power through spatial essence.

The writing grew more frantic in the later parts. "My benefactor has given new instructions. They want me to try to create what they call a 'Void-Attuned Proxy Core.' The idea is both brilliant and crazy. Rather than trying to directly cultivate the foreign essence of the void beast skin, one would instead make an artificial core that acts as a go-between. It would translate between void power and normal essence. This proxy core could in theory allow a cultivator to use void-like abilities without poisoning their natural cultivation."

"I have shared my worries about the dangers of such an experiment. Creating artificial cores is risky under the best circumstances. Trying to create one attuned to void essence, using materials that actively fight joining with our reality, seems like asking for disaster. But my benefactor is determined. And I admit the intellectual challenge interests me despite my doubts."

Minerva's hands tightened on the edge of the paper. "They were trying to create a way for people to use void beast power. That is madness. Even if it worked, the risks would be huge."

"I agree, Miss," Naviga said quietly. "But someone powerful enough to get void beast skin in the first place would not be easily turned away by concerns about risk."

The final part of the journal entry was written in handwriting so shaky and rushed that it was hard to read. Clearly, Aldric had been writing under extreme pressure.

"Day 863. The experiment has failed terribly. I write this in the short time before the containment formations fall apart completely. My assistant, Vera, is dead. The proxy core became unstable during the final joining phase. It created a localized spatial tear that cut her body in half before I could react. The void essence is leaking from the damaged core. It is poisoning the laboratory. I can feel it eating away at the surrounding essence. It is creating dead zones where cultivation is impossible."

"I have managed to seal the core pieces and the remaining void beast skin samples in containment vessels. But I do not know how long they will hold. The spatial tear is still active, though held back by emergency formations I activated at great cost to my cultivation base. This whole facility must be left behind. I will set off the ice labyrinth defenses to stop anyone from accidentally walking into the poisoned areas."

"Most troubling is the understanding I have come to in these final moments. The research commission, the unknown benefactor, the specific instructions I was given. None of it was random or purely for learning. Someone wanted this research done for a specific purpose. The techniques I was told to use, the particular setups I was told to try, all of it suggests that my benefactor had detailed knowledge of void manipulation that I myself lack."

"I suspect now that I was just a tool. An expendable researcher given the job of doing dangerous experiments for someone or some group with far darker plans than simple learning inquiry. But who they are and what they finally plan, I cannot say. I only know that they must have resources and knowledge far beyond what should exist in the lower galaxies."

The entry ended there. The final words trailed off as if Aldric had been interrupted mid-thought. Below the main text, written in even shakier handwriting as if added as an afterthought, was a single line that sent chills down Naviga's spine.

"To whoever finds this—beware the Phantom Cult. They are not what they seem."

Naviga and Minerva read that final line three times. It was as if repetition might somehow make its meanings less disturbing. The Phantom Cult. The same organization that had sent assassins after Minerva. That had been chasing them since before the attack that opened their recent adventures. This mysterious group had not just targeted the Medure family. They had been involved in research into void beasts. They were trying to create weapons or techniques using power from beyond reality itself.

"This changes everything," Minerva said quietly. She carefully took the paper from Naviga's hands and stored it in her own ring. "The Phantom Cult is not just a criminal organization or a group of hired killers. They have access to knowledge and resources that should not exist. They are doing research that threatens the basic nature of our reality."

"And they are still after you, Miss," Naviga added. "The question is why. What do you have or represent that makes you valuable enough to risk the attention of the Medure family?"

Neither of them had an answer to that question. They stood in the melting remains of the illusionary room. They held knowledge that felt far too heavy for their current level of cultivation to carry.

"We should leave this place," Naviga said finally. "We have learned what we can here. Staying serves no purpose except to give any watchers more time to find us."

Minerva nodded slowly. But her mind was clearly racing through the meanings of what they had discovered. "When we return to civilization, we must report this to Aunt Minasa and to my mother. This information is too important to keep to ourselves. The Phantom Cult's activities represent a threat not just to our family but possibly to the whole first galaxy or beyond."

They made their way out of the room. They followed the path the melting ice showed. The underground river was waiting for them. It flowed peacefully as if nothing had happened. As if two young cultivators had not just faced their deepest fears and uncovered proof of a plot that spanned who knows how many years and how many galaxies.

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