Chapter 188 - Setting The Stage

His highest priority goal was to invite Hensen and coerce the man into divulging secrets of the Third Rune. That information would ease so many worries in his mind and possibly even make him unstoppable in terms of researching new Visions.

Well, assuming that gigantic planet-sized eye can actually be avoided.

However, he'd thought about it before and was firmly against the idea of Hensen being one of his first audiences. That man seemed somewhat devout toward Axiom, but the chances of him being zealous enough to just give away secrets of such a matter were next to none.

And how would I even ask for it? The scenery of him awkwardly trying to suss out information about such a delicate topic was absurd to say the least. Not to speak of the risks associated with trying to play around a madman like Hensen.

Hahh, he sighed. Unfortunately, there was an even greater bottleneck with this line of thought. I don't have Hensen's trace.

He'd never managed to isolate Hensen enough to narrow down his trace during the confluence. That was to say he couldn't invite Hensen right now even if he wanted to.

Squinting, he turned towards the pale witness and asked, "Would you happen to know if there's a way for me to figure out the trace of someone who's prayed to me?"

The pale woman who'd been silently looking in his direction shook her head, "My apologies, kind one, but I know naught of what transpires beyond the Nexus."

Damn.

"Hmm, then can you tell me a little about the golden lists of convergence I see when receiving notes from others? Would you happen to know what each of them signifies?"

Because who was to say one of those lists wasn't full of traces of people who'd prayed to Axiom?

She seemed to prepare her words for a while before answering, "The threads of the weft extend in myriad shapes and forms, kind one. From what little I know, there are infinite relationships amongst the entities of thine realm, and what you can observe is limited by thy perspective."

Vern was prepared for a non-answer, but this was better than that. Way better. He mulled over these words when a sudden realization struck him, Wait, she said Relationships!

That was a fundamental!

His pacing feet picked up the speed as he processed the implications. Could the variety of these lists be dependent on my understanding of relations? The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

Weft of Elyndor, in its essence, had to be a product of near-infinite insight in the domain of relationships. After all, it related entities to one another in myriad ways. So, it only made sense that he could interact with it better if he understood the very concept the weft embodied.

Actually…

He suddenly stopped and pulled out his notepad before penning gibberish to himself. A plethora of nonsensical glowing lists appeared in front of him. With that, he closed his eyes, reaching out to one of the most prominent stars by his thought space—his own.

There were myriads of smaller stars, too, with new ones popping up every day, but he'd explicitly decided not to touch any of them. At least not until he had more information regarding the risks of such interactions from Vigil. That god-damned confidentiality ritual was close.

He'd stopped even bothering to watch the new prayers because he wasn't very keen about letting these sick bastards live in his head rent-free. If they wanted to sacrifice lives in his name, they better be ready for punishment the day he could actually dole it out.

Shaking his head, he approached his own star. At the same time, his perception kept a strong eye on how the lists behaved as he did this.

The closer he got, the more of the golden runes blossomed into shapes. Yet, they never coalesced into anything meaningful, not even when he connected himself to Axiom's singularity momentarily.

Hmm. Didn't work.

He backed out and focused on a non-descript star. This time, the runes came closer, but even when he was just short of making full contact with this random person's star, nothing really happened.

Tch, he clicked his tongue. That didn't work, either.

However, soon, he shrugged, Well, it was worth a shot. Clearly, his acumen for relationships was nowhere near enough for this.

He narrowed his eyes. I need to put Relationship fundamentals highest on the list for what to shade my perception next with. Yesterday, he was a little swayed by the abilities of a Shepherd and how their cognition fundamental fueled visions entirely bypassed the first Axiom.

However, this was far more tangible than any of their illusions. If he could have a better grasp of relations, it would not just synergize better with his current structural insights but also possibly help him find a convergence list that might have Hensen's trace on it.

"Not today, though, it seems."

That was fine. He wasn't about to invite a fifth shade observer in his humble abode so early anyway. He needed a crowd before that.

