Illeana recovered from the final curtsy as her heart still thumped loudly from all the excitement. Sadly, all good things came to an end.
At least until the next time, she whispered to herself.
Before long, her vision began fading into a blue haze, and all the way till the last moment, she kept her eyes locked on the enigmatic being that was Mr. Axiom.
His every movement embodied something special, and she didn't want to miss even a second of it. However, right when her sight of the Nexus was about to blur into nothingness, she noticed something unimaginable.
Mr. Axiom’s hand moved towards his face, and in a single motion, he pulled off the mask.
“Wait, no!” She screamed, only to realize she was beyond the point of speaking. The pull tugged at her very being, whisking her away. No…no! Not yet. Just one more second! She begged.
Mr. Axiom was taking off their mask! Just another breath, and she could see it. His actual face!
Yet, life was cruel. In the very instant when their hallowed face would’ve been revealed to her, she lost all her senses—leaving nothing but a haunting regret in her chest.
Just what is he like under that mask?
She’d always wondered that. Was the manifestation of the Axioms of Observation a human as well? It sounded impossible until one factored in the power of collective imagination. Yet, who was to say such simple logic would apply to beings on the level of Mr. Axiom?
Before long, she shook her head and clicked the dial of Father’s pocket watch as the green haze surrounding her receded into the trinket with a whirl.
Hand on her chest, she felt her heart still beating rapidly, one part regretting the failure at the end and nine parts excited about what she’d accomplished today.
“I’m sorry, Father…” she spoke to the stale air of this musty basement. He didn’t like the idea of believing in powers higher than oneself. Not even in him. He always pushed her to be self-reliant, but here she was, getting all worked up over impressing one such being.
Opening the few pages she had on her person, she confirmed that the words she’d penned down hadn’t disappeared and sighed after coming back. It really wasn’t a dream...
That was a relief.
There was a lot more on her mind, like the answer she’d received about the condition of the First Observer and what that implied about the condition of Father.
Alas, she wasn’t in a safe space to allow her emotions to flow too freely. The thought instantly caused her jubilant demeanor to crack as she patted down her dress and ensured nothing seemed off.
Unlocking the door behind her, she climbed back up, only to see the owner of the house hugging a photo frame, his tears all but fully dried off.
When she came up, the man turned his gaze towards her, and she felt it. Something was different about him.
“…thank…thank you…” he whispered before bursting into silent sobs that rocked his body.
Acceptance, she murmured. That was one of the most important stages of grief. It seemed this man had finally come to terms with all the losses he'd faced recently.
Nodding to him, she kept her lips sealed and walked out. She’d been in one place for long enough. And now she had better things to do than mindlessly rush for the next location to hide from the prying eyes of the crown.
To understand. This was the path Mr. Axiom had introduced her to, and she wasn’t going to let it slip past her hands because of any simple notions of laziness.
She wanted power. She needed it. And now that she had a new direction—a greater direction, she had no plans of squandering it.
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Kaneki forced open his eyes as a sudden pang of pleasure coursed through him.
What the… he wondered before his sight opened up to a room’s ceiling covered with myriad symbols, patterns, and lines—lines that carried the current of electricity.
“He’s awake…” came a hypnotic voice from his right, and he couldn’t help but jolt back up.
”Wh—where…” am I, he wanted to ask, but the latter part of the sentence died on his lips because he realized it himself. “Matriarch’s healing altar,” he whispered.
“Indeed, child,” responded that same magnetic voice as he turned to see the scantly dressed Shaman Reya—the right-hand woman of Matriarch herself.
She was a tall woman of wheat skin, her long silky hair pulled back and knotted into a braid that went past her waist. She was considered one of the most beautiful, if not the greatest, in Zenith.
Yet, Kaneki’s goosebumps rose on end as her long fingers removed the wires connected to his body. There were far too many rumors floating about her in the city.
Some believed she devoured the potential ascenders, whereas others said she forced whomever she liked into the mating ritual. Worse, there was also word on the streets that she was actually a shapeshifter from beyond the edge—a being who climbed out of the pits.
It was all terrifying.
No. I…I shouldn’t think like that! I can handle it! He recalled his experiences in Mr. Axiom’s court of balance and how he’d become a chosen one of a literal god.
Yes! So what if she’s a demon from the pits down the edge? I’m also Fulminis, someone recognized by a god itself! His back straightened, and his eyes turned sharp as a surge of confidence washed over him.
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Thwack! A dull slap on his back broke his posture almost instantly, and she chuckled, “Alright, kid. Get off. There’s more people in line who need electric healing.”
“Ah, um, yes. Thank you, Mistress Reya!” He shouted instinctively as he rushed off the altar, all his bravado fizzling away instantly.
Um, I don’t think I need to show my true power in front of her yet, he reasoned, stealing a glance at her. I should keep it as an ace in my sleeve. It had nothing to do with the fact that she’d just treated him like some snotty kid. Really.
He followed the winding corridor of this temple until he found an exit where the high ceiling of Zenith was visible in full view.
Outside stood a couple of people he knew and saw every day. One of them hollered him over and asked, “Did she…sacrifice a newborn to save you, Ken?” Asked the uncle with a hint of terror as he patted him down. “When you lost consciousness during the ceremony, everyone thought you were a goner.”
“Hah. Here I thought our block’s rations finally won’t have to go to a talentless mutt like you anymore,” chimed his mate as she looked down on Kaneki with a disgusted look. “Hmph, if you can’t go up to serve the gods, just jump in the pits and stop wasting space.”
Kaneki opened his mouth to say something, but his lips failed him yet again. Those words hurt. They shouldn’t, given he could ascend to ‘serve the gods’ whenever he wanted, but they still did.
