When I said those words, Nox paused for a moment, then turned to look at Luma.

  A flicker of hesitation passed through her eyes as well.

  They were both silent for a few seconds.

  Then Nox looked at Luma with a firm expression.

  Luma sighed softly and finally nodded.

  “Come with us,” Nox said.

  I blinked in surprise but followed.

  They led me through corners of the house I had never explored, eventually stopping in front of a door I had never noticed.

  Nox reached out and pressed gently on a spot near the edge of the door.

  Click—

  The door slowly opened, revealing a staircase descending into the ground.

  Underground?

  I had no idea our home even had a basement.

  We walked down the steps. The floor beneath our feet was made of stone, and there was a faint scent of old books in the air.

  Nox walked ahead. When we reached the bottom, he flipped an inconspicuous switch—

  Suddenly, the entire wall lit up.

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  A soft glow spilled across the space, gently illuminating the whole basement.

  My eyes widened.

  It was... a world of books.

  Row upon row, shelf upon shelf, the bookcases stretched all the way to the ceiling.

  Books were stacked densely, like a silent waterfall.

  From the floor to the walls, every inch was filled with them.

  “This…” I couldn’t find the words.

  Nox didn’t answer.

  He walked to a corner and tapped a crystal resting by the wall.

  The crystal vibrated lightly, emitting a soft chime.

  The lighting in the room gradually shifted—growing warmer, like natural daylight.

  As if in a trance, I stepped toward one of the bookshelves and pulled out a book.

  It was old. The cover felt rough under my fingertips, but the pages were surprisingly well preserved.

  I opened it—and saw a line of handwriting I recognized immediately.

  It was Nox’s handwriting—casual, yet so neat it looked like it had been trained by an artist.

  And Luma’s too—elegant and delicate, like carefully calculated curves.

  But I couldn’t read the language inside.

  It didn’t belong to any writing system I had ever learned.

  I was about to ask—when I noticed something familiar among the pages.

  —Numbers.

  Modern decimal numbers—the kind Luma had taught me.

  “1892.”

  I froze.

  I stared at that number for a long, long time.

  1892.

  That was… a thousand years ago?

  Suddenly, the book in my hands felt heavy. Like it was pressing against my breath.

  I looked up at Nox, my eyes filled with confusion and shock.

  He simply said,

  “We were never able to forget.”

  “But writing it down, reliving it… has its own charm.”

  I frowned.

  “If you can’t forget... why keep records at all?”

  Nox shrugged.

  “Who knows.”

  I gently returned the book to its place—and drew another.

  The year: 2203.

  Another—2030.

  And another… 350.

  I stood there, frozen.

  These books spanned countless eras.

  In that moment, my mind nearly stopped functioning.

  Nox watched me, waiting patiently for me to take it all in. Then he asked gently,

  “Why the stunned look?”

  I couldn’t answer.

  Too many thoughts were swirling in my head.

  Nox stepped closer and said with a warm voice,

  “It’s hard to understand, I know.”

  “But tonight—I’ll tell you more.”