“We go through the Void, and what delectable madness is this? The lost castle is found! Yet what rabble sully its halls… Princess, allow this humble Jester to prepare your way. When your sister arrives, we shall be ready with a feast…laced with poison. Hehehe.” - Castro, The False Jester, The Lost Diaries, Vol. XIII.

The winds died down, leaving a faint mist that obscured part of the town. Letter in hand, Clover stood in solitude for a time, allowing the rain to patter against her jacket.

She breathed slow, even breaths, serpent irises drifting through the drizzle in search of the jester; the more she pondered on their encounter, the further her mind sank into the balls she’d attended as a little girl—a masquerade where the occupants would veil themselves to add mystery to the evening.

Castro had a twisted cadence that brought a darker cast to the magical events of her early teens, and reading over his note gave an air of grandeur that contrasted his jester persona. The skill and discipline of impersonating anyone to such an extent—even swapping his own scent and transforming his body—made him a true shapeshifter.

Full lips tightening, a dark look creased her eyes while searching for the disguised fiend one last time. “The Jester of a Thousand Faces, are you?” she whispered, tingles cascading down her wet skin; she had to wonder if he could take the shape of inanimate objects.

Only the sound of rain met her ears, and after a time, she turned her attention back to the letter as she contacted Tyler; her earrings expanded for their private conversation.

The man’s handsome face came into focus, and Clover realized he must have a similar device as her, but considering his position, he could see why Tamara would have made him one.

He was still by his large window, overlooking the weeping city that washed away the blood spilled on its streets from the transevil attack. His controlled, deep voice came to her as clearly as if she were standing beside him.

“I figured you’d contact me soon… My sources tell me you claim something else was at the site, insinuating that Castro is back.”

Clover’s finger’s tightened around her jacket, draped over her head and the folder. “Have you met him?”

“No, but I have a hard time believing Ivan and Wilfred failed to exterminate the rassi. Considering what I know, if it was Castro—the way you are right now—you’d be dead. Are you sure it was him?”

She had a challenging time admitting it, but there wasn’t anything she could do about the truth. “Honestly, no… He’s totally invisible…I can’t track him. Whatever this thing is, he’s a shapeshifter, and while I know I’m not strong enough to handle him right now… Instinctually, I don’t think I’m far off.”

A sardonic smile twisted her lips. “Ironic, really… I’m talking about gut feelings as if they are a statement of fact; still, it’s practically written in my bones. So, you tell me if it’s possible; you have the network, after all… A jester that wears many faces and can dispose of a Class-3 transevil with ease, manipulating it to attack the city for entertainment. Sound familiar?”

“Hmm… Tall—almost giant-like—a sapphire cap that jingles, shoulder-length silver hair, and a lover of theater?”

“It’s almost as if you have met him,” Clover muttered, scanning the swirling mist again. “I have no clue if it’s a male or female—transevil or rassi, for that matter—if that even matters at all, but read this…”

Her earrings tilted as she lifted the folder he’d given her, the fiend’s message clear to see.

A low hiss passed through his barely parted mouth, vision narrowing; Tyler didn’t respond for several seconds as he thought, focus returning to the town.

“It looks identical to the parchment and dramatic language Castro employed from the letter Ivan showed me. Hmm. The way I see it, it’s fairly cut and dry—either he’s Castro, or he’s not… Either scenario is alarming.”

Closing the folder, Clover wrapped it in her jacket to tuck it against her side and studied the man closely as rain fell around her unprotected face. “What do you suggest I do?”

A small smirk lifted Tyler’s blue eyes as they moved to her. “A shapeshifter… Do you suspect I am an imposter?”

“I’m not sure of anything anymore,” Clover muttered, yet the mysterious fortune teller crossed her mind. “Almost everything…”

She fell silent, meditating on Shion’s warnings.

The near future… Judgment in the Upright… I am a mark of reckoning. I reclaimed my Soul-Spirit, but that’s not everything. It can’t be. Fate’s advice was the Upright Lovers… I need to unite with the people seeking my help and bridge the gaps, not push away and isolate myself.

The ominous clouds of the calming storm played with her imagination, yet she had missed a critical detail in Shion’s message.

The Reversed Justice…multiple agents are trying to worm their way into my path, but fate doesn’t want me to deny them because of the Upright Lovers… The payoff is worth the risk.

“Clover?”

