Hensen's heart pounded like a drum in his chest, loud and frantic. …Ax…Axiom? His knees felt weak, and a sense of panic fluttered in his chest. From…Ins…Institute?
A cold, numbing terror gripped him, and he plopped back down on his seat, his hands trembling uncontrollably. It…it still exists!
His gaze darted frantically, seeking escape from the plethora of eyes that used to watch him all the time. It's them. It's them. It's them!
His hand clutched at his head, and he rocked back and forth. No. No. No. he chanted, his thoughts an utter mess.
How could someone from the Institute be here?
He shook his head. No. They're not real! Institute is not real! These feelings are not real!
He'd been forced to inherit the Third Rune from his predecessor after she'd lost herself to the whispers, but there were hundreds before her. Hundreds that…
NO! THEY'RE NOT MINE!
He knew they were not his, but emotions flashed through his mind. Of terror, of a fear so primal, so innate it surpassed his dread towards the Cryptic One.
Hensen gripped the contraption containing Mistress' light harder, his knuckles growing white from the sheer pressure.
That touch.
That simple touch seemed to mend something in his broken mind, and his shivering body calmed a little.
His hand moved to flick the lighter ablaze and let her light wash all over him. Yet, he somehow managed to keep his hands to himself.
This wasn't the first time this had happened to him. Every time Institute came up, something stared at him from inside. He…he didn't understand it.
Lifting his top hat, he ran his hands through his hair and focused on the people around him. It would be stupid to spend more time within his mind. He couldn't afford a real episode here.
.
.
.
"This…this can't be real," a woman whispered, her voice trembling as her hands clutched at her chest, eyes wide with disbelief.
A young observer rifled through a heavy tome in his hands, "There's a zeroth Axiom?" he murmured, his brows furrowing in confusion.
"Is this…is this really happening?" another exclaimed.
"Balance…? A never seen before axiom, BALANCE!?" yelled a man who seemed like a scholar.
"The Institute actually existed, then? It isn't just a figment of imagination of the last generation of Observers?" an older man asked aloud, turning to his peers as if seeking confirmation.
"Didn't the records speak of them being lost to the time? Are they resurfacing? Is Institute coming back?" a paranoid voice called out from the back, each question louder than the last, injecting a note of fear into the growing cacophony of voices.
For the first time throughout this whole confluence, Hensen felt like he was of the same mind as these people. What was going on? A zeroth axiom had emerged, not as a line of text, but rather…as an Observer?
He generally wouldn't care even if the sky fell down, but…this? His mind whirled as he tried to look past the horror that arose from within him from what the Axioms signified.
Suddenly, an idea emerged in his mind like a bolt out of blue. A shudder went down his spine and the idea took further root.
Could they… Hensen gasped, waves after waves rocking his mind space.
It should be possible, right? He's from the Institute, after all. Hensen wondered, hope growing in his chest. If his conjecture was right, he might not have to give up this rune as well as his life anytime soon and continue to serve Mistress without being replaced.
.
.
.
His excitement was palpable, yet he knew such a request shouldn't be made lightly. Not if this…entity was really who they claimed to be. He wasn't one to believe in gods because he knew they couldn't help him. But this…?
This was it. He didn't care if it was a false hope. He'd latch onto anything, much less such a tangible one.
So, he adopted a posture of deep reverence. Setting his top hat gently upon his lap, he closed his eyes and clasped his hands before him.
After making sure he had the words at least close to being right, he infused them with his singularity, and in a hushed, reverent tone, he intoned, "O Lord Axiom, arbiter of balance, I beseech thee—grant me insight to reconquer this Third Rune wrought forth by your esteemed disciples."
"For this burden is beyond mine talents and threatens my very being. Guide me through its tempest, that I might harness its power without succumbing to its whims."
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Vern looked down at the visionaries from the highest spot in this Nexus, a sharp look in his eyes.
Yet, his nervousness was so off the charts that his heart, which he'd forcefully caged inside a sphere of stability, was sending literal pulses of instability.
Cold sweat trickled down his brows behind the mask as he watched the audience devolve into chatters and some of the wildest conjectures he'd ever heard.
Luckily, his bet had paid off. Sighing internally, he reflected, It seems like zeroth axiom doesn't already exist. This was his greatest fear when building up this fake identity. While he was waiting for Rupert to destabilize the hierarchical structure to the greatest extent, he'd given it a very serious thought.
