Chapter 4 - Inexistence

On the still somewhat bright moon's perimeter, appeared tendrils of dark that grew at a breakneck pace, like a crack through the celestial body itself. More such tendrils materialized, blanketing the glow behind them in waves of darkness.

Simultaneously, something just as bizarre was going on with the rest of the sky. Starting from the bridge in the east, the glow of twinkling stars faded in an absurd transition towards the west over by the clocktower. It was as if a curtain was draped over the very atmosphere itself.

In this nonsensical situation, a blaring siren screamed from the clocktower. The Kingsmen all around halted in their tracks, and took out something from their pockets before crushing it in their palms.

Steam rose all around them as they knelt on one knee and closed their eyes. The steam didn't touch a single hair on their head, yet incessantly streamed out of their fists, scalding anything that got too close.

With everything happening all at once, the chaos on the streets grew destructive as people began running into buildings around them. The stampede didn't last for long as the streets cleared out in no time, left with only victims of the mass or the kneeling ones completely unharmed.

Vern himself didn't know what to make of this situation, but he realized something was going very wrong, and things started to click in his mind. Why he received the letter today, and why the urgency. Even with these questions answered, many still lingered, but now wasn't the time for hesitation.

He retrieved the book from his pocket and flipped open to the exact page. The plexus of twisting lines began to churn and morph into curves that transitioned into words in no time. The light in his peripheral vision got dimmer and dimmer before nothing remained. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the low purple light. They didn't.

The unusually bright purple glow of the lamp on his table eluded his sight, and all that remained was an inky abyss. It was as if he had been swallowed by a starless night devoid of even the faintest glimmer of light, which might as well be what was happening. There was no distinction between open and closed eyes. Uniform darkness consumed him no matter what.

"Brother! I—It's dark. It's, it's not coming back. Brother, I can't see. V, it's not…."

Mirroring her earlier actions, Vern grabbed hold of her hand and rubbed them gently. "It's okay, Ari. Breathe. I can't see either, and it's probably not just us hearing how everyone around is panicking. Just take deep breaths and calm down."

Worse than before, the crowd up here was getting crazier by the second. It was clear from the noise that many were fumbling around frantically in their newfound darkness, only adding to the chaos.

He didn't know what to feel about this sudden change. If only he had accepted the enlightenment earlier, he'd have much more options to deal with this situation. However, it wasn't his style to mope around and regret his mistakes in the heat of the moment. There would be time for reflection later, now was the time to analyze the current situation and plan his course of action.

"W—what should we do, Vern? This—this—is this really it?"

"Ari, there's no point in trying to answer that question. If we die in this, there's really not much we can do, but I doubt this is the end." His stalkers already knew about this happening as mentioned in the letter. So why would they go to the whole trouble of surveilling him and giving him a chance at enlightenment if the planet was going to be some cosmic debris by the end of the day? It wasn't the most convincing argument, but it was logical.

"Whatever's going on seems more ephemeral and less physical. Especially the lack of eyesight is peculiar. I can still smell the scent emanating from the lamp. So the cyclical condensation hasn't stopped, and it's still generating light."

"So, what exactly should we do?"

"I am trying something, but like I said, what can we do? Running around blind with this mob is one quick way to get injured and lose our way. We know exactly where we are, and I remember the way out. We can try and leave once things get a little calmer."

All Vern heard were Ariane's hum of confirmation mixed with quick rapid breaths and his own thumping heart as he zoned out the surroundings. I made the right decision of not enlightening myself in hindsight, but I didn't expect—this. Whatever this situation is.

Is it still possible to comprehend the diagram?

Vern glided his free hand over the coarse page looking for changes, something, anything. In another pass, he grazed it and, in the next one, pressed hard onto it. Sensing nothing at all, he closed in and put his left ear on the paper, only to feel its coarse warmth. Yeah, this isn't working.

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Not discouraged, Vern moved on to the mental version of the diagram he had. It wouldn't be as dynamic as the real thing, but Introspection was better than nothing. But that's when it hit him. A sense of incongruity gave him a pause, and he replayed what he felt just a few seconds ago. No. That can't be.

His hand left the book unattended and moved toward the center of the table. It was actually happening. His hands touched a warm metallic surface with intricate grooves, and he thrust his hand upwards along the surface—it jolted back reflexively. Fuck!

"Ari, we need to leave. Now!" He whispered, and his linked hand tugged upwards before he even finished his sentence.

"What—what happened? You just said it was better to wait."

"This place will soon go up in flames. We need to get out of here," he whispered again as he moved towards what he considered to be the direction back to the reading room, pulling Ariane's hand with him.

