Late at night, the creaking sounds of open and closing doors woke Wendel from his sleep. He turned over alertly, got out of bed, and surveyed the room. What on earth had happened? Had Utopia been struck by a severe storm? After several nights of restless sleep, Wendel had finally settled into deep rest—only to be woken up now, his thoughts still fogged and his mind feeling utterly bewildered. He soon realized that there was no strong wind rushing in through the open windows nor any rain falling inside—it seemed as though he himself had opened them while dreaming, simply to breathe in fresh air. Suddenly, Wendel recalled the extraordinary events he had personally experienced and those he had learned about through files, and the persistent fear of the unknown that had long governed his inner life. He had no idea what changes might come next, nor what kind of events might unfold, and a cold shiver ran through him, accompanied by a subtle tremor. At that very moment, he heard a commotion outside, various sounds pouring into his ears. There was the sound of hurried footsteps, the voices of judgment on certain actions, the murmurs of adjustments to the current order, and clear, unambiguous cries: "An anomaly has been detected in the subterranean seals!" "Raise alert levels!" Subterranean seals? What exactly was sealed beneath the Iris Inn? Winder was both astonished and puzzled, and couldn't help stepping to the door, glancing around. He then spotted colleagues from MI9 whom he wasn't particularly familiar with but who he recognized enough, including Colonel Xu Dizhcha, on duty tonight. Had MI9 found me and come to Utopia to address these anomalies? Winder thought this as he instinctively furrowed his brow. He noticed that the arrangement of the corridor outside was entirely different from that of the "Crocus" inn: on both sides, there were not only gas wall lamps but also classical lamp stands; the floor was exceptionally polished; and the ceiling height exceeded three meters. . . . This wasn't the "Crocus" inn at all. Winder suddenly turned around and took a fresh look at the room he was in. He quickly recognized it as his bedroom at the headquarters of MI9. His suitcase remained quietly in the corner, showing no signs of movement. Winder remembered clearly that he had gone to Utopia via the bathroom inside the room—he hadn't been particularly confident about the journey, so he hadn't brought any luggage, only the official document from the Utopia District Court. Tapping, tapping, tapping! He hurried to the window and looked out. Before him lay the garden and the lawn belonging to the MI9 headquarters. Me—have I actually returned to Beckland? Or have I never truly left Utopia, and merely dozed off from exhaustion, dreaming all along? Wendel wandered back to the bed and sat down. After a few seconds, he suddenly leapt up, picking up his coat from the floor. Then he noticed the utopian court documents, which should have been tucked away in the drawer, quietly resting in the inner pocket of the coat. Wendel went silent, as if turning into a statue. ........ The travel columnist Monica also woke up with the sharp thud of the window and the door hitting the wall. She sat up abruptly, pulling the blanket over her chest. Dazed and half-asleep, her first instinct was that a burglar had broken in, so she prepared to shout and summon the police. Yet, over the next fifteen to twenty seconds, Monica heard no footsteps entering her room—only the sound of an increasing crowd gathering in the corridor: "What's going on?" "It doesn't sound like a storm." "Is someone playing a prank?" "Damn fool! If I knew who it was, I'd kick his bottom right off!" "...The voices of discussion rose and fell, interwoven with various curses. At first, Monica didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Instead, she listened intently to the murmurs of the crowd outside, carefully pondering the strange circumstances of this event, intending to record it in her travel journal. But as the conversation continued, she began to sense something was amiss: How could the Iris Inn in Utopia be hosting so many guests? She was certain that on the floor where she was staying, only five rooms—counting her own—had occupants. At that very moment, Monica recalled the ghost stories she had read and heard before, and suddenly felt as though the figures outside were all spectral, their shadows lingering. Originally, she had reached out her foot toward the bed, preparing to step out, join the discussion, gather more details, and collect material for her writing. Yet, with a sudden jerk, she pulled her foot back, curling into a tight ball, trembling all over. A few seconds later, she heard a man saying, "I asked the hotel manager, and he said he had no idea what had happened—perhaps there was a brief storm just now. 'Go back to your rooms and rest,' he said. 