The air hung thick with the scent of burnt coffee and stale regret in Ethan's apartment. He stared at the shattered remains of his kitchen, a testament to his disastrous attempts at controlling the Aethelred Strain. A shattered fridge lay on its side, leaking what was left of its contents into a puddle of broken tile.

"Right then," Corvus croaked, perched on the relatively unscathed kitchen table. "Less smashing, more researching. We need to find out what the hell this 'Ascendant' business is all about."

Ethan sighed, running a hand through his perpetually disheveled hair. “Easier said than done, Corvus. We’ve been scouring the internet for days. All we’ve found are conspiracy theories and poorly written fan fiction.”

"The internet is for fools and cats playing pianos," Corvus retorted, preening his feathers. "We need something…older. Something hidden. A place where secrets slumber." He paused, cocking his head. "I know of a place."

Ethan raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Oh? And where might that be, exactly? Some back alley bookshop run by a wizard in disguise?"

"Close," Corvus said with a glint in his obsidian eyes. "Beneath. Beneath the concrete and steel, where the city's secrets are buried deeper than any grave."

The raven then launched into a surprisingly detailed description of a hidden library located beneath New York City. It was supposedly an archive, a repository of lost knowledge compiled by a secret society centuries ago, predating even the Order of Gabriel. According to Corvus's cryptic clues – gathered, he claimed, from centuries of observing and eavesdropping – the library held texts forbidden to the outside world, including potentially vital information about the Aethelred Strain.

The entrance, he revealed, was hidden within an abandoned subway station, long since decommissioned and sealed off from the public. The journey there was fraught with paranoia. Ethan, acutely aware of the Order’s relentless pursuit, kept glancing over his shoulder, his senses heightened by the Strain. Every shadow seemed to lengthen, every whisper sounded like an approaching threat.

They reached the abandoned station late that night. The air hung heavy with the smell of mildew and decay. Peeling paint clung to the walls like dying skin, and the tracks were rusted and choked with debris. The silence was deafening, broken only by the drip, drip, drip of water echoing through the cavernous space.

Corvus led Ethan down the tracks, his small claws clicking against the metal. He stopped before a section of wall that seemed identical to the rest. “Here,” he rasped. “Feel around.”

Ethan hesitated, then ran his prosthetic hand along the cold, damp brick. He felt nothing. “There’s nothing here, Corvus.”

“Patience, brute. It’s…a matter of intent.” Corvus hopped onto Ethan’s shoulder. “Focus. Think about knowledge. Think about secrets…and push.”

Ethan closed his eyes, concentrating on the idea of hidden knowledge, of the secrets surrounding the Aethelred Strain. He imagined the weight of centuries of forgotten lore pressing against the wall. He pushed.

With a low groan that echoed through the station, a section of the brick wall slid inward, revealing a narrow, dimly lit passage. Dust billowed out, thick with the scent of ancient paper and forgotten things.

“Impressive,” Corvus said, hopping off Ethan’s shoulder. “Even for you.”

Ethan cautiously stepped through the opening, his senses on high alert. The passage led to a spiral staircase that descended into darkness. The air grew colder, and the scent of dust intensified. After what felt like an eternity, the staircase opened into a vast, cavernous chamber.

The Archives of Antiquity.

Towering shelves lined the walls, stretching into the shadows, laden with books, scrolls, and strange artifacts. The air was thick with the smell of aged paper, leather, and something else…something indescribably ancient. Faint light emanated from glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling, casting an ethereal glow over the scene.

Ethan was awestruck. He had expected a hidden library, yes, but nothing on this scale. It was a testament to the enduring power of knowledge, a sanctuary for forgotten wisdom.

“Well, don’t just stand there gaping,” Corvus snapped. “We haven’t got all night. We need to find anything pertaining to the Aethelred Strain.”

They began to search, systematically scouring the shelves. Ethan, using his enhanced strength, moved stacks of books with ease, while Corvus, with his keen eyesight, scanned the spines for relevant titles.

Hours passed. They found tomes on alchemy, astrology, and forgotten religions. They found maps of lost continents and accounts of mythical creatures. But nothing about the Aethelred Strain. Ethan’s frustration grew with each passing hour.

"Are you sure this is the right place, Corvus?" Ethan asked, his voice tight with exasperation. "We've been through half the library, and we've found nothing but esoteric gibberish."

Corvus remained perched on a high shelf, scanning a row of ancient scrolls. “Patience, Ethan. Knowledge rarely reveals itself to those who demand it. It whispers to those who listen.”

Suddenly, Corvus let out a sharp cry. “Here! This one!”

He swooped down, landing on Ethan’s arm, and gestured with his beak towards a scroll covered in faded symbols.

Ethan carefully unfurled the scroll. The vellum was brittle and cracked, and the ink was faded, but he could make out the text: a series of archaic symbols and diagrams that seemed to depict celestial beings and strange, geometric patterns.

"Can you read this?" Ethan asked.

Corvus ruffled his feathers. “Only fragments. The language is…archaic, even for me. But I recognize certain symbols… angelic script, corrupted by something…else.”

He pointed to a particular diagram, a circle intersected by several lines, with a stylized figure at the center. “This,” he said, his voice low, “This is Aethelred. Or rather, a representation of his…essence.”

As Ethan continued to examine the scroll, a chilling realization dawned on him. It wasn’t just a record of Aethelred’s existence. It was a prophecy. A prophecy that spoke of a time when Aethelred’s essence would coalesce within a single individual, giving rise to an ‘Aethelred Ascendant.’

The prophecy described the Ascendant as a being of immense power, capable of reshaping reality itself. A being destined to either usher in an age of enlightenment or plunge the world into chaos.

"An Ascendant," Ethan whispered, his voice trembling. "A being of unimaginable power..." He looked at his prosthetic limbs, the scars on his body, the monstrous strength surging through his veins. "Is that...is that what I'm becoming?"

Corvus nodded slowly. "The signs are…compelling. Your infection, your abilities… the Order’s desperation to eliminate you." He paused. "The prophecy also speaks of a catalyst. An event that will trigger the final stage of the ascension."

"A catalyst? What kind of event?"

Corvus’s gaze hardened. “It speaks of…a sacrifice. A loss that will shatter the Ascendant’s will and unlock their full potential.”

Ethan’s blood ran cold. Sacrifice. Loss. He thought of Clara, her unwavering kindness, her genuine concern for him. He thought of the Order's threat to her life. A terrible fear gripped him. Was she the catalyst? Was she destined to be the sacrifice that would transform him into something monstrous?

He gripped the scroll tightly in his hand, the ancient vellum crumpling under his grip. He had to find a way to stop it. He had to find a way to prevent himself from becoming the Aethelred Ascendant, even if it meant sacrificing everything he had gained. The fate of the world, it seemed, rested on his shoulders. And he had no idea what to do.

Suddenly, a piercing alarm shattered the silence. Red lights flashed, illuminating the archives in an ominous glow.

"They found us," Corvus shrieked, his wings beating frantically. "The Order! They know we're here!"

Ethan's heart hammered in his chest. The Order. They were closing in. He looked around the archives, the vast collection of knowledge, the weight of centuries of secrets pressing down on him. He had barely scratched the surface, and now, he had to run.

"Come on, Corvus!" Ethan yelled, his voice echoing through the chamber. "We need to get out of here!"

He grabbed the scroll, tucked it securely inside his jacket, and raced back towards the spiral staircase, his enhanced senses screaming warnings of the impending danger. The hunters were coming, and they were hungry. And this time, they were ready.