Guillotine struggled to move and barely stood on one bent knee. He looked up sullenly, he saw Egon's terrified face in the center of the room, soaked in the inquisitor's blood. He stood like a statue, didn't move, didn't speak, stared straight at the wall with his wide opened eyes, holding the murder weapon firmly in his hand, and was completely unlike himself. Homer was in the darkest corner of the room. The wound in his shoulder throbbed and ached, and his arm was beginning to wobble. He knew that his body was beginning to change, as if a long-acting lethal poison had been injected through a needle, but didn’t pay much attention, there were more urgent things to take care of. Guillotine turned his head in his direction, and Homer reminded him a standard-bearer after a crushing defeat on the battlefields, waiting for his fate; in general, this was not so far from the truth. And then Guillotine saw Ofir rising between two corpses in the center of the room.
Everyone was silent, no one said anything. There was no noise of cars, no bustle of people outside the window, and no sounds of the raging nature. Darkness and stillness reigned in this room, taking the souls of the dead into their realm of endless darkness. The world continued to run its course, but not here, the space in the living room at this long moment was out of time.
Ten minutes later, everyone began to come to their senses, they stirred, and the floor creaked. Egon dropped the morning star on the floor. And Ofir looked at Roderick's body and said:
"He died because of us. He didn't deserve his fate."
Guillotine also got up, went to Homer and set him on his feet, but he could not really move, he was still dazed, there was a dull squeak in his ears, as if a mine had exploded next to him. His hands were shaking uncontrollably.
"Egon, do you want to tell us how that spell didn't hurt you? Hey! Hey! Egon, how are you doing?" Guillotine asked.
He turned his trembling head, and in the dim light, Guillotine saw tears running down his cheeks. He looked at Roderick and spoke:
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
He repeated the same word for a minute, and everyone looked at him. Ofir slapped Egon across the face with the back of his hand and brought him back to his senses. Egon fell and a small, bloody note fell out of his pocket. Ofir walked over, picked up the note and unfolded it, no one paid much attention to it, he ran his eyes over it, and turned back and looked at Egon and the others.
"Let's make it so that Roderick fought with the Inquisitor," Egon said in a heavy voice, trying to look like nothing had happened, trying not to let his feelings run wild, although for the first time in his life, he wanted to shout and not stop, "let's give an anonymous tip to the Inquisitors, let them come here and watch. In that case, they won't know about us."
Then he turned and looked at Guillotine, and said: "I don't know any more than you do."
"That doesn't sound like you at all, Egon," Ofir said.
"What will happen next?" Homer asked.
"I didn't tell you," Egon said, wiping the tears from his face, his voice stopped quivering and everything came back to normal, "my parents are alive. I mean the real, biological parents. The last time I was able to talk calmly to Metyr, trying to find out about his experiments twenty-five years ago, he told me that not only were my parents connected to those experiments, but what was most strange, he called them "not quite metentises", who put a "Seal of darkness" on him, prohibiting him from talking about what happened. I want to go back to «Grandfather» and ask him about these experiments, and if he needs all my money to tell the truth, I will give it to him."
"Fuck," Guillotine said. "What do you mean by «not quite metentises»?"
"We can only guess."
"Did he say where your parents are?" Ofir asked.
"Yes. He said they are in Agernox."
Everyone fell silent, and for some reason all three of them felt even more uneasy. They waited for more and Egon didn't keep them waiting long:
"As of now, there are five people who know something about these experiments: Grandfather, Alba, Atilla, Thomas, and Metyr. Metyr is dead, and even if he wanted to, he couldn't tell me, but on other hand I didn't see any metovis' seals on Grandfather's tongue. As for the other three, we just can't get to them."
“Can’t get to them yet” Ofir said "I'm sorry, I read your note."
"Note?"
"Metyr's last words. It fell out of your pocket."
Ofir held out a worn yellow paper on which was written a text with a fountain pen.
"Metyr's handwriting," Egon said, "but when did he…"
Egon paused and tried to remember when Metyr had been able to slip him a note.
