The Bishop and Imam exchanged shocked glances, their minds racing to comprehend what they had just heard. Old Hector wasn't faring much better, his usually stern face now etched with a mixture of surprise and anxiety.
None of them had anticipated that after Riley's narrow escape from death, he would willingly plunge back into the heart of danger, involving himself with the strange and ominous knowledge that lay within the veritas.
They had all just heard the tales of the ancient document, rumored to contain forbidden knowledge, cursed with an entity that could warp the minds of those who dared to delve too deeply into its contents. And yet, here was Riley, not only undeterred by these warnings but determined to seek out the veritas, to unravel its mysteries and confront whatever dark force resided within.
The trio of religious leaders glanced at each other, their unease palpable. Old Hector, the eldest among them, finally broke the tense silence with a sigh.
"Are you sure?" the Imam asked, his voice laced with concern and a touch of excitement.
"Of course. Where is the veritas?" Riley's tone was firm, resolute. There was no trace of hesitation in his voice, no sign of the fear that had gripped him only days before.
He was a man on a mission, driven by a need to solve the misery behind the veritas, to understand the knowledge the cursed document possessed.
The knowledge might be a key—perhaps the key—to something crucial, something that could change everything— something that can help him conquer his first Nexus Trial.
At least, that was what Riley hoped.
The trio watched him, their expressions a mixture of doubt and grudging respect. They had hoped to dissuade him, to make him see reason, but it was clear now that their efforts would be in vain. Riley's mind was set, his course unchangeable. After much silent deliberation, they realized there was no stopping him—not that they had truly tried. In truth, this was what they had wanted all along. If anyone could survive the power of the VERITAS, it was Riley. He had done so once before, though by what means, they could only guess.
The religious leaders were not so naive as to believe that Riley's survival had been mere chance. Something—or someone—had intervened, ensuring that he lived to tell the tale. They knew, as Riley did, that if anyone was destined to unlock the secrets of the VERITAS, it was him.
In the previous loop, they had tried to manipulate him, feeding him lies about the book's influence, convincing him that they had sealed its knowledge within him. Their plan had been simple yet devious: to give him the VERITAS in secret, allowing him to read it again. If he survived, they believed he would unknowingly reveal its contents, thinking he was recounting the details of a normal book.
But Riley had seen through their deception. He had seen the truth, or at least a glimpse of it, and now he was more determined than ever to solve the misery behind the VERITAS.
"Follow me," Old Hector finally spoke, his voice trembling slightly as he struggled to contain his emotions. Despite his best efforts, a flicker of excitement danced in his eyes, mirrored by the barely concealed anticipation of the Bishop and Imam. They were eager—no, desperate—to discover what the VERITAS contained, to uncover the hidden knowledge they could leverage for their own ends.
Riley fell into step behind them as they began the ascent up a winding staircase that led to Old Hector's study. The air grew thick with tension as they climbed, the trio quickening their pace as if afraid Riley might change his mind at the last moment. But Riley's resolve never wavered. He was ready—more ready than he had ever been.
After what felt like an eternity, they reached the study. The room was dimly lit, the walls lined with towering bookshelves that formed an imposing barrier on either side. The books were like a second wall, sealing off the room from the outside world, creating a space where secrets could be safely hidden.
Old Hector settled into a plush chair near the center of the room, his usual spot when he was in the library. Riley watched as the Bishop and Imam exchanged a final nod before they began to chant, their voices low and reverent.
The language they spoke was ancient, one that Riley recognized but could not fully understand. It was Hermes, the language of scholars and the political elite, a tongue that held the key to the world's history and secrets.
As they chanted, the air in the room seemed to vibrate with energy. A golden light began to fill the space, growing brighter with each passing moment. A fierce wind rose from nowhere, whipping through the study, sending books flying in all directions.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the wind died down, leaving the room eerily silent. In the center of the table, where there had been nothing moments before, now sat a small, thin book. It was nearly the size of a diary, its cover made of a strange material that at first glance resembled leather, but upon closer inspection, seemed to pulse with a life of its own.
Carefully, almost reverently, Riley reached out to pick up the book. Despite its small size, it was heavy—unusually so. He strained his muscles as he lifted it, wondering if the book's weight was one of the reasons the religious leaders never carried it with them, opting instead to summon it when needed.
The title on the cover was unmistakable: "VERITAS." Beneath it, in nearly invisible text, were the words: "THE TRUTH."
Riley didn't wait for permission before opening the book. As soon as the cover was lifted, Old Hector and the religious leaders quickly retreated from the study, their faces pale with fear. They wanted no part of what was about to happen, terrified that the curse might extend to them if they remained too close.
Riley turned to the first page. Riley was surprised he could understand the meaning behind the strange alphabets. He figured out it was the work of the Nexus Blessing. He read the VERITAS:
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... Toymaker was lazily looking through the universe when Trickster approached him. "You're bored," Trickster remarked. "Why don't you explore the creations?" he suggested. It wasn't a bad idea, so Toymaker set off.
