"Conceptual fatigue is not merely tiredness. It is the void left when potential energy is exhausted—the inability to imagine another step." — Archival Log, Nagalira, 901 AE
Ken's collapse into Nagalira was not a fall into darkness, but into a silence so profound it felt like a cushion. The threshold had been sealed instantly behind them, the massive stone archway solidifying again, severing the connection to the Mugenkyou and the Trail.
He lay on a floor that felt like polished, cool marble, and the overwhelming white space began to resolve itself.
He was in an immense, circular chamber—the Nagalira Entry Vault. The walls, ceiling, and floor were constructed entirely of tightly packed, solidified conceptual energy, lending the space its brilliant, shadowless illumination. Around the perimeter, vast, spiraling stacks of archives ascended into the impossible height, disappearing into the pale light above. These were not bookshelves, but conceptual arrays: millions of shimmering, faintly humming Memory Shards containing the collected history of the Pillars and the realms they touched.
Ken felt his body being gently lifted. Shiori, the Weaver of Memory, moved with an effortless grace, her robes rustling like whispered pages. She placed Ken and the unconscious Kabe side-by-side on a low, floating dais carved from what looked like petrified wood.
"You require stabilization," Shiori murmured, her touch surprisingly warm. She placed both hands over Ken's chest.
A calm, golden warmth spread from her hands, bypassing his skin and sinking directly into the hollow conceptual space left by the depleted Pillar of Dreams. This was not the brute force of a Conceptual Walker's ability, but the delicate, persistent mending of a librarian. Ken felt the ragged edges of his fractured Anchor being smoothed, the psychic burns beginning to close.
"I am pulling ambient conceptual energy from the Archive, filtering it through the record of healing," Shiori explained. "It is slow, but it is pure. You must rest for a full conceptual cycle, or you will be unusable to yourself."
Ken tried to push himself up, his eyes fixated on Kabe. The Pillar of Grief was still radiating its intense, crushing sorrow, but the containment field Shiori had created seemed to muffle the worst of the psychic pressure.
"Kabe… will he be safe here?" Ken asked, his voice hoarse.
Shiori gently touched the Pillar of Grief. "The Pillar is the Blueprint of Conceptual Corruption. It contains the exact structural weaknesses that allow a Mythic entity like Uhayyad to break the boundaries of reality. But here, in the Vault, it is merely a data point."
She looked directly into Ken's eyes. "The Pillar of Grief's frequency is the counter-signature to Nagalira. It is why Uhayyad needed it inside. He knows the Pillar of Memory—the one you seek—is located deep within the Archives, and that the Grief Pillar can be used to overwrite or destabilize the fundamental history we guard."
"Why would he want to destroy the past?" Ken asked, settling reluctantly onto the dais as fatigue overtook him.
"Because the history of the Pillars is his weakness," Shiori replied, a flicker of coldness in her serene eyes. "Uhayyad is the Architect, but Nagalira holds the blueprints of the Original Architect, the one who created the Mugenkyou and the Pillars themselves. He wants to destroy the record that proves he is merely a servant, a warden, not the creator."
Ken closed his eyes, his mind finally allowing itself to shut down. The last thing he heard was Shiori's instruction: "The Pillar of Memory is in the Inner Archive. Use the Dream Pillar as your compass. I have repaired its conceptual link; it is now merely a receiver. It will react to the signature of the Memory Pillar."
Ken awoke hours later, the silence unbroken. Kabe was still resting, his breathing shallow but steady. The Pillar of Grief was utterly silent, neutralized by the Archive's atmosphere. The Pillar of Dreams felt light in his hand, its surface cool and smooth, faintly resonating with the quiet hum of the surrounding Memory Shards.
He rose, feeling conceptually whole again, though physically drained. He was alone in the vast Entry Vault. Shiori was gone.
Taking a deep, stabilizing breath, Ken slung the now-silent Pillar of Grief onto his back, securing it carefully. He held the Pillar of Dreams out in front of him like a dowsing rod.
The Pillar of Dreams immediately pulsed, not with light, but with an internal directionality, a pull toward a narrow, spiraling staircase carved out of the archive wall.
Ken looked back at Kabe, then to the massive, sealed door of the Vault. Uhayyad was outside. Ken was inside. He had reached the sanctuary, but now he had to traverse its maze. He was a trespasser in a library of infinite, lethal truth, carrying the exact antithesis of the city's purpose.
He began his ascent into the Archive. Every step was a commitment, taking him further from the entry point and deeper into the Weave of Forever.