Actually, I think that is even more important than worrying about Hensen at the moment. He'd now tasted what it was like to be linked with the singularity of a pseudo-god. It presented him with advantages unlike anything else at his current shade.

And that very singularity was running out.

I need Axiom's name to spread. But when he focused on the treacherous stars in his thought space, his expression turned dark. And I need that name to be representative of the Zeroth Axiom—Balance, not this made-up bullshit.

He never thought he'd one day have to fight against false propaganda.

And I'm not even a politician, he grumbled, running his hand through his hair.

Well…who to really invite, then? he wondered, staring at all these lists full of traces. He'd crossed off Esther from this list long ago. He didn't want to interact with anyone who knew him personally while he was playing as Axiom.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

If she ever managed to learn his true identity, that would instantly knock the singularity's usefulness down. It would be the stupidest way to lose such a massive boon. Yeah, no.

He furrowed his brows as he continued to slowly pen down the gibberish he'd sent to himself as he scoured all the lists for some meaning.

Beyond the 'fate list' and 'distance list,' he'd never figured out anything else. The latter only had two traces on it—his own and Lady Sylphina's. He turned his eyes back up to her for a second, and she didn't react at all, probably unaware of his sneaking glance.

She has to be her, right!? Every sign pointed at this woman being her eminence, except she was clearly not.

Bahh, he waved his hand. It didn't matter right now. He turned his gaze towards the only other list that made sense to him—fate list.

At its top was his own name, but beneath it were other ones. He was sure of the identity of a second person. It was that girl who pretended to be an Eterna during the confluence.

I'm pretty sure I left a good impression on her.

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Yet, he shook his head once again. That's not too important right now. However, she's still a good candidate.

He'd been thinking about it for the last few days and came to the conclusion that he had to be very strategic with how he played his cards here. After all, he was going to put up a performance, and he needed a varied audience.

He needed them to be…impressionable, even gullible.

However, that ran counter to his end goal of growing his singularity as Axiom. Such observers wouldn't have much in the name of influence or power, which was to say, even performing miracles as Axiom in front of them wouldn't grow his singularity by much.

I need to strike a balance. Find a way to make an impression, but also not do so in front of total novices.

And someone who dared to try and assassinate an Eterna wasn't to be taken lightly. Regardless, he was still very curious about her. Why could she ignore the pressure of Nexus as well? Did she survive Duskfall the same way he did?

If so, what were her experiences? Why was she so passionate about going against Rupert? There was clearly a lot more here than met the eye, and it would be a shame for him to let such an opportunity pass by.

"Hmm, okay, I think that's one person confirmed."

However, he wanted more. Nexus had enough flux to invite and send back over fifty people. If he didn't muck it up and pick the right people, he might not even have to spend much flux to keep their viewpoints suppressed.

Which begged the question, Hmm, what if this woman is a high-shade observer? The chances of that being the case were close to none from what he'd seen, but what about the next guy he'd gamble to invite? And the next one to that?

He leaned on the glassy pillar that encased the central throne and mulled it over. I need some way to reliably pick my audience. I can't afford to accidentally invite an observer too many shades above me.

It would reduce the amount of time he could keep them in here. He didn't want to deal with that. Lower shade observers were easy. He could just stop them as necessary, but mid-to-higher shade ones would require constant suppression.

So he wondered and soon came up with an idea, Should I divine this? He didn't have a lot of information, but surely it would give him something.

He'd only begun to nod and find himself a chair when a sudden flash of inspiration crossed his mind, and he entirely stilled, "Wait!"

He squinted and memorized the shape of that pretender lady's trace before furiously penning it down on the notepad.

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Nothing happened.

But he expected this. So, after that, he added the most generic set of words one would use while exchanging notes, '…it is the…'

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Beyond his wildest expectations, golden runes rushed towards his notepad, and words formed on the paper, 'It is the observation record for the first shade of Listener sequence? Are you sure?'

"…"

He stared at his notepad, speechless.

That…worked?

He blinked rapidly, unsure if this was some trick. This was meant to be an intrusive thought, a fun idea he would've happily shrugged off if it didn't work.

What the hell?

