Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiee-
The kettle demanded attention from the distracted man sitting at the simple desk near the only window in the room. A desk that had materialized out of nowhere, but the man conveyed no signs of astonishment visible to the naked eye.
Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeee-
A pen hovered over the journal waiting for the man to collect his thoughts. The morning sun cast a golden glow upon the white, unlined paper.
Whiiiii-
Allen poured the hot water over the beans he had grounded earlier. A thin stream of dark liquid leaked out of the filter and into the pot underneath. Steam clouded the glass container, as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee diffused through the room.
A pen twirled absentmindedly between nimble fingers. There was a word on the page followed by a couple of observations.
[Transmigration…traveling from a previous reality to a different one. Did his body travel through or was it just his mind that survived? Is he occupying another’s body or was it created just for him?]
Allen was tired of the topic that preyed on his often-distracted mind, but it refused to release the claws deeply embedded in his thoughts. The attraction was indescribable and impossible to understand unless one was personally experiencing it. It felt almost…unnatural.
The pen paused mid-twirl and clattered onto the desk, forgotten. Was it unnatural? Or did a part of him instinctively understand the importance of this missing knowledge and was subconsciously pushing him to rediscover it as soon as possible?
Recently, vague impressions and habitual actions that leaked through from out of nowhere had only added to the confusion. The rules under which his memory operated were beyond his understanding. What was allowed and what wasn’t?
Troubled by his thoughts, Allen took a sip of coffee. His face instantly wrinkled from the bitterness that assaulted his tastebuds. There was no creamer or sugar to soften the blow. Allen fell into a depressed state of mind as he stared at the liquid that was darker than Midnight.
Speaking of the angel, a shadow slinked into the room and nestled onto his feet. The resonant purrs vibrated through his toes. Allen had failed to resist the temptation. He convinced himself that the company was good for his mental stability in this time of uncertainty.
He reasoned that if food supplies dwindled, he could always send the cat back to the streets. While some might deem it heartless, it seemed the most practical course in Allen's mind. The feline had proven its ability to survive until now. In a time when both were at risk of hunger, there was no sense in both of them starving.
Midnight was an unoriginal but fitting name for the all-black feline with eyes that twinkled like the stars and sharp with alertness. Cats, by nature, are intelligent creatures which he appreciates. Although a canine’s loyalty is enduring, it would only be an extra burden in Alen’s current situation.
Both owner and pet dug into their breakfast, savoring the feeling of a full stomach while they still can. A wave of lazy satisfaction washed over Allen. He felt grateful for his job which demanded little from him.
He settled down on the chair with his remaining coffee, the only thing deterring him from returning to bed. After a moment of silence to gather his thoughts, Allen reached for the pen that was patiently waiting for him.
~
David POV:
David mechanically arranged the freshly baked bread and cake on their designated displays, his gaze distant. The crumpled slip of paper in his left pocket weighed on his mind, the instructions written within were short but clear.
A loaf of bread landed on the clear display with an impact noticeably harsher than usual. He was nothing but a pawn, a disposable tool. But hadn't he known this when he made the choice to join? Still, he couldn’t prevent the wave of injustice that swept over him.
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The organization's directives were vague, offering little insight into the true nature of the store or the figure that presided over it. Despite the lack of information, it didn’t take a genius to understand the potential dangers.
David stepped out of the small bakery, the scent of freshly baked goods lingering on his clothes. He adjusted the collar of his worn jacket, his demeanor shifting as he prepared to travel back into the lair of an unknown being.
He comforted himself with the fact that he had survived last time. Although, he had been beyond startled a being like the store owner had been curious about him. Did he know? Was he amused by the audacity of ants intruding on a giant’s home?
David shook his head hard as if he could shake the fears out of his system. A nervous chuckle rose out of his throat. He was overthinking. A giant wouldn’t even take notice of ants like them. Yet he had…
The night air hung heavy with unspoken tension, and David couldn't shake the feeling that he was stepping into a web of secrets, one that could easily keep him forever.
The short distance stretched endlessly in front of him as the adrenaline coursing through his system made him aware of every passing second, the little stones digging into his thin soles, and the back of his thin coat rubbing against his neck.
As he approached the bookstore, David observed the warm glow of its windows, the ordinary exterior belying the terrors contained within. Swallowing hard, he prepared to present himself as unobtrusive, a mere passerby seeking the solace of a good book.
He donned the same meek demeanor that had saved him multiple times in his past adventures. He was anything but unprofessional.
The vintage door swung open with a subdued jingle, announcing David's entrance. The man stationed behind the front desk, pen in hand, looked up as David entered. The store seemed to pulsate with otherworldly energy, leaving David to wonder about the latent powers concealed beneath the unpretentious facade of the bookstore owner.
"Good morning," David mumbled, his eyes avoiding direct contact. He approached the counter, feigning a timid curiosity, concealing the underlying purpose of his return.
"Hello again," The storekeeper replied, a faint smile playing on his lips.
He definitely knows. David’s heart skipped a beat. How could he have finished the book he brought so quickly? A wave of frustration surged through him, directed at the organization for compelling him to return prematurely.
What if he asks about the book? He swallowed hard, suppressing the rising discomfort in his throat. A managerial member had been waiting for the book upon his return, leaving him completely oblivious to the contents to even come up with a decent lie.
Wait, the chocolate cake. David almost forgot the package held delicately in his hands, safeguarded from the roller coaster of emotional turmoil.
"For you, Mr. Shopkeeper. You mentioned a fondness for sweets. I picked this up on my way here. It's my favorite. It's also the store's—"
He was rambling. His words spilled forth uncontrollably, a stream of consciousness he couldn't stifle. The figure listened without interruption.
“...I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. Thank you for the treat.” The being smiled at David with eyes darker than the abyss. They held an unusual attraction. “Please, call me Allen. I forgot to introduce myself last time. My apologies.”
“No, no, it’s completely fine.” David hastily reassured him, waving both his hands in front of him.
“We all have rough days; it’s understandable. “ Allen closed the journal before him. “How was the book from last time?”
David hesitated, his mind racing through potential responses before settling on the safest course—honesty. He smiled sheepishly. "It was a last-minute gift for someone else."
David forced himself not to hold his breath subconsciously in fear of provoking suspicion. The brief pause that followed felt like an eternity.
“Oh? A fellow ‘book lover’? I would love to see them in the store someday.”
What did he mean? David sensed an underlying significance in Allen's words. Was it a warning? A threat?
He pushed the concerns to the back of his mind for later contemplation as he browsed the shelves. The books were as ordinary as last time. The organization had likely discovered nothing too. Though unspoken, David deduced from experience that an official member would have been dispatched instead of him if they had uncovered anything of significance.
A face flashed across his mind at the thought. David clenched his jaw and then released it, the pop loud in his ears. I’m sorry, there’s nothing I could do.
A slender book on a lower shelf grabbed his attention. It drew his eyes for no observable reason. No title, just like the rest. The absence of titles intrigued him. Were customers meant to choose based on intuition alone? Did the books somehow seek out their readers?
Even without evidence, David would be foolish to believe the books were as ordinary as they appeared. One doesn’t last long in the industry with that kind of mindset.
Comparing the current book to the one he had hastily chosen on his previous visit, David noticed a difference. He had been too preoccupied with survival to focus on much else last time; instead, he selected a random book from one of the back shelves.
A shadow passed over his eyes as he contemplated.
If that was the case…David made up his mind.