The torture chambers? Maybe earlier? For how long have I not noticed?
"Will you read it?" Homer asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"Yes. Probably."
"You haven't read it?" Ofir asked.
Egon looked at him and shook his head, then looked at the note and began reading:
Dear Egon, for me, there are three important things in this world – freedom, knowledge, and surroundings. I've always had problems with freedom. All my life I've only followed orders because of one mistake I made five hundred three years and eight months ago. Contract. I'll never forget that day. One day you will find out about this too, I know it because I have no doubt that you won't stop until you have put all the pieces of the puzzle together and below, in this letter, I will point you to the first clue…
Egon's eyes filled with tears. His voice cracked, but he didn't stop reading.
... To put it bluntly, I've always envied your freedom, which is why I wanted to escape this world with you and your loyal friends. Yes, although I pretended that I was not interested, pretended that I did not like your nocturnal adventures, in fact it I wasn’t. Your stories, your adventures – it was one of the two parts that reminded me that I was still alive and who I was living for. I felt responsible for you, I felt that there are things that are right, like living by the law, so I told you to stop, it was a lie, but what kind of parents don't do that? They tell you how to do the right thing and hope that you will do it differently, because they would still be afraid to do it and they are interested in what it will eventually lead to. We parents are strange people, and we, like you, are confused about ourselves. It is ok.
Deep down, I wanted to know and participate in those adventures, I wanted to steal from the rich, go to the black market and see the underside of this world. I wanted to follow my heart, but I realized that I was too deep in the swamp. Being dissatisfied with work and life has become a habit of mine. And habits can be both destructive enemies and powerful allies. So far, you are still forming and all the roads are open to you. Do not pay attention to the established rules imposed by society, do as your heart tells you, think and call everything by its proper name, do not lie to yourself and do not lie to others, no matter how banal it may sound.
I understood that sooner or later the one who works for the government but outlived his usefulness will be disposed of, and this day was getting closer...
Egon felt a lump in his throat. It became quite difficult for him to continue reading. He paused. Drops of tears fell on the note. He wiped his eyes, lowered the note, and raised his head. He began to breathe deeply. Everyone looked at him with serious faces, no one said anything, everyone understood his condition without words. Guillotine walked over to Egon and put a hand on his shoulder. Ofir did exactly the same. Homer got up and hugged them all. Egon smiled, gathered his strength, and continued.
I could feel it, as the young can smell death from the houses or apartments of the old. I will not beat around the bush, and I will tell you how it is: I'm the man who killed the rich-boy who tipped you off on the diamonds. I deliberately made such a sacrifice. He was your only obstacle to your freedom, and I can't let that happen. Your life is just beginning, and let it begin with the freedom and awareness of this world, the world that really exists and is not open to everyone. Yes, I knew all about it before you told me everything, my parent's heart told me that you were in trouble, and it wasn’t wrong. And don't ask me how. I'm six hundred and fifty-three years old. I can feel these things right away.
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Egon smiled, not knowing why.
So, I’ll smoothly move on to the second point - knowledge. It, together with your stories, experiences and you growing up, helped to keep my mind from falling into a deep melancholy, it helped me to forget about my mistakes and things that I still regret. Your life is the experience and knowledge you gain. You are the vessel of a small life in an infinite universe filled with infinite worlds. You live by your own rules, which means that you are formed as a person, and not as a mechanical mechanism that goes to point A every day, and then returns to point B, and so on until it is replaced by a new model. Remember, the one who knows everything, rules the world, and fear comes from ignorance. Use this as a shield, and it will withstand hundreds of thousands of cannon shots.
I'm sorry, I can't tell you or write to you about your parents, I can't tell you all the things I've learned recently, but I can give you the opportunity to become someone who can decide your own destiny. I keep VV crystals in my warehouse. Take them. Come to work and find your element.
