The Euth’s coast sea-wind is as heartless and sharp as the messenger’s blades. A blade and shield that has kept the world of madness away from Euth.

The sun is blasting its rays, but the wind makes it cold as if it's sunsetting dusk.

The air is dense , choking the mind of that young messenger.

The messenger touches his belt , assuring that the cold , safe-unlocked weapon is hanging on it. Not to unleash it , but to make his heart touch the ground.

Even if the entire squad is standing right behind him , he swallows , tries to open his sticked-to-mask lips and form some simple syllables:

“We’ve received reports of an abnormality located in that tower.” he says , finger pointing at the crooked , barely-holding-together tower.

“And the cognition infection has affected some locals.”

Nameless sorts her white hair that is hanging to her neck. Her hand combs through the hair.

“So? You can’t get it done?” she asks , looking at her falling hair strings. Ignoring the messenger infront of her. The messenger silences , if not because of his breath , Nameless would think that he’s gone.

“Let me talk to her.” says an old ,deep voice.

“You must be that Josh Suiming told me about.” she says , eyes moving to the damaged mask. The mask is repainted and taped over and over again. But the tapes and paints don't mask the scar of time.

“Is a honor to be remembered by the Priestess herself.”

“...Cut the chase.” Nameless says , with a different tone , as if she was singing in minors.

“We have sent more than one squad to neutralize the abnormality.” Josh says. As if he is writing a report to the Chamber of Letter-Writer.

“None of them are standing on their feet anymore.”

“...Where is the Letter-Writer? Isn’t he the Euth version of Barricades?” Nameless says.

Josh didn’t respond. Not his words are stuck , but he simply doesn't know what to answer. Not even thirty years of serving as a messenger can help. At this moment he felt like a helpless child. Trying to make things better , but don’t know how.

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“Looks like Suiming’s commentary on him is accurate.”

“I don’t know what teacher said about him , but sure that they are accurate.” Josh responds.

The clouds start to gather. Blocking the sun , leaving only the wind howl. The raindrops parachute with the wind. Creating an almost silent drum marching.The trails of water fall down the old messenger’s mask , leaving another fading scar on it.

Their sight is like a filter of something. Colors fade , leaving only gray and white gradients.

And by the silent rain drum , Suiming comes back. The smile of him still hangs on his face. He doesn't say a word , only finds a spot for him to see the improvised , unstaged and even true play between Nameless and messengers.

The rain is pouring down as if heaven had a water pipe leak.

The rain didn’t bring peace or freshness. Only painting the dense air even denser. Turning it into solid metal. Crushing down on everyone’s head like a gavel.

Then the rain-drops are falling faster and faster , wind howling through the roofs and open windows. Hitting the walls with its frame , shattering glasses. The masterless orchestra starts to create sounds that sound music alike, yet strange. As if all the instruments were made of human flesh.

At first it was sounds that scratched the surface of the eardrum. Sounds that are like cat-hissing , snake slithering and pages flipping.

Then one by one the noises start to differentiate from each other. Some higher , some lower.

“Tell me a story.” says an unnamed voice , blended into the rain.

“Tell me a story , the one who saw the last glow of Yel.”

“Tell me a story , the one who lockpicked the truth.”

“Tell me a story , the student of Letter-Writer and Sharded-Light.”

With every sentence spoken , one by one their face turns like the tides.

Especially Suiming , his eyebrows and eyelid are moving up and down , mouth open wide.Face color changes as if he was thrown into the deep ocean. It is the past that not even himself remembers. Even the horrifying year long sun covering days were forgotten by him.

“I can’t take this anymore!” the messenger says , pointing his gun at himself. Finger on the trigger.

Josh tried to stop his arm from moving towards the messenger’s forehead as he activated his realm-arts.

But engineering flies faster than realm-arts casting.

The bullet went through the light reflecting mask of him. Leaving a clean hole and black stain.

Blood fountains out , then washed away by the rain. Not leaving a trace.

Another messenger unsheathe their weapon , but was put to sleep by Josh’s realm-arts.

Josh and Suiming controlled some messengers. Even Nameless that was frowning since the whisper knocked out one.

“Nameless , can your mythical item transport multiple people at one?” Suiming asks.

“...It will leave trails , and if that thing in the tower notices…”

“I’ll go first , if that thing has something to do with…my past…then…”