Chapter: 01 A White Veil in the Dark Aisle

Footsteps echoed through the abandoned dungeon stairs as if they could not be forgotten. Color has long ceased to exist in the depths no light could reach. Rusty grates offered glimpses that could teach even the bravest people horror. The clacking of a white woman's shoes followed the depths like a rhythm. She was slender, perhaps even skinny as a ghost itself. Nothing had changed in hundreds of years. Even the souls that haunted the deepest corridors of hell had grown accustomed to the sight of the frail woman. Like bloody mud, they clawed at the veil-like clothing, searching for the last warmth that could be found in these depths. A final memory of the world of the living, which had long faded. In absolute horror, nothing got a name at the last station of the living. A terrible place that was never named, never visited, and finally ignored. It was long forgotten what this staircase served for. Broken signs and rusted doors were the only things that showed these buildings had been used in the past.

The steps that had the length of eternity ended, and the woman entered a long, straight corridor decorated in spooky broken stone.

Cries of long-dead souls rasped through the white mist that seemed to scratch their fingers bloody at the walls containing them. A dress whiter than the fog itself followed the frosted wind. Like a veil of soul, it pulled everything that yearned for warmth behind it. Silver loose hair shimmered like the moon and went up to her shoulder before it all went into a braid that reached her feet. Her eyes were closed, and only a few knew why.

For centuries, the woman descended these stairs, working on her creation. But each time, she had to leave the catacombs empty-handed. Few remembered why she went through the veil of hell, from which few could return. And yet she walks through the depths without hesitation.

The white woman had given everything to make it possible, but it was not enough. Time was cruel and seemed absolute to her. She could not go back, even if she wanted it so much. Old fragments buzzed in her head. Perhaps thousands of years old, yet they freshly bled the yearning soul. For such a long time, she had not seen her mother. The separation was painful. It was amazing to search for her mother's soul, pick it up, heal it, and create a new living body in the distant future. But with each passing day, the glimmer in her heart faded as her mother's soul remained in oblivion.

Day in and day out, she did the work expected of her. The years passed, but the soul that was searched for did not return to the river of rebirth. Each past day seemed like a dungeon; bars prevented the woman from leaving the dilapidated place and deprived her of any drive. At first, she neglected her work and dreamed only half-heartedly. Only a few beings who inhabited hell complained. But little by little, the lack made itself felt. Processes were blocked, and souls missed the jump into the infinite river. It took some time for her to find herself again. The woman preferred to spend her time in her room, throwing lumps of paper against the wall and thinking of the old times when her head could sleep on a warm lap.

Day in and day out, screams shook the rooms, trembled the bones, and made her jump in fear. Shiro was still a naive young girl; her hope that everything would improve still illuminated the soul's core. Whether the soul still exists or has been destroyed, she could not say, and yet she did not give up the endless search. She simply had to succeed one day. At least she firmly believed in it. As long as this conviction is not shaken, Shiro will forever seek a solution.

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Hell was a place that connected all the surrounding worlds. Souls and energies are healed there and flushed into the eternal river into new times. Parchments that should record the founding date have long since crumbled into dust. But it is known that this core axis of worlds did not exist at the beginning of time. –––– Originally, there were five floors. The deepest corners were used to lock away beings to never see the light of day. But with time and the wars of the Old Gods, these places fell into oblivion until only a few knew of their existence.

Book unknown: River of Worlds

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How much time had passed in the meantime, Shiro herself did not know. But for years, she had devoted herself to the study of time and space. She searched other worlds for high-energy signatures. The belief to break out of time and change it became greater than ever. She was close, and she knew it. But the Supreme Authority was not allowed to know about the plan, as playing with time was considered taboo. But for years, she was ready to do whatever was necessary.

Tiny white spiders with red eyes clanked across the corridors and transported boxes of the utmost importance, tied together with spider threads of the highest quality. Only some packages of the boxes belonged to the woman. The spiders paused to give a respectful bow as they passed. Red eyes sparkled in the dark hallway from the little light cast by torches. In every single glance, she saw the rays of joy. The woman hadn't been down here in a while, and her spider children rejoiced. She knew she had to take a day off and spend it with her family. Her kin had earned it. Alone in the most desolate place of hell, the spiders worked without rest and only saw her when she came down to check and further do research.

The slow steps shooed the swathes of lost souls as she left the last stair, entering the long corridor. The white mist moved through the corridors and etched on the walls, trying to escape the labyrinth. The restless spirits had been lost in the catacombs for far too long. It was time to lead them back to the right path. The screaming and howling made the whole lower wing tremble. After 10 minutes, a heavy door stretched out. Like a dam, it stood in the white mist and prevented vengeful spirits from entering.

With her delicate fingers, the woman stroked the frosty iron from which light steam emanated. The pale hands, white as bones, finally pressed against the heavy iron. Loud and ominous creaks filled the doorway, scaring the souls away from their surroundings. The woman's much-desired silence had returned. A slight grin peaked over her lips as the deathly silence encased the corridor.

