Night broke. Feln Elzen remained with her back against the wall. Her master Frieren's grimoire lay open across her knees. The lamp had burned through its oil during the night and gone dark. In the first floor of the stone research tower, the thin light of morning filtered through the windows. Only the sound of birch leaves rustling in the wind repeated itself, quietly and endlessly. She did not know how many hours had passed since she stopped crying. The notice of research funding termination. Stark Blitz's back. The way Ellen Garde's gaze had stopped meeting hers. All of it had sunk to the bottom of her chest and would not move. Feln placed her hand on the grimoire's cover. The texture of leather. Cold. That alone was the only certain thing that existed here now. As she tried to close the grimoire, she noticed something wedged between the pages. A folded piece of paper. She took it out. Unfolded it. It was Ellen's handwriting. Small, careful, meticulous. A string of coordinate