Reincarnated as an Apocalyptic Catalyst-Chapter 66: One Does Not Simply Walk Into the Restricted Section

I turned the name over in my head, letting it settle like a bad aftertaste. If I had a coin for every ancient, supposedly dead organization that turned out to still be kicking, I’d have... well, two coins. Which wasn’t a lot, but it was weird that it happened twice.

Mara had been uncharacteristically quiet since we left the abandoned wing, her brows furrowed so hard I half-expected them to form a second face. She still clutched the old robe like it was a bomb, her fingers tracing the faded sigil every few minutes like she was trying to convince herself it was real.

We ducked into an empty study hall, just far enough from the main corridors that we wouldn’t be overheard. Ronan must have seen us–I don’t know how he does it, but it’s like he could sniff us out– because he followed, silent as ever, which was vaguely unnerving. He was there, just existing, and it wasn’t till I tried to interact with Mara that we even realized he had snuck in with us.

It was like a shadow at the edge of my vision, except there he was, standing by the door, like a specter.

"Good god Ronan, where the hell did you come from?" My tone was unsteady like I’d seen a ghost. "Do you seriously just walk the halls looking for me and latching on like a leech?" I let my tone settle as I looked into Ronan’s doe-eyes. He looked so sad when I talked to him like that. Okay, that might be a stretch, he was just blankly staring forward, waiting for his next command.

"I followed," was all he said, and of course it was. This wasn’t how normal people were supposed to act.

Mara too was shaken, but after our interaction, she somehow managed to finally speak, pushing Ronan’s presence out of her mind. I wish I could do that, just ignore the big lug.

"Err, so, anyway... The Duskwatch Covenant was a radical group of warlocks and summoners from over a century ago. Their entire doctrine revolved around the idea that magic should be freed—removed from human limitations, unrestricted by natural laws... Kind of like—that guy." She pointed to Ronan who said nothing, merely listened and watched.

I blinked. "That... sounds very anti-survival. Everyone knows how deadly magic is, why would someone seek to just blast it around all willy-nilly?"

She ignored me. "They were disbanded after several disastrous summoning incidents—creatures too unstable to control, spells that tore through the fabric of reality. The kind of magic that got entire cities wiped off maps."

Ronan, who had been staring at a candle like he was considering if it had feelings, finally chimed in. "That sounds inefficient."

I clapped a hand on his shoulder. "It was, buddy. That’s why they don’t exist anymore. Supposedly."

Turning to Mara, I asked, "Were they really just wanting to destroy everything, total anarchy, just nothing but devastation for the sake of devastation?"

Mara exhaled through her nose, still laser-focused on the sigil. "Except they do, by everything we’ve seen, they do exist. And sure, they wanted anarchy, and they almost succeeded. We can’t deign to explain why they do what they do, but it looks like they are about to do it again. I don’t know if they are using students from the Academy, or if they are targeting the Academy to slow down any resistance they may face if they choose to start taking out cities again. I honestly believe they might take out the capital first, but that’s all conjecture."

"Great." I leaned back in my chair. "Love that for us. So, what’s the next step? Do we confront them? March up to the nearest hooded figure and say, ’Hey, quick question, do you actually worship eldritch horror gods, or are you just playing dress-up?’"

Mara’s eyes narrowed. "We need information. Real information. Not just old rumors and stories."

I waved a hand. "Which means...?"

She gave me that look—the one she usually had before making me do something I wouldn’t like. "We’re breaking into the restricted archives."

I groaned. "Mara, do you ever suggest anything fun?"

"This is fun," she shot back. "Besides, you got to choose the last restricted area we got to break into. Unless you’d rather sit around and wait for these people to summon something worse?"

I sighed dramatically. "Fine. Lead the way, Professor Mara."

She ignored me, already moving.

The Academy’s restricted archives were locked down tighter than the headmaster’s liquor cabinet, and believe me, that was no easy feat. Still, the whiskey under my bed was well worth the struggle. That booze was older than I was, and nearly as delicious. The only way in was through an enchanted security door that required two things: faculty clearance and a magical signature approved by the Academy itself. I seriously doubted if Mara had either, and I only had myself, which I was somewhat confident did not qualify as a method of entry.

The study halls were quiet this late, most students were either asleep or buried in last-minute assignments. We stuck to the shadows, moving through the empty corridors, Ronan trailing behind like some silent, overpowered guard dog. He still had that vaguely lost look about him, like he was waiting for someone to tell him what to do.

Mara slowed as we reached the archive doors. "Alright," she whispered. "The security enchantments are layered—physical, magical, and probably some kind of alarm system."

