Chapter 81 - Ferrovane Heights

Vern looked out at the bustle as the tram zoomed past one neighborhood after another up a winding path. Its interior was nothing to write home about, but it was the mechanical art at the work that mattered.

Just from the sound and smoke of the engine, he could tell it was state-of-the-art. The previous generation ones—the same ones used in trains, didn't use a purifier and ran on coal. This one was definitely running on a steam core.

But he didn't have the mind to appreciate the beauty of his ride like usual. All he wanted was for his Representation to regenerate as soon as possible. He didn't realize it, but he had spent around eighty percent of it in the short time he had stared at those lists.

He would have loved to find out more about them right away because the possibilities excited him to no end, but he had a long day ahead of him. He wouldn't want to go into this special occasion, already drained and out of juice. First impressions mattered a lot, after all.

Not like the convergence note was going anywhere. And since he didn't need anyone else to help him research it, he could always figure out its nuances at a more opportune time.

So, he continued to scrutinize the structure of everything that passed by the windows. He had realized that the fastest way to regenerate his Representation was to do just that.

It seemed counter-intuitive that one had to think harder to generate usable thoughts, but it also had sound logic. How Representation worked used to be an enigma before he had a Thought Space.

But now? He could clearly gauge the amount he had left and plan his expenditure around it. All he had to do was look at the intensity of those lights within his Thought Space. Though it would probably make more sense to call them Insights.

So, all he had to make those insights bloom brighter was to analyze structures. He had been doing this within his own room for a while now but had begun to see diminishing returns in the rate at which it recharged his representation.

Right now, however, the dark sphere within his mind's eye was rapidly reclaiming its glow. It was very curious. So much so that he had devised a couple of mathematical equations to try to quantify the amount.

But it seems they need to be further modified now, he thought as another new Insight blossomed within his Thought space. This was the tenth time it had happened in the past half an hour he had spent on the tram.

It started with that fleeting feeling of having figured out something new that he couldn't put his finger on. But unlike the dreadful past where such insights were lost in the next moment, his Thought Space immortalized it.

His smile grew wider every time the islands within his mental Insight Sphere extended farther. He barely managed to keep himself from forgoing today's primary task and just traveling around in the tram all day.

The feeling of his capabilities growing further simply by virtue of gaining deeper insight into a topic thrilled him to no end.

He looked with sharp focus at that grand cathedral in the distance, its arches, and its bows, or that forge by the next tram station. Those underpass sections of the tramway or the flyovers made the residences look small. All of them hid something new for him to glean.

The crowded market that had more shops than he'd ever seen in one place or that thousand-step staircase that led all the way up to the mountaintop. It was all…mesmerizing.

Except that it was probably not the most efficient method to go about progressing his Viewpoint.

At the current rate, he'd have to spend months or even years looking at these buildings before he could fill in an octant within his Thought Space. And who was to say there won't be diminishing returns?

So, after a couple more stations passed by, he calmed himself down and reoriented himself.

One station after another, the tram crossed multiple kinds of sections of the district. Heck, he felt awkward calling it a district. This 'district' was larger than many cities he'd been to.

At one odd station, a rush of people entered the same car as him and occupied every seat of this somewhat empty tram.

A little distracted eavesdropping told him some priest was giving a sermon, and this whole party was going there to worship. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth.

Still, he understood the need for religion. Especially in times like these. People wanted to believe that they mattered. That there was something above, watching their actions and caring about them.

Hahh

The only thing watching them were beings that probably considered them less than ants. The only god that existed was that of make-believe. A symbol. It'd be fine if all they did was believe in a collective symbol.

But these people expected this symbol to care for them.

"Tch."

He shook his head and focused back on the scenery outside. He needed the progress this scenery allowed him. Only then. Only then could he create the balance. Something higher than a symbol.

In another few minutes, the conductor shouted, "Hillside Park."

Vern squeezed past the believers and exited the tram. He paid when he got on, so he wasn't committing the second illegal act of the day.

White and purified smoke from the tram cleared up, and he walked up to the little map painted on a signboard. He had to get to the former Imperial Palace. He had never been to the place, the very reason he left almost an hour before he should have to.

He didn't know if and how big of an organization Vigil was, but he was in safe hands if their location was anything to go by. Not just any random nobody could establish themselves in the previous Empress' palace.

So that was reassuring. Obviously, someone as powerful as Shinsei wasn't joking around, but Vern didn't know. He had only met three people from the organization in person.