'Lock the doors and windows. I'll have to get up early tomorrow to visit the Royal Museum.' "The Royal Museum... Monica froze. As a travel writer and someone who had lived in Utopia for a long time, she certainly knew that there was no Royal Museum here. In the Kingdom of Run, such a museum would surely be located in Beckett. And it would take many hours by steam train from Utopia to Beckett—no matter how early she got there, she wouldn't make it in time to reach the Royal Museum before it closed. Monica hesitated, slowly lifting the blanket, and heard the sounds of doors and windows closing one after another. She carefully got out of bed and walked toward the door. As she did, she gradually became aware of the room illuminated by the moonlight. Phew… Monica was on the verge of screaming. This wasn’t the room she had previously slept in at all! The layout and the décor were completely different! The ghost stories she had just recalled surged back into her mind, making her legs go weak and nearly unable to support her body. As Monica’s teeth clicked together with a rhythmic "click-click-click," she noticed a hotel card placed on the table—one meant for guests to carry with them when they went out, so they wouldn’t lose their way upon returning. Even if she didn’t read, it could be used to ask someone for directions. Without thinking, Monica stepped closer, using the moonlight to make out the words on the card: Carpenza Hotel, West Borough, 19 Moring Street. West Borough… West Borough… Monica’s eyes widened, and she felt a sense of temporal disorientation. ………… West Borough, Hillsdon District, in a house with a fireplace. Forsyth heard the creaking sound of doors and windows opening, but didn’t wake up immediately, as she was trapped in a strange, surreal dream from which she couldn’t free herself. She dreamed that her teacher, Dorian Gray Abraham, died in a bloody manner right before her eyes, sealed by the family’s incantations; she dreamed that she herself lost control and transformed, becoming a series of shimmering, curving star-like creatures that instinctively flew toward a door made of flesh; she dreamed of the end of the world, with a surging tide of blood engulfing the entire planet, and that even Hux and Germán Sparrow could not escape. Finally, Forsyth broke free from the dream, sat up, and gasped for breath. As a half-god, a former star-god, she knew what such dreams meant—she quickly composed herself and looked toward the front. The glass of the bulging window in the bedroom had completely shattered at some point. Something must have happened... something connected to the End Times, the Abraham family, and the Apprenticeship path... Folshe whispered these thoughts silently to herself, then rose immediately, donned her cloak, and prepared to "transmit" to her teacher to check on his well-being. This shift had instilled in her a renewed sense of urgency regarding the promotion ranks—now even reaching Sequence 2. —Since learning of the End Times from Mr. The Fool and Mr. Germain Spalro, Folshe had been making efforts, yet the "Secret Mage's" potion was no easy task to absorb in short order, and she felt uncomfortable asking her teacher for the "Wanderer's" formula and ingredients without having made tangible contributions herself. Of course, she could easily obtain it from Mr. The Door, but how could she be persuaded when she had already been given clear advance notice? A flash of movement, and Folshe vanished from the room. A few seconds later, she appeared at Dorian Gray Abraham's residence and saw her teacher sitting there, pressing gently on her chest, looking startled. "Would you like a potion?" Furse asked carefully. She had recently purchased some treatments for age-related ailments from the "Moon" gentleman. Dorian took a deep breath and shook his head. "No, thank you." Furse relaxed slightly. "Teacher, I dreamed you were affected by the negative impact of the seal—by the way, the windows and doors around me also changed unexpectedly, so I came to check on you." Dorian looked up at the open window, his expression serious. "Your dream was accurate. I narrowly escaped death just now, but at the most critical moment, the seal activated once again..." At this, he suddenly stood up and said to Furse, "Quick! Take me to another place—I'm worried about an unexpected incident involving the other family members!" "Vorths didn't hesitate—he immediately grasped his teacher's arm and asked for the precise location. Their forms quickly faded and became transparent, then vanished. After several seconds of moving through the layered patches of mist in the spiritual realm, Vorths and Dorian suddenly detached from their current surroundings and landed in what appeared to be a study. Several people stood there, all members of the Abraham family who held different seals and could thus 'travel.' 'Vilos? How did you all end up here?' Dorian asked aloud. Vilos and the others shook their heads, expressing both bewilderment and fear. The very next moment, countless brilliant stars emerged from the void. These stars swiftly coalesced into one object after another, settling onto the ground. Here lies a miniature portal of starlight, strands of crystalline spheres formed by creatures entwined together, semi-transparent keys of unusual design, and quietly blazing, radiant sparks... For no clear reason, Dorian, Velo, and the others found themselves mentally conjuring one after another a series of names: The extraordinary trait of Sequence 3, "Wanderer"... the extraordinary trait of Sequence 4, "Secret Mage"... the extraordinary trait of Sequence 1, "Star Key"... the extraordinary trait of Sequence 2, "Traveler"... Moreover, these were not single instances—indeed, even the "Star Key" trait of Sequence 1 appeared in two copies! The "Traveler" trait reached three copies, and others had even more. Several key members of the Abraham family, as well as Fols, gradually opened their mouths, unable to close them again. Once all the extraordinary traits had fallen and no further unusual occurrences took place, the atmosphere settled into quiet stillness.