Type-Moon: Does even a sneak peek make it official?

"Shiali, open this door yourself."

In the plaza beneath the sea, where the depths resembled a starry sky, a faint light filled the space. It was as though some unseen force field held everything in place—the surging seawater on the other side did not spill through in the slightest.

The upper levels of the sunken Library of Alexandria had been concealed by the alchemists of the ancient Atlas Institute, who crafted a false seabed to mask the real location. Which meant, to reach the true library, one had to press on, unwavering, beneath the illusionary seabed.

Recalling this, Novia wasted no time pushing the alchemist from Atlas—likely the so-called "Age of Gods Shiali"—to the front as his scout. Bound by the reversed Ether Lines, Shiali had no choice but to obey.

Novia, however, hadn't used the Ether Lines to plunder her knowledge or peer into her soul's thought patterns. He had merely gathered basic information about her—no surprises there, she was indeed a candidate to become the next Director of the Atlas Institute. At just six years old, she had already earned the titles of Instructor and Special Envoy within Atlas.

Based on his speculation, the famed Cyber Hacker from two thousand years in the future was either her descendant… or perhaps, a different stage of the same soul—a reincarnation.

After all, if memory served, in the Type-Moon world, each life a soul experienced was recorded by the Akashic Records after death, becoming a new node for the next existence. The entire system resembled the structure of constellations.

Stepping into the long-forgotten Library of Alexandria, Novia found the place peculiar. It looked like it was built of marble, yet not a single echo could be heard—as if all sound was absorbed into the stone itself.

"…May I ask… where exactly are we?"

After walking straight down a corridor for some time, Shiali finally asked.

"Do I need to answer you? Hurry up and scout ahead. Or pick a way you'd prefer to kill yourself."

With the face of a proper villain, Novia responded mercilessly.

Shiali clenched her fists. The burning humiliation seared through her, impossible to ignore.

To control others and then be controlled in turn—the two flipped in an instant. Magi, by nature, defied conventional ethics, but that didn't make it any less humiliating. Yet, in the end, she could only accept it.

The Library of Alexandria consisted of four levels, each guarded by monsters: scorpion-bodied, human-faced creatures; leopard-bodied, serpent-headed beasts; crocodile-bodied, dog-headed hybrids; and eagle-bodied, lion-headed chimeras.

Novia barely lifted a finger through the first three layers. Shiali, controlled by the Ether Lines, handled everything.

It wasn't just laziness on Novia's part—caution played the bigger role.

After all, the Library's construction had involved a branch of the Atlas Institute, three powerful magi, and Pharaoh Ptolemy himself. But the Atlas branch, from what Novia recalled, likely lacked the political scheming skills to even grasp what those three were truly plotting.

During the BC era, while the Age of Gods still lingered, three renowned magi had joined Ptolemy: Kurdilis of the Atlas Institute, Kiz of the Wandering Sea, and Wuzhiqi of the Mountain Court.

The trio used humanity's understanding of the world and the power of myth itself to perform a grand ritual, transforming the Ptolemy-protected Alexander IV into one who could devour gods.

According to Novia's memory, the final layer of the library housed a sarcophagus—within it lay fragments of divine authority, the remnants of Osiris, Lord of the Underworld and once chief deity of Egyptian myth, the one who had inherited Ra's kingship.

But Novia also understood that his meddling would disrupt the plans of the Wandering Sea and the Mountain Court—two monstrous entities who could live for millennia. With his foundation still shallow—the Christian faith yet to sweep Europe, and the Burial Agency out of reach—he couldn't afford to provoke them recklessly.

Shiali, however, as the next Director of the Atlas Institute, was a different matter entirely. By all rights, this treasure belonged to Atlas. The Wandering Sea and Mountain Court would have no grounds to object.

The only thorny issue now was how to deal with Shiali herself. Though Novia appeared to be in control, the Ether Lines only granted so much security. Atlas alchemists were notorious for their ability to partition their thought processes—splitting their minds into multiple streams capable of independent calculation.

No doubt, Shiali had already begun strategizing how to escape the Ether Lines' control. After all, they were a product of her own family's techniques—she understood them far better than Novia did.

Ordering her to kill herself? That might be the cleanest solution—but if Hermes Trismegistus back at the Atlas Institute ever interrogated the truth from her corpse, things could get messy. The other families at Atlas might not care… but the Altnam family certainly would.

Their Ether Lines were tricky business. Perhaps impossible to land a precise strike on the brain's neural network during a chaotic battle, but in a moment of complacency? Fatal.

"Shiali."

White motes of light illuminated the library interior like distant stars in the night sky. Novia took a step closer.

Given their heights, the purple-haired girl barely reached his chest. She gazed up expressionlessly.

"Before we enter the final layer… why don't we cooperate? I need you right now."

Partitioned Thought Stream No. 4: Status—Normal.

Listening carefully, Shiali confirmed her internal diagnostic scan. No abnormalities.

There were no lies in his words. That was enough.

"You loosened the Ether Lines?" Her lips curled slightly. "If you truly want cooperation, I'll need to recalibrate your magecraft."

"Of course."

Novia drew his longsword. Threads of silk bloomed from Shiali's fingertips once more.

The alchemist assigned one partitioned thought stream to evasive calculations. Ether Lines flowed along the ceiling and floor, attacking from above and below. Novia, nimble as ever, twisted in midair as if slipping on ice, spinning around entirely.

With the protection of wind-enhancing magecraft, he closed the distance rapidly—the Ether Lines, at a mere thought, could turn into peerless blades capable of slicing through flesh.

Partitioned Thought Stream No. 3: Insufficient time to dodge. No. 2: Transfer critical information to the thread-based puppet.

Such close-range weaponry—if pierced, it would take years to recover.

But Shiali hadn't expected the blow to come not from the longsword—but from Novia's fist, slamming into her chest.

"Oh?"

In a flash, her body exploded into countless threads and vanished.

"So that's how it works? Guess I got lucky just now."

"Childish tricks. The wisdom of Atlas, the pride of my family—don't flatter yourself into thinking you've figured it out so easily."

"In the beginning," Novia quoted calmly, "God said, 'Let there be light.'"

As Novia's refined Church magecraft took form, a new embryonic power—the foundation for an unstoppable, global surge—was born beneath the sea. The more believers his faith acquired, the stronger this thaumaturgical base would grow.

Invisible light swiftly filled the entire space, binding Shiali completely, rendering her immobile.

"Now."

Novia's voice was eerily calm, yet brooked no defiance.

"I've not manipulated you. In the magecraft world, demanding obedience from inferiors—and offering rewards—is perfectly reasonable, isn't it?"

Faced with the slow, deliberate question, Shiali nodded stiffly.

"In short, I'd like to cooperate with you, Miss Shiali. What do you say?"

Shiali stared at Novia for a long moment, then murmured,

"…The data doesn't match."

"Data?"

"Fragmentary intel, admittedly. But gathering intelligence on one's opponent is fundamental, isn't it?"

Lifting her gaze, she continued coldly:

"Selfish. Arrogant. Decayed. Ignorant. Stubborn. Groveling before commoners… That's what my observations, and the intelligence gathered from Alexandria, had to say about you."

"I'm that bad? Then I'd say you're just easy to deceive."

"Judging character takes long-term observation. As a magus, do you not even know that much?"

Shiali huffed indignantly.

Novia simply smiled his usual, infuriating smile and shook his head, saying nothing more.

Turning away, he approached the entrance to the library's final layer.

"Wait."

Just as he reached for the door, Shiali turned, her sharp eyes locking onto the silver-haired youth.

"I detect it—the presence of the Age of Gods… rapidly converging inside."