NOVEL WEB Chapter 30: Unknown God
The safe sat in the containment chamber like it owned the place, glowing faintly under the enchanted lights. Its surface shimmered with magic, the runes etched into it pulsing as though alive.
It didn't belong to the Selkies. We'd checked. Rechecked. Triple-checked. Not a single Selkie had even seen the safe before it surfaced on the docks.
And yet, here it was—mysterious, unclaimed, and radiating a kind of energy that made the air feel heavier.
It looked innocent enough—if you didn't count the fact that it has some connection to the magic depression found in Coralites.
I stared at the rusted, barnacle-encrusted safe sitting in the MECCP lab like it was Pandora's Box.
Well, it might as well have been, considering the doomsday conversation I'd just stumbled into.
War? Berserk creatures? Attraction magic? And to top it off, magic tied to an Unknown God—a dead one at that.
This was not what I signed up for.
Fiona stood nearby, her arms crossed, an aura of authority radiating from her. And not the "I'm-your-senior-so-listen-to-me" kind of authority, but the ancient, divine kind that made it clear she wasn't just another research field assistant. Fiona was a demigod, and moments like these made it painfully obvious.
Her eyes, sharp and golden like molten sunlight, flicked to me. "This isn't just any safe, Carl. The magic it holds… it's attraction magic. It has a canny similarity to the magic depression found in Coralites before."
I shifted nervously, the air around her practically crackling with divine energy. "So, this magic—it also made the Coralites go berserk?"
Fiona nodded, her gaze returning to the safe. "Yes. But it's more than that. This magic doesn't just influence emotions—it amplifies them. Fear becomes paranoia. Excitement becomes frenzy. Anger…" She let the word hang in the air like a guillotine.
"…becomes war?" I finished, my voice barely a whisper.
"Exactly."
Dr. Philippe, ever the calm and collected presence, was poring over the readings from the containment field. He adjusted his glasses and said, "What's concerning is that this isn't isolated. This type of magic has appeared before—always with devastating consequences."
Fiona's jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, the divine glow in her eyes flared. "The last time this magic was used, it led to the Ancient Realm War. Thousands of lives lost. Entire ecosystems destroyed. And the one responsible for wielding it was the Unknown God."
"Unknown God?" I repeated, trying to keep up.
Dr. Philippe glanced at me. "A rogue deity. Ancient, powerful, and enigmatic. He had no followers, no allies. Just raw, destructive magic. He's been dead for centuries… or so we thought."
I blinked. "Wait. Dead? Then who's using his magic now?"
"That's the question," Fiona said grimly. "The Unknown God was a loner. No disciples. No descendants. His magic shouldn't exist anymore. But this safe…" She gestured to the glowing object. "This safe tells a different story."
The room fell silent except for the faint hum of the containment field around the safe.
"Wait," I said, my voice rising in panic. "Are you saying there's a lunatic out there who's somehow gotten their hands on war-starting magic and is just… planting it places?"
Fiona didn't answer immediately. Her eyes darkened, her face set in a grim mask. "That's the worst-case scenario. But if it's true, then we need to figure out who they are—and fast. Because if this magic spreads…"
"We could be looking at another war," Dr. Philippe finished, his voice heavy.
I felt the blood drain from my face. War? I didn't sign up for war. I signed up to care for magical creatures, do some conservation or research work, and maybe deal with the occasional cranky dragon or egotistical Kraken.
Not this.
"Let's take a step back," I said, raising my hands in a futile attempt to keep the panic simmering in my chest from boiling over. "We don't even know what's inside yet. Can't we just... open it and see?"
Dr. Philippe, his ancient elven features unusually tense, gave me a sharp look over his glasses. "This is not some ordinary safe, Carl. You don't simply open something infused with volatile magic."
"But we need answers," Fiona chimed in. Her usual calm demeanor was cracked, replaced by a steely determination. "The Coralites are still recovering from their madness. If this magic spreads again—"
"I get it," I interrupted, my voice pitching higher than I intended. "I just… I don't want to be the guy blamed for kickstarting a second mythical war, okay? I'm just an intern."
Philippe snorted. "You've said that before."
"And I'll keep saying it until someone listens!" I snapped, then sighed. "Fine. If we can't open it, then how do we figure out where it came from?"
Fiona tapped her chin thoughtfully. "The aura signature matches that of the PinkCorals incident. That gives us a lead, but it's not definitive. We'll need to cross-reference it with older magical records."
"Records?" I asked, already dreading the answer. "Like… ancient, cryptic, likely-cursed records?"