Also, there is power in numbers. And here we come to the last point – our surroundings. Do you know what I mean? We are our surroundings. We are the shield and the weapon to each other. You were always the only one I felt comfortable with. You're the one I can rely on, the one I'll tell you to run and we'll run without looking back. And I know that Ofir, Guillotine, and Homer are as close to you as you are to me. I've always seen my young self in you. This letter is not only a message of guidance to you, but also a reminder of how diverse my life has been since you arrived. I loved you as a father loves his son and let you explore this world when any other parent would have forced you to follow his own imaginary rules, which is fundamentally wrong.
You're probably wondering how it all came to this moment when we're sitting across from each other in the inquisition’s torture chamber. I saved a woman with the help of metovis, I knew what it would lead to, but it was then that I experienced a feeling that had long since left me – to do what your heart tells you, to do the right thing, even though this understanding comes only with hard life experience, and only it is given the right to tell you what to do, and certainly not an idiotic law written by some retards. If you'll find out what happened, you'll understand how to find what you want most.
Five hundred and fifty years ago, I would have been rewarded for my action, but the world has changed, before the protection of the weak was a truism in the world of the metentises, but not now. Metovis is not evil. Metovis is the freedom that they are trying to take away from us. You will understand it, you will feel how it passes through your veins. Develop and learn. Become the greatest metentis the world has ever seen! Change this world.
Forever yours, Metyr.
"The end," Egon said, and carefully folded the note and put it in his pocket.
All four of them showed their respect to Metyr with a minute of silence.
"We understand what it means to lose a close one," Homer said. "Please accept our condolences."
"Thank you, thank you all, for being with me at this moment."
"Yeah, you're fucking welcome. Especially when you consider the two corpses on the floor."
"Guillotine!"
"What?"
"Nothing!"
"All right, guys, calm down. Looks like we got some of our questions answered here."
"And we got even more riddles."
"Does that mean we're in safe now?" Homer asked.
"Apparently, yes."
"At least until we're caught with two bodies."
"Guillotine know how to ruin a moment."
"And you can spoil my mood, Ofir. But never mind, I'll spoil it for you soon, too."
"How's that?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
"Find out what?"
"I won't tell you a shit."
"Guys, what's he talking about?"
Egon smiled and watched his friends swear. He was very sad and at the same time very happy.
"I love you guys so much," he said.
"What? In what way?"
"In a friendly way."
"Let's hope so!"
"Listen, Egon," Ofir began, "when you told us that you would «warn Metyr» and he would help us, I was surprised at your confidence, so you and he have already agreed on everything, right?"
"Yes. Your memory has not betrayed you again. I knew then that Metyr was a metentis. But we agreed to hold a "rite of awakening" with him when we were all out of town."
"There's something else you're hiding from us - the friends you love so much?"
"Nothing," Egon smiled again.
"The rite of awakening?"
"The rite that makes you a metentis. Homer, did you even listen to him?"
"I was listening, just wanted to clarify."
"Metyr, Alba, Thomas, Atilla – are they all people from ancient times?"
"At least we're sure about this."
"I wonder who else is immortal in our city."
"Our supreme king!" Guillotine said with a grin.
"The one no one saw."
"Which no one will ever see in their lifetime."
"Maybe «Grandfather»?" Homer asked, and everyone looked at him questioningly, and he was embarrassed by this and continued, "he just knows too much, I think, there’s more to him than it looks."
"This sly fart seems sly enough without that."
"You have to be careful with him."
"Yes, the fart likes to play dangerous games in his old age."
Ofir walked over to the dilapidated chair, turned it over, checked to see if he could sit down, and sat down with the characteristic creak of broken springs.
"I suggest we sort out a little of what Metyr wrote to us. We found out about your parents who were involved in the experiments, found out that all the inquisitors are metentises, found out that half or some part of them are immortal fuckers. I don't think anyone would mind becoming a metentises and using all the things that this nutcase used on us today?"
"No."
"Of course not!"
"Metyr said «in my warehouse I keep VV crystals», in what warehouse, Egon?"
"I didn't know he had a warehouse."
"Then we'll have to find his warehouse. Let's think logically. Judging by the context, if we find out what happened to Metyr and who he saved, we'll find out where the crystals are stored, because that's what you want most, right? Egon, why didn't he make you metentis right away that day?"
