Chapter 109 - Tenet
'Mirror Emporium.'
When Cedric followed him out, Vern pointed at the building and asked with a whisper, "Do you think their source is in there somewhere?"
It was how it typically went, right? It only made sense for mirror spirits to originate from a mirror emporium.
Cedric shook his head, "That's not how it works, kid. This place might be their origin, but they're not tethered to it anymore. Each one is an independent being now, so even burning down the whole thing wouldn't make a difference."
Vern sighed. Obviously, it can’t be that simple.
Barely stopping himself from appearing disappointed in front of all the gazes filled with hope and expectations, he turned and asked, "Which one's next?"
Cedric pulled out his book and pen, "Lemme see. Are you ready?"
Vern nodded.
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He charged the amulet of restoration a little more than last time and wrapped it around his fingers as he waltzed into 3-51, the gun in his other hand.
He only needed a couple of glances to supplement his perception and paint it in grays that were a pretty accurate representation of the corridor.
His thoughts were constantly occupied by more than just a few concerns. First was obviously to figure out where the entity was hiding this time around.
Secondly, he focused on his own Thought Space. He theorized that his sense of imbalance stemmed not from personal mental discord but rather from being in an inherently unstable situation.
Therefore, if he could maintain his mental composure this time yet still experience that sense of imbalance in his Thought Space, it would partially validate his theory.
He had further ideas he wished to explore, but putting the cart before the horse wasn't how one experimented.
One thing at a time.
.
.
.
He went through his usual order of scouring these houses. Hall was the first destination, but distinctly, there was no dressing table at all.
Maybe they never had the dresser to begin with? He shrugged the oddity and moved on.
Surprisingly, he felt quite a bit at ease this time. The little noises didn't make him look around anxiously, nor did the creaking of the board get him all jittery.
Experience and routine were one hell of a thing. On top of that, the similar design of each house helped his perception in mapping it out far more conveniently—putting his mind at ease.
Following the exact same pattern, he kicked down the door of the bathroom, and when nothing jumped out of that small face mirror from inside, he closed it and moved on to the kitchen.
Tap Tap
His finger on the trigger, he sneaked in.
"…"
It was quite…ordinary, and there were no portable mirrors lying around this time. Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, he checked every corner of the place.
There were no mirrors in here at all. Vern frowned as he lampooned to himself, That only leaves one place. Hah. He sighed. They always want to keep me on my toes, eh?
Making sure the energy within the amulet was still at its peak, he made his way back to the entrance of the house to go downstairs.
The basement was the only spot he hadn't checked, after all. Given that Cedric was more than eighty percent certain that a spirit was inside this house, it could only be down there.
He avoided the awkward moment of having to confront all those piercing gazes once again when he retraced his steps because he always closed the door behind him.
It wasn't really locked. He did it so the spirits weren't unnecessarily scared away by Cedric, who was standing just a little distance away.
Sticking close to the railing, he focused on his senses and descended one step at a time.
There was no need to be afraid. He was okay. He could do this. These spirits weren't all that scary as long as they came at him one by one anyway.
Surprisingly or unsurprisingly, the moment he began his descent, that feeling of imbalance, which was nothing but a mere flicker until now, began exploding again.
One part of him almost wanted to consider this some kind of warning mechanism, but that wasn't a good idea. The sense of imbalance wasn't proportional to the threat in the last house.
So, it was a bad indicator.
Hah, he chuckled. He was going to be face to face with some terrifying and inexplicable thing in a moment, but here he was, nitpicking on his theories.
At least it helped with the nervousness.
However, only a few steps later, a strong, unpleasant odor hit him, and he sobered up.
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One step.
Two steps.
Three—
He stopped at the platform at the bottom of the stairs and prodded open the door before peering at the interior illuminated by the light of his lamp.
Pipes ran along the short ceiling of the chamber, extending beyond the barely plastered walls. Bricks seeped with moisture, and moss glowed in the purple light.
A dusty handloom of the old design collected spiderwebs in one corner while heaps of discarded daily items littered the rest of the floor.
Vern, however, had little time to assess their nuances, for his eyes were drawn to the dressing table that was half covered by an old cloth.
Why the hell is it down here? Did they not have the heart to throw it out or something?
Anyways, that didn't matter either. It was hard to see in this dim light, but he could make out a trail of something red and shiny on the floor.
Is that…blood?
Vern's heart clutched. The cloth on the table was ripped and torn, the same blood dripping from its frayed hem.
What could have happened for this—
No. Vern stopped himself right there. It didn't matter. He just had to finish his job and get out of here.
There were at least twenty more of these. He couldn't unnecessarily waste his time analyzing each one of them.
So he took a deep breath and waltzed in. The moment he did, darkness began taking hold of his surroundings.
The limited information he'd managed to gather before entering painted a world of grays in his perception, allowing him to 'see' beyond the reaches of his lamp.
