Text Manor.
Sunk into a soft sofa, Angel snapped his eyes open as if waking from a nightmare. He sat bolt upright, gasping for breath.
Sweat beaded across his forehead.
Even his hair was damp, with white steam rising from it.
It took a long while for his breathing to settle, but his head was still foggy. He slumped back into the sofa and waited for the dizziness to pass.
Five minutes.
Fifteen minutes.
Only after half an hour did Angel feel his thoughts begin to clear.
He had made a mistake.
He had assumed that because the writing on the crystal slab had already appeared before the public, its meaning probably wasn't hidden in the "deep sea." It should have been easy to retrieve.
But when he searched, he found no relevant information in the surface waters.
After a moment's hesitation, Angel sent his thoughts a little deeper.
At first, nothing felt wrong. He even began to think there might be no "undercurrents" beneath the surface. Perhaps the upheaval in the Dream Crystal Plain was finally ending.
Clinging to that hope, Angel probed deeper still.
Then he encountered a "spiraling undercurrent" of countless tangled pieces of information. Like an underwater tornado, it caught his thoughts the instant they touched it and dragged them down.
His thoughts spun as they sank into the deep sea, while countless streams of information tried to force their way in.
Though "force" wasn't quite the right word.
As far as those streams were concerned, Angel was the wielder of the authority, so they were naturally drawn to him. Their way of drawing close was to offer themselves up for him to possess.
That was why the flood of information surged so frantically toward his thoughts.
If Angel had been a legendary being, those streams