He'd simply added a trace before his usual keyphrase to initiate the echoes of the past. And if his assumption was right, then putting the trace prior to echoes limited the kinds of notes he could land on. That was to say, this note was written by the girl from Confluence. The—

Hmm, wait. I should confirm first.

He somehow tamped down his excitement and repeated the process from the start, and this time, the echoes read, 'It is the crowning ceremony, and the royal guards are extra alert. I don't think it’s wise to sneak in.'

Vern frowned but repeated one more time.

Another seemingly unrelated message.

But on his fifth try, just the fifth try, he landed on the earlier message about some listener sequence once again. Repeating this further kept cycling him back to the same set of messages.

These echoes are clearly from the same person! There was no way he'd land on the same note so quickly otherwise.

The implications quickly settled on him, and a grin covered his face. He could essentially narrow down notes that were sent by one specific person. With his eyes glowing eerily, he proclaimed, "I think I know how to pick my audience now."

With a mad fervor, he began to suss out echoes for each and every trace on the myriads of golden lists. He had a varying degree of success with it.

Most of the traces didn't collapse the state of runes into words, no matter what keyphrase he used. He attributed them to be traces of people who'd never used a convergence note.

Then, there were some where trying to read even a single word felt like it would destroy his brain, so he steered clear of them right away. That was bound to be a person of power that he didn't need to invite anyway.

He also encountered unsuitable candidates who were exchanging notes about finding a record to shade their perception for the first time. They weren't good marks either.

Which left him with only a few choices that fit all his criteria.

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"Lady Syl—I mean, Miss Witness, I remember you controlled the amount of light pouring in from the canopy when I came in. I wonder what other appearance modifications you can perform to the Nexus."

"It can be whatever you deem fit, kind one. This is but a dream, after all."

Vern barely held himself from latching onto that last sentence because he knew she wouldn't know why she said that. So, he sighed and asked the important follow-up question, "Would that cost me flux?"

She nodded.

Ahhhhh! He'd gotten his hopes high for no reason.

"Never mind, then. I'll only ask for a modification if the situation calls for it. Please let me know if I'm about to run low on flux, including what's necessary to send everyone I'm about to invite back."

She nodded.

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He made his final set of preparations but remembered something out of the blue, "Hmm, actually, Miss Witness, where were you during the confluence? Uh, I mean, when a lot of observers congregated here recently?"

"…I don't know, kind one. I was here, but…not?"

Well, she seems more confused than I am.

"Uhh, I ask because I'll have to come up with a role for you to play."

She shook her head, "I must not be observed by anyone but you, kind one. I'll leave once you have guests."

Vern raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. He kinda expected it. Nonetheless, that reminded him of something awkward, "Actually, one final thing, Miss Witness."

"Mhm…?"

"Is there a better way for me to ask you to perform certain actions with the Nexus than sneakily penning them down on the convergence note?"

He felt too much like a charlatan doing it that way. Surely, there had to be a better way.

She nodded, "Inside Nexus, the weft is everywhere. You don't need to rely on subpar methods of making contact, kind one."

And then suddenly, a voice emerged in his head, "Not you."

He was instantly reminded of how he'd communicated with her eminence back in the void. So he replied with mental words of his own, "I…see. Thank you, Miss Witness."

"Then, can you please invite the observers with these traces?"

She nodded before her material body evaporated into thin air, particle by particle. He saw her dissolve into nothingness, but she was clearly still listening to him.

When he turned around and faced the empty, majestic hall, his heart began pounding, and he closed his eyes, resting a hand on his chest.

The stage was ready.

The Actor was prepared.

The Audience was decided.

All that remained was the performance.

Retrieving his mask from the coat's pocket, he donned it on his face as a cycle of destruction and restoration started anew, tearing and patching up the material in enigmatic ways.

He stood all alone at the peak of the Nexus as he pulled on the leather gloves and fixed his long coat. With a deep breath, he opened his eyes, and an enigmatic glow shone through the slits of the mask.

Bowing to an audience that had yet to arrive, with his hands outstretched, he announced…

"Let the show begin."