“How do we unlock it?” someone asked.
“By lowering your defenses and embracing your connection to the universe.” His tone was soft, coaxing, like honey over glass.
I almost rolled my eyes. If it were that easy, everyone would have done it already.
“Not our connection to the gods?” someone asked.
“Yes—and no. Connection with the universe is the end goal, but the key to unlocking it is through communion with the gods.” Holcrum clapped once, sharp as a knife. “I want you all to try something. Hum.”
I snorted before I could stop myself. Quickly masked it with a cough, but too late—his gaze pinned me like an insect.
“Is something funny?” His voice was calm. Too calm.
I straightened in my chair. “I just… don’t see how humming is supposed to make us divine.”
He walked toward me slowly, each step deliberate, until the air between us felt charged.
“The vibration teaches frequency,” he said. “Divinity is a frequency. Energy within us. But if you’re too inadequate to produce even the smallest vibration…” His smile didn’t reach his eyes this time. “…then perhaps my time is wasted on you.”
Low whispers and snickers from the other culled surrounded me.
“Leave.”
My breath hitched. “Don’t I have to be here?”
“Not if I don’t want you here.” His voice cracked like a whip. “And I don’t. So leave.”
I rose hesitantly, aware that it could be a test. Every muscle was stiff as I made my way to the doorway. But he never stopped me.
When I finally glanced back, Holcrum didn’t look at me. He just flicked his wrist, dismissive, as if I were a gnat.
So I left.
Chapter 33
“Lies are the seed of rot; from rot comes ruin,
and ruin claims all.”
- The Old Book
The Facility - Week 2
The library was quiet, and as usual, it was just me and the librarian. I could tell that he was growing accustomed to having someone else in his library, because his eyes were less watchful each time I visited.
But I wasn’t there to browse today. I was hunting. I searched every participation log, roster, and mission record I could get my hands on—but none of them had a whisper of Willam. It was as if he had never existed. Like someone had erased him from the world.
I was growing weary in my search. Every day I lost a piece of hope. And truthfully, I didn’t know how much longer I could keep looking.
The librarian sat at his front desk, slumped back in his chair, reading. I watched him for a moment, waiting for a flicker of awareness, a sign he’d noticed me. Nothing.
Good.
I had a feeling that the information surrounding the culled was tucked away, hidden in one of the back rooms I had yet to enter. I had made it through nearly every room, but one remained.
As I made my way deeper through the rooms of towering shelves, I noticed that the pristine covers began to age. Some books looked to be nearly completely disintegrated, their spines coming undone, words almost illegible.
That’s when I saw it.
