He stopped instantly. His eyes narrowed, fixed on the small screen. One of the red dots on the map was now pulsing more strongly, almost as if to say: "This is the place."

He took a deep breath, then spoke quietly, "Alright."

His hand reached for the door and pushed it open. The hinges groaned softly, the sound of metal echoing down the corridor, thickening the already tense atmosphere. Alaric stepped inside and gently closed the door behind him.

The moment he entered, he froze.

The room was spacious, far larger than he had expected. The walls were lined with ornate panels carved in fine detail. A chandelier of crystal hung low from the ceiling, casting a warm golden glow that was both inviting and unsettling. At the center of the room, there were no tables or chairs, just a wide expanse of polished black marble floor left completely bare, as if intentionally.

Alaric stood still in the middle of the room, every muscle alert. His eyes scanned the surroundings carefully. To the right, a tall bookshelf stacked with thick, leather-bound volumes. To the left, a glass cabinet filled with strange items. Golden masks, silver daggers, and a small wooden box with a large key hanging in front of it.

But none of that was what made him freeze.

Up on the ceiling, directly above him, was a large symbol carved into the wooden paneling. It was a circle with spiraling lines inside, and at the center of it, a single eye. As though something was watching him from above.

Alaric looked up at it, unmoving, a chill creeping down his spine. In his heart, a whisper rose: "What is this place… really?"

He stepped further in, each movement followed by the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the marble floor. There was something in this room. Hidden, waiting. He could feel it.

Alaric's gaze wandered like a bloodhound tracking a hidden carcass, his rhythm precise and lethal. The room's walls appeared bare, as though it was a space devoid of purpose.

But unfortunately, he had a thousand experiences to prove that what looks simple often hides something that only the entity itself should uncover.

He exhaled slowly, squinting his eyes. "They can't be that foolish… leaving this room without a clear purpose." Alaric turned halfway around, making sure not to miss any corner.

The floor was clean, but he wasn't fooled. There could be many traces here, but they might have been erased... or hidden. The ceiling and supporting pillars also looked flawless. They were neatly installed without any suspicious gaps, which only made him more cautious. Perfection like this was often just a façade.

He spun around again, returning to face the direction he had come from, before turning his body once more. That feeling emerged. The instinct that was hard to explain, the certainty that something was indeed hidden here.

He wasn't looking for ordinary documents; paper could be easily destroyed. But photos, symbols, or even marks representing a group… those were more significant and enduring. And people like them, accustomed to secretive structures, almost always left behind symbolic clues to foster a sense of belonging that ran deep within them.

"The question now," Alaric muttered while tapping his fingers on his temple, "where did they hide it? If I were them… I wouldn't just stick it in a desk drawer. That's too cliché. A photo or symbol of an organization should be placed somewhere… honorable, but also hidden."

He walked slowly toward the right wall. The skin of his palm and fingers traced the surface of the paint, trying to feel for any subtle differences in texture. A moment later, his fingers knocked gently on the wall. The sound that emerged was flat, solid. Not hollow. He shifted his body half a meter and knocked on the wall again. This time... the sound was different... hollow. Alaric stopped, his lips curling into a slight smile.

"Interesting..." he whispered.

He took a step back, studying the wall more carefully. It felt like a puzzle. And Alaric knew that the more difficult they made it to hide, the more likely it was that something important was hidden behind it. But he wasn't in a hurry. Alaric had learned that behind every secret, there was often a trap set in place. If this really was a secret room of the group, there had to be some sort of protection, however small.

He lowered his gaze, inspecting the floor where it met the wall. His eyes caught a nearly invisible mark, a faint line that seemed to separate the wall panel from the main structure. He crouched down, swept his hand across it, and sighed. "Yeah... I knew it. There's a hidden panel."

He stood up again, pacing around the room, continuing to think. They couldn't have just left symbols or evidence lying around carelessly. If that panel hid something, it could be a photo of the organization, perhaps an emblem, or even something more concrete. Like a network map or a list of names.

