"My greetings, and thank you for being here and ready to listen to me," I began, rising to my feet, my sword swinging from my little finger, caught by the curve of the guard.
As their cacophony of returned greetings subsided, I continued, "As you know, I have been granted access to the organization's internal forum. Yesterday, I visited it and read some of the discussions... Upon reading them, I realized that on my first visit, by incorrectly answering Knight Kraas's question, I inadvertently misled everyone, sparking unnecessary speculation." Judging from their reactions, things seemed to be going well. All except Max were focused more on listening than watching my right hand, from which my sword was swinging - a promising sign. "I want to dispel all rumors." I hoisted "Word" on my little finger for everyone to clearly see the weapon. "Knight Kraas, are you familiar with the properties of this blade?"
"Yes," the BKDW leader replied, albeit with a slight delay.
"Do you confirm that this blade will rust if I tell a lie?" He didn't seem to plan on keeping this information from the organization's raigs anyway, so I wasn't concerned about revealing my "secret." Furthermore, I had numerous ideas on how someone else's knowledge of my inability to lie could be manipulated to my benefit.
"I do," he responded, his voice tinged with a slight doubt, yet he agreed with my statement.
"As everyone can see, the blade is clean." I gently turned my hand, allowing "Word" to be scrutinized from all angles. "And now, here's my declaration. Esteemed Knights, I am neither the First Raig nor the First Knight, whatever those terms entail. Also, I was initiated fairly recently. I don't know the true nature of Breakthroughs or their cause... I can't make any definitive statements about my age either, except that I have truly lived for over forty years, meaning my projection isn't some intricate illusion..." Taking a pause for a deep breath, I concluded, "That's all I wanted to say. As you can see, the blade is clean."
Every raig instinctively leaned forward slightly, studying the steel of "Word."
"And how do you..." Maya was the first to pull her gaze away from the blade.
"Please excuse me," I interjected immediately, "I'm not prepared to engage further. Please don't take it personally - it's not against you, but... my sword puts me at a disadvantage. I can't lie, but I'm not immune to deception in return. So, please don't take my reluctance to communicate personally. I need to adjust to everything that's been thrust upon me. And I would appreciate it if you did not insist."
"Ah..." Maya opened her mouth again.
However, she was immediately nudged aside by Kraas' shoulder.
"We understand," he replied for everyone, reaffirming my impression of him as a sharp mind.
"And yes, I almost forgot," I continued, perhaps foolishly. "I don't want to harm any of the Break Knights, but..." Swirling "Word" before their eyes, I sheathed my sword and drew the wakizashi from my belt. "I request everyone to come forward and touch this sword."
"Why?!" Amanda took a step back.
"It's necessary."
"But..."
"No problem! If it's necessary, then it's necessary," Leonidas interjected, cutting off the damsel in knight's armor. Taking three steps forward, he touched "Purity" with his armored glove.
Next came Maya, followed by Thomas, and then the rest. The white sword did not react to any of them.
"Stop! I'll explain everything myself," I raised my hand before the wave of questions could crash down upon me. "First, I don't know if this is news to you, but the Call is not necessarily tied to the area." Judging by everyone's reaction, this was indeed new information. "Tonight, I was pulled into the Breakthrough in North Africa."
"Wow, this is really..." Sivorsky apparently echoed the group's consensus.
"And second, the main point. They attempted to replace the Knights participating in the Breakthrough with identical entities."
"In terms of?" Max drawled out slowly.
"Completely identical duplicates, retaining all projection abilities and body memory."
At those words, all the raigs took a step back in unison.
"The attack was repelled. One of the Knights involved in the Breakthrough identified it as the embodiment of the 'Quantum Mirror' novella from the 'Quantum Gate' series. This is likely the first occurrence of this kind, but I can't be certain. My second blade can sense malicious entities due to its properties, which is why I asked you to touch it."
"But how can we..." Maya was the first to recover from the shocking news.
"Trust me?" I interjected because the girl was speaking too slowly. "Unfortunately, you can't... More precisely, I don't know how you could verify whether I am a double or the original."
"And yet you decided to tell us this, knowing that we would now doubt whether it's you or some malevolent entity from the Breakthrough?" Kraas sought clarification.
"I am a Break Knight," I shrugged in response.
"It's easy to check," Amanda smiled, drawing her sword.
"I don't want to kill you," I retorted, stepping back and resting my hand on the hilt of "Word."
"No!" the girl cried out. "My sword appears to have the same properties as your white blade. The moment I became scared and panicked, fearing that I could no longer trust anyone, it informed me that it could discern a person from an Outsider creature."
