Sitting in a large stylish armchair, facing shelves cluttered with books, Niian stared blankly into space. Somewhere in his mind, an alarm had just sounded. Already a hundred years. Time passed at such speed when it represented nothing! Death had the impression that the last centuries-old event was only yesterday, even if he couldn’t remember the name of the previous Praxis. And today, a new Corypheus inherited this unenviable role. Not just any, unfortunately: the only one for whom Niian had even the slightest esteem or even affection. Darya Kolevski. The old man sighed. As if the girl didn’t have enough problems! He got up, cursed, dragged his feet to a shelf, and fondled the back of the leather-bound books with a distracted look. He had to come up with an idea, a way to help his Coryphe