He began by examining the creations of the God of Creation. To be sincere, the Creator's works were limitless. As Toymaker browsed through them, a blue planet caught his attention. It was so beautiful that he wanted to observe it closer. As he drew near, he discovered something shocking.
Strange life forms inhabited the blue planet. Their appearance was quite similar to that of the Cosmic beings—the Weeping Angels, Daemons, Demons—except they lacked wings and several other unique traits, such as the possession of powers.
There were many life forms created by the God of Creation. The Weeping Angels were among the oldest of His creations. Toymaker and his fellow Daemons were birthed from the God of Creation. Apart from Daemons, there existed demons.
Toymaker was fascinated by these strange life forms. They were like lesser versions of the Cosmic beings, so he decided to name them "lesser beings." Toymaker felt an inexplicable obsession to study them; perhaps, just perhaps, he could recreate something like this. Something so beautiful that it would take his breath away. As a Cosmic being, it was rare for Toymaker to experience something akin to surprise.
Toymaker descended to the blue planet to study its inhabitants—the lesser beings. When he appeared in the sky, their eyes widened, and then they kowtowed to him. Toymaker was pleased that they recognized him as an existence greater than themselves. From that day forward, he began to guide them. But then the Council of Cosmic Beings was summoned in Heaven.
When Toymaker arrived, all present were equals. But then the Creator appeared, and they all kowtowed. Toymaker felt a deep sense of shame, having already experienced the strange feeling of seeing the lesser beings kowtow to him. The Creator felt that same feeling when He looked at the Cosmic beings bowing before Him.
That day, Toymaker didn't kowtow. The Creator shot him a questioning gaze, but Toymaker didn't give in to the pressure that bore down on him from that gaze. "Toymaker! What are you doing? Quick, acknowledge the Creator!" Maestro spoke to him calmly, her voice sweet to his ears, almost tempting him to bow, but Toymaker resisted. Maestro was a Daemon like him, the God of Music.
Trickster glanced at Toymaker, giving him a thumbs-up. Toymaker was pleased that someone was happy with his defiance, so his confidence soared.
The Creator didn't ask Toymaker any questions; He banished Toymaker from ever attending the Cosmic Meeting and stripped him of his title. Toymaker had thought Trickster would defend him, but the cursed being was the one who gave the Creator the idea to banish him and take his title.
Trickster also informed the Creator of Toymaker's trip to one of His creations and that Toymaker had been calling himself a god, accepting offerings and prayers. The Creator then forbade Toymaker from ever entering the blue planet again.
After much consideration, and with Trickster manipulating the Creator, Toymaker was imprisoned for three hundred and fifty billion years. When Toymaker was finally released, Trickster came to him. Toymaker observed him calmly, though still angry about what Trickster had done.
"Toymaker, don't be angry. I saw that you loved those lesser beings inhabiting the blue planet. But I have a solution for you, one you'll be pleased with. Consider it my sincere apology," Trickster said.
Toymaker shot him a glance, suspicious but intrigued, and decided to listen to his proposal.
"Why don't you create a shadow planet, like the blue planet, where all lives and the lesser beings you loved will also exist, and then you can rule over them, just like the Creator?"
Trickster's idea was so brilliant that Toymaker almost kissed him on the cheeks. Following his advice, Toymaker created a shadow world instead of a shadow planet, still wary of Trickster's motives.
The Toymaker had decided then that he would conquer the blue planet and gain control of it from the creator, however he did not know much about the blue planet. He needed time to study it. He made up his mind to study the blue planet and practice conquering in his shadow world.
Toymaker cloned the blue planet along with its inhabitants. He tried his best, but the Creator's work was too complex, and Toymaker messed up some aspects of the shadow world. The sense of justice there was flawed compared to the real blue planet. Some weapons that was supposed to only exist in the future found their way into the past. The timeline was pretty much messed up.
Toymaker fixed as many problems as he could, but then he discovered another issue. The people in the shadow world were like simulations. They weren't like simulations; they were simulations. If this shadow people were all asked to guess a random number. They'd all come up with the same number, because they all contain the same program. Nevertheless those shadow people think they are real.
And at that moment, Toymaker realized his powers were inferior to the Creator's. The people in the shadow world were mere toys compared to the real beings."
At this point Riley didn't know what to feel. He was now aware that the translators that had committed suicide did so because they discovered that they were not real but a simulation.
He was pretty sure the translators started to think of random numbers and discovered that they came up with the same result.
Riley's eyes suddenly widened. He had a jolt of realization.
Those deaths... They were not suicide. Those were people escaping the stimulation.
Riley continued to read:
Nevertheless, Toymaker loved them all the same. They were all for his grand ambition to conquer the blue planet. Until…
The Creator summoned Toymaker. When he arrived in Heaven, Toymaker was arrested. Trickster was kneeling before the Creator, and a video of Toymaker creating the shadow world kept replaying. The Creator was furious.
And his wrath was… terrifying.
By the time Toymaker pieced the puzzle together, it was too late. He had been tricked by Trickster… again