Chapter 148 - Divination

Vern beheld the crowd as myriads of thoughts ran through his mind. His heart raced faster than a train, but he somehow managed not to melt under the stares of everyone.

Fuck. It actually worked! He knew this method would scare the hell out of everyone, but it turned out to be far more effective than his wildest imagination. Even Rupert, a man of myriad means, was clearly shaken to the core when Vern sent him that note.

This was something he'd prepared beforehand for such a situation. It was actually just an extension of what he'd tried out with Esther a while ago. He first sent a note to himself and then used the 'proximity list'—as he'd come to call it—that appeared and slowly copied down the trace runes of people around him.

Unsurprisingly, now that he had a better intuitive understanding of this runic language, it didn't take him over ten minutes to copy one rune as it did for Esther.

And in the moment of truth, he'd simply used these traces he'd found on this proximity list to pretend to know their traces. A bead of sweat trickled down his face behind the mask. Looks like no one's suspecting that I know their traces and understand their viewpoint.

Because if he did, there was no way he'd leave Rupert unharmed or let these people go unpunished. He sighed internally, Alas, my 'knowledge' is fake, and I can't really do anything but send these people notes with these traces.

However, there was a silver lining in all this. He'd learned something peculiar when he was slowly perfecting everyone's traces. Two of the traces from the proximity list overlapped with those in the fate list.

One was the trace beneath his own on the fate list—second—the 'fated person,' whereas the other was seventh on that list.

His eyes involuntarily landed on the lady who was pretending to be an Eterna in front of him. It has to be her, he reasoned. His multiple data points and common sense told him she was the fated person he'd sent all those stupid notes to. He smiled, Also, the one who asked me to shut the fuck up.

There were a bunch of reasons for this assertion. From his understanding, the proximity list was generated with himself as its origin. So those further away from him would appear down the list, while closer ones would be around the top.

When he was sitting at the bottom, the overlapping traces had appeared somewhere in the middle of the proximity list, making it impossible for him to associate with a real person in this room.

Well, maybe I could have done it if I had precise measurements of the room, the distance between each seat, row, and a couple of other metrics. As much as his eyes had improved, they sadly, hadn't evolved to the point of making him a walking ruler.

So, he had another idea in mind. Triangulation. He could use multiple data points to figure out what trace belonged to what person based on the changes in the list. He already had a data point from the bottom. One from the top and one from either end of the hall would be enough.

Except, it was impossible with how things turned out. He couldn't just abandon his position and walk to either the right or left of the hall and whip out his notepad again with everyone staring at him like a hawk.

That would be far too suspicious.

However, surprisingly, things still turned out in his favor with his second data point, the one he'd gotten just a couple minutes ago by sending that final warning to himself as well.

To his surprise, the second trace on the fate list happened to be third on the proximity list, too. So, excluding himself, this person had to be situated very close to him.

Which narrowed it down to three people—Rupert, the pretender lady, and the lord of primordial blood.

He probably could have confirmed it further by moving a bit, but the fact that this lady could ignore the pressure of Nexus just like himself clearly suggested she shared more qualities with him than the other two options.

Combining all this, there was only one conclusion to be had. She's the one my notes default to.

Unfortunately, he still couldn't connect a face with the seventh entry on the fate list. That one was still somewhere around the middle of the pack in his second data point. And I'm definitely not getting the third data point.

Shaking his head, he focused back on the situation. My words should have sunk in by now.

With a sharp turn, he announced, "It's time for me to fulfill my duty." Many eyes bore down on his back like the last time, and he chanted, Don't interrupt me this time. Please don't stop me.

He was out of cards to play. If Rupert stopped him again, he really didn't know how to salvage the situation.

He made his way towards the large pillar connected to the lotus dome and extended one hand towards it while the other furiously scribbled some instructions for the Nexus to follow inside his pocket.

Just have to make it look flashy, he reminded himself.

In another few seconds, when no one dared to interrupt him, he exhaled a deep breath. His left hand resting on the pillar, he said, "Balance," keeping up with the theme of this Axiom he'd built.

Suddenly, the dim pillar exploded with light extending outwards from his touch.