"Fire in a coven's library? How could that be? Is it— is it, related to this whole thing? What exactly are you talking about?" She didn't resist, even amidst her complaints.

"It burnt with heat! That lamp back at the table was burning with heat. Did you notice the cold slipping away as we sat by the table? If this is happening to all these lights, what happens to the big hearth blazing inside?"

He did have a conjecture about what was going on. The rules related to Inine, the chemical fueling these lamps, or the very light itself were changed to generate heat.

"By my lady! How could this be?" She gasped, horror apparent in her voice. "V, we should let everyone know right now!"

"Ari, wait, no. Don't do it! The moment we do that, the mob will rush us, and we will completely lose our sense of direction and probably even get trampled underneath their feet."

Vern felt a jerk on his hand, forced to stop as Ariane refused to budge.

"V, no! You're pretty much condemning everyone here to death."

"Ari, please. We don't have time for moral debates right now."

She didn't reply. Mere seconds of silence in this raucous environment felt like it stretched for half an eternity. He didn't see any way to ensure their safety, with the whole crowd of these delirious scholars panicking even harder to scramble out of here.

"Ari, we're running out of time. I don't mind dying to an inevitable apocalypse, but sacrificing ourselves for the greater good is just not how I plan to go out."

"Vern, this isn't right. I really don't want to go against you right after we finally caught up in so long. But could you please just go ahead by yourself? I'll catch up."

"Ari, this isn't a game! Don't do this right now, please. I'll explain later, and you can blame me if you want. We are losing precious time by doing this."

"You don't know for sure that your scenario will play out. Since we are the ones that warned them about the fire, we could also take control of the situation and lead everyone out of the building more harmoniously. It will be better than going by ourselves, and we can continue to stick together if something else comes up after this."

She had yet to start shouting and attracting attention, so there was still a chance for persuasion. "Ari, it's not that simple when no one can see each other, and I've heard some of these people, they are too paranoid. The second you say anything about a fire, they will go crazy. Neither of us has the charisma to pull it off so quickly without a big risk."

"…"

"Let's take a step back and find a realistic balance, okay? We shout and let everyone know once we are downstairs. Now please, let's just go!"

Not giving her a chance to deny, he rushed her forward and didn't encounter much resistance. He walked a few paces and slowly waved his hand around to feel for the door's casing. Inching forward bit by bit, his hand struck a wooden construct, and he grabbed hold of it, propelling himself forward.

"If I remember correctly, there should be a bookshelf right ahead of us, and then from its opposite end, if we skip two cabinets towards the right, we should end up next to a staircase."

"Mhm."

Sounds of tumbling and cries of agony echoed all around him, drowned by the piercing boom of the siren. Focusing on isolating the sounds in close vicinity, he trudged forward cautiously, hand-in-hand, sweeping away the crunching glass and books beneath on the floor out of the way with his legs. Someone had already toppled over shelves and decorations.

His mental image of the library was still quite vivid, and it wasn't too hard to navigate, but this whole situation didn't look too good. He wasn't panicking like those outside, but whatever was happening was just too detached from reality. One step at a time.

Slowly walking atop what seemed like a fallen shelf, he measured the height of his every step before committing. He made slow progress and finally got off the heightened shelf in a stable step. "Watch your step for height. We will turn here, and then—"

The annoying siren faded into silence as any and all sounds he'd been relying on stopped registering. The subtle hum of life, the taps of his shoes, the chaotic chatter, and the frantic cadence of his own breathing all slipped into an eerie hush. His ears, straining for the ghost of a sound, were met with nothing but the unsettling quietude.

Everything felt muted. The feedback of his legs touching the environment was dampened, and his whole body felt light, almost as if underwater.

Ariane's hand was also just barely perceptible from the little heat he felt in his hands. But now wasn't the time to stop. The fire wouldn't care if they couldn't hear or feel.

He had this little conjecture, which predicted survival if they managed to keep their physical bodies safe for the time being. His idea was that any changes to the rules weren't permanent. That something had to give, and there were limitations to these bizarre happenings around and within him. So, not dying by fire and waiting out these sensory disruptions could very well be the key to persevering in this nightmare.

Tightening his grip further, which gave him little feedback, he started moving again slowly but firmly within this solitary confinement of senses. But it wasn't going according to the plans.

It felt like he was hammered, and what he assumed were firm steps didn't give him the reaction he expected, and hence came the fall. Or not? He didn't know. Everything was getting dull by the second.

Then before he could make another attempt, an unsettling calm pervaded this sensory void, leaving him with nothing but the haunting echo of his own thoughts.