The dream began in ughter.

  Not the kind that warms, but the hollow ctter of painted mouths, echoing from striped tents that leaned and sagged like broken teeth. The circus stretched endlessly in every direction, red and white canvases under a bck sky without stars.

  Children cheered.Clowns danced.Jugglers tossed fire that sputtered like dying suns.

  And at the center of the ring y the Tome of Light.

  It pulsed, each throb a blinding fre that made Lea's scars ache. Its pages turned on their own, filled not with words but with screams written in ink too white to look at.

  Her breath hitched. She was back there. Again.

  The ringmaster bowed with grotesque grace, his top hat bending too far, his teeth too many, "Step right up!! Witness the girl who let the culprit go free!!"

  The crowd roared, stamping their feet, chanting, "Free!! Free!! Free!!"

  Lea's heart pounded. She could see him—the culprit. His face blurred, featureless, yet she knew. She had seen him. She had let him walk away. And now the circus celebrated her failure, throwing confetti made of torn contracts and bloodied feathers.

  "No...", she whispered, clutching her chest, "I tried. I—"

  But the Tome of Light shone brighter, its voice rising, not words but judgment, drowning her. Pages ripped themselves free, fluttering into the sky like wings that burned away the stars. They fell around her, binding her arms, her throat, her will.

  "You failed."

  "You failed."

  "You failed."

  The crowd sang it. The Tome sang it. Even her own heartbeat sang it.

  The ground split beneath her feet, and the circus fell into the abyss. She fell with it, the white pages twisting into chains that dragged her down.

  Her screams went silent. Darkness swelled.

  And then—

  A smell. Faint, clean, and familiar.

  Chalk.

  Thin white lines began to stretch across the dark, like a child's drawings on bck stone. They erased the circus tents, the clowns, the Tome's blinding glow. They erased the judgment, the chains, the abyss.

  Lea opened her eyes.

  And she stood before a throne of chalk dust.

  Upon it sat a figure regal and still, draped in gowns made of folded diagrams and blueprints, a crown of broken gears resting above where a face should have been. Faceless, yet undeniable. The air thrummed with her presence, vast and intricate.

  The Chalk Princess, the Goddess of Technology.

  Lea's knees buckled, not from command but from awe. The silence pressed down like a cathedral, yet she could feel the gaze. A faceless goddess, and still she was being watched.

  Watched, measured, weighed.

  The Chalk Princess said nothing.

  And yet Lea knew that her sins, her failures, the chains of the Tome, and the circus ughter were being seen. Not condemned nor forgiven. Simply... recorded.

  Lea trembled, clutching her arms, her voice cracking in the silence, "Why... why show me this?"

  The Princess tilted her head, the faint hiss of chalk scraping ste echoing in the void.

  But no answer came.

  Only the crushing certainty that the Goddess of Technology had marked her, and that silence was more terrifying than judgment.

  Lea woke with a jolt, her chest heaving as though she had just surfaced from drowning. Cold sweat slicked her skin, strands of hair pstered to her forehead. She clutched the bnket to her chest, knuckles white, her wide eyes darting across the darkened room as if expecting the faceless figure to still be there.

  Her lips trembled before words finally spilled out, raw and breathless.

  "Of all gods... why did it have to be Her?"

  Her brow furrowed, and she let out a shaky exhale, lowering her gaze to the floor. The words felt bitter on her tongue. The Chalk Princess, faceless, regal, silent. Yet somehow oppressive, her stare like chalk scratching across a board.

  Lea's expression twisted into a grimace, her cheeks tightening as if she could still feel that phantom gaze pressing into her soul.

  She hugged her knees close, curling in on herself. The corner of her mouth quivered, caught between a frown and something like a sneer.

  "Not the Three Rings...", she muttered, almost spitting the words, "Not the god I've followed my entire life. Not even some half-forgotten one with at least a shred of dignity."

  Her voice cracked, her throat tightening with an unsteady ugh. It was dry, humorless, spilling from her lips in thin gasps that died as quickly as they came. She pressed the heels of her palms against her face, dragging them downward until her eyes burned.

  "No. It had to be Her...", she whispered bitterly. "The newest goddess. Technology's chalk-dusted princess."

  Her lips pulled into a crooked grin, forced and brittle. She stared into the shadowed corner of the room, pupils shrinking, as though daring the darkness to confirm her worst fear.

  "Guess I'm her Blessed now, huh? Lea, servant of gears and chalk dust..."

  The grin faltered. Her face fell into silence again, her eyes clouded and distant. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating.

  She hugged herself tighter, trembling, unable to shake the lingering sensation that the Chalk Princess—faceless yet piercing—was still watching her.

  =0=0=

  Lea sat at the table with her arms folded tightly across her chest, her face pale and drawn. She avoided their eyes at first, staring at the grain of the wood as if it could swallow her words before they left her mouth.

