Chapter 49 - Company

"Ambrose Finnesse, at your service."

Cera started clapping, and Vern felt pressured to do the same. What the hell was this situation? Just a few minutes ago, they were about to be crushed and trampled to death—now they were here, clapping like he was really a performer.

CLAP CLAP CLAP

He gave up and clapped a few times. The man deserved his thanks, and if he didn't follow her, he'd come off as rude.

Ambrose's smile became wider as he basked in the glory, but soon, his face started to turn red, and he said, "Ah, I usually don't get feedback for my performances. Thank you for that. Gave me some new insights."

But when he said the last sentence, he did a double take and turned to the statue's remains, looking at it in a fluster as he mumbled, "My apologies are in order. Such topics should not dance upon my lips in the company of those whose eyes have yet to open."

However, before either of them could respond, he stopped doing whatever he was doing and said, "Ah, no. Your eyes do perceive, so there is no need for a guarded tongue. Might I inquire if both of you share the vocation of Observers?"

Vern let his hands come to a stop, and so did Cera as she responded, "I am not one. Yet. But please don't worry, I am actively seeking ways to enlighten myself, so please speak your mind."

Vern skipped over the latter half of the discourse and continued an earlier thread, "Nice to meet you, Ambrose. My name's Vern, a Fundamentalist, and an Observer. Thank you very much for coming to our aid."

"Oh, ah, hello. I am Cera. I—I am currently working for Von Industries. Thank you as well."

Ambrose continued picking one thing after another from the metallic rubble, facing away from both of them. Then he said, "Von industries, you mention? Did you come here at their behest?"

Cera shook her head, "Not exactly. But they did indeed point this as one of the places I can go to seek enlightenment."

Vern wasn't sure if telling this guy everything was a good idea, but it wouldn't be too far-fetched to say that he had their lives in his hands. Neither of them could go against the prowess he had just displayed. Since he was being nice, reciprocating might be the right course of action.

But Vern had a burning question that he believed was worth interrupting their idle conversation. So he pushed himself off the ground with his palms and stood up with the support of the pillar before speaking, "I am grateful to you and would love to chat more, but I am not sure if this is the place to do that. There might be other—things in here that might be turning…sentient, as we speak."

Ambrose turned to look at him, his silky hairs swaying with the motion, but Vern continued, "I would rather not have to force you to fight another battle for us. Fights like the one just now are more than what we bargained for. So, should we get out of here first?"

Ambrose sighed, "We can't."

His heart plummeted like a stone in his chest. It looked like there were more complications.

"Can you please elaborate?" he asked apprehensively.

Playing with the handle of his cane, he responded, "We can't go out of this building. That is why our exploration teams were waiting for more reconnaissance and divination to be completed. This is why I cautioned against your entrance and hesitated to step in myself."

A perplexed look appeared on both Vern and Cera's faces, and she ended up asking what was on her mind, "But didn't you just come in from the doors? Why can't we go out?"

Ambrose's face turned sadder after every question, "Because the station won't let us. Our scouting instruments ventured within these walls but never returned, and our attempts at divination have yet to yield a solution."

It looked like Ambrose preferred speaking in roundabout ways, skirting around the point. Paired with that archaic dialect, it made it hard for Vern to understand him.

Maybe noticing their still confused expressions, he stood up and looked around for a while before heading into one of the rooms connected to the hall.

Vern and Cera followed him and were greeted by a room adorned with golden vases, a red carpet, and most of the furniture needed to seat nobles.

His head still throbbed with lingering pain, but he removed the umbrella from his pocket and readied himself in case these articles came to life.

And he was right on the money. The filing cabinets began to shake and clatter around him, and Vern backed out of the room without hesitation.

TAP

Ambrose tapped his cane, and Vern saw glowing eyes reflected in the tall dressing mirrors on one side of the room.

In but a moment, the chairs that had begun to hobble, books that were opening by themselves, and cabinets that were shaking settled down, completely turning quiet.

It was as if all that noise was nothing but an illusion.