The reason was simple. She was right. He was indeed talentless. Even after guidance from the Lorendales, who were supposed to be these great people in the outer world, he hadn’t managed to make much progress. The only reason he’d ‘enlightened’ himself to become an Observer was his luck.
Luck to run into the old parchment.
Kaneki looked at the ground and remained silent as the uncle tried to console how his mate was just joking. Fortunately or unfortunately, he could see past the facade. The man clearly believed the same things as his mate. He just didn’t like being vocal about it.
After all, Matriarch hated discrimination.
Thanking them for being worried, Kaneki turned and left. The farther he walked, the sharper his eyes turned. He hated it. Being talentless. Being a failure even after having the greatest encounters just served him on a silver platter.
Pulling up the hood, he dipped his head and mixed into the crowd, letting the whims of the city drive him in any direction.
He wandered the obsidian jungle that was Zenith as the glowing lights fixed onto the angular architecture adorned with hundreds if not thousands of wires wiped away the depressing thoughts that typically cluttered his mind.
It’s different, he murmured to himself, a defiant expression hiding in the shadows of his hood. He wasn’t spoon-fed a solution this time. Lord Axiom had given him a fishing rod and some directions on how to fish.
I’ll make it different! He hissed. Too many opportunities were already squandered because of his naivete, and he didn’t want to wait until Mr. Axiom realized he was just a lucky bastard with no skill to his name.
NO! This is my chance! One chance at actually escaping the hell of mediocrity that he’d been wallowing in throughout his life.
Standing in the central square where the pillar to heaven had descended not too long ago, he reached out his hand towards the ceiling and muttered, “I’ll ascend…at my own terms.”
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Vern took a sip of the warm tea before setting the cup down on the platter as he listened to Beaumont speak.
“Indeed, Master Vern. Those tenants are apparently recovering well. The asylum’s representative told us it was a miracle they are getting better already.”
Vern rolled the cane in his lap instinctively as he followed up, “So do we know just what happened to them?”
Beaumont shook his head as he re-racked another glass after wiping it clean, “Strange times, master Vern, strange times. We all need to be extra careful. Something ominous is in the wind.”
“Something ominous, huh…” he trailed off.
The hotel had been in quite a turmoil the day after the invasion while he was out cleansing pollution in the city. Luckily, the worst of it was over already.
A couple of tenants had left after the incident, even though they only remembered a watered-down version of it, and he didn’t blame them. They may not be able to sense exactly what went wrong with their memories, but the signs were indeed ominous.
Well, only if they knew. This was probably one of the safest places to be in since after that incident because of Captain Akira's focus.
Not my problem anymore. He shrugged. He could do little for the victims or the rest he’d saved without implicating himself further. His whole focus had now shifted over to advancing to the second shade.
It’d been two days since he adjourned the Court of Balance. Two days of pouring all his free time into better understanding and theorizing just how to adapt the concept of Arbitration into Balance.
Knock, knock… the abrupt sound instantly broke his concentration, and he looked back up, only to see a short, pudgy man wearing the cap of a postman dragging a heavy sack with him. The man had rapped on the table next to him to get his attention.
“Are you Mr. Vern? Vern Lockwood?”
He looked up and nodded without hesitation, setting aside his cup of tea.
“I have a package for you,” he spoke with one finger in his ear as he shoved the big sack towards him before pulling out an envelope and ledger from some pocket.
“Sign this…” he added, shoving the ledger and a pen in his face.
Vern incredulously picked up the envelope, and it all instantly clicked when he read the name of the sender. ‘From: Ruth Herbert…’
“One second,” he murmured to the postman as he took a deep breath, doing his best not to sigh it all out. Steeling his nerves, he reached into the sack and unfastened the string at its top.
His eyes fell on the demon at the top whose title read, ‘The Factory of Romance.’
Vern’s hand moved faster than the speed of light as he sealed the foul evil right back in, tightening the string to the point it choked the sack.
I can’t be seen with these things!
His mind whirled, and he feigned nonchalance as he grabbed the postman’s ledger and quickly signed it. “Do I need to pay?” He asked.
The postman drilled the pinky in his ear harder before spitting, “Nah, it’s all paid up. Good day.” Then, without a care in the world, he turned around and left the hotel.
When the guy was completely out of his sight, Vern wiped the cold sweat off his forehead. I don’t wanna imagine what would’ve happened if he’d delivered this post when I wasn’t here.
What if Beaumont or anyone else checked the sack for security purposes?
His life as a respectable gentleman would’ve ended right then and there.
Bidding his farewell to the butler, who was curiously glancing at the sack, Vern hauled it back to his room.
He was scared of running into the usual trio on the second floor, but luck was in his favor, so he managed to slip by unbothered.
Closing the door behind him, he reasoned, I asked Herbert to send this straight to Cedric’s address. Why the hell did he send them to me!?
Rip, cried the paper envelope as Vern read the attached letter.
“…I didn’t expect you, of all people, to be interested in such…advanced literature, Mr. Savant. Is this the secret of your immense focus…”
Vern had to do his very best not to crumple the letter. Is it too late to pretend that I never asked for these books from this goblin!?
He read a bit further, “…You thought I wouldn’t understand the needs of a dear friend if you simply made an excuse that you need these books for someone else? What do you take me for…”
He silently folded the letter back and decided Cedric wasn’t going to get off lightly this time. The Things I have to do.
Hiding this sack of sin inside a cupboard until he could determine a safe way to get them to Cedric, he decided to pen a quick response to Herbert before heading out.
Selena’s paper avian had already given him some menial tasks to finish, and after that, he had places to be.
Like Von Industries.