  "I saw her...", she finally whispered.

  Her lips were cracked from the night's restless breathing, her voice carrying the residue of fear, "The Chalk Princess. She... she was just sitting there, faceless, but I knew. I felt her looking at me. Like she'd already written something across my bones."

  Auger gave a low chuckle, tilting his cane zily against his shoulder. His smirk was infuriatingly sharp, his gaze sliding over her like she was some amusing riddle he'd already solved.

  "Dreams of gods, hm? And here I thought you weren't clever enough to attract their attention."

  Lea's cheeks flushed with anger and shame. She snapped her head up, gring at him with wide, stung eyes.

  "I'm not asking for their attention!!"

  "Clearly not.", Auger replied smoothly, lips curving into a sly smile, "Yet here you are, babbling about chalk and faceless princesses. Either your mind is crumbling, or a goddess truly wasted her time on you. I wonder which is more tragic."

  "And, how many gods had you encountered already? The Maker's follower, for one, that book, now the Chalk Princess? Are you meeting gods for some sort of achievement?"

  Lea's throat closed up, and she sank back, biting down on her lip to stop it from trembling.

  Dawn, who had been quiet until then, leaned forward, her fingers cing carefully together. Her expression was calm, though her eyes betrayed something sharper, something almost reverent, buried in their depths.

  "The Chalk Princess is not known for idle gestures", she said softly, "If She appeared before you, even in dreams, it wasn't meaningless."

  Lea's gaze darted to her, half hopeful, half afraid, "Then... what does She want?"

  Dawn hesitated. For a moment, her composure slipped, a faint twitch of her lips, a shadow of thought too heavy to share.

  When she spoke again, her tone carried a deliberate gentleness, as though she'd forced the words into something manageable.

  "Perhaps...", she tilted her head slightly, "Perhaps She wishes for you to establish something. A circle, a sect... a church in her name, maybe. The Chalk Princess rose te, at the end of the st Era. Her following is still scattered, with the two biggest being MSSH and the Cult of Technology. She might be seeking hands to gather it."

  Lea stared at her, face pale, breath catching as though the suggestion itself were a curse. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came, only the shake of her head, frantic and small.

  Auger's ugh broke the silence again, low and rich, "A church? Led by her? Now that's comedy. You'd sooner trust a child to command a fleet."

  Dawn shot him a sharp look, but there was no venom, only tired exasperation.

  She turned back to Lea, her voice firmer now,"Don't dismiss it out of hand. Dreams can be warnings, or they can be calls. But they are never... accidents."

  Lea clenched her fists, her expression caught between dread and disbelief.

  "A church," she whispered hoarsely, her lips twisting. "Me, of all people...? I followed the Three Rings!!"

  The silence that followed pressed close, suffocating. Only Dawn's steady gaze kept her from splintering completely.

  Sighing, Lea stated, "I'll ask Lady Keter for advice..."

  And she chanted the Honorific Title right in front of them.

  The monochrome hush of the library seemed deeper than usual, the air thick with dust and the scent of old vellum. Lea's footsteps echoed softly as she approached the long table where Lady Keter sat, her hand resting zily on an open tome.

  Lea swallowed hard, fidgeting with the cuff of her sleeve.

  "I... I had a dream.", she began, her voice thin but determined, "About the Chalk Princess. She stood before me... I knew it was her. She didn't speak, but I could feel her staring at me. It was like she was... writing me into something I couldn't see."

  Lady Keter did not look up immediately. She turned one page, slowly, as though savoring the rasp of parchment against parchment. Then, with the faintest smile tugging at her lips, she lifted her gaze.

  "Ignore it.", she said simply, her voice cutting through the silence like a bde wrapped in silk.

  Lea blinked, her eyes wide, "Ignore it? But She's a god!! If she's reaching for me, doesn't that mean something? Dawn thinks—"

  "Dawn thinks too much, a fw of Erudition and its counterparts.", Keter interrupted lightly, closing the tome with a quiet thud.

  Her smile deepened, though her eyes were unreadable, "You, Dantes, are not meant to chase every shadow of the divine. Some visions are nothing but echoes, empty things that wear a mask."

  Lea's throat tightened, "Empty? What do you mean?"

  Keter tilted her head, resting her chin against her hand as though considering whether to indulge the question. At st, her words slipped out, quiet but deliberate...

  "The current Chalk Princess is nothing more than a hollow husk. A shell that remembers what it was meant to be but cannot act, cannot will, cannot reign. To be called by such a husk is no calling at all."

  Lea shivered, her fingers curling into her palms, "Then... then why did I see her? Why me?"

  Keter's smile turned sharper, almost pyful, her eyes glittering with a secret that seemed too heavy for the air.

  "Perhaps to remind you that even gods can be corpses. Or perhaps, to test whether you are foolish enough to chase them anyway."