Thumpp

A sharp, bassy pulse echoed from his position as the pillar of light flickered with different shades of light. The crowd's eyes finally left his back and focused on the anomaly surrounding him.

Gasps reverberated in his ears, but he paid them no mind and slowly reduced the flickering of the pillar, making it settle down on a particular shade of gray.

All this, however, depleted the already low reserves of Nexus, and Vern felt the end of this confluence draw near. It was already barely keeping everyone in check. If he let it run for much longer, Rupert would be unbridled, and he might just figure out that Vern had no real strength.

Can't let that happen, he asserted. That would be terrible. So, as soon as the pillar settled on that perfect shade of gray, he leisurely disengaged his hand from the pillar and turned back to the crowd.

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His eyes landed on the seventh row, and without his prompting, King Keras stood up and asked in deference, "May I begin the divination, Lord Axiom?"

Vern nodded before adding, "Please be quick about it. We don't have much time left."

Keras's face turned solemn, and after what looked like an intense debate with himself, he asked with a hint of dread in his voice, "Lord, could you help me ascend up to the throne of the First Observer? That would allow me to divine the artifact's resilience directly."

Vern narrowed his eyes. Keras's face paled, and he explained further, "Oh, Arbiter of Balance, I have no nefarious intentions in proposing this. Direct access to the Nexus' core will allow me to finish the divination in a few minutes."

"Whereas if I repeated my prior methods, I might really be forced to burn my insights and regress further, all the while having no guarantee of a successful divination. Obviously, it's understandable if such a thing is not possible."

Vern debated it for a couple of seconds. Keras didn't seem like the person who would take this opportunity to destroy the core of Nexus, but he didn't fully trust him either. Hmm, I can just increase the pressure back up if he tries something funny.

Blinking, he replied, "Come."

Keras's face lit up, and he bowed before quickly making his way out of the row. His maroon hair and beard, paired with somewhat old yet sharp features, gave him a solemn look as he ascended the stairs.

Once at the top, his eyes briefly gravitated towards Rupert, a dark look within them, but he clenched his fist and walked towards the pillar, his gait strong.

Seems like what Rupert did to him only fueled his rage further rather than scaring him, Vern speculated.

Right before reaching out to the pillar, he turned towards Vern as if asking for permission. Vern didn't know what to feel about this and just nodded.

Keras's eyes suddenly shone orange, and an aura of similar color covered his hands.

Vern watched with interest, but someone from the crowd murmured, "It's the majesty's hand of fate. We're seeing it in action!"

He was continuously amazed by how quickly everyone double-crossed their beliefs. A couple of minutes ago, they would have gladly denounced 'their majesty.' Now, they were more than happy to sing his praises.

He felt like there had to be some kind of explanation for this in his understanding of structure.

There wasn't. At least not yet.

This reminded him of the rapid integration that his thought space was about to undergo. The insight sphere within him felt so taut, warped by the immense instability he'd let things devolve into before taking action to stabilize them.

However, he knew this was the right course of action for himself. He would jump leaps and bounds ahead as a first-shade observer and get closer to the second shade.

However, he felt like he wouldn't be ready to shade his perception another time even after this giant leap in aligning his insights towards this vision's singularity.

The reason was simple. He'd had two major events where he'd embodied Instability before Stability—one in the mirror realm on his first mission and the second right now.

But beyond that, he barely had any insights into the structure fundamental. His foundational insights into the matter were sorely lacking.

Essentially, once this was over, he felt like he would have the bare minimum insights needed to advance, but he would be missing out on the maximum potential of this shade.

And given that this was a shade where he'd created his own Vision from scratch, he had no plans of dropping the ball.

He suddenly felt like massaging his temples as he sighed internally, Hahh. It's not like I know what Vision to shade my perception next with anyway.

He clearly had many more bottlenecks to clear before he could even think about advancing to the next shade.

Closing his eyes for a second, he opened them back up and focused on Keras. The man went around the pillar and plucked at it with his glowing hand at one place after another.

He extracted shimmering orange light with each pluck and collected it in his other hand. Vern tried to figure out what fundamentals were at play here but quickly lost focus.