"He said he needed to prepare for it."
"How? What is required for this?"
"Water sprinkler, VV crystal and a sphere with element. VV crystals can't do anything by themselves, as we know. Therefore, Metyr and I usually fill them with elements enclosed in spheres. Usually after this procedure, we give them to the customer, that is, the Holy Inquisition or their contractors. Only that day, Metyr took a water sprinkler, twisted something in it and sent a strong water pressure into the crystal, it cracked, then he took a nail, a hammer and punched a small hole in the crystal, then, if my memory does not betray me, fiery particles escaped from the crystal, he inhaled it and after a few seconds he was able to light small lights on his fingers."
"Then it's all clear…"
"It's clear only for ya, Ofir."
"I'll explain it for you, Guillotine. After work, Metyr went to prepare for the rite of awakening. For which he had everything except the crystals… By the way, Egon, why didn't you use the ones you have at work?"
"Because the lack of even one crystal is punishable by death under torture."
"Got it. This is a good point. I’ll continue. Metyr went to get the crystals at the warehouse, where he saw an event and protected one woman with the help of metovis. Apparently, this woman, with completely brain-soaked propaganda that metentises should be handed over, told the inquisitors or the police about what had happened, but they would not have found Metyr so easily and quickly, so someone was following him. So, we need to restore the chain of events and find the warehouse."
"Ofir is right," Egon said, "let's do this. Guillotine will ask the police officers on his payroll for any information about this case. I'll ask my guys if anyone heard anything on the streets. Ofir, we will need your brains, read Roderick's book, maybe with the new information we will understand more than he did, yes, and in any case, the information will be useful to us. And you, Homer, go to Metyr's house just in case, quietly, so that no one sees you, and check if he meant that his house and warehouse are different places."
Everyone looked at the floor, hoping to see a book, among the wreckage of wardrobes, chairs, a table, torn pieces of a sofa, and other debris.
"Does anyone see the book?"
"No."
"No."
"Nah, it must be somewhere near Roderick."
Ofir got up from the sofa, picked up the old man's body - nothing there. He started looking around and suddenly swore:
"Fuck! Here it is."
He picked up the torn part of the book, and then began to pick up the sheets from the floor.
"Why are you standing there and watching? Help me!"
As one, everyone began to search through the debris and collect the pages.
"They're not numbered," Homer said.
"That's my concern," Ofir replied, "you'd better collect all the pages you can find."
Ofir, Guillotine, Egon, and Homer spent a couple of hours picking up pages or parts of them from the floor. Then they made the scene look like Roderick was fighting against the Inquisitor. Egon said that since they had nowhere else to hurry, it was worthy to at least have one day of normal sleep and rest. Everyone agreed.
"We'll start tomorrow. We'll all meet at my warehouse tonight and will share the information we found."
"What about our stagecoach?"
"What should we do with it?"
"Well, it’s standing alone in the woods, unattended."
"We'll think about it tomorrow."
There were shouts and explosions outside the windows. Egon immediately ran into the hallway, returned to the kitchen and looked at what was happening outside. Marauders ran along the road, with swords, bows, or steam crossbows, smashing everything around. The others went to the window and looked at the same place.
"Well, well," said Guillotine, "I forgot that the streets are not safe."
A deafening hum of sirens sounded outside, growing louder and then fading. Then the curfew was announced on the radio through megaphones. The authorities ordered no one to leave their homes and wait for further instructions. Those found on the streets will automatically be considered a rebel and will be caught and executed to the fullest extent of the law.
"Shit, looks like the war started here, too."
"Ofir forgot, ha-ha. Sounds funny."
"I wonder who they are?"
"I don't know," Egon said, "but we'll wait here for now. Sit down, guys, and close the door to the living room, the corpses started to stink."
In less than a minute, Homer fell to the floor and passed out. Everyone gathered around him and began to examine his wounds. Ofir tore open his friend's clothes, and everyone saw a black spot on his shoulder, around which the veins swelled and blackened.