  Lea stared, her breath caught between confusion and fear. She wanted to press, to demand an answer, but the way Keter's gaze pinned her made the words shrivel in her throat.

  At st, Keter leaned back in her chair, gesturing idly toward the shelves looming behind them, "Ignore it, my dear Avenger. Read your books and leave the husks to those who worship ghosts."

  The study came back into focus like water rushing from her lungs. Lea blinked hard, her breath shallow, the dim mplight of Auger's manor chasing away the suffocating monochrome hush.

  Her hands trembled as she steadied herself against the table, the phantom smell of chalk still clinging to her nose.

  She swallowed, forcing the words out before silence could choke them.

  "She told me to ignore it...", Lea said quietly. Her voice cracked, and she bit her lip before continuing, "She said the Chalk Princess... is just a hollow husk. Just... something left behind."

  The air in the room shifted sharply. Dawn straightened in her seat, her pale fingers curling over the armrest of the chair. For a moment, her usually calm composure fractured, her lips parting in disbelief, her brows drawn as though she'd just heard something bsphemous.

  "A husk?", Dawn whispered, her voice uncharacteristically unsteady, "No. That's— if the Princess is only a husk, then what have we been—"

  She stopped herself, pressing her lips together, but the tremor in her hands betrayed her.

  Auger watched her unravel with cool detachment, his cane tapping once against the floor. A low hum escaped his throat, as though her shock confirmed an old suspicion.

  "It makes sense.", he said at st, his tone measured, the faint curl of a smirk brushing his mouth, "Lady Keter once expined the concept to me. A god's existence is not like ours. When they ascend, the world remembers them, records them, fixes them into the fabric of reality."

  He leaned back, eyes narrowing, his voice turning colder, more precise, "Even if the original dies, the Divine Body persists. A necromancy of the highest order. The power of Memory, binding Imprints to act and speak long after the person is gone."

  His gaze lingered on Lea, sharp and deliberate, "So, you see, Lea, what you met may not have been the Chalk Princess at all, but her echo. A recording written by the world itself, carrying her image and weight as if nothing has changed."

  Lea shivered, her eyes wide, "Then... it really doesn't matter if she's dead or alive. The world will still make her... act?"

  "Precisely.", Auger said smoothly, "The world cannot allow its gods to vanish so easily. They remain, even as corpses. You kneel, you pray, you dream... and the husk answers. No different from the real deal."

  Dawn sat rigid, her chest rising and falling too quickly. Her eyes darted away, avoiding both of theirs, her jaw clenched tight as though she were biting down on a scream.

  Lea's stomach turned. She hugged her arms around herself, whispering to herself... then what I saw... what I felt... it wasn't even Her? Just the husk, just... a corpse pying goddess?

  Her words hung heavy in the study, and the silence that followed was worse than any answer.

  Dawn's throat constricted. She tried to steady her breath, but it rattled shallowly, betraying her calm mask. Her eyes lowered, shes trembling, as though to hide the storm cwing inside.

  She had dedicated prayers to the Princess in secret for years... her silent thanks whispered over blueprints and inventions, the reverence she never dared voice aloud. The goddess was supposed to be alive, a divine patron watching, guiding, inspiring.

  But now... a husk?

  Dawn's fingers tightened over the carved armrest until her knuckles whitened. Her whole body seemed caught between disbelief and nausea. She could feel Lea and Auger's eyes on her, but she couldn't bear to meet them.

  "A husk.", she repeated in a breathless whisper, as though saying it aloud might undo it. Her lips quivered into a brittle smile that colpsed as soon as it formed, "No. That's... that's wrong. She can't be just... gone. Not Her."

  Her voice cracked at the end, and she pressed her hand to her mouth, forcing the tremor down before it broke into something irretrievable.

  Auger tilted his head, watching her unravel with the faintest glint in his eye. His tone was soft, almost indulgent, but sharpened like gss beneath, "Is that devotion I hear in your voice, Mother of the Future?"

  Dawn flinched at the title. The name others gave her, yet it felt like mockery now. She shook her head too quickly, eyes wide, her composure slipping with every heartbeat.

  "I-I don't know what you mean.", she lied, poorly, "It's just... if gods can hollow out, if even She..."

  Her sentence withered away.

  Lea hugged herself, shivering, guilt washing over her. She gnced at Dawn's pale face, the fragile cracks showing through her usual poise, and for the first time, she understood, this revetion wasn't just disturbing for Dawn. It was shattering.

  Dawn finally spoke again, her voice ft and fragile, like a pane of gss ready to break.

  "If what you say is true, Auger... then all my prayers... all the answers I thought I received... they weren't Her at all. Just... something the world forced into pce."

  Her eyes finally lifted, shimmering faintly in the mplight. Not with tears, but with the raw, wounded ache of a believer whose god had been stripped away.

  "What is devotion worth, if all you ever kneel before is a husk?"

  The room froze around her words.

  Rhaps