Behind the door, a construct revealed itself, so abstract that one could not describe it. It was white and black. Squares, circles, and other shapes circulated it, rigid as death and pulsating as if it were alive. It was something beyond the mortal understanding and would crush every human if they got in contact. With a loud bang, the door slammed into the iron, kicking up dust that had plagued the premises for years. She walked to the center with light steps and stopped before a display.

"Numbers?" she asked gingerly, surprised by the event. "After all this time, it actually found something?" The usually emotionless face was petrified with shock. She needed a moment to compose herself before joy flooded her body and her cheeks flushed.

The woman tapped the air, and the structure vibrated in response. With a squeak of tainted joints, it slowly began to move. Cubes, spheres, and abstract shapes arranged themselves in a constellation. A red light came from the center and projected numbers again. Her eyes were closed, but the red numbers reflected off her sweaty eyelids.

"No doubt...". Her lips pressed together and formed the first happy smile in years. "After all these years, I finally found something. An energy source I can use to bridge the laws of time."

The hand of the woman circled through the air, and the machine accelerated explosively. Lightning crackled, and blue lines formed in front of her face. Fingers, elegant as a dancer, weaved through the threads as pure as the sky. More and more red threads clung like parasites to the pristine blue string of destiny. It was not something that should have normally happened, but the woman did it anyways. Her knowledge of space and dimension crafting was unparalleled. But in the end, everything has to obey rules; it didn't take long before black knots formed at the connection point.

"Mhhh, unfortunate." The woman stopped and massaged her forehead. Some red threads were rotting, and she had no choice but to separate them before they corrupted her entire process. "That I also have to abide by the rules..."

She tried countless times to weave the threads onto the blue line. But each time, it rotted. The hair wiggled vigorously and impatient around her waist. The room reeked of rotted magic and sweat. It is impossible to describe such a smell, and one can only understand it by experiencing it. Each attempt failed. She could not participate herself; only a copy of her existence would get permission.

Direct travel was not possible either. The woman; specialized in space and Dimension magic, but the place was so far away that even she could not imagen it. Stepps echoed through the room as she wandered around the machine, wondering if she had made a mistake. But the world with which the machine made contact was too complicated even for her. The steps came to a halt, and she glanced at a neatly groomed portrait. For a brief moment, she opened her eyes. A woman with black hair and a cape of eight stripes stood on the shelf. Framed in a noble painting. It was the most important thing in her possession.

"It doesn't help, I guess." She gently polished the glass with her sleeve and returned to her display. "However, nothing should stop me from throwing more energy into the pot to use later."

The woman continued to weave threads of different colors and numbers. Sweat ran down her chin; several hours had passed, and the croaking screams whispered again in her ear while she wove the last segments into the magic rune.

It was high time to shoo the souls out of the basement; working under the screams twisted by despair seemed almost impossible for her. But eventually, the formation was complete. It had a complexity that probably no one in hell would even begin to understand. But there was one last thing missing. Juggling a black sphere, which contained an enormous space of four levels, between her fingers, she placed it on the string. It was the place where she was born. And she would use it. It was the site of her most important battle, where her mother also took part.

"I don't think I can cheat more advantages into the game. The spatial construct is already extremely unstable. But in this place, even the most powerful warriors should fall. Because this will be my absolute domain," she hummed to herself happily, stroking the threads that had cracked under her touch one last time, and went to the other display. With a few commands, everything slid into the construct. The cubes, spheres, and other objects that fell around the center offered no resistance.

After 10 minutes, the lines reached the center and fell into place. The circling objects slowed down with each revolution and transformed into circular objects. Like magnifying glasses, the strands flowed through the opening and got amplified from the other side before being projected into the machine's center. Now all that was missing was the woman's data, which she wanted to send into the distance to gather pure energy.

The woman undid the long ribbons that held her dress and elegantly slipped out of her clothes, which she hung over the back of a chair. Exposed, the woman stood before the machine and gave the last start command.

A white beam flashed from a side hatch and hit her directly in the chest. Tingling, it crept over her white skin and made her hair stand on end. Like a film, it settled over the body and carefully scanned. It would be easy to stop the process, but it was essential for her plans. Information flowed back into the machine via the cable. Her muscles tensed as the magic formula crept into the pores and studied the body from the inside. Deeper and deeper, it followed the blood until it finally met and embraced her soul. The face twisted in disgust under the uncomfortable feeling.

The process took a few minutes before the data light cable flickered and was pulled back into the machinery. The naked body, drenched in sweat, glistened under the blue light of the strands now projected without deviation from the opposite side.

The woman shook and writhed. "It felt like a snail was crawling over my body."

She wiped the sweat with a towel before slipping back into her dress, swinging her braid around her chest, and binding the ribbons to hold her dress. One last time, she looked at the machine, giving final instructions and directions. It would be some time before the first piece of information returned due to the long distance. The heavy door opened, and the woman slowly exited the room. She had made all the preparations; the rest had to be done by her other self. But she had confidence. She had always accomplished what she had set out to do. And this time should not be different.

She had no idea how much time would pass before her copy sent the first answer, but time was not pressing. For the first time in hundreds of years, Shiro could focus on the work given to her by the highest Authority.

'I leave the rest to you.'

Then, with a loud crash, the heavy door shut.