I stood still, watching the heavy broadsword slowly descend into my palm. Fear surged within me: what if my soul, drawn from another world, would be perceived as alien? What if I was truly an Outsider Creature with fabricated memories? This unnerving thought held my hand steady. If I were such a creature, then let it end now!
The sword continued its slow descent onto my palm, each moment stretching out into eternity. And when my tension peaked to the point of shattering nerves, a single, rational thought crossed my mind. When Amanda's blade finally made contact with my hand, I had found calm. Yes, there was a chance that the broadsword could identify me as a stranger in this world, but it was now abundantly clear to me that I was not an Outsider Creature.
"Ah..." Amanda seemed to be listening to herself as her sword met my hand. "A human." There was no uncertainty in her voice, but it seemed as though she was expecting a different answer.
A human! Had my jaw not been clenched so tightly, I would surely have broken into a smile at this simple word. I was fortunate that her sword responded so ambiguously. On the other hand, it could very well be like "Purity," only capable of distinguishing whether the being before it was a Breakthrough creature or not, with no further clarification.
"I'm glad to have dispelled your doubts," I said, pulling my hand back and stepping away. "However, I must apologize. It would have been sufficient to only check Knight Kraas." They didn't seem to understand what I meant, which was understandable since this idea had only recently occurred to me. "Considering his ability to see the Essence of our projection swords, checking others was superfluous... We can suppose that an entity could change its appearance and mimic one of us. But despite all apparent similarity, I don't think external forces can perfectly replicate our swords with all their inherent properties, since the Essence of our blades, which Kraas' ability lets him perceive, is the gift of the Break."
My reasoning was accepted by all, save for Max, who twitched slightly and reached for the back of his head, only to remember he was wearing a helmet and halt the motion. I understood his annoyance, likely at himself for not being the first to think of using his ability in such a manner.
"Again, thank you all for listening," I said, sheathing my sword and stepping back once more. "I was glad to see everyone, but now I must apologize. There are matters I need to attend to..." Yes, I might simply need to clean the apartment or take out the garbage, but overall, there was certainly something I had left unfinished. I kept these specifics to myself. These thoughts felt more like a plea to my sword, as I disliked the cold sensation in my palm after speaking. It was a warning. Such omissions were dangerously close to what the blue blade would interpret as a "lie." "Until next time!" I added, before Maya could voice her question. "And no, there's no need to see me out."
With those words, I delivered a formal bow and, spinning on my heel, leapt to the other edge of the roof in a single bound. Then, I dropped down into the square and, not risking the use of sliding, dashed off as fast as possible. I didn't think I would be pursued, but prudence was always better. If I had lingered for even a second, Maya would have bombarded me with questions, and then the others would have joined in. I wouldn't have responded, of course, but the ensuing silence or an even harsher refusal than the first time would have tainted the entire impression of my visit.
After sprinting six blocks, I changed direction, dove deeper into the courtyards, and disappeared into the first basement I came across. I understood that all these precautions were probably unnecessary at this stage, but I couldn't help myself. Despite constantly assuring myself that everything was fine, I always seemed to be on edge where it was least necessary.
However, there was definitely progress in my battle against paranoia! Despite the risks, I had managed to overcome myself and share important information. It wasn't merely about informing the BKDW recruits about the Call, which isn't tied to the Breakthrough's location, or about potential replacements. The critical part was that all of this would reach the curators. Regardless of my concerns for my own safety and future, I had no moral right to withhold this knowledge. I had heard countless stories of good people perishing because someone failed to pass on vital information in time. And in this case, we might be talking about not just several lives, but the future of the entire world. Thus, I had done the right thing! Even if my actions may have appeared like those of a young knight, it's even better. Judging by Maya's reaction, I had scored significant points in the eyes of the raigs.
Additionally, I also had the chance to impress the curators. I wouldn't limit myself to what had been shared already, but would write a detailed report about the nighttime Breakthrough using my granted access to the BKDW's internal forum. It was an excellent idea! Moreover, I had read numerous reports prepared by the military, and if my report mirrored their style... Given that the military is consistent across all times and probably all worlds, such an approach would surely catch the analysts' attention. This could lead them to make false assumptions and further complicate the creation of my psychological profile, which I had no doubt was being compiled for all Knights who had even made an appearance.
An intriguing notion, preparing such a report and posting it in the forum's private section could prove to be a multifaceted move. Additionally, observing the reaction to this post would be interesting. Would it be shifted to a sub-forum accessible to all registered raigs, or would it remain in the closed section? This detail would reveal whether the proclaimed mission of the BKDW — to assist all Break Knights — aligns with their actual actions.