"Exactly," Fiona confirmed, too cheerfully for my taste. "And the best place to start is the Olympus Grand Archives."
******
By the time we arrived at Olympus, my nerves were shot from imagining a thousand ways this could go wrong.
The shining city of the gods sprawled across the peak of the world like a beacon, its marble columns gleaming against a backdrop of eternal clouds. It was beautiful, sure, but walking among deities was unnerving.
One wrong move, and I'd end up as a smear on the sidewalk.
The Grand Archives of Olympus was a colossal structure that towered even above Zeus's temple. Its entrance was guarded by automatons shaped like lions, their glowing eyes scanning every visitor.
Inside, the air buzzed with energy, as though the very walls hummed with the recollections of knowledge stored within.
Rows upon rows of scrolls, tablets, and magical tomes floated in the air, suspended by shimmering golden threads. The scent of ancient parchment mixed with the faint tang of lightning, a constant reminder that we were in the gods' domain.
"Touch nothing," Fiona warned as we stepped inside.
"Do I look like someone who messes with ancient artifacts?" I shot back.
She gave me a look that screamed, Yes, absolutely.
******
Hours of searching turned up nothing useful. Well, nothing except an aching back and a newfound hatred for the gods' filing system.
It wasn't until Fiona unearthed a brittle scroll sealed in a warded case that things took a dark turn.
"It's a record of the Unknown God's fall," she said, her voice hollow as she read. "His magic didn't just vanish when he died. It splintered, attaching itself to objects of power scattered across Mythica."
"Like horcruxes?" I asked before I could stop myself.
Great. Harry Potter is here.
Philippe groaned. "Not everything is a reference to your human books, Carl."
"Sorry, it's just... that's what it sounds like!" I defended myself.
Fiona ignored our banter, her brows furrowed. "Here. It says his magic wasn't inherently destructive, but when amplified—"
"—it drives creatures mad," I finished grimly. "Like the Coralites."
"And possibly others," she added. "If someone is collecting these fragments..."
My stomach twisted. "You mean weaponizing them."
*****
We returned to the lab with more questions than answers. The safe sat there like a smug puzzle piece, daring us to solve it.
"So," I began, pacing in front of it, "we've got a dead god's magic, a safe no one claims, and the Coralites' meltdown potentially tied to this thing. Oh, and let's not forget the looming threat of war." I threw my hands up. "What's next? A prophecy?"
"Prophecies are overrated," Philippe muttered, poking at the safe with a wand-like tool. "But conspiracies? Those are far more common."
"Not comforting," I grumbled.
Fiona cleared her throat. "There's one more thing."
"Of course there is," I groaned. "Hit me with it."
"The attraction magic in this safe isn't just any kind. It's... tuned." She hesitated. "It's designed to target specific beings."
I froze. "You're saying this safe isn't random? It's a trap."
"Exactly."
"Great." I sank into a chair, feeling the weight of everything crush down on me. "So now we're not just dealing with a mystery safe. We're dealing with someone who knows exactly what they're doing."
It was Philippe who broke the tense silence. "The Unknown God had no disciples," he began slowly, "but there was a faction—a cult—devoted to him during his time."
Fiona stiffened. "You don't mean—"
"The Theos of Agnos," Philippe confirmed.
The name sent a chill down my spine, even though I had no idea who they were. "Okay, creepy name. Who are they?"
"A group of zealots," Fiona explained, her voice tight. "They believed the Unknown God's death was a mistake, that his power should have been preserved."
"And you think they're behind this?" I asked.
Philippe nodded gravely. "It's possible. If they're gathering fragments of his magic, they could be planning to revive his influence—or worse."
"Worse?" I laughed weakly. "What's worse than reviving a god?"
"Using his power to control Mythica," Philippe said darkly.
I stared at the safe, my mind racing. Everything about this screamed danger. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that walking away wasn't an option.
"So," I said, standing up, "what's the plan? Because sitting here won't stop whoever's behind this."
Philippe gave me a look that was equal parts pride and concern. "The plan, Carl, is to find out who this safe belongs to—and why it was left where it could cause so much harm."
"And if we're too late?" I asked.
Fiona's expression darkened. "Then we make sure war doesn't happen. No matter what it takes."
As we prepped for the next step in this increasingly terrifying mission, a low, guttural growl filled the lab. The air turned icy, and the lights flickered ominously.
We all froze.
"What was that?" I whispered.
Philippe's face was pale. "That," he said quietly, "is the magic in the safe... reacting."
Reacting to what?
Before I could ask, the safe began to glow, pulsing with a sinister light.