Shinsei had taken him to one of their 'hideouts' in the Athenaeum district to test his 'blessing,' but he only saw a couple of hooded faces there, so there was not much to judge them.

He now understood that blessing, which Shinsei talked about, was a very loose term that included a viewpoint's moral and physical ramifications. If someone had a pollution quotient higher than a certain threshold, they would have to explain and have their viewpoint thoroughly tested before being allowed to join.

That was because there were only two reasons for a Viewpoint to have a high pollution quotient. One was that the Observer had chosen a very illogical viewpoint and somehow managed to achieve enlightenment with it. So, each Vision they performed was 'inefficient' and caused unintended side effects.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Then, the other one were the viewpoints that had an evil tendency right from the start. They were the kind that didn't care or bother about the internal consistency of their logic and just imposed their will on reality.

In hindsight, it sounded like the Visions they could create around such a Viewpoint would be very potent, but a closer look revealed an obvious limitation. The more inefficient one's viewpoint was, the more Representation it cost them to envision even simple things.

Vern could safely say this was the most interesting tidbit about Observation he had learned so far that didn't come from his own testing. Shinsei had told all this very easily, and Vern remembered feeling like a fool.

And there's more of that up there!

Butler De Flanc had praised their library so much that Vern was more than pumped. It held so many answers that he couldn't wait to get in on.

So he quickly figured out the route to one of those elevators he'd seen from the bridge. It was not even five minutes away.

He checked his pocket watch, and it read half-past eleven. He had to be there by One. That was more than enough time.

He sauntered in the beautiful weather, feeling rather refreshed. His balance of the wins for the day quite outweighed the setbacks.

Life wasn't perfect after Duskfall, but there was clearly a lot to be happy about.

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CLICK

CRRRRANK

He leaned on the railing and looked beyond the glass window of the metallic capsule as it began to slow down its rapid ascent. Surely, they didn't want their customers going up so fast they'd have their guts turned upside down.

But damn, was this commute getting expensive. He had already spent more than fifty crowns just to get here, more than half of it on this elevator alone.

Can I lodge this as a business expense? he chuckled at the thought.

It was worth it, though. Just looking at the mechanism of this elevator working had added a couple insights into his Thought Space, much less the view of the city itself. And it was…fun. He hadn't been on a ride like this since…

Since mom, dad, and Ari were around.

"Please mind the gap when exiting. Especially if you're wearing heels," shouted the handler on the platform as he escorted people out safely.

Vern made his own exit and asked the old man, "Excuse me, but which direction is the Former Imperial Palace?"

The man looked Vern up and down before nodding, "You're the tenth person who has asked that question today. Mind if I ask what's going on?"

"You don't know?"

That wasn't Vern. Someone else had answered that question with a question.

Vern glanced back and noticed a handsome man with a middling fashion sense walking up to both of them, his long blonde hair moving to and fro. He was probably in the elevator with Vern.

The old man took it in stride and shook his head, "Not a clue. They won't talk."

The blonde-haired guy asked back in kind, "And what makes you think we will?"

The handler took off his beret and began dusting it as he replied, "That both of you don't have your nose pointing up to the sun like those stinking nobles."

Vern looked around and sighed. Luckily, the rest of the group from the elevator had cleared up, or this was sure to become a problem real quick. Nobles wouldn't take that lying down. However, Vern wasn't the best judge of the customs of this city. Maybe commoners were not as oppressed as other places?

At this remark, the blonde guy seemed impressed and checked Vern out, "You really sure this guy isn't a noble? He's dressed like one."

The old man scoffed, "Hahh, a greenhorn wants to teach me how to judge people?"

After scrutinizing Vern a little more, the blonde-haired guy laughed, "Well, I guess you're right, given that he's looking at me like I am stupid for even asking that."

Huh? Did he really make such an expression? Well, maybe it was because of the man's poor clothing choice. It wasn't about his clothes being dirty or anything. No, Vern couldn't fault one for that. It wasn't even the quality, branding, or any stupid materialistic idea like that.

It was about synergy. This man had picked the horrible combination of shiny red pants paired with a yellow jacket and a blue vest. It wouldn't have been a disaster if the jacket matched his hair, but it was too light for even that.

To make it even worse, he had a black hairclip, too. It surely had to be his inner repulsion to this abomination of an outfit that was visible on his face. And know what? He didn't blame himself. The man deserved this for choosing to wear that atrocity.