"The average person would give up here," he murmured, almost talking to himself. "But the system already detected this room. That means… something important is hidden here."

Alaric crossed his arms over his chest, standing still in the center of the room once more. He let his mind cycle through all the similar cases he had worked on. He remembered how an underground group had once hidden its insignia behind a painting. He'd also found a secret photograph inside an old music box. Every group had its own way, but the core was the same... they always left something that could be recognized by members. Something that made them feel part of a family.

"So… let's see what you're hiding."

Alaric paused, his steps halting. His eyes briefly shifted back to the hollow part of the wall, but no. He couldn't be that reckless. He needed to use his energy to do something precise and efficient as quickly as possible. The voice in his mind echoed clearly.

"I need to shorten the time... if I inspect every corner and crack one by one manually… before I even think of capturing them, I might get caught myself."

Alaric took a deep breath. The silence around him made those words feel heavier. He knew that if they noticed even the smallest anomaly, or felt anything unusual in this place, his presence would be exposed immediately.

"And I need to be more careful." He then glanced at the door he had entered through.

"Damn, they could get suspicious… even if I leave behind just the smallest trace, or because of some odd vibe that's in this place. They live in constant vigilance, and that puts me on a razor-thin edge."

Alaric rubbed his face once, then looked up. His gaze hardened. He didn't want to rely only on his instincts, but it was time to call for some help.

"This time, I need more from you. Can you give me another clue? Or... maybe help me find what I'm looking for right now?"

As if responding to his call, the holographic system he carried reacted. Without any spoken answer or introduction, the air in front of him began to shimmer. A glowing orb of light appeared, floating about a meter from his face. The orb spun, emitting a soft, pulsating white-blue light, as if it had a heartbeat.

Then, a transparent progress bar materialized beside the glowing orb. Numbers began to increase rapidly: 12%... 37%... 68%... 89%... until it finally hit 100%. The whole process took only a few seconds, but to Alaric, waiting felt like an eternity. His heartbeat quickened with each passing number, hoping a map, symbol, or any clue would materialize.

But when the bar filled up, nothing happened. The glowing orb vanished immediately. The room fell silent again, as though nothing had happened.

Alaric froze. His brows furrowed slowly. "Is… that it? No clue? No direction? The system can't be wrong…"

And just as he was about to let out a disappointed sigh—

Plop.

An object fell and hit his head. Alaric jumped, instinctively rubbing the top of his head where it stung. He looked up at the ceiling, but saw only a plain, dusty surface. No hole, no crack, nothing that could explain where the object came from.

With swift movement, he bent down, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the object that had dropped onto the floor. His mouth reflexively muttered, "A pen...?"

He reached for it slowly, bringing it up close to his face. At first glance, the pen seemed ordinary. A sleek black body with silver details at the tip. But the more he studied it, the clearer it became that this was no ordinary pen. It was heavier, denser than a normal pen. The surface felt smoother, with a sharp sensation when it touched his skin.

Alaric rotated the pen in his hand. A small, strange effect appeared: a faint light illuminated along the body of the pen, forming patterns that were only visible when the pen was moved.

Alaric furrowed his brows. "This pen... it's not ordinary. Is this really a clue from the system? Or... could it be something used by the ones who lived here?"

He felt the cool metal pressing into his palm, but there was something else that made him pause longer: a small, shiny slip of paper hanging from the end of the pen. He hadn't noticed it until the pen was right in front of his eyes.

Carefully, he reached for the paper. It was small, only about the size of a name tag. The letters were neatly printed on its shiny surface.

["Use this pen to find anything with the best sensor signal."]

Alaric read the message several times. His expression shifted. Confused, intrigued, and... fascinated.

His eyes lingered on the pen. "A pen... as a clue? The system certainly has its own way of doing things. Alright then... let's see how far you can help me."

Though still filled with questions, his curiosity began to swell more strongly within him. He knew he shouldn't get too eager, but he couldn't ignore the possibility that this simple object might be hiding a much greater secret.

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