Setting her resolve, she walked to the edge of the building to put a foot on the rise and stare through the haze at the partially obscured streets. “I’m going to check out that hidden repository you gave me… Castro could be waiting there for me or plotting his next prize, but I wanted to help Lily, and in doing so, we’ll solidify our partnership. Call me if you get any more information on this shapeshifter.”

She cut the transmission; the warning about manipulative forces could be for those she hadn’t met, as well, and if she was going to get anywhere, action was required—stalling and worrying would get her nowhere.

Bringing the wrapped folder to her chest, Clover hopped off the edge, soaked hair rising as she fell to land on the ground; the few people on the sidewalk jumped and gave her shocked looks, but she continued to her destination, the map invisible to them while projected to her mind.

Her walk through the alleyways and streets was met by looks and whispers; she ignored them out of habit since it had been a common thing she had to deal with growing up, the rabble always talked about their betters.

The grime and ruin of Hollow Veil contrasted with Clover’s previous life, impressing on her mind as she walked; the change in her wasn’t something new. After some deliberation, she knew it in her soul; a significant amount of time had passed in the Great Void, even if she couldn’t remember it, but it certainly had changed her in unexpected ways.

It was difficult to accept; yet again, she could see a distinct change in her mental state and behaviors that wasn’t so apparent before. Her family was dead, and she had time to mourn and come to terms with that inside the Great Void, she was sure.

Clover slowed to a stop in front of one of the cleaner windows to look at her own reflection. Water trailed down her skin and soaked into her hair; she wore an impersonal expression that likely attributed to others keeping their distance or moving around her.

Searching for purpose inside herself, she sensed a confusing amalgamation of complex emotions, and yet, at the same time, the lack thereof; an artificial draw was there, and she could trace the instant it budded—when she fell.

A hunger instinctually drew her to feed on the transevil and rassi, and she wanted answers to the memories that had been stripped with whatever power she held in the Great Void. Someone had sent her to be a judge to those trying to ruin her world, and Shion knew far more than she could reveal, bound by some law she was under.

Cold eyes narrowing, Clover turned from her reflection to continue her path; it was as if there were multiple parts of her either locked away or missing, and she couldn’t see them, but there was one thing she knew—she would not wither away.

She had an enemy, and that was her purpose, but not because some voice or goddess told her; there was an ambition buried deep inside her being, and to reach it, she had to grow or die. At first, all of this was new and exciting, but now, she had an itching feeling of a dark hand playing in the shadows.

Thirsting darkness bloomed in her breast; if fighting the enemies rising up against her would help her understand what she’d forgotten—her true prey—then she’d slay every adversary that stood before her.

Thunder rolled through the heavens as she made it to an unassuming building in the residential district of town; several people stayed at the large apartment complex, but, according to the analysis on the documents she’d been given, the power draw didn’t mesh with the number of tenants she smelled.

Taking the stairs, an older man leaning beside the door pushed himself away from the wall to give her a quizzical look. “Eh… Wrong place, missy?”

“I don’t have business with you,” Clover dismissively stated, walking around him, but his hand latched onto her right arm before passing.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“Hey, this isn’t a publi—ack!”

Clover pushed his hand back into his chest, easily shoving the much larger man; he stumbled into the wall, trying not to fall down the stairs. “I would advise you to rethink your behavior.”

“Woah, ugh… Look, if you’ve got a boyfriend here…”

Bypassing his questioning look and mutters, she opened the door and walked inside, closing and locking it behind her, to his astonishment.

Her actions drew the attention of a woman in her late twenties, forehead furrowing as Clover calmly took the left hallway; the black-haired lady gave a start as she proceeded.

“Wha— Hey, what are you doing?” She rushed after her, pausing as she stopped in front of the third door to the right. “Who are… What are you—”

The woman’s eyes bulged, stumbling back as the Viper Blade appeared in her hand from mixed light, and Clover tossed the folder at her. “Hold that.”

A lump formed in the woman’s throat as she instinctively caught it, with her eyes going wide as Clover’s jacket flashed onto her frame. “A spirit ruler?!”

Clover smiled and put a finger to her full lips, whipping her weapon to snake around the woman’s body before she could bolt. “I wouldn’t scream.”

She choked, coughing a few times as the man outside roared and shouted about unstable women, but seemed too stunned to properly think of what to do next as the linked blades pressed just tight enough to cause discomfort and not cut.

“Good… Come here.”

