Startled out of his wits and almost dropping the book, Leonardo spun into cover like a rabbit. It was only when he heard a soft cough that he found courage to face the voice.
There, a man in his seventies stood solemnly with his hands behind his back. For a moment, Leonardo took him to be an embodiment of chaos.
He donned an odd attire, seemingly a typical monk’s robe in one instant, and a black suit in the next. His visage cycled from young to old as well, expressing various stages of his life akin to a broken record. True to his image, his voice also alternated in pitch, sometimes speaking with the youthfulness of a child, at other times with the gloom of an aged man.
It was a rather eerie display, leaving Leonardo unsure and unsettled.
““Who are you?”” — they both asked in unison. One voice inquisitive, the other derisive.
“I am your past and also your future, and you are—”
The man paused for a moment, as if doubting his own introduction. His figure fluctuated a few times, and it was clear from his expression that something had gone awry.
“Never mind,” the man sighed in deep resignation, “You may call me Muchen Feng.”
Being so close to the old man, Leonardo keenly felt the shift in emotions. Muchen’s voice became somber and quiet, his gaze lost in the distance even as it seemed as though he was staring straight at his soul.
Unsettled though he was, Leonardo didn’t dare interrupt. Eventually, Muchen recovered. He continued, but now spoke with the voice of a forbearing man who had just been freed from his burden.
“You are Leonardo, and you inherited my dream and my memories.”
“This is our dream domain, our demesne — a shelter in the dreaming.”
“I have been calling out to you for 7 years to reunite, and you are finally here. We are complete.”
Gawking at the man and barely making sense of what he was saying, Leonardo set his gaze on the book in his hand and finally opened it. As he peeked at the content, he found it very familiar. It was one of the numerous puzzle pieces he’d absorbed through his migraines.
“These are our memories. Though most are broken or missing,” Muchen gestured to the dark clouds in the library, each clutter representing an erased portion of their past self.
“I had to discard some to rid myself of the curse, leaving only essentials. Some were damaged as my soul was injured, but may be retrieved as we recover.”
“The reason you were weakened as a child is because I used your psyche to rebuild these memories and complete the demesne.”
“Everything you and I know will hence be recorded in this library.”
“As you traverse The Path, and your soul and psyche strengthens, you will gradually gain complete control over this space.”
“For now, you will only occasionally be able to enter, so make use of each opportunity.”
“Now, I assume you have other questions?”
Staring at the man that kept changing forms, he couldn’t help but think that he had too many questions, yet didn’t know which one to ask first.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Old man… you said that—” just as he finally posed his first question, the expression on Muchen shifted, and the library trembled.
“There’s no more time. What has been split must come together. Your seeking is near and cannot be postponed.”
Muchen’s body seemed to float irresistibly towards Leonardo as if drawn by a magnet. Just as they were about to clash, the old man shouted with insistence.
“Do not forget our nightmare! Complete the library, and make the sacrifice worth it!”
An unexplainable dizziness assailed him as they made contact, breaking whatever train of thought Muchen started. After a blinding flash of light, he outright lost consciousness. Various memories flooded his mind, but he seemed to forget most of them instantly.
- — ☯ — -
Leonardo woke up on his bed after several hours. His head was bursting at the seams in pain, and it seemed that only by pressing it together with his arms could he keep it from splitting.
After a dozen minutes of agony, the pain subsided and he breathed freely. His back was covered in sweat, and he quickly assessed his body with spells. He found nothing, the cause of the migraine eluding his senses entirely.
Yet, as he the pain abated and he sat up, he found himself strangely complete, as if a piece of himself was finally made whole — one he didn’t even know he was missing.
The sudden euphoria didn’t dissuade him from seeking an answer, but he found none. Ultimately, he resigned himself to not knowing and left.
Walking out of the room, he found himself in dormitory hallway, yet it was strangely desolate. He didn’t hear the boisterous children nor the shouts of the dictatorial nun. Only silence, eerie and empty.
Making his way to the courtyard, he found it just as bare. It was only when he made it closer to the chapel that he heard some whimpers.
Drawing closer, he found the door cracked open and walked through it. There was a crowd barring his path to the noise, and he squeezed his way through the children, coming up to the fore to see what drew them.
The children were silent and merely watched the altar from a distance, prompting him to look over curiously as well. In that instant, his face stiffened in horror… and rage.
Luca stood there just as he did yesterday, except it wasn’t Anabelle on the altar.
It was Yuki.
The sight of his beloved sister in that state appalled and angered him beyond words. His eyes turned red and he rushed Luca, except this time it wasn’t an ambush. He lost his reason entirely and charged like a bull, only snapping out of his daze when Luca’s fist pummeled his face and sent him flying back into the crowd.
Feeling his lip split and blood gushing out, he finally regained some semblance of order. Despite the burning urgency, he forced himself into a proper fighting stance whilst quietly chanting.
He’d beaten the boy once, and had no lack of courage. The only impediment to victory was his own wrath, one he didn’t know how to channel.
As Luca drew near with another attack, he slipped past his arm and struck his solar plexus with an enhanced fist. The boy collapsed like a shrimp, yet this time Leo didn’t show mercy and climbed atop him.
Unlike Anabella’s, the vile scene now caused his boiling blood to rush to his head, and he could no longer remain an aloof spectator. Now, it was personal and he would ensure his burning vengeance would be sated.
Were it someone else, he’d be just like the crowd by the altar — watching in silence as someone else suffered. As long as it happened to another, none would care, just as he never cared.
The cruel reminder startled him deeply, and stirred in him primal emotions he didn’t even know he was capable of.
“Rargh!”
No different from an incoherent beast, he unleashed his fury with a crazed roar. His knee sunk into Luca’s groin and turned everything to bloody paste. He followed by grabbing a hold of a candle stick and ramming the base of it into his skull. Repeatedly.
Time lost meaning and only when his arm was exhausted did he drop the impromptu weapon. Luca’s head had burst open by now, deformed in a gruesome exhibit of brutality. It revealed a horrid painting of gray chunks splattered across a crimson background. Silent and still.
Leo sat in a daze as he watched the display in shock. It took some time to acknowledge what he did, yet he held no immediate regret. Knowing that his ‘mercy’ could result in someone else being next, he would surely engrave this karmic lesson in his heart.
Whilst glancing at the muted crowd, he knew it was time to change things. Anabella was just a slightly older girl. He mistakenly let her take charge because she was born earlier, yet this inaction has resulted in what could have been an irredeemable oversight.
Yukiko was just a small part of the orphanage ecosystem, and he mistakenly thought he was only responsible for her. Now, he knew better.
As he mulled over those thoughts, Leonardo’s vision grew dizzy and his consciousness lapsed.
( Crack! )
The sky splintered into fragments and the monastery around him crumbled like broken glass. Beneath the illusion, reality surfaced — exposing a glimpse of the pearly void just before everything stilled.