The signs weren't scattered anymore.
Everything was coming together. Every clue, every detail… they all pointed to one girl—Gabby.
Z-12 sat quietly in his lab, thoughts spinning as he tried to make sense of it all. That sword Gabby carried—it was no ordinary weapon. Its blade had a design unlike anything found in recent history. The curve, the handle, the inscriptions… they all hinted at something older. Something sacred.
Could it really be the Great Oparsin Sword?
That ancient weapon wasn't just known for its strength. According to the old texts, the sword responded to emotion, not just muscle. It moved with the heart and mind of the bearer. Its true power came from deep inside the soul, not just from the swing of an arm.
Z-12 leaned back, letting the thought settle in his mind.
If that sword was truly Oparsin… then Gabby wasn't just lucky to have it. She was chosen.
She was the bearer.
But the real question that haunted him was simple.
How?
How could she, a girl raised far from the ruins of ancient kingdoms, be tied to a forgotten legacy?
Z-12 turned back to the old book on his desk. He had been reading it earlier, but hadn't paid close attention to some parts. Now, something inside him urged him to keep reading. He gently flipped through the aged pages. Some were dry and fragile like dried leaves. And then, almost hidden in between faded ink and smudged notes, he found it.
"The people of Maghis, once noble and wise, were betrayed by those they trusted the most—the rulers of Bracadis."
The words hit hard.
The passage explained how the powerful Maghis kingdom fell. After being deceived by Bracadis, their royal family had tried to escape through tunnels hidden beneath the city. But their plan failed. They were caught before they could make it out.
The betrayal had come from one of their own.
His name was Ranther. He was once a trusted member of the Maghis council. But out of greed or fear—or maybe both—he turned against his people. He told the Bracadis everything. The tunnels, the hidden doors, and even the last secret route through a place called the Mehura Well.
When the royal family was finally captured, the king of Bracadis made a cruel decision.
"Behead every last one of them," he ordered. "Let the name Maghis fade into dust."
And it nearly did.
The people who remained were forced under the rule of the new king of Aberdon. He was cruel and impatient. When the remaining Maghis resisted his rule, he wiped them out too. It became known as the final purge.
Z-12's eyes scanned the words carefully.
"The final purge erased every known drop of Maghis blood. None survived."
He stopped. Something didn't sit right.
At the very bottom of the page, written in faint letters, barely readable, he found a small note.
"Three escaped. An old woman and two young girls."
Z-12's breath caught in his throat.
The old woman was named Maria. She was the mother of the Maghis King. The girls? His daughters—twin sisters and the rightful heirs to the throne. During the chaos and bloodshed, Maria had done the unthinkable.
She escaped with them.
And she had done it through the one place everyone had overlooked—the Mehura Well.
The Mehura Well was not overgrown or hidden behind thorns as many believed. It stood silently at the edge of the town, outside the city gates. People didn't go near it—not because of how it looked, but because of the rumors.
They believed the well was cursed. That snakes and wild beasts lived around it. That strange sounds came from its depths. Most people wanted nothing to do with it. Some were even scared to speak its name.
But the truth was far more important.
The well had been a royal escape tunnel. A secret known only to the king and his most trusted people. No one else even knew it led somewhere. No one imagined that inside that old stone well was a hidden passage—one that stretched far beneath the earth.
Maria had used it.
She had placed her granddaughters inside a basket tied to a lever, lowered them down, and then climbed in after them. From there, they escaped through the underground tunnel.
That tunnel led to a secret place.
The Cave of Storms.
Z-12 blinked slowly.
That name again.
The Cave of Storms… the same cave where Tony, Gabby, Skyler, and Elsie had taken refuge. A place they had stumbled into, thinking it was just a shelter. But it wasn't.
It was once a royal sanctuary.
Long ago, during times of war, the kings of the Maghis didn't stay in palaces. They hid in the Cave of Storms. It was more than just a cave—it was a fortress. Built for the king, his noble advisors, loyal generals, commanders, and top officials. Only the most trusted men were allowed inside.
And it wasn't just a rough hideout either. The interior had been carefully crafted. Beautiful carvings decorated the walls. Stones from deep mines sparkled in the corners. The cave had rooms divided into sections—places for sleeping, planning, storing, and even silent prayer.
It was a secret palace beneath the ground.
Outside the cave, in the forest plains, their troops had set up camps. Tents lined the edges of the trees, and fires kept them warm through the nights. They guarded the cave, unaware of the full history hidden behind its entrance.
Now Gabby was there with Tony, Elsie and Skyler .
She had returned—unknowingly—to the home of her ancestors.
Z-12 turned the page again.
There was one more note.
"Every royal of Maghis carried a mark. It was hidden under the shoulder blade. Not a tattoo, not a scar. A symbol. Burned carefully into the skin to serve as a sign of their bloodline. A way to identify them if they were ever lost."
Z-12 sat up straighter.
That symbol.
When Gabby was captured and brought to the cells, it was the strange mark on her upper shoulder back that gave her away. The king had noticed it during the moment she tried to attack him. It was through that mark they were able to identify and capture her. Now, Z-12 remembered everything clearly.
It could be the sign.
The final proof.
Gabby wasn't just a bearer of the sword.
She was the last living blood of Maghis.
And the world had no idea.