The wind rustled in the drafts of the split walls, carrying with it the smell of dampness and ... something else, something elusively ancient. That day, while helping to clear the rubble, you came across it – a black feather. Not just a bird, but something... different. Its smooth, polished surface did not reflect reflected light, but rather radiated it from within. Soft to the touch, it had a strange heaviness, as if it contained the whole universe. My instinct told me it wasn't an ordinary object. It's an artifact related to something.… immortal.

Your path lay to the immortals, Cain, Anchaea and Pileon. They are members of your squad and could possibly help with the pen. You showed the pen one by one, encountering various reactions: from an indifferent shrug to a mysterious smile. However, you only saw the real shock at Pileon.

Pileon, seeing the feather, instantly changed his face. The calmness vanished like smoke, replaced by rage. His eyes lit up with a fierce fire. His fists clenched, his fingers white with tension.

— «It's Ada's feather!» — he barked, his voice, usually low and melodious, cutting through the silence like a red — hot blade. — «She... was here recently!»