“Insanity?” Marie echoed.

           “Correct, young lady,” said the old man. “After the First Extermination, the Cardinal Champions discovered that they would fall into bouts of violence and irrational words every so often. The cause behind that remains an enigma until this very day, but it probably had something to do with the great war.”

           He gestured at the helmet. “This was created to rein their rampages. When worn, the user would fall into a deep sleep, lasting around four hours. This was one of their prototypes — as the Cardinal Champions grew older, their insanity spells would increase in duration.”

           “That wasn’t recorded in history, was it?” Aziz asked. “I don’t recall reading that in the books.”

           “Not in most books, yes,” said the old man. “A great deal of the archives was held by the Holy Temple back then. I am unsure what happened to them when the North destroyed the Central Circle, but I believe that the Mortal Light Dynasty is now in possession of a great many truths.”

           “And secrets,” Marie added on, a smile on her face.

           “Sometimes, they mean the same thing.” Bokensha mirrored her smile. “But you’ve actually touched upon the next and last part of this museum — Champion Solaris’ passing.”

           “He…died, then.” Aziz tapped his foot, somewhat unable to believe the old man. “Did the Cardinal Champions become the familiar spirits of the Human God?”

           Marie shook her head. “I doubt it. The Human God has his agents all around Orb, but no one has spotted the Cardinal Champions.”

           Bokensha nodded. “Correct. A rough estimate on our part says that the Cardinal Champions were almost two hundred years old when they passed away. Their lifespan was one third of the average Paragon’s, but their death cannot be said to be of natural causes.”

           “What happened?” Aziz asked.

           “They lived up to their names and titles to the very end,” said the old man. “As the Cardinal Champions continued to age, their bouts of insanity continued to grow longer and longer. And given that they were the strongest beings in this world, every instance of their madness could be devastating to their surroundings.”

           “Eventually, the Suppressor” — he indicated the helmet — “and their later versions dropped in effectiveness. In the end, the Cardinal Champions decided to leave civilisation altogether. They would build multiple legacy sites all over the world, and then commit suicide in one of them.”

           “They…killed themselves?” Marie’s fingers trembled slightly as she looked at the helmet. “That is in no way a fitting end for the saviours of the world. Didn’t anyone try to help them?”

           “They tried,” the curator said kindly. “But the ailment that had affected the four Cardinal Champions proved to be too much. After a particularly devastating fit of insanity, the four Champions eventually decided to leave. In whatever waking hours that still belonged to them, they prepared for their own death, writing thoughts and leaving behind footsteps on Orb.”

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           “Writing thoughts?” Aziz asked. “Do you have some of their records?”

           “We do,” Bokensha answered. “And given recent events — the fall of the Holy Temple and the emergence of another great god — we found it fit to showcase a new exhibit. One of the many diaries that Champion Solaris left behind. Come, follow me.”

           He beckoned them to follow, and soon, Aziz found himself in a drab room. It lacked the decorations and the trappings of the previous rooms, but after a while, he noticed that the doors were sealed shut behind them. The air was still, and the room was only faintly illuminated by a gentle light.

           “It’s very fragile, so we have to take precautions when inspecting it,” said the old man. “We’ve already transcribed the words onto more lasting materials, but to prove that we didn’t change any word, visitors are allowed to compare the original to the copy.”

           “We’ll just see the copy,” said Marie. “Museums are the places least likely to lie, after all.”

           “That’s not a good attitude to take, but I suppose having lesser work to do is good for this old set of bones,” said the old man, indicating a set of books at the side. “These are the copies we made, and for the less…academically inclined, we have picked out a few extracts that we think are most important.”

           “We’ll look at the extracts first,” said Aziz. “Can we buy a copy from you? Marie’s going to spend hours here otherwise.”

           “Naturally,” Bokensha replied. “Part of our clientele are academics and history buffs, so we prepared copies for them to bring home.”

           “Thank you, mister,” said Marie.

           “Just make your way to the counter,” said the old curator. “Your…friend here seems more interested in the extracts, so I’ll be staying here to explain.”

           Marie nodded, and left the room. After the door closed once more, Bokensha clapped his hands, and the four walls lit up with words. “Go ahead. I’ll be here to answer any queries you might have.”

           Aziz walked to the exhibit labelled number one, and began reading. His eyes whizzed through the passage, which was talking about his family and the three children he had. It was evident that the Champion loved them dearly, but his condition had deterred him from staying too close to them. Most of the time, he watched from afar, in case his madness flared up while they were in his vicinity. One close shave was enough for him, but as expected, Solaris did not elaborate on that particular incident.

           The next one was him snickering at the legacies he laid down. The Champion was poking fun at the tombs back on Earth, where he derided them as ‘descendent-killers’, only to wonder if he should do the same after all. Aziz didn’t know what to think about it, but the Champions, as expected, thought on a different plane of existence compared to the commoners.

           “This is…”

           Aziz narrowed his eyes as he looked at the third extract. “Bokensha, this…”

           “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” said the old man. “We had been staring at this extract for around twelve years, right after we unearthed it. It was definitely significant, but we only knew what it meant recently.”

           “The Chanter of Innocents, Weiwu.” Aziz rubbed his nose. “Still, to think that Solaris, in his twilight years, came in contact with this…god.”

           “A great god too, by the Champion’s estimate.” Bokensha touched the wall slowly. “At least we have a rough idea of what he looked like — an old man with a beard.”

           “I’m not looking down on Solaris or anything, but any old man can fit that bill easily,” Aziz replied. “So…who is this Chanter of Innocents?”

           “Who knows. But there’s something from him in the fourth extract,” said the curator.

           “The fourth extract?”

           “Yes,” Bokensha replied. “It’s…a prophecy of sorts.”