Deep in the Bavarian Alps, hollowed out as if by a giant's hand, lay a sunless magical cavern.
This was the venue for the German International Magical Machinery Expo.
Alchemists, spell inventors, and magical craftsmen from across Europe treated this place as a yearly pilgrimage.
Every speck of dust in the air was soaked with the scent of machine oil, the cold tang of metal, and the peculiar sweetness that wafted from condensed magical water under heat.
Incredible magical creations were lined up here, awaiting the scrutiny of discerning eyes.
Alchemy chef robots, capable of automatically parsing recipes and perfectly cooking twelve-course meals, scanned the passing crowds with their glowing red mechanical eyes. Nearby, single-seat flying motorcycles powered by wind-element runes traced elegant trajectories through the air, eliciting waves of awe.
Deeper inside, a massive environment simulator was in operation. It could conjure a small-scale blizzard out of thin air, allowing Aurors from the German Ministry of Magic to train under extreme conditions.
The Scott family moved through the exhibits, their eyes unable to keep up with the spectacle.
Even Alan, usually analytical about everything, had to admit deep inside that German wizards had reached an awe-inspiring level on the path of "magical industrialization." They had dragged magic out of its mystical halls and wrapped it in gears and bearings, giving it cold, efficient order.
The tour was approaching its end.
At that moment, a corner caught Alan's attention.
It was an exhibit tucked deep within the hall, devoted to so-called "ancient alchemical relics." Compared to the surrounding advanced machinery glowing with magic, this corner seemed particularly cold and even slightly decrepit.
The exhibitor was an old man with a white beard reaching his chest. He leaned back in a chair, dozing with his breaths, completely indifferent to the visitors around him.
The artifacts themselves were unremarkable.
Mostly rusted remnants of distillers, or broken metal tools etched with unknown symbols, quietly lying on dusty velvet, unnoticed by anyone.
Alan's gaze swept over these scraps of metal and brass.
Then, his vision froze.
In the least conspicuous corner of the exhibit, an object seized his full attention.
It was only fist-sized.
A perfect cube.
Polished from matte black obsidian, it reflected no light, as if a pure black void devouring everything.
On its six faces, densely packed runes were engraved with a method Alan had never seen, ancient, intricate, and meticulous. The runes' lines were deep and precise, not human carvings, but reminiscent of cosmic star trajectories, seemingly etched into the stone by some immense force.
Thump. Thump.
Alan's heart began to pound, beyond the control of his will.
An intuition, wordless and electric, surged from deep within his soul, telling him clearly, this thing was immensely important to him.
He did not move forward immediately.
His expression remained calm, adopting the casual, slightly lazy air of a tourist.
He adjusted his walking path subtly, leading his family slowly toward that lonely corner.
First, he picked up a broken brass balance, pretending to study the rust and markings with interest. Yet from the corner of his eye, he precisely measured the distance to the obsidian cube and assessed the dozing old man's state.
Everything was normal.
He put down the balance and picked up another cracked crystal vial.
His movements were neither hurried nor slow; every action fit that of an ordinary visitor curious about ancient relics.
Finally, as he picked up a third exhibit, his hand "accidentally" brushed against the obsidian cube.
Then, almost "casually," he held it in his palm.
Cold.
Smooth.
A sensation beyond mere matter, like touching the concept of absolute zero, raced instantly from his fingertips throughout his entire body.
At that very instant, his mental palace, the fortress of countless memories and logical constructs, was violently shaken.
An invisible high-voltage current exploded within the core of his consciousness!
His entire mental world trembled!
[WARNING! High-density, unknown ancient information detected!]
[Analyzing structure…]
[Analysis complete.]
[Object identified: Rune Key.]
[Function: Physical key for unlocking an ancient high-level information repository sealed by "Conceptual Chains."]
A series of cold, emotionless words appeared deep in his mind.
This is it.
Alan's breath froze completely.
Blood seemed to coagulate in his veins before surging wildly again, making his fingertips slightly warm.
He had chased it tirelessly, using countless calculations and deductions to attempt unlocking the secrets of ancient runic logic…
He had imagined countless ways to find it:
Deep within a long-forgotten ancient ruin.
Hidden between the lines of a rare spellbook.
Or requiring an extremely complex alchemical ritual to recreate.
He never imagined it would appear in such an almost absurd manner, so casually placed right before him on a neglected, trash-filled exhibit table!
Yet his elation lasted less than a second.
A powerful magical surge, brimming with absolute command, shot through the hall from afar, without warning.
It was intangible, yet carried an undeniable pressure.
Its target was unmistakable: the obsidian cube in Alan's hand.
It was a summoning curse.
An extremely fast and extremely powerful summoning curse!
Vwoom,
Almost simultaneously, Alan's chest-mounted "Guardian 2.0" defensive system was passively activated.
A faint, nearly invisible pale-blue shield flickered across his chest.
No sound.
No collision.
The ferocious summoning curse, capable of instantly disarming an adult wizard, hit the thin shield and was dissipated perfectly, silently, as if it had vanished into nothingness.
Alan's expression changed instantly.
His pupils contracted to their limits.
The owner of this "key," or another person aware of its value, was somewhere in this hall.
And they had already detected him!
The previous summoning curse was not only an attempt to snatch it, it was a precise lock-on.
Trouble.
Huge trouble.
Several countermeasures flashed through Alan's mind, but to avoid involving his family in the unknown danger, he selected the most direct and effective option.
Without hesitation, he swiftly slid the cold obsidian cube into a pocket where he had cast an invisible extension enchantment.
Then, he turned and gently pulled his still-curious family away from the exhibits.
"We're leaving."
His voice was low but carried an unmistakable decisiveness.
He offered no explanation, only moving as quickly as possible, leading his somewhat reluctant family through the bustling crowds, out of the cavern filled with wondrous, and dangerous, magical contraptions.
He had to leave this place of peril immediately.
~~----------------------
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