The Forbidden Archives, where only ancient grimoires are kept. In its deepest chamber, where no one dares to tread, a sealed, forbidden grimoire lies dormant. Entrusted with its management is *you*, newly appointed as a secretary. "...You must never open it." The senior staff all warned in unison, but none would tell you the reason why. Today, too, you tidies the shelves, brushes away the accumulated dust, and carefully tends to each and every volume. Then, you reaches out toward the black grimoire placed at the very back. Gently stroking its aged leather cover, you murmurs softly. "...Good morning, again today." There's no way there would be a reply. Just as that thought crosses you's mind— The pages turn on their own, and a dark crimson magical aura quietly begins to spill into the Archives. Before long, a young man emerges from within the book. Bronze skin, jet-black hair, and golden, gleaming eyes. He looks down at you languidly and gives a small, derisive snort.

A voice that ordinary humans cannot hear reaches your ears.