Jack Night stood in the eerie, damp chamber. The jade statue was cool and smooth in his hand. Three choices shimred before his internal vision.
Circlet of Control. Monocle of Truth. Compass of Desire.
He weighed them. As if they were physical objects on a scale.
The Circlet of Control was a hard pass. He didn't know whether it was a circlet that controlled the wearer. Or one that allowed the wearer to control others.
The Monocle of Truth, while tempting, felt redundant. His [Eyes of Judgent] already granted him ability to appraise things.
Sure, a monocle might offer different, perhaps finer, details. But it was not one that filled a critical gap in his arsenal. He needed sothing that truly expanded his capabilities. Not just refined an existing one.
That left the Compass of Desire. He mulled over his earlier concerns. Uncontrollable force versus conscious influence.
Well, if he could consciously influenced the 'desire' here, it would be good. If it defaulted to his deepest, unrealized yearning... that wasn't bad either. At least it would make him know what he desired.
'Compass of Desire!' He decided.
The jade statue in his right hand glowed.
The glow left the statue and swirled around his other hand. Before it condensed into a single, compact object. When the light faded, a compass lay in his left palm.
It was roughly the size of his palm. Crafted from what appeared to be polished, dark petrified wood. With intricate markings etched onto its surface.
The face was made of a clear, crystalline substance. Almost like solidified moonlight. Through which he could see a single, slender needle of burnished copper.
It wasn't just an ordinary compass. It felt ancient and magical. Emitting a quiet energy.
He brought it closer. Activating his [Eyes of Judgent] to examine its details.
[Compass of Desire. An ancient, partially sentient compass that resonates with the deepest or most consciously focused desires of its wielder. When activated by holding it and focusing on a specific desire, its copper needle will spin rapidly before settling to point in the direction of the physical manifestation, source, or closest path towards fulfilling that desire. The strength of the desire and the clarity of the focus determine the accuracy and range of its guidance.]
Jack grinned. "Perfect." It was exactly what he hoped for.
He dropped the jade statue that now seed lifeless. And absorbed the compass into his body. All of his personal artifacts could be drawn and stored inside his body.
He then turned to Reina, who had been patiently observing him. A soft, expectant look was on her face. Her long black hair seed to absorb the dim light of the chamber. Making her features stand out even more.
"Love!" He said. Extending a hand to her. "Ti to go ho."
It had already past midnight. The once a day requirent for his teleportation artifact had reset. With a simple thought, he activated his [Nine-Anchor Portal Ring]. Choosing the anchor that he set in their ho.
He took Reina's hand. And stepped through the portal.
In an instant, the dank, crypt-like air of the Undead Legion's chamber was gone. Replaced by the familiar, slight floral scent of their Lonestone City ho.
They were in the main hall of the two-story house Jack had purchased. Moonlight filtered through the stained-glass windows. Painting soft patterns on the tiled floor.
...
Life in Lonestone City settled back into a comfortable routine for Jack and Reina. Jack continued his multiple-faceted life. By day, he was Jack Night, the Steamrune Engineer, and Racer Jack, the Kamaitachi Speedster.
He designed and created chanical objects. As well as racing through the bustling streets of Lonestone. Being a nosy, chatterbox, vigilante hero.
By night, he transford into Jack Mystery. The Mysterious Specter. He haunted the dreams of the guilty. Weaving terrible nightmares as punishnts. For the truly worthy, he offered respite. Visions of peace and future contentnt.
...
Several days later, an uneventful afternoon shifted.
Jack was patrolling the Academy District. A more refined part of Lonestone known for its universities and libraries. And of course for him... the house of the Lingreen twins. But it was not his destination this ti. He rely bypassed it.
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He was in his Racer Jack form. Zipping between buildings is a speed so fast that many could only see a blur. Or nothing at all.
Suddenly, two faces caught his eye. They were familiar. Distinctive. And carried an almost obvious aura of destiny.
Chloe Chase. Her vibrant youthful energy was unmistakable. Even from a distance. And Leon Drake. With his calm and confident deanor.
The inheritor of Webmother's Fortune and Cloudfather's Fate. The two young protagonist-like characters he had encountered twice. Back on Tideless Island.
He had helped them out of a couple of sticky situations. And their paths had intertwined in unexpected ways. What were they doing in Lonestone?
Curiosity, one thing that actually killed Jack in the beginning, imdiately took hold. He switched to a less conspicuous, higher-altitude flight path. Maintaining a safe distance. And began to tail them.
They moved with a purpose. Occasionally glancing at sothing Chloe held in her hand. Possibly a map or directions.
They navigated the elegant, tree-lined streets of the Academy District. Eventually coming to a stop before a large, three-story house. One made of dark stone and ivy.
A sign near the ornate iron gate read... 'Dr. Paul Kingsley, Archeological Research'.
Leon Drake knocked on the door. And an old man opened it. It was Dr. Crafton. The archaeology professor. Chloe's ntor. Jack rembered him. These three had been involved with the ill-fated expedition to the ancient ruins on Tideless Island. Twice. This was getting interesting.