He had to meet many self-imposed constraints to construct an identity that would stand under the scrutiny of these terrifyingly knowledgeable observers. So anyone that was very famous, like First Observer or something along those lines, was out of the question. After all, Vern knew very little about them.
Beyond that, it wouldn't work for this identity to be entirely unrecognizable as that would have little to no effect in calming the greed-driven minds of this crowd. Him being a 'powerful Eterna' who traversed Nexus' highest step, would only go so far without actual power to back it up.
This had narrowed down his search quite a bit.
He'd even considered pretending to be an Elden One or a god but discarded such thoughts in mere moments. I've already attracted enough attention from those beings as is. He didn't even want to imagine the kinds of horrific situations that disrespecting such beings would land him in.
So he had to go for something that didn't really exist but still held enough weight to their name.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
And hence, Axioms. Yes, they weren't supposed to be living, breathing humans, but who was to say otherwise? Such were the wonders of this world of subjectivity.
Vern himself had considered the idea of 'concept' like axioms being personified before today. Heck, he even had conjectures that some gods might very well have been make-believes at first but ended up becoming real gods over a period of sustained faith.
He didn't have any proof for this, but the idea was one of the best ones he could come up with in such a short time. Regardless, any worries he had about the matter were erased when these people made even wilder conjectures as to why he existed.
One seemingly unimportant but a point of great indecision for him was: which Axiom to masquerade as. Because he didn't really know the axioms or their numbers all that well. So, instead of picking existing or the ones he didn't know, he'd chosen to reel back to Zeroth.
There was little chance that such an Axiom already existed, and Lady permitting, it didn't. At least the reactions of the crowd made it seem as such.
Vern watched this whole situation and hierarchical structure slowly fall back into a semblance of stability as his thought space gleamed with intense pulsation—further aligning his singularity to the viewpoint.
Instability before Stability. This whole ordeal embodied his tenet so well that he still couldn't believe it. If Rupert hadn't decided to be a piece of shit and try to execute his fellow pretender, he might have been able to wait even longer—letting things destabilize further.
Yes, a pretender. That lady he'd just helped up was no Eterna. At least, that's the feedback he got from the will of the Nexus. He'd managed to contact the will in quite an unexpected manner.
Once he'd flipped to pages belonging to Convergence note—the ones connected to the weft and indirectly to Nexus, he'd tried a few conjectures and failed miserably before realizing something important.
The Nexus was an extension of Lady Sylphina. So, he'd sent a note to her trace—at least, what he understood of it—asking to focus all the nexus's energy on restricting Rupert further.
Which worked! Except that meant he couldn't contact Lady Sylphina this way. Just Nexus.
Beyond that, these visionaries weren't wrong when they said the Nexus was low on representation. Simply containing Rupert's attack had caused the Nexus to lose all its light, and the man was already recovering from it.
And that is where he realized that the Lady who was daring enough to try and assassinate Rupert couldn't be controlled by Nexus at all—just like himself.
Yet, she wasn't his concern right now. The real problem was that Nexus was again losing its grip on Rupert, which meant Vern was essentially standing inside a lion's den. If he couldn't get Rupert and everyone else to back down quickly, and the man decided to turn it into another battle, he would be dead unless he somehow escaped—which would render it all useless anyway.
Did I go overboard? he wondered, eyeing the silent Rupert from the corner of his eyes. The man seemed lost in thought, his expression unreadable.
This is my chance.
He hadn't come up here without a plan. So when an appropriate lull appeared in the chaotic ramblings of the crowd, he raised his hand.
Wetting his lips, he began once again, pumping as much authority in his voice as possible, "I am certain all of you have myriads of questions. Alas, I deem you lot unworthy of further explanation."
He whirled around, one hand in his pocket, "Since all of you still have some time in here, you might as well watch me affirm this realm." Then he glanced at the seventh row for a second, his mind patching together runes that should mean to reduce the pressure on the person of his choice.
His hand inside his coat moved on its own, imprinting this rune onto a torn piece of convergence note with the small pencil nib. He made sure the movements were minimal and just came off as him being eccentric.
This particular note was for the will of nexus once again. Once this was done, he followed up, "King Keras should be able to confirm the validity of my claim once I'm done."
The former Eterna whom Rupert had attacked—his eyes bloody, suddenly perked up. He gasped, feeling the pressure on his singularity reduced, and his eyes widened.
After a few seconds of being filled in by the woman who looked like his wife, he suddenly stood tall and bowed, "Your wish is my command, Lord Axiom. I shall do everything in my power to predict our fate—even if it means I'll regress another time."
