After returning home, Al headed to his room and sat at his computer. He began exploring the mountains in California and made his way up to Washington, and within moments, he recognized one familiar peak—Mt. Rainier.
The mountain before him looked exactly like the one depicted in his mind. He received the map from a metal emblem the Immortal Godfrey had given him.
However, there was a stark difference—the map showed a route to the mountain's base. There seemed to be a town nestled within it.
None of these details were visible in the computer image. Only in his mind's eye could he see the small town. It dawned on him that this must be the place referred to as the 15th Blood Ring in the recording he had heard.
In the following days, he fell into a new boxing routine that he had recently developed. Al was 5'11" and weighed 180 lbs. his complexion had become olive-tanned from spending ample time under the sun.
His father, John Adamos, hailed from Greek descent, while his mother was of latin descent. Unfortunately, her parents had passed away when Al was very young.
He had grown out his hair, which extended halfway to his eyebrows. Previously, the stark contrast between his fair skin and black hair had been striking, but now it softened his darkened features.
Despite the passage of time, his struggle with sleep persisted. As the days went by, his mother was rarely at home. Whenever she was present, she made repeated attempts to persuade Al to accompany her and his grandparents (John's parents) to church—a place where they spent the majority of her time.
They held church services almost daily.
Al was starting to realize something was not quite right with his mother.
When his dad, John, was home, he constantly argued with Al's grandparents over the phone about how much time and money they and Linda had been spending on their church.
Donations to religious services had escalated since the vanishings, making millionaires out of holy men.
An organization created by the world's governments, known as the “Committee for the Departed,” had announced a shocking discovery. Suicides were at an all-time low since the vanishings began. They also found a correlation between devout religious followers and a huge drop in vanishings.
These facts fed the flame of religious fanaticism. The drop became attributed to the power of their god, gods, or lifestyle. This was enough to send the entire world over the edge.
It had started as fear, which slowly evolved into appreciation and, finally, reverence. Like Al’s mom, Linda, most people believed they were alive because their beliefs protected them.
To the masses, those masters of religious doctrine became their messiahs and prophets, growing in followers daily.
By now, the world had lost 1 billion people, and the impacts of such sudden losses were massive. Many of the vanished were political leaders, causing instability in the world's governing bodies.
The prophets and messiahs slowly acted for their group's special interest or, worse, their own. They used the monetary resources and the influence they had acquired to install their figureheads into positions of political power.
Slowly, belief systems started to have a voice and say in all politics.
These massive changes created a response in the form of a political movement that refused to regress humanity's scientific progress or even halt it.
This group did not cling to hope-based beliefs like the rest of the world. Most were atheists and non-believers, scientists and artists, and many were wealthy. They called themselves the “Living Party”; their platform promised to bring rational thought back into politics with a scientific, logical, and objective viewpoint.
The drifts within those two months were so drastic that Al constantly contemplated what might happen. “Godfrey had mentioned the disappearance, but he sounded as if even he didn't know what was happening,” he thought.
“If 1 billion people had been transformed like Mark, then people would be talking about it by now. And if anyone did see something like that, they would probably be regarded as insane, just like how Dad acted.” Thinking about it felt like trying to solve a puzzle while missing half the pieces.
The more he forced himself to think, the more he realized he was at a total loss of what might really be happening.
Another week passed. Godfrey never gave him a specific time to show up. However, Al sensed that he would have to make a decision soon.
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He had pushed down his anger and ignored it, completely immersing himself in his daily training. This created a laser-like focus for him. In the end, he decided to go to the 15th Blood Ring.
Preparing to go, he began incorporating heat and cold training and meditation into his routine.
Amidst his intense training, Al hadn't even noticed that his mom and dad were no longer speaking to each other as they used to. They avoided arguments,
Al never refused his dad's company, but John could see through his son's forced smiles and laughter. Eventually, their time together was filled with silence, resembling that of two strangers.
Another week passed. It had now been close to 3 months since Mark died. Technically, Al had already graduated.
Although the nightmares persisted, he had grown somewhat accustomed to them.
Over the week, two cousins of his dad had vanished or fallen victim to 'The Departing'. This was the first time someone in his family had actually vanished. Al began to feel a dread enveloping him. He had to mend things with his dad.