I cracked my knuckles. "Lucky for you, I’m something of a security expert."

She gave me a deeply unamused look. "You literally got caught sneaking into a dueling match last week."

"Yeah, because that was practice." I waved a dismissive hand. "This is the real thing."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Just—ugh. Do your thing, but if you screw up, I’ll be out of here before the first alarm sounds... I’ll even take Ronan with me."

Ronan grunted in approval as I did my thing.

The first layer was simple—standard magical locks keyed to faculty mana signatures. That was easy enough to bypass with a little misdirection. A small illusion here, a careful push of energy there, and the enchantment flickered, briefly fooled into thinking I was someone much more responsible than I actually was. This magic thing wasn’t too bad, I mean if someone like me–a novice– then how hard could it be? Sure I was specially designed to break into shit, so maybe that made things a bit easier for me.

The second layer was trickier. A failsafe that triggered if the first lock was bypassed incorrectly. I felt Mara watching over my shoulder, practically vibrating with judgment.

"You’re stalling," she whispered.

"I’m contemplating," I corrected.

"You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?"

"I have some idea."

Mara folded her arms. "Alright. Explain your method."

I hesitated. "...Trade secret?"

She groaned.

Before she could rip the door open herself, I finished weaving the spell, bypassing the alarm just as the enchantment pulsed. The lock clicked, the magic dissipating like mist.

I grinned. "See? Perfectly executed."

Mara shoved the door open and walked inside before I could milk the moment.

Ronan followed without a word, still looking vaguely fascinated by everything. I was just thankful that he didn’t blast it with some missile-grade spell that would remove the entire wall.

I stepped in last, closing the door behind us.

The restricted archives were nothing like the grand halls of the main library. This was storage, and it felt like it. Rows of towering bookshelves stretched into the dimly lit chamber, their contents covered in dust, their pages filled with things the Academy didn’t want students reading.

Mara took charge immediately, scanning the rows with a calculating look. "We need records on the Duskwatch. Summoning rituals. Anything that might connect them to what’s happening now."

I leaned against a shelf. "And here I thought we were just here to steal ancient cookie recipes."

"Do you ever stop? Like, can you physically stop with all of these asinine comments?" I felt like she was actually getting mad and started to reign myself in. Perhaps I was pushing her too far?

I sighed, rolling up my sleeves. "Alright, fine. Let’s find out just how bad this is."

We split up, each taking a section of the room. Mara pulled volumes from the shelves with an almost obsessive focus, scanning their contents at rapid speed. Ronan just stood in the middle of the room, looking like he wasn’t sure if he should be helping or waiting for commands.

I flipped through the nearest stack of tomes, skimming over topics ranging from How To Properly Bind a Demon to Consequences of Repeatedly Pissing Off The Gods. Some of this was honestly fascinating in a bad life choice kind of way.

Then Mara made a noise—wild and victorious.

I turned to see her holding up an old leather-bound book. "Here. History of the Duskwatch Covenant."

I raised a brow. "That was fast."

She tapped the cover. "I actually pay attention in class."

I didn’t respond, it would just be more of the same, and besides, she deserved this moment of triumph.

Ignoring me, she flipped it open, her eyes scanning the pages. I moved closer, peering over her shoulder. Ronan, to his credit, also stepped in, staring blankly at the book like it was a new species he had never encountered before. We just had to make sure to keep the book away from his mouth, or worse, his hands.

Mara’s voice was urgent. "The Duskwatch weren’t just summoners. They weren’t just trying to bring things into this world."

I frowned. "Sounds... Like summoning."

She turned the page, revealing an old, faded sketch—runes, circles, a structure I didn’t recognize.

"They were trying to merge them."

I blinked. "Okay, yeah, that sounds a little worse."

Mara swallowed hard. "If someone’s trying to continue their work..."

"We’re very screwed?"

She closed the book with a soft thud. "Very."

I exhaled. "Awesome...."

Ronan, ever insightful, simply nodded. "Understood."

"Ronan..." I muttered.

"I comprehend." He corrected.

"Seriously, just contribute something to the conversation. You can’t keep saying a single word as a response.

"I comprehend what you are saying."

"No, go stand in the corner, this is not okay. Go on, think about what you’ve done," I directed him to the nearest corner.

Ronan, to his credit, walked over to stand in the corner.

Mara ran a hand through her hair, looking stressed. "We need to get out of here before someone catches us."

"What, you’re not enjoying a little light reading?"

She shoved the book into her bag, ignoring me.

I turned toward the door—And immediately froze. There were footsteps, just like last time, except now they were outside the archives and getting closer. Mara’s eyes met mine and we knew he only had seconds to act.

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