Forty minutes.

A sandglass of herself that Seren never turned in her life. If she didn’t trade with the Chamber of Letter-Writer.

They promised her a human life. To fulfill her wish in exchange for an abnormality’s power.

But they can’t make the waterfall go up. Now she is fed up with it , boredom , loneliness and the guilt that stabs deep into her heart.

So she steps onto the road of “personal wishes.”

…

“Where did the fourth come from?”

“The comms is S’o’F only isn’t it?”

School of Faust only? Suiming thought to himself. The voices echos in his head for a

Out of nowhere , a shard of memory stings Suiming. Like a surgery knife that cuts his flesh open up. It isn’t supposed to be warm or nostalgic. But it lights up Suiming’s heart , making that cold wind of smoke less freezing.

That memory of…the one who lockpicked the truth. How he watched the stars turn and…memories of him.

“...the…First Mephisto.”

“That legend again? How old are you?”

“But…that eye…the Mephisto can’t be wrong about it. ”

“...Just shut up , there are ears behind the walls. Don’t say a single word about the ops.”

Like a judge smashing the gavel , without even a buzz, the comms silences. Suiming’s feet stomps on the roof of the train as he balances himself and almost slips off for a time or two. Seren’s voice repeats again and again in Suiming’s head. Softly tapping on his eardrums as the late September wind howls.

The wind can’t cover up her voice.

The soft , feathery voice of Seren slowly tells Suiming where to move next. As they are both getting closer to that three , Seren even started to sing a lullaby. An unnamed , old lullaby.

Suiming lets her voice echo in his mind , not listening to it at all. He can smell that scent like a hound looking for its prey.

Suiming crouches down , holding the sack of silver between his armpits. The wind makes his eyes close. Smoke coloring his vision , turning the noon into night. His hand is holding the edge that made him almost slip down. As he was finding a place to hold , the silent comms said:

“Operation failed. Prepare for protocol 137.”

A tingle of memory scratches Suiming , he has a bad feeling , but can’t tell why.

The glass shatters as the last syllable drops , as if it is the music Suiming is dancing to.

He could smell the wet air outside , hear the engine's loud cry as the heartbeat of himself.

The mechanical heart of the metal snake pounds.

“There are doors.” Seren says as she opens the door between coaches. The wind blows something away alongside the sun-blocking curtain on the windows.

The coach is empty with nothing but the three scholars. But a glow shines in the dust midair. The comms in Suiming’s head blasted , as if red smokes were coming out of his head. The words and cursing of the scholars bangs on the inside of Suiming’s skull , like a hammer hitting from inside.

The nose-stinging smoke and the foul smell of them mixes in Suiming’s nose , making him want to peek his head out of the window and vomit everything he ate or not in the past three days on the Rein river.

Their hood gets blown over by the pouring storm-like wind of a high speed train. The keyhole iris of Suiming hooks on them as they shake to stay in calm. Their iris shrunk to a dot.

“Seren , am I that scary?” Suiming asks in his head.

“Not compared to someone about to collapse at any moment.” Seren answers with some giggles in and between the words.

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The wind’s blowing becomes bigger and bigger , like a snowball rolling downhill. It started as howling , then a flute solo that hit its climax.

Suddenly , in the scream-like howl of the wind , a color that can’t be named shined. It distorts its own light into a wave that can be called a great wave. In a time of blink , Suiming solidifies the planks of the great boat that is made of stars.

That color worm crawls through the light wave of its own reflection , ascending into something beyond waves or particles. Screaming the lament of no one.

Lamenting with the sound of nothing yet everything.

With a sound of vacuum , Suiming can’t tell why , but he is sure that he has heard that sound before. The sound of something greater and larger than the sun dying , intertwining and merging into a cosmic beast that no one can escape , not even light.

As Suiming opens his eyes from the brightness , he is standing in another coach with Seren.

