[Write about not being able to see ahead of you.]
Yawning, Faebyen checked once more that fate was moving accordingly. Her job was incredibly boring but she was the best around, so her pay was nothing to scoff at.
Slouching in her chair, Faebyen lifted a finger and touched a string of karma. Nothing strange and everything was perfect. The wicked would face retribution and natural disasters would stay on course. She connected to another string, noting that a genius would be born to a mortal household yet would find themselves in an epic journey to destroy a corrupt sect. Cool. Watching that adventure might be fun.
Faebyen continued monitoring fate in the earthly realm, confirming that no one was tampering illegally. Eventually, she noticed a slight disturbance caused by someone she knew. Strange. He didn’t submit anything about his plans, but seeing as he was only planting a minor legacy for mortals to find, Faebyen didn’t see a reason to report his behavior as suspicious. Plus, it was Michyl. If Michyl couldn’t be trusted, who could? Many others with Faebyen’s position would stick to the rules like glue and deny Michyl any good faith, but Faebyen had leeway. She was one of the very few in the League who had no chance at all of conspiring with enemies, so the top echelon would trust her judgement.
“Might as well take a peek, though.”
Faebyen was curious about what kind of legacy Michyl left. Was it one of the popular choices of a single stat enhancement beyond their level, or maybe a more niche transformation technique? After some thinking, Faebyen doubted those possibilities. As far as she knew, Michyl was a fanatic of knowledge in general and loved learning about mortal affairs for the drama. Perhaps the legacy contained something related to learning?
“Enough speculation. I wanna see it!”
Faebyen abandoned her slouch to assume a proper sitting position and closed her eyes, making a piece of her consciousness connect to karma and fate, following strings to where Michyl placed the legacy. The man in question was still around, so he’d notice such an obvious entrance, but it didn’t matter to Faebyen. She was on monitoring duty, so of course she’d check up on what Michyl was doing. In fact, Faebyen knew for certain that Michyl knew the person monitoring would see what’s up.
Yet, Michyl didn’t extend a greeting or anything, which Faebyen found strange. Was he in a bad mood? Well, Faebyen didn’t care, ignoring him and continuing her search.
There it was: a cave located deep in a mountain. Within the cave sat a standard treasure chest with a book lying atop it. Faebyen washed her senses over the book, wanting to read its contents.
“Huh? Why is it in Formal League Code?”
Strangely, whatever was written in the book was scrambled with the official code for the higher-ups of the League to use when sending documents to each other. The code was terrifying within the League for its time-consuming method of decoding, so Faebyen scratched her head in confusion. How would anyone in the earthly realm get any use out of that book?
Quickly discarding the urge to decode the book’s content, Faebyen turned her attention back to Michyl, who was still partially within the earthly realm. Was he…pulling a prank? That was the only logical option she could think of, but even then…why?
Then, Faebyen’s questions were answered.
The bit of Michyl’s spirit which planted the legacy appeared before Faebyen’s own incarnation, opening his palm to show her the item held within. Immediately, Faebyen panicked and moved to cut her connection to the incarnation, because in Michyl’s palm sat a Quirin Soul Blyn.
Michyl activated it.
At speeds Faebyen couldn’t hope to match, the Quirin Soul Blyn’s power shot from Michyl’s hand into her spirit, following the connection back all the way to her true body in League Headquarters. The trillions of chaotic sparkles invaded her mind, twisting her consciousness as though it were putty, trying to kill her.
Seconds of torture later, a treasure on Faebyen’s body activated in response to the spiritual attack, using powerful qi to wipe away the Quirin Soul Blyn’s power. But it was too late. The League’s most talented diviner was blinded.
Faebyen had fallen off her chair and lied on the floor, catching her breath and assessing the situation, knowing fully well that if her master hadn’t given her the protective treasure, she’d have lost her life.
Faebyen shakily lifted herself back into her chair, which itself was a powerful treasure to assist divining. With it, she tried reaching out to touch karma…unsuccessfully. She tried again, failing again. She knew what that meant but refused to believe it. Faebyen extended her spirit as far out as she could from her true body, doing her best to feel the flow of fate and currents of karma. She succeeded…barely.
Ignoring her startled peers, she first raised an alarm, letting the HQ know that an attack was possibly imminent. Then, she focused on fate, hoping not to see what she suspected.
But it was true. From millions of places, Faebyen sensed the waves of war and chaos of conflict. She couldn’t make out any detail whatsoever with her crippled soul, but she could see that her greatest fear had come to life: the second Galactic Calamity had begun.