Once there was pin drop silence, he pointed at the window, which offered a glimpse of the world outside through its narrow frame—the sky, fence, and other buildings out in the distance. "Now look at this."

Tucking the cane under his armpit, he grabbed the window handles with both hands and tugged hard. But it wouldn't budge.

The screws holding the handles began to give way, and were soon launched back in recoil—detaching from the window's frame.

He looked at both of them, showing them the handles as if to say this should have explained everything.

Cera opened her mouth to say something but closed it. After Ambrose stood there, looking at both of them as if they were dumb, she finally asked, "Are you saying that windows won't open so we can't go out?"

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He shook his head and dropped the handles. "No, I am showing that the station is actively resisting any such actions." Taking the cane in his hands yet again, he thrust it into the window pane.

CRACK

Fragments of broken glass fell all around Ambrose, and he dodged the ones that went straight for him with a smooth backstep.

But Vern wasn't even looking at the fragments.

What!?

The wall had expanded.

Yes. Expanded

The moment the cane was about to cross outside, past the window's borders, the wall expanded. It stretched and bent into a spiral from the seams, filling the hole made by the lack of a window.

The window frame was crushed and meshed into an unnatural shape as it was pulled into the section that filled the gap.

"This? Is this what would happen if we try to go outside?" said Cera as she looked at the grotesque-looking patch with an apprehensive gaze.

Ambrose dipped his chin in a solemn acknowledgment, and Vern finally understood. Any openings in the building, be that windows or doors or ventilations, will be patched up by this mass to stop them from exiting.

This was bad.

It was supposed to be a simple exploration of the relay station, but this had become way out of their league. At least there was a silver lining in this dark cloud—Ambrose had followed them in here, or no one would've even found their corpses.

Vern shook his head.

There was no point in moping about what had already happened. He had to figure out his next step—whether it be finding ways to get out of here or exploring further.

He understood that solutions came from knowledge and understanding. Trying to solve a problem without comprehending the underlying variables was akin to shooting an arrow in the dark.

If sitting here meant starving, he would instead explore everything and figure out the source of the problem. Obviously, that would come after he got an opinion from his betters.

"So what do you think should be our plan moving forward?" asked Vern with a severe gaze.

Ambrose looked left and right before pointing at himself, "I—um, might we—eh, venture to seek hidden clues, perhaps?"

Tapping his cane on the floor, he quickly walked past them and exited the room, kneeling next to the rubble again. "I typically abstain from exploratory missions, you see? My presence is more aligned with the hunts—even there, I'm seldom the conductor."

That was a little unfortunate. But then again, it didn't matter. He would just have to figure out the next step by himself.

"I see. Then would you mind answering some of my questions?"

"I suppose."

"Just for confirmation, you do not have any ideas on how we could leave the building, right?"

Ambrose shook his head.

"Then how did your, uh, team manage to figure this out? Is maybe someone else from your team stuck in here with us?"

"Oh, that? No. No one else is ensnared in here. Selena dispatched a paper avian within these confines a few days ago. Not being able to retrieve it cost her dearly in terms of representation. She still mourns the lost synergy with her month-old creation."

Ahh, so that was their scouting method? That sentence had many peculiarities, but he didn't want to ask unrelated questions right now.

"So, did you have any plans before coming here that could help you get out?"

"I—uh, informed captain before I left to follow you two."

"And?"

"He might realize something's wrong if I don't check in tonight and get us some reinforcements." Then his voice almost became too low for Vern to hear, "But I don't know if even they could do something about this station."

Well. That's better than worst case, I guess.

Vern reoriented his thoughts and asked the more substantial question, "Then do you know what is happening here? Also, how did you…um, suppress those articles in the room that were about to go out of control—becoming…sentient?"

"Ahh, are you unfamiliar with pollution suppression? Oh right. I should have inquired sooner. What faction do you hail from? Von Industries, was it? I am surprised you managed to paralyze this thing. It simplified the encounter considerably. Usually, only a team could take on something like that unless you specialize."