“W-What do—h-ha—wha—are you doing this—n-no, a-a new spirit ruler?” Her heart thumped to Clover’s sharp ears, body heat rising in panic while the links slowly drew back to bring her forward. “I—is—I don’t know what they do here—I just—they pay for me…”

“Shhh… I don’t care. Shut up and just follow me. Okay?”

She frantically nodded, lips sealing, and the Viper Blade vanished, freeing the woman to rub her shoulder where the flat portion of the weapon constricted her, the folder remaining tightly gripped in her arm.

Clover’s eyes drifted to a painting beside the door, heat leaking out from around it. Knocking it aside, she found a small metal insert that eased out as her hand neared; a place to set the hardware Tyler had given her opened up.

Having the woman take the device out of the sealed package, she placed it on the imprint; a click came as the door unlocked. Two more thick steel panels eased back for it to automatically swing inward. Removing the unassuming microchip herself, Clover walked inside, motioning for the bug-eyed woman to follow.

A gust of frigid air cut past her, making her captive quiver, fingers tightening under her armpits. “W-What is this place?” she whispered while moving behind Clover.

“It doesn’t matter. You just need to shut up and not make a scene; once I’m done, I don’t care what you do.”

Clover navigated through the maze of servers to find a terminal where she could place the object, and the Viper Blade flashed into her hand, instantly accelerating with ice trailing her across the floor.

Her palm pressed against a stunned guard’s chest that just turned the corner, shoving him against a server; the edge passed by another’s head, whose locked-up body stared down at her in shock. Clover’s luminous arctic irises stole his full attention.

“Do you care to live?”

He nodded, heart in his throat as the second mumbled, “P-Please…”

“Are either of you going to get in a spirit ruler’s way?”

“N-No—heh-no-no! Never!” the one she pinned sputtered, face going white.

Pulling back as the woman jogged after them, showing new levels of apprehension, Clover tilted her head to her as the door outside closed. “Where can I stick this?” she bluntly asked, holding up the device in the hand she’d used to pin the guard.

“Teh-hu-hum… I-I don’t know,” the larger one whimpered, sounding breathless from the air she’d forced out. “I, heh…I just make sure the cooling system is functioning.”

“Hmm… You?”

The second instantly shook his head. “N-No—I just m-make sure he doesn’t do anything—uh, unusual…”

“Mhm. Fine. Join her.”

Clover absently moved through the large room, which had cut away from all of the other walls on the level; she noticed the cameras, but avoiding them probably wasn’t an option.

“Are…we going to live?” the woman whispered while maneuvering down another path and holding the folder against her chest.

Fixating on a storage box, unlike the others, Clover went to study it. “Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”

“Sorry! I-I’ll shut up…”

The two men and woman gave nervous glances to one another, shifting nervously in the chilly environment, and after sliding her finger over the surface to analyze it, Clover sighed. “So long as you remain compliant, you don’t have anything to fear. There it is…”

She smiled upon removing a plate and finding a touch display; just below the screen, a few places slid out—one having the shape of the memory stick. Upon setting the hardware on the indentation, windows began popping up, transferring data at a surprising speed.

“Perfect. Now, to wait,” Clover smirked, jabbing her thumb behind her at a camera. “Is security here?”

The maintenance man cleared his throat, sniffing and trying to fight past the panicked tears threatening to leave his eyes. “I—I really don’t know… I come in every three days to check on the cooling system—I have nothing to do with this other stuff—I don’t want to mess with the SPU—I just want to go…”

“M-Me, too,” the woman shuddered. “I just get free rent if I don’t ask questions—I’d be homeless without Marcov’s charity…”

Clover’s gaze drifted to the servers as the second shook his head again. “Charity? You’re being used to keep suspicion away from this place; clearly, if you’re not allowed to go to certain areas, as I assume, then you had to suspect this was shady, even if a little… You needed a place to stay, though. Am I right?”

“Mhm… I… Is it bad?”

“Heh, I have no clue… Oh, already done. Quick,” she mused, taking the stick out and glancing around at the colossal file structure. “Transfer speeds have become shockingly fast for something like this since I entered the Void… Anyways, I’m done; have a nice day.”

She left the three in shock, taking the file from the woman and leaving. Upon exiting the room, several armed men stood in the hallway, yet not one took aim as she walked by them without a care in the world.

The elderly man snarled, pointing at her from the entrance. “That’s her—w-what are you doing…”

Clover smirked, eyes flashing. “Can’t you smell the sweat and piss; what do you think would happen to them if they fired on a spirit ruler?”