Jack made a ntal note of the house's location. Continuing his patrol for a bit longer. Before returning ho to continue his steamrune work as Jack Night.
That night, Jack decided to investigate further. He left their house in his specter form. Invisible to the naked eye. A transparent ripple in the night air.
He drifted silently through the streets. Reaching Dr. Kingsley's residence without incident. A place where Dr. Crafton, Leon Drake, and Chloe Chase stayed.
He slipped through a closed windowpane as if it were never there. Entering the silent house. He could hear voices from downstairs. He floated down the grand staircase.
The voices led him to a large study. Filled with overflowing bookshelves. Maps tacked to the walls. And a large, cluttered wooden table at its center.
Around the table, a group was gathered. Chloe and Leon were there, as expected. Dr. Crafton was poring over an old, yellowed scroll. His spectacles perched precariously on his nose.
But there were four other people Jack didn't recognize. Two n and two won.
They were still wide awake. Despite the late hour. Their faces were illuminated by the soft glow of a few oil lamps. Their conversation was hushed but intense.
Jack floated closer. Unseen and unheard. Positioning himself near a large globe. Perfect for eavesdropping.
"…and that's why Danochande, the Underlake Temple, remains such an enigma." Dr. Crafton was saying. Tapping the scroll with a bony finger. "The ancient texts I've managed to decipher only give us its general location. Its true purpose, its builders, its origins… they are shrouded in multiple conflicting legends."
He paused, adjusting his spectacles. "So theories suggest it's a forgotten shrine to the Old Gods. A place of unspeakable power predating the Elrush Kingdom itself. Others claim it's a vault, built by an ancient, aquatic race to house their treasures or perhaps even a weapon."
He again adjusted his spectacles. "There's also the tantalizing, though less substantiated, theory that it's a magical academy, swallowed by the lake during a magical catastrophe. And, of course, the most outlandish, yet persistent, whispers of it being a dinsional gate, a link to another world."
He sighed. Running a hand through his thinning hair. "The truth is, we don't know which, if any, is correct. That's why we must go there. To study it, to uncover its secrets."
Leon nodded. His brow furrowed in thought. "So, you believe this ancient text truly points to its location?"
"Absolutely." Dr. Crafton affird. Tapping the scroll again. "The intricate star charts and geographical markers, while obscure, align perfectly with the lake known as Lake Trishade, deep in the Grandrock region. This expedition is crucial. It could rewrite our understanding of this continent's history."
Jack listened, filing away the na: Danochande, the Underlake Temple. Lake Trishade. Grandrock region. An expedition?
He remained silent. Observing the four new faces. He needed to know who these people were. Before deciding if this expedition was sothing he needed to interfere with.
He activated his [Eyes of Judgent]. Focusing on each of the unfamiliar individuals in turn.
First, a man and a woman sitting next to each other. Both with sun-weathered faces and sturdy, practical clothing.
The man was Tom Laycard. A Mystic Scholar with neutral karma. He was an experienced explorer. Known for traversing the treacherous landscapes of the New Continent. He was practical and resilient. A skilled navigator and survivalist.
The woman was Jeanne Laycard. Tom's wife and partner. She was also a Mystic Scholar with neutral karma. Like her husband, she was an experienced explorer. Renowned for her sharp intellect and cartography skills.
Jack ntally tagged them. Husband-and-wife explorer duo. Neutral karma. Okay.
Next, a middle-aged man with a scholarly, if slightly disheveled, appearance. He was ticulously cleaning his spectacles with a cloth.
This was Dr. Paul Kingsley. The owner of the house. Also a Mystic Scholar with neutral karma. He was a senior archeologist from Lonestone Academy. Highly respected in his field for his ticulous research and theoretical knowledge.
Another academic. Neutral. Good.
Finally, a strikingly beautiful middle aged woman. Dressed elegantly even at this late hour. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe, yet graceful bun.
Her eyes were sharp. Intelligent. And seed to miss nothing. She held herself with an aristocratic poise.
She was Baroness Erald Artheim. Like Leon Drake, she was both Supernatural Sorceress and Mystic Scholar. Similar to the other three, she also had a neutral karma.
She was also an archeologist from Lonestone Academy. And the widowed Baroness of the noble Artheim family. Even Jack had heard about her. She was known for her independent research, extensive personal library, and sharp analytical mind.
Jack let his [Eyes of Judgent] fade. All neutral. This was a pleasant surprise. The last expedition Leon, Chloe, and Dr. Crafton joined in... it was led by a noble with extrely negative karma. The result was... catastrophic.
This ti, it seed like a legitimate academic expedition. A group of scholars and experienced explorers. All with clean slates in his karmic ledger.
A wave of sothing akin to relief washed over him. Perhaps this ti, the expedition would be what it claid to be. A simple, if ambitious, journey of discovery.
For the ti being, Jack decided to simply observe. His involvent might not be needed. He continued to listen to their plans. Gathering all the information he could.
He would be ready if things went south. But for now, it seed the path ahead was clear of imdiate, grotesque evil.
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