They had only talked about his uncle for less than an hour. John's work pushed everyone to the limit to accommodate the influx of clients.
However, he managed to secure a half-day off on Thursday, and he and Al eagerly anticipated this time together.
Al had just finished his workout and was in the kitchen preparing the only dish he knew how to make—an omelet. The doorbell rang, causing Al to swiftly leap over the living room sofa and open the door.
His mother was supposed to arrive a bit later since she had volunteered to distribute tickets for an event organized by her church. When he opened the door, the last person he expected was to see his mom, but his mom stood before him, tears streaming down her face.
Linda struggled to speak, stuttering, "A...ah... Al... it's John..."
Al embraced his mom tightly. "It's alright, Mom. It's going to be alright. You don't have to say it," he reassured her, his expression surprisingly calm.
She continued sobbing, finding solace in his shoulder. Al guided her into the house and helped her settle on the sofa.
After caring for his mom, Al went upstairs to his room and entered the bathroom. He leaned over the sink, rocking back and forth. As he looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror, he shattered it with his bare fist.
Staring at his trembling, bloody hand, he began weeping.
Gradually regaining his composure, he tended his wounds and wrapped up his hand. Despite the mess and pain, a sense of numbness had settled within him. Afterward, he descended the stairs to check on his mom.
There she was, softly crying on the sofa. Al approached her slowly and sat down beside her. "I was with his parents when they called me," she said, attempting to keep her composure.
"I know, you don't have to say it. Mom, really, you don't have to say it." Al gently reassured her.
Linda glanced at his wrapped hand, but a gripping pain stopped her from saying anything. She slowly and quietly made her way to her room.
Al suppressed any emotions that surfaced, channeling them toward Mark's memory. At that moment, he had decided: "I need to keep my mother safe."
Suddenly, the fire alarm went off, jolting him out of his thoughts. "Damn, my eggs!" Al hurriedly rushed to finish cooking.
He briefly forgot about the numbness, but soon, a dull grayness enveloped his world again. "I already know where the 15th Blood Ring is located. I need a cover story to prevent me from bringing more anguish to my mother. All I need is a month, maybe two," Al plotted.
He began eating, contemplating his plan. Eventually, an idea surfaced in his mind—he recalled his mom's church took trips to Jerusalem, where they strengthened their faith for about a month.
The next few days were difficult for Al, his mom, and the world as a whole. He carefully made arrangements for his plan: leaving his car with a friend to retrieve later and embarking on a journey to the 15th Blood Ring at Mnt. Rainier. It would take him approximately 12 hours to drive there.
A week passed, during which his mother hardly left her room. Meanwhile, Al remained busy making preparations. He contacted the church to inquire about the supposed pilgrimages to the holy land.
The trip would cost him around $8,000, a significant portion of his savings from summers spent assisting his dad. Though he could afford it, it would leave him nearly broke. The pilgrimage would cost around $5,000, but he also wanted to hire someone to maintain appearances with his mom through pre-written letters.
He was willing to pay them $2,000, half of which he would give upfront and the other half later. He felt confident in his plan. All he needed to do now was somehow convince his grief-stricken mother to allow her only child to be away for almost three months.
On a Thursday evening, Al was cooking dinner for his mother to take to her room when the weight of his guilt began to settle in. After assuring her he would never leave, he fabricated a story about wanting to get more involved with the church.
"I'm not lying. This isn't lying; I'm just protecting her from the truth. She would never be able to accept it. That's it!" he assured himself.
Al headed up to his mom's room with a forced smile, a dinner plate, and her favorite dessert in hand. Moments later, he emerged feeling even guiltier.
Her face lit up with pure joy when she heard about Al wanting to get closer to the faith. She tried joining him, but he refused, claiming that it was a divine solitary calling.
It was the first time he had seen her smile since his dad had disappeared. The price of that smile weighed heavily on his heart. Nevertheless, once he decided, he had to see it through.
Five days later, he hugged his mother goodbye, leaving her in the care of his grandparents, who refused to discuss the vanishing of his dad.
Waiting at the bus stop, along with 60 other people who had also paid for the pilgrimage, Al quietly pondered, "I wonder if anyone my age even goes on such trips?"