The visionaries hemmed and hawed, most of them unwilling witnesses to his actions yet too scared to do anything about it. Vern could only hurry it up. The longer this went on, the more loopholes would appear in his performance.
So he nodded to King Keras, actively cycling the stability of his mask to seem enigmatic, and walked towards the pillar of light in the center of it all.
Tap. Tap.
The whole crowd turned silent, and he felt each and every one's eyes boring down on him. A shiver ran down his spine, reminding him of the strength of these people outside this Nexus. Each and every one of them could easily crush him like a bug.
They could—
Hahhh, let's not worry about that right now.
Just have to make it look flashy, he thought. There wasn't much else to do, after all. If he'd gotten the lay of the things right, then when King Keras divined the fate of the world again, it should come off as stable.
He just had to pretend to have done something to lay claim to it officially.
Well, I hope they can't figure out the exact time of the restoration, or I'll be caught. There's just so many moving parts, he grumbled.
Feeling all sorts of pressure weighing down on him, he walked farther, his left hand outstretched, right one still inside his pocket in case he was in further need to communicate with Nexus's will again.
.
.
.
"Stop." came a measured voice, and Vern's mind shuddered. No! Don't do this, you…
Slowly letting his left palm drop back down, he looked back at Rupert, a cold expression in his eyes as he answered in the deadest voice, "What?"
"I have to ask you," he began, holding his cane as he walked towards the center. "Does your method help us push back against the calamities we face today?"
Vern's expression turned dark. He knew where this was going. Acting unbothered and only succeeding because of his mask, he replied, "It doesn't need to. The world is sufficient as is."
Rupert nodded. "Then, I have one final question."
The crowd suddenly looked hopeful once again, their loyalties very clear. Vern had a bad feeling about this, so he didn't respond at all.
Rupert continued, tapping his cane repeatedly before stopping as he inquired, "Would you like to join the Council of Overseers?"
"Hahaha," Vern laughed, "The human greed knows no bounds. At least think over your words before spouting them out so carelessly." Vern chuckled out loud at this one. Rupert really was one stubborn bastard. Sneakily forming a new rune with his right hand, he prepared himself for anything.
Showing even a hint of weakness now would essentially doom his whole charade for good. Nexus should be able to give him at least enough time to forcefully kick everyone here. If Rupert tried to kill him or anything of the like, he wasn't about to go down easily.
For good measure, he even reformed the rune that would try to pressure Rupert again. Even if Nexus didn't have the energy for another full-on assault, there should be enough to help him plot his own escape.
Assuming nothing falls out of my calculation, that is. Which it almost always did for observers for some reason.
Feeling an odd mix of terrifying pressure and thrill coursing through his body, he stared back at Rupert, his stance challenging the man to try anything funny.
"Overseers!" Rupert shouted, and Vern narrowed his eyes, his fingers feeling jittery..
That's when…
Bamm! A sudden explosion erupted from Rupert's position, and Vern's pupils dilated as a red aura threatened to engulf him. What the fuck?
His mind raced, and his hand scribbled. Yet, something even more bizarre transpired before the runes could even take effect.
Vern watched, befuddled, as the small outward propulsion suddenly halted and reeled back toward the center. The explosion…reversed?
Nexus' suppression came a moment too late as the sole pillar of light in the hall faded, plunging it all into the darkness once again.
The red implosion settled down in this shadowy ambiance, and within it floated a man above even Vern himself. His body levitated in the air, disregarding the pressure of the Nexus as if he was standing in his own space.
The crowd shot back up and cheered, their shouts turning into a cacophony of celebration. Almost as if literal god had come down to grant their wishes.
His middle eye drowned this otherwise dark hall, a crimson red, and Rupert spoke, his voice ethereal, "Overseers. A ghost of the past that wishes to ignore the pleas of humanity has no right to decide its future."
He extended both his palms out in the air from the red void, and like lightning striking in the heavens, red vines shot out of them. In a blink of an eye, they were in front of everyone, and people rushed to connect themselves to the Essence Strand.
Vern, who was somehow left entirely unharmed, watched it all with narrowed eyes. Ghost of the past, huh? An apt moniker.
However, a sharp grin appeared on his face. Cracking his neck, he openly pulled out his notepad and eyed the golden runes floating around him.
Rupert had played the wrong hand. He should've gone straight for the kill.
Time for this ghost of the past to scare the fuck out of everyone.