He was tired. Tired beyond measure. Adrenaline and the thrill of overturning such a strong tide, all the while fooling the most knowledgeable people was the only reason he hadn't just passed out.

Copying all those runes required intense focus and mental strength, sapping him of almost all his representation. He was essentially running on fumes right now. Simply keeping up his mask's cycling stability and instability was getting harder.

So he simply watched Keras accumulate more light from the pillar as its shape became more and more evident. It was condensing into a prism.

In a few more minutes filled with hushed whispers from the crowd, Keras perfected the orange prism in his other hand. Finally, after his seventh full circle around the pillar, King Keras stopped, his face pale as a sheet.

Heaving, he backed up a little and turned towards the crowd, the prism in his hands outstretched in the air. Vern had his eyes glued to the gleaming object, a hint of apprehension bubbling inside him.

What if this divination proclaimed that the world was still on a short lease? He bit his lips. That would be terrible. Given the nature of these people, he didn't harbor any doubts that they would quickly turn on him once again.

Yes, he had the deterrent of knowing their traces, but they would still need some kind of solution for this massive problem, and as the debate prior had displayed, there weren't many good options.

Cold sweat trickled down his back as Keras lethargically opened his eyes and held the prism aloft, letting it catch the light from the surroundings. The orange glow refracted through the prism, scattering vibrant beams across the amphitheater, casting a warm light on the faces of the gathered visionaries.

With a deep breath, Keras began to speak, his voice shaky but carrying a weight that settled over the crowd. "The prism's steadiness speaks for itself," he continued, "There is hope!"

The paranoid and cautious crowd murmured among themselves, their conversations shifting from whispers to explosive speculations in an instant.

Turning towards Vern, he added, "Lord Axiom was true to his words. Though I don't see an eternal rigidity within this prism, the Arbiter of Balance has bought us more than enough time."

Vern felt a surge of relief wash over him as his taut nerves began to ease bit by bit. I didn't misunderstand it all, then. I really helped Lady Sylphina and, by implication, the whole world.

It felt…surreal.

However, before he could ponder the effects of his actions any further, Keras waved his hands, and the prism dispersed into shimmering motes of light. He knelt before Vern, his regal robes sweeping the ground in reverence.

Keras spoke, his voice resolute, "I—no, the entire Estefan kingdom—is in your debt, Lord Axiom. You've granted us all a new lease on life. Without your intervention, the world would have lost something irreplaceable under the mandate of Omniscience."

With a deep breath, Keras lowered his head further, his voice swelling with fervor, "Praise be to the Arbiter who embodies Balance! Your hand alone holds the fabric of our existence together."

Vern again had no clue what to do about this. This was a seventh or a former eighth-shade observer and a king, for fuck's sake. Who the hell was he to pretend to be better than him?

It has to be done anyway, he reasoned. So he nodded curtly as if it wasn't a big deal at all.

However, that's when another shout came from the crowd, "Praise be to the arbiter who wields the Axioms!"

Someone else chimed in, "Praise be to Lord Axiom!"

A bitter smile appeared on Vern's face as more voices joined in.

"Glory to Lord Axiom!"

"Exalt the Axiom!"

"Honor to the Keeper of Balance!"

This unexpected feedback somehow made the assimilation of his vision into his Thought Space faster. He wondered, Could this be because the structure is becoming more stable by this action?

Yet, that didn't matter. As much as he was opposed to being too much in the limelight or being praised by these opportunists, he wouldn't put a stop to it if it meant he would advance further as an observer.

Regardless, the clock ticked, and suddenly, the flaccid voice of Nexus's spirit intruded in this cacophony of glorifying yells, "The pact is complete. Insufficient flux for a graceful exit. Expulsion imminent."

Suddenly, the cheers stopped, and a buzz went through the crowd. The observers sitting on the second row shone with blue light and before they could voice their disapproval, they disappeared.

Finally! Vern acted patient, not letting his fatigue show in these final moments.

However, in this charged atmosphere, an unexpected voice emerged once again. It was Rupert as he spoke with a tap of his cane, "Arbiter of Balance, would you be willing to share a proxy trace with all of us?"