Pollution suppression? Is he calling the sentience pollution? That made no sense. But other than that, it felt nice to be praised by a professional.

Vern shook his head with a bitter smile, "Indeed, I have no clue about pollution or suppression, and I am not affiliated with any faction. Though I was contacted by one of your colleagues when I was roaming the city streets with an offer to join."

Vern put his hand in the inner pocket of his coat, fetched the silver badge shaped like an eye, and hung it by the chain for all to see.

Ambrose looked at it for a good five seconds before exclaiming, "Oh? Who gave you that?"

"It was a swordsman wearing, uh, shabby clothes. He looked like a foreigner, too."

"Ah, your words evoke the essence of Captain Shinsei from the Third Combat Squad in the inner districts. Might this suggest you're an Observer of the new generation? He reserves his ensemble for fledgling talents yet to be shaped by traditions of the past."

"New generation?"

They looked at each other, baffled, and even Cera perked up when this point came up.

Vern's mind churned as hundreds of possibilities crossed his mind, but before he could put a finger on them, Ambrose asked him, "How long has it been since you became an Observer?"

Vern, who was speaking his mind during the conversation, suddenly halted. This was an important question. He couldn't answer this one truthfully, or he would have to hide things or contradict himself in the future.

After Cera asked him many questions about his enlightenment, he had already made up a story. So, keeping in line with that, he answered, "It's been about two weeks." Before Ambrose could ask him further questions, he took the initiative to add more details.

"As I told you, I am a Fundamentalist. I have always been fascinated by the workings of the world. When I heard rumors that a facet of reality had been hidden from me since forever, I did all I could to get my hands on an Observation Record. Alas, I only managed to get my hands on one for a very brief amount of time."

Ambrose nodded. "That confirms your status as a new-generation Observer. The world swirled in chaos the month before the Duskfall, with many sensing its impending arrival. You stumbling upon the subjective World wasn't a mere happenstance."

Using his cane to get back up, Ambrose continued, "Well, I guess it's a luxury to only have to wait a week or so before you could Observe to your heart's content."

Vern tilted his head at this statement, and Ambrose followed suit.

"Ah, haven't you perceived the newfound ease in wielding Visions post-Duskfall? We can practically use our Visions anywhere nowadays. I shan't miss honing my skills in forsaken chapels in some underground ruin, all by myself."

Then suddenly, his hand clutched the handle with a white-knuckled grip, every muscle taut and veins bulging as if he were trying to crush it in his grasp. "Yet, I'd rather not have this sight at all if it meant going back. Back to the world with breath of life."

Vern was surprised. But it made sense. If Observation had always been this potent, then there was no way the society would have managed to remain so peaceful. Not letting the shock creep up into his expression, he cobbled up an excuse, "Oh, that? I thought I was bad at using Visions because I am not talented. Glad to hear I am not as slow as I thought."

But then Cera also chimed in, "Then Mr. Ambrose, how did Observers enlighten themselves in the earlier times?"

Losing all the tension out of nowhere, he replied, "Ah, your words age me prematurely, Miss. I'm merely reaching the twenty-fifth year of my long-term performance. As for the techniques of my lineage, I must plead discretion—the knowledge is closely guarded. Each method loosens the shackles of Subjectivity to a certain extent, and thus, factions and families shield such insights with the utmost secrecy."

"I—I see. I didn't know that. I had no intention of prying. Sorry for bothering you," said Cera in a fluster.

"Please don't worry about it. It's usually a matter of Observing something innately subjective. Some factions have places that facilitate it, while others have objects that do so. They were usually guarded with more care than generational heirlooms. However, now that the world has changed, I'd say your leaders at Von Industries have the right idea. There might indeed be an opportunity in this station."

While examining a small fragment of the statue very closely, he replied, "But we need to get out of here first for it to matter."

Vern picked up this thread and circled back to his earlier question, "Now that we have a better understanding of each other's knowledge, can you please shed some light on the specifics of this station? I would like to weigh our options."