This coach is filled with passengers in shock , screaming , running to the further coaches of the train as the parts behind screeches on the rail. He noticed a woman and a man exiting the coach slower than anyone else.

The two Faustes are gone , leaving only one standing in the torn-apart coat , his hood blown off by the wind with his messy brown-ish hair dancing to the tune of wind. Suiming can tell that he is the one who mentioned the first Mephisto in the comms. Not by any carved proof , but just his pure guess.

Suiming frowns , his heart beats faster than before. Protocol 137…he has heard of it before.

The protocol of…cleaning. The protocol that was used in the great hunt of cultists after that war between Euth-Letland and Siyue. Even the School of Faust was greatly damaged after it. Countless institutions of theirs was burnt to crisp.

The protocol wasn’t like this…at least not so efficient.

“...It is an honor to meet the First Mephisto himself.” the one who didn’t collapse says. Suiming could smell that foulness of the ineffable around him. He tries to find anything that could tell about Faust's purpose , but there is nothing. No badge , no decoration or emblem on his clothes. Like he just bought new clothes from a shop.

“You and your god-damn titles can jump off a cliff. I’ll make sure to find the best cliff for you.” Suiming says , hiding anger under the facade of calmness that he tried to mimic from Nameless.

“Seren,” Suiming says in his head “this guy must stay alive.”

She didn’t respond with mind connection , instead Seren slightly nods her head as she puts her hand on one of the blades.

“You don’t know how the School of Faust looked high on you.” the Faust answers.

“Back in the days we would even cut a limb off just to talk to You once.”

“I don’t remember any of this.” Suiming says.

“Of course you don’t…you’ve enlightened so many…at least one of them will envy you? At least one or two would backstab you , don’t you think so?” he says as he slightly tilts his head like a shepherd dog , Suiming almost vomited in his mind.

“Yeah , you , School of Faust , you lot of cultists in another skin would. You would even burn a damn city off just to get stared at by them. Not just one or two backstabbed , the entire darned school of thoughts backstabbed humanity.” Suiming answers as he looks for anything that might kill that scholar.

“...says an abnormality , no mean offense , sir.” the Faust says.

“I saw humanity more than the rituals you’ve done , research your own papers , do I really have to babysit the entire s’o’f?”

“So…what brings you to Tomkiel…Mister Sharded-Light?”

“Noone has annoyed me this much in centuries…I want to ask the same question, student.” Suiming says , hand letting the sack open slightly.

“Do you like sage flowers?” the scholar asks.

“Also known as Salvia , I’m afraid that’s all I can say…oh , the protocol 137,1 is starting.”

“It’s a pleasure…meeting you , sir.”

Suiming reaches his hand to him , the silver under his skin is ready to sprout. But it’s too late.

The Faust’s body wraps towards its abdomen. The same light shines the same silver before. Eye blinding as a thousand broken sun’s blood that comes from their black wound. Fast yet organized pulsating like a metronome. That has its tempo setted beyond the speed a human can play. Then silver-dark-ish limbs stretch out of it and as it is moving towards the coach further , Seren activates her realm-arts.

So the heart of the city pounds.

Realm-arts: Heartbeat of Finale.

Seren knows what she is doing , she knows the consequences of it…the side effects. Even if she is an abnormality , she still can’t ignore the great side effects of it. She could feel her future being poured with molten lead that solidified within a time of blink. Like the writer of her fate giggles and pulls a prank on her that she knows she can’t avoid. Her heart feels nothing but acceptance , not even the urge of making it enjoyable for herself.

And so the world escapes from the inescapable.

The heartbeat of reality reverses , blood of aether refluxes towards the unexisting center of everything , like a hole that sucks everything in.

The Faust’s body reverses its action like a reversed movie.

“Will you pull the lever? Sharded-Light.” the Faust says with no emotion.

“Last question , sir , would you divert the trolley , killing off one person to save the other five?”

Suiming’s eyes open wide , without a single word , he runs towards the head of the train.