“A…spirit ruler?” he mumbled in disbelief, stumbling away as she reached past him to open the door. “Why are…”

“Hmm?”

A confused twist moved Clover’s mouth as he darted through the exit before her, taking off through the rain as fast as he could; after ten meters, his foot dipped into a puddle, making him tumble across the muddy, wet ground and bounce back up, now limping. It certainly got several laughs from some men burning trash under a tin covering.

“Well…bit of an exaggerated action,” she mused, entering the soft shower as the Marcov mercenaries watched her go without a word.

Clover dropped the folder into the burning pile the men had created, watching it burn as the others apprehensively studied her; the device remained held inside her palm. “That was easier than I anticipated.”

She gave the older men a small smile and wave, entering the storm again.

“Eh-heh. Do ya have a name, Ms. Spirit Ruler?” one asked.

“Clover,” she returned with a smile. “Clover Emberfield. Have a wonderful morning.”

“You too!”

Her focus lifted to her earrings as she exited earshot, shielding the device with her hand while studying it; on desire, they appeared to begin analyzing it and remotely transferring the information to Tyler.

Convenient, indeed, Tamara.

Calling the man, he answered on the first prompt. “I’m impressed; I hadn’t considered this method of sending data. Hmm…it’s just about finished. Are you coming to visit?”

“Naturally. Will you have what I want by the time I get there?”

“I should; although, it will be suspicious for you to make another visit so soon, and right after raiding that secret Marov data center… Can we meet in the location Tamara selected for our first meeting?”

“Fine by me.”

Leaving it at that, Clover puffed out a long breath of air, swapping directions as her earrings mapped the closest path, and once the transfer was completed, she dropped the device and crushed it to bits with her heel. It was becoming more natural for her to use her strength to bypass opposition; she couldn’t dream of doing something so brazen in her previous life, but it felt all too comfortable now.

What kind of calamity was I in the Great Void… Why wasn’t I allowed to keep my memories? Maybe Shion can shed at least a little light on that when I see her next.

Making her way through the light mist, Clover caught a small glint through the haze, a violet sun from the Void-tinted heavens beaming down, and the clouds thinned when reaching her destination. Opening the basement door, she closed it behind her, focusing on Tyler in the center of the room.

“So?”

Arms folded across his broad chest, the man scowled as he perused the invisible information on his Desire Force device.

“Considering these storage centers are updated nightly—and in-person—Lily’s information isn’t stored here since it wasn’t updated before the wipe. However, I can reference the data recovered from the doctor’s testimonies on the experiment they performed to find similar procedures and their results…”

His lips became a line, and Clover’s focus shot to the left as a message box opened, asking if she wanted to accept the data he wanted to show; the information opened, and she listened to him while browsing the data.

“So far as these papers indicate, it was an experimental surgery on implanting trace nanites infused by Desire Force to control transevil… It references a beta experiment called H.I.V.E. as producing promising results and using the leftover Source Material from project R.O.J.Q. No other link is found inside the system for those keywords, but ultimately, it looks like most subjects introduced to the nanites died on injection… Lily’s still alive, which means…”

Clover’s eyebrows pulled together, scanning the remaining documents from previous subjects. “Lily’s may have been a success… She may be able to control transevil or have a prolonged side effect. Is there a cure or some method to remove them?”

A scowl came to the man’s blue eyes. “Unfortunately, no… I know for a fact once Desire Force is infused into the human spirit, it stays—there is a transformation that takes place—and Lily is likely in the process of that as we speak.”

“Will it harm her or cause her to harm others?”

“I can’t say.”

“Perfect…” Twisting around to exit, Clover held up her hand as her earrings returned to their proper position. “Thank you for the help, Tyler. Let me know when you want something else…”

She stopped at the door, tone cold as the chill of the opening brought a gentle breeze. “I want to continue chasing this lead.”

“He-he, well, I suppose we’re in business now. I’ll inform you when I have more to share. Oh, and by the way, I’d stop by the crew to dump off your goods; if you plan to fight Castro, you’ll need all the help you can get.”

“Mmhg…” Clover grunted, exiting the building to prowl the wet streets.

Now, how do I tell Lily and Laurence? Who knows how soon this experiment will take hold and affect her? She needs hope, not despair. How to say it without lying, though… I don’t know what it will do to her. I suppose I’ll tell her I’m still searching for answers… I would want to know the facts, even if they are grim.