A simple full-black outfit would have been ten times better.

"Hey! Are you mesmerized by my killer dress? I'll have you know I got it tailor-made for this occasion."

Flap Flap

The old man waved his beret in front of Vern, ignoring the blonde guy, "What occasion? Come on, tell me."

Vern was only thankful for the interruption. He didn’t want to answer that previous question. What he did want, however, was to get out of here as soon as possible. What if he caught this man's fashion sense by sticking around him?

The thought gave him goosebumps. And the realization that they were going to the same place only made his heart sink even deeper.

Accepting his fate, he replied with a pinch of truth and lies, "There's an interview for some new organization there."

The blonde lightly smacked Vern's back and added, "Right! What he said. Now, can you tell us how to get to this palace?" but the touch of that horrific unsynergized yellow only made Vern feel like he was being wronged.

Suppressing his nonsensical disgust, he eyed the old man who obviously didn't buy his bullshit. Still, he told them exactly where to go. Apparently, it was literally the building of two castles to the left.

As they walked on, the blonde patted him one more time and retracted that putrid arm before saying, "Nice to meet you, man. I am Lucian. What about you?"

He somehow managed a "Vern. Nice…nice to meet you, too."

Then, in an attempt to counter his illogical loathing for the blonde guy just because of his outfit, Vern restarted the conversation as they walked past one gaudy cathedral-like building. "So, what exactly are we here for?"

The guy smiled a sunny one and said, "Well, isn't it an interview?"

Wow. He was trying to be funny now. It wasn't endearing at all—not with that outfit.

Taking a deep breath, Vern tried again, "So you don't know either?"

But then, as if a switch flipped inside him, Lucian suddenly turned serious and replied, "Well, it really is an interview for me. I am going to meet my new mentor for the first time today. So if they don't like me, I am fucked. What about you?"

That was interesting. They climbed the stairs and began on a sloping path toward their destination, and Vern replied, "I guess by that logic, it's my first day on the job."

"Lucky bastard. Anyway, what district are you from?"

"None, really. I'm not a local."

"Ohhh? Then why join the Vigil here and not some organization back in your hometown?"

.

.

.

That was a deeper question than he bargained for.

What was home?

Was Master's research station really home? He surely liked the man. A lot.

But was that the place he'd want to go back and settle down in had the world not gone to hell?

Unlikely.

Too many bad memories there. Not enough good ones to outweigh the bad at least.

Then, was it here in Elmhurst?

He had thought so. At least until Ari was here.

Now? He had no clue…

"Damn. Me and my mouth. My bad, man. Didn't mean to make you think about family and home."

Well. Either this guy was too good at reading him, or Vern had too thin of a skin.

He began looping a strand of his blonde hair and mumbled, " I guess…all of us could benefit from not having to think about family."

Vern couldn't deny that one.

So they walked on in serene silence until they reached the 'just second palace on the left.'

"Damnn! We sure this isn't the current Emperor's palace?"

Vern agreed with the man for the first time as he let out an involuntary gasp himself. He stood before a castle, its grandeur not just a presence but an encounter. Its structure loomed over him with an air of regal opulence, each spire reaching towards heaven as if to weave the very clouds in its design.

The stone from which it had been hewn gleamed like polished onyx in the daylight, reflecting the sun's rays with a luster that bordered on divine. Elegant flying buttresses arched gracefully from the main structure, supporting the lofty towers that were adorned with intricate filigree.

The craftsmanship was exquisite, with every detail contributing to the overarching sense of splendor. Ribbed vaults and pointed arches bespoke of a lineage from a previous era, yet the overall effect was uplifting. The architecture seemed to defy gravity in its ascent.

The gateway itself was a triumphal arch, its keystone bearing the symbol of an eye—the same one as the badge Shinsei had given him. Tens of carriages stood in front of the palace, cluttering the walkway.

Stained glass windows arrayed across the facade, their edges adorned by the marvel of ornamental stonework, each carved figure and filigree imbued with significance. When the light struck them so, the ground was bathed in a kaleidoscope of warmth that played upon the flagstones and ivy-clad walls.

Just looking at this structure caused a couple new insights to blossom within his Thought Space. It seemed he really was missing out too much by not having seen this majestic castle before.

"You know what, man? We should head in. We're looking like country bumpkins, staring like this," said Lucian, his eyes glued to the tallest spire.

"Indeed."