Gods Archives

The iron door of the archives closed slowly, with a dull sound, like the lid of a sarcophagus falling. The night was cut off, leaving only rows of cold yellow lights in the corridor. The iron frame is towering, and the shadows on both sides overlap, like countless silent guards. The air is filled with the smell of aged paper, dry and slightly sour, like the breath of time. There is a newly delivered dossier on the table, with a white cover and no title, only a light gold symbol: similar to "Ω", but one stroke is missing. When the light passes over the edge of the symbol, it's like a tiny electric current cuts through the air. Ye Qi stared at it and hesitated for a moment. The life of an archivist has always been monotonous: registration, filing, numbering, and signing. But this time, there was an indescribable throbbing in my heart. He reached out a gloved finger and touched the cover. The fingertips felt cold, as if they had touched ink that had not yet cooled down. He slowly turned to the first page. There are four words written on it: "Roster of God's Chosen". The handwriting does not look like printing, but more like hand rubbing. The ink is bluish and has an ancient texture. Turning to the next page, a row of names was quietly arranged. But the names are not neat, some are very close to each other, and some have large blanks, as if they are waiting for something to be filled in. The pages quivered slightly in the windless air. The lights in the corridor suddenly flickered, and a crisp "click" came from the light tube. The air then sank, and the iron frame creaked softly, like a whisper coming from the depths of darkness. At that moment, he saw—— A line of names quietly emerged, the ink not yet dry: "Pray-leaf."