"There's no mention of any mythical treasure in this book," Ranjan muttered, his voice trembling in the small, empty room. "I've read it twice. Are we even sure this is the real Shamrico? It only speaks of history… and what's yet to come."

On the bed, Alvin stretched and yawned lazily. His body gleamed under the dim light — eight perfect abs carved like stone, skin cool and pale. He stood there half-naked, unbothered, while his elder brother sat beside the desk, voice calm yet heavy.

"The Moa Island we attacked… It's the real one, isn't it?" Ranjan's tone carried a quiet fear.

Alvin slipped on a plain white T-shirt, eyes still fixed on the old book lying open before them. "The Book of Future Shamrico gives no clue about the mythical powers or the cave water that allowed us to land outside Winland," he said flatly. "So what does it actually tell us?"

Ranjan's gaze lowered. A faint grin curved beneath his calm expression — the kind that hides a thousand thoughts. "It tells that something is about to happen," he said softly. "Soon, a war will rage. And after that… the Executive War will lead this world into a different era."

The air thickened. A strange scent of depth — like wet earth and burning metal — drifted across the room as Ranjan spoke. Alvin sat in silence, listening, every word digging deeper.

"This book says," Ranjan continued, "that we're living in the Seventh Epoch. Six have already passed. Some were nature's play, some mankind's, and some… the doing of outer beings. But this one — this epoch — everyone will play."

Silence followed. The clock ticked faintly in the background.

After a long pause, Alvin asked quietly, "Does it tell about us? What happens to us in this era?"

Ranjan leaned back, eyes half-lidded, voice dropping to a low murmur."What's about to come next," he said, "will be so grand, so vast… that we Tideborn will all be remembered only as Tideborn — nothing more, nothing less."

He brushed his fingers over the book's cover — the cracked leather gleamed faintly in the pale light." This book doesn't specify the groups within the Tideborn," he continued. "But it says the activities of the Tideborn will create such tension across the world that thirty-one nations will unite in fear. They'll form an alliance to destroy every last Tideborn — and that alliance will be called the World Organisation Chakra… WHC."

A long silence followed. Alvin's brows furrowed.

Ranjan's tone grew heavier. "We Tideborn will have no choice but to form our own alliance — just to survive this tide. The book mentions only one group by name… Vaiven."

The sound of that word hit the air like thunder — and for a moment, the room itself seemed to freeze.

Alvin blinked, disbelief in his voice. "Wait… it was written about Vaiven?"

Ranjan inhaled deeply, his calm face shadowed by the flickering light. "Yes. The book states that Vaiven will show interest in a specific Tideborn group. It doesn't reveal the name of that group, but it hints — Their name will be inspired by the misunderstanding of the Sixth Epoch's prodigy."

He paused, looking at Alvin with a quiet, knowing look."And you know, Alvin… the Sixth Epoch is remembered as The Grand Era."

Alvin's eyes narrowed. "And what about the past… does this book say anything?"

Ranjan nodded slowly. He spread his legs, resting one on the bed, settling into a more comfortable posture. His gaze drifted to the ceiling as he began to speak, calm but deliberate.

"Yes. Five hundred years ago, an era ended — known as the Grand Era. That era lasted 217 years, a time of kingdoms rising and falling, beasts and powers clashing, and at the center of it all…"

"Mythical Power"

He leaned back, voice lowering with weight. "Before that… five thousand years ago, the Fifth Epoch occurred. Twenty thousand years ago, the Fourth. One hundred thousand years ago, the Third. Five hundred thousand years ago, the Second. And one million years ago… the First Epoch."

Alvin's jaw tightened, absorbing the enormity of time.

Ranjan continued, voice deepening, "The early three epochs were dominated by nature — vast populations of giant animals, forces untamed and wild. The Fourth and Fifth Epochs shifted toward humans, though some outer powers were involved. That was the era of the world wars, when kingdoms and civilizations clashed with almost unimaginable devastation."

A quiet pause followed. "Then came the Grand Era," he said, his eyes glinting. "A culmination, a summary of all previous epochs. The book states it was the first time communities manipulating the course of epochs became visible — their actions encountered directly. Besides that..

In the Grand Era, there was a kingdom that ruled an entire continent, larger than Winland… Shorika."

He let the name hang in the air, the weight of history pressing down like a storm.

Alvin's eyes widened in curiosity, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as moonlight flickered across his features. Somewhere across the ocean, a cool breeze carried the scent of salt and night.

"Brother… this is an interesting book." His voice trembled with excitement. Before Ranjan could respond, Alvin snatched the tome from his hands, flipping through its ancient pages with eager fingers. "I have to read more. This… this book is a real treasure."

His fingers lingered on the parchment, tracing the faded ink as he swiveled the pages. And then he stopped. A hand-drawn illustration stared back at him—dark, unnerving, and almost alive.

It depicted a man, draped in thousands of bead necklaces, dancing wildly amidst a pile of corpses. The motion captured in the sketch was inhuman, grotesque, and chilling.

Alvin's breath caught. "Who… who is this?" he whispered, the question barely audible, swallowed by the still night.

The shadows in the room seemed to lean closer, as if the image itself was waiting for an answer.

Image of a not-so-human figure looking at him, his half-naked body seemed to carry a smell.

"It's him." The observer.

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