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Chapter 2: Old artifact

Alex, got all his books in the bag, grabbed it, and,

With all the subtlety he could muster, Alex raised his hand and addressed the teacher.

"Excuse me. Can I go to the restroom, please?"

It was a standard request, something Alex would have gotten away with every other day of the week.

But today was different.

The teacher narrowed her eyes at the boy, then noticed the bag.

"With your bag, Alex?" she asked.

'...damnit'

Alex could now hear Emilys laugh.

As soon as the teacher continued and turned around to the board,

Alex sneakily escaped,

a move he knew he would pay for dearly, tommorow.

As he walked home, he felt the sun on his face, and a strangely cool breeze.

He reached his home, a humble house within a neighborhood, its exterior,

clearly worn out, with paint that was once vibrant, and colorful, but now peeled and faded.

However, for some reason, Alex liked the neglectful look of the exposed concrete.

Alex lived alone, well on paper with his grandmother, but she was not around.

Alex stepped in, bookshelves lined the walls, their shelves almost breaking

under the preassure of countless old books, giving the scent of old, aging pages.

Sunlight poured in through the windows.

Alex made himself something to eat, and descended to his basement.

His gaming setup, while not extravagant, gave him enough of a distraction.

Soon the passage of time became irrelevant.

Night descended on the house, casting long shadows that stretched through the hall.

It was midnight when Alex finished playing.

He was hungry, so he wanted to eat something upstairs, and finally go to sleep.

As he ascended the stairs, the worn out steps let out ominous creaks.

Alex aimed for the kitchen, but his eyes were drawn to a specific step on the worn staircase.

Something that annoyed him for a long time now, but he couldnt ingore it anymore.

That one specific step, creaks slightly more than the others.

Alex stopped.

kneeling down, he took a closer look at the step.

His fingertips traced the rough surface, and only now, that his eyes are this close to it,

he could see something slightly shimmering.

The air slighly changed around alex, and he could feel a slight breeze.

'huh?'

Alex started to disassemble the step.

He brought a screwdriver, with a worn out handle, and felt a subtle resistance as he

began to loosen the rusted screws.

The wooden plank finally lifted, revealing a hollow recess beneath.

With cautious hands, Alex reached inside, feeling a chill down his spine,

as his fingertips brushed againts a smooth surface.

His pulse quickened, a mix of curiosity and confusion, in his mind.

He grabbed the object, pulled it out.

What appears to be an old journal was sitting on top of the strange object.

The object took the shape of a distant star, its surface tarnished and worn.

at the center of the object, a single, unblinking, cat like eye stared at alex, filled with unsettling

sinister intent.

He had never seen anything like that.

but he did hear a description similar to this object once.

When he was around 8, he was taken to an old temple, where an old man, according to his parents,

checked his aura, and Alex remembers that as the old man put his hand on Alexs forehead,

he immediately opened his eyes wide in a terrified expression, calling his parents to his private chamber.

Later that day, Alex overheard a conversation between his mother and his father.

It was a heated debate.

Something along the lines of never letting Alex near it, and to pass it down to someone else instead.

Because Alex is corrupted, and cannot be trusted with it.

Alex grabbed the old journal.

Despite being small, very old, and plain looking, with hard empty black cover,

Alex couldnt help but feel somehow respectful of the journal, it looked as if

it was of service to countless people.

he opened the first page:

$!#%!'s journal

status: deceased

final rank: condemned

'huh?, whoever this guy/girl is, it seems whoever wrote the journal, doesnt like them'

Alex fliped page after page, but all of them were empty, until the final page,

which also somehow seemed to be the oldest page of all, yellow and almost crumbling.

written in obsidian black, faded ink:

"To access the dimension beyond,

a worthy soul must dare to gaze upon the eye of the unknown.

But beware, for in those fleeting seconds of connection, the

boundaries between worlds will blur, and the price exacted may

surpass all comprehension"


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