Dreams, nightmares, vividly lucid hallucinations … and most of all; PAIN.

This was the recurring theme during the time Zavier spent unconscious. When the young man finally stirred from the abyss of endless nightmares that had threatened to swallow him, a flood of memories and pain besieged Zavier like a host of enemies lying in ambush.

Not even affording him time to collect himself, all the previous worries that had plagued him before rushed towards the surface of his mind, and with blinding speed they latched onto his consciousness like parasites, feeding off of his paranoia and enflaming his already deep seated fear of the unknown.

Zavier's eyes slowly opened and the first thing he saw was Alissa dozing off next to him. Clearly she had been assigned the duty of watching him, but even at a task as simple as this, Alissa had somehow managed to botch it.

For a minute, Zavier found out he couldn't move. His eyes rolled about frantically as the fear of death intensified with each passing second that he remained paralyzed. His mind was fully conscious, but it was almost as if his body was yet to awaken.

His eyes on Alissa, he tried his best to scream out. But his body didn't respond. The empty silence mocked him, amplifying his fear of dying like a helpless chicken.

After an agonizing twenty seven seconds of sleep paralysis, Zavier gradually began to regain control over his own body. Very slowly, he rolled over on his side. The moment he attempted to sit up, a surge of horrendous pain greeted Zavier.

It took the whole of his will power not scream out loud. He gritted his teeth firmly and grasped the sheets. To him, it felt like he had slammed his head against a brick wall while he was unconscious, and he was only just feeling the pain now. He remained still for a moment hoping the pain would pass, it didn't.

He focused on his surroundings and tried to listen for any clues as to what might be happening.

Thankfully, he heard the vague voices of Dahila and Valarie outside. His mind welcomed the familiar voices gleefully.

Zavier decided to take full advantage of the privacy and confer with the Multisystem. He had a ton of questions that required immediate attention. He called on the system.

"Multisystem?"

Even in his mind, his tone was charged with frantic worry. The system replied him promptly;

"Yes Zavier?"

Another wave of pain swept through his frontal lobe and Zavier grimaced. He waited a couple more seconds before he continued with his inquiry.

"Have I in anyway been subjected to an illusion spell?"

The system's replies were almost always instantaneous. But this time, for some reason, it lingered for a while before answering him.

Even before the system replied him, Zavier already dreaded the answer.

"The multisystem currently cannot answer that question."

The agitated Zavier asked the most logical follow up question;

"WHY???"

"Currently, the multisystem cannot detect an illusion spell because that ability is contained in the Mesmer system's advanced techniques which are yet to be unlocked."

Zavier didn't dwell on that particular bit of information longer than he had to. This was a serious problem that required the full attention of his mental faculties.

An illusion spell was no trifle matter. And the fact that he had been on the receiving end of such an artfully crafted illusion spell confirmed that he had been the intended target.

But why? To what end? Who was responsible for this? Who was close enough to him to have executed such a spell?

Zavier immediately went to breaking down the facts that were available to him. He had to start from the very beginning, which was when he had embarked on this mission.

As Zavier racked his brain, he deduced that there were only two viable possibilities and none of them looked good.

From his perspective, it was one of two things; either he had stumbled into an intricately woven web of illusion that had been spun by an advanced mage, or someone else had. It didn't take much deliberation for Zavier to know that the odds of the latter being the case was closer to zero than the former.

"Damn it!" he cursed inwardly;

"This does not look good at all! I can't even count on the objectivity of this damn system!"

Zavier's mind steered towards the people around him and another cold fact crept up on him with a chilling slyness.

His aunt Valarie was a top mage, if she had been with him all this while and hadn't noticed anything off, it simply meant that the illusion spell (and by default, its caster) was way beyond Valarie's scope of expertise.

Zavier's blood ran cold at this sudden realization. He had just managed to profile the invisible enemy and somehow, the enemy appeared to be more daunting than they appeared to be just a few minutes ago.

It was the motive behind all of this that baffled Zavier the most. It was the most pertinent question;

"Why would anyone cast an illusion spell so advanced on me?? To what end??"

It was clear to Zavier that if the enemy wanted him dead, considering his level of stealth, expertise and dexterity with spells, the enemy would definitely have dropped Zavier a long time ago.

So what was the purpose of this unholy dalliance? Zavier grasped his head between his palms in frustration. The storm of unanswered questions tormented him, they were tearing him apart from the inside out, threatening to drive him crazy.

With his head bent in frustration, just as Zavier was about to close his eyes, his eyes led him to his first clue; right on his waist was the wooden box. But it wasn't just the box, it was the keyhole that stole Zavier's attention.

A fresh surge of hope swept Zavier off his feet. He gingerly unhooked the box and examined the keyhole. He was suddenly overwhelmed with a strong desire to open the wooden box.

For some reason, Zavier made a connection between the key he had in the basement in the middle of nowhere and the keyhole on the wooden box in his hand.

A part of Zavier felt like he was grasping for straws, but at this point, Zavier couldn't be deterred. He had found a streak of light in an otherwise dark tunnel and he was determined to chase it all the way through.

Expertly, Zavier summoned the key from the system. He whipped it out and took a closer look at it and juxtaposed it with the keyhole.

They appeared to match. Zavier's mind started to reel with the possibilities of what awaited him inside the box.

There was a rule that bound employers and employees when it came to delivering packages. It was more of a code than a rule, but it stated clearly that no one but the employer was qualified to open a protected box/package.

Even in dire situations, this rule was to be respected no matter the cost. Zavier was well aware of this rule, but at this time, he had already entered into a frenzy.

He looked and acted like he had been taken over by something else, almost as if he was possessed. His eyes were bloodshot, his facial expression resembled that of a crazy person's. Even his ears seemed to pick up on eerie whispers that were actively spurring him on, encouraging him in inaudible whispers to open the box.

His arms trembled even as he held on to the box. The normally calm Zavier was now a nervous wreck. One thing and one thing only occupied the entirety of his thoughts; the content of the box.

He took a deep breath and slowly brought the key a little closer to the keyhole. Shaking with curiosity, Zavier sunk the key into the keyhole. He half-expected a genie to pop out or something out of the norm, but nothing happened.

The box simply remained as it was, waiting for Zavier to turn it to the side and reveal its secrets. The key fitted the keyhole like a glove. A soft click sounded, signaling the fact that they were a match.

The nervous Zavier fought desperately to rein in his excitement. He began to perspire profusely, great beads of sweat formed on his forehead and trickled down his face like small rivers seeking out their course. Just as he was about to turn the key, Valarie stepped into the tent.

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