The entity is here.
Vern waited with bated breath when suddenly, the cloth draped over the dressing table fluttered. He sucked in a deep breath, and soon, a corrupting darkness materialized in his gray perception.
Closing his eyes, he embraced the instability that bloomed within himself.
Adrenaline was going strong, and blood surged through his body with intense thumping, but he wasn't terrified, really.
Does this imply that the imbalance in my Thought Space is a result of placing myself in these precarious situations and not because of some mental instability?
He mulled over this idea while waiting as the darkness drew nearer, seemingly emboldened by his evident vulnerability.
For a moment, he pondered why they hadn't adopted new strategies like last time or simply avoided him altogether.
Am I really not as intimidating as Cedric, even though I already eliminated one of them easily? They should be fleeing from me as well.
Could this be the extent of their adaptive capabilities?
He didn't know. The presence of the entity here meant they had already made their stance clear.
In reality, this was the optimal scenario. If he could really finish them one by one, he wouldn't ask for more.
The dark shape slinked closer and closer, and this time, the window for a balanced position to begin his attack was pretty small.
So Vern poured a little more representation into the amulet, and it began to heat in his hands, aggravating him just like the skewed feeling within his Thought Space.
The feeling resembled the sensation of spotting a flaw in what was otherwise flawless. Imagine ten nearly straight lines on a sheet, with just one askew, disrupting the uniformity.
With each passing second, the discomfort intensified, and his desire to correct the misaligned line did so, too.
At that instant, the entity stopped and made to pounce towards him. His muscles tensed, and the random thoughts running through his head evaporated almost instantly.
Steady!
Vern couldn't show his hand before it lunged, or it might just jump backward into the mirror using that momentum.
If something like that happened, he would have wasted a golden opportunity.
Can't have that.
.
.
.
EAHHH!
The entity finally shrieked, going feral and giving up on the silent approach, knowing its prey couldn't run anymore.
And then it attacked.
Vern was ready for it. He snapped open his eyes, brandished the amulet, and retracted one leg, stepping to the side—perfectly avoiding the assault.
Watching it with his physical eyes didn't cause the entity to freeze in the air as he'd hoped, but when it crash-landed, it became immobile.
SKRIIII
It thrashed and convulsed, its skin evaporating as Vern backed away just enough to make sure it couldn't tear at him, even if it gained a sudden burst of power.
He looked down at the thing and reveled in the feeling that blossomed within him.
He had already somewhat come to terms with the fact that these entities had to die, and he had to be the one to judge them.
There was no point in double-guessing himself at every step. There would be time for that later.
But in this moment? He savored the sensation of the crooked line straightening out. The irritation in his Thought Space, which had been a constant annoyance since he was on the basement stairs, felt alleviated.
Yet, that wasn't it. It was as though every line had become slightly more aligned. Of course, these weren't literal lines in his Thought Space, but he didn't know how to put it in a better way.
It was another step forward toward that illusory goal of acclimating his Viewpoint to his Vision.
This time, however, he might have uncovered the fundamental cause behind this phenomenon. The concept linking all three occasions where the shade on his perception became deeper.
The core tenet that propelled him farther down his path as an Observer.
Looking at the evaporating…corpse of the pale-ish entity, he spoke to no one in particular, "It's about finding stability within instability."
That sounded vague, but one had to take every word of the sentence literally—even their order.
In essence, always maintaining a constant balance and perfect stability wasn't the right answer.
He needed to embrace the chaos first—precisely what he did by stepping into these houses shrouded in uncertainty.
Only when things had spiraled to their most chaotic, to the brink of collapse, was it time to restore balance.
That's exactly what he achieved by turning the tables on these entities at the end moment—even if unintentionally.
Vern nodded. So I do have to find an optimal balance of stability and instability in my actions, but their order and gravity matters, too.
Thus, the more significant his intervention to restore balance, the more profound the impact on his perception, and the closer he moved towards fully embodying his vision.
This ran very much counter to his prior idea of always maintaining a perfect balance.
It was like a weighing scale. He could only make a bigger change in the balance when the scale was tipped to one side.
Should the scale remain evenly balanced, only minor tweaks were possible to maintain its stability, which offered little in terms of personal growth.
He would need more testing to figure out the exact details, but this was definitely the gist of it.
He shook his head, Just how is this so…nuanced?
He knew that was a stupid question to ask, but he wished to know. He really did. Observation was such a complex framework with intricate setups like this that constantly blew his mind.
Vern tilted his head upwards, almost wishing to see past the ceiling and the light of day to gaze at that gash in the sky.
Things like these reminded him of his meager place in the vast cosmos.
In this ruminative trance, he waited for the convulsing entity to run out of energy. Soon, liquid began pooling underneath it as the screams began to die down.
CRASH!
Suddenly, the gate upstairs slammed open.
"VERN! GET OUT OF THERE!"