However, if I were to proceed with this, I would need to do it today, as the peak efficiency of such an action would pass by tomorrow. On the same day, a visit and a report would signal a well-thought-out planned act, which aligns perfectly with the false image that the Maestro is an ex-military man — or even an active one! Let them search and dig in the wrong places — the denser the fog around me, the easier it will be for me to play my game.
After spending about twenty minutes in the basement, I performed another surveillance check and made my way home at a leisurely pace.
While preparing dinner, I reflected on my visit to BKDW. The more I mulled over it, the more errors I spotted. Most of them were non-critical, but still easily avoidable. I should have taken my time, prepared thoroughly, and only then visited the organization. Although my announcement at the first stage went fairly well, the subsequent improvisation was subpar in many ways. I could have orchestrated everything much more subtly through Max, while remaining seemingly in the background. Yes, I managed to score numerous points with the Knights, but at the same time, I inadvertently put Max in an awkward position. Moving forward, I need to remember this and avoid such spontaneous performances, if possible. Previously, I enjoyed acting according to the situation and solving problems on the fly, but as experience demonstrates, it's better to adopt different habits now.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
After having a quick bite and calming my nerves, I concluded that despite my blunders, I had acted appropriately. Sharing the information was necessary — and I did it. Simultaneously, I managed to leave a positive impression of myself, which is undeniably a plus. Overall, I need to stop second-guessing myself incessantly! Only those who do nothing make no mistakes! Therefore, there will be errors, as I refuse to spend my entire life cooped up in my apartment. I need to learn not to dwell on them, but to derive lessons from them and, most importantly, reinforce my successes. For instance, instead of berating myself right now, I should sit down and compose that report...
Creating a clear and coherent report might seem straightforward — just sit down and start writing. However, if you're unaccustomed to it, the task is anything but simple. On one hand, it requires detailed descriptions; on the other, a formal, fact-based account devoid of personal interpretations. Quite challenging indeed... Especially when throughout my life, my writing has usually been the exact opposite: rich with reflections and insinuations, scant on facts. I spent three hours on just two pages of text, rewriting it from scratch five times! But, after reading the final version, I felt satisfied.
The report encompassed everything: the peculiarity of the Call, the exact location of the Breakthrough, and most crucially, a detailed description of the seven projections of the Golden Knights, including an account of the armored man's legendary skill. Yet, I did not describe the ability granted to me by the golden light, which would suggest to any analyst the level of trust I have towards the potential readers of this report. Naturally, I didn't overlook describing the Breakthrough and the presumed substitutions, but without conjectures, just precise information, as is proper in a report. The words of the eastern raig about the "Quantum Mirror" were quoted without any explanations. I assume they're intelligent enough to locate the source themselves. After reading the final version five times and running the text through literacy programs, I saved the file onto a floppy disk.
Yes, a floppy disk! Flash-based storage devices, the thumb drives I'm accustomed to, are already available here, but they currently cost an exorbitant three hundred francs, with their maximum capacity not exceeding four megabytes.
After eliminating all traces of the original file from my computer, I switched everything off. Rising from my chair, I stretched with satisfaction. The clock read four in the afternoon — plenty of time to spare.
Dressed in my motorcycle gear, I stashed the floppy disk into my sleeve pocket and slipped into the Break. This time, I decided to access the network from an elite area at the very base of the Hill, near the clan quarters.
In principle, I could now freely roam the city as a projection. Maintaining stealth no longer holds any substantial benefits. It's enough not to broadcast the starting and ending points of my route, but habits die hard, so instead of a short sprint, I chose to hop from one shadow to the next. Consequently, the journey took nearly twice as long as the ten minutes it would have otherwise required.
Nevertheless, as compensation, I quickly found an unoccupied apartment with a functioning computer. The owner rushed out of the house ahead of me, heading to some urgent meeting at the airport, engaged in a call on his mobile phone, without even bothering to switch off the PC. Seizing the opportunity, and with Purity showing no reaction, I used it with a "clean conscience."
Uploading the text file and then transferring it to the closed section of the site was accomplished in just three minutes. The temptation to use the situation and thoroughly peruse the forum more than I had done last time flitted through my mind, but this would contradict the image I was trying to project to the curators' analysts. Therefore, I didn't linger and, after erasing my digital footprints, I shifted into the Break and exited the opportune apartment I had stumbled upon.
Springing onto the roof, I evaluated my prana reserves. Despite the day's escapades, I still had ample energy. So instead of returning home, I opted for some sliding training. The "Reserved Forest," the Ducal forest park sprawling over 500 hectares to the north of the Hill, seemed an ideal venue. Of course, the park was guarded, and regular folks were denied access, but as a projection, such minor obstacles were inconsequential.
This time, I chose not to hide but sprinted directly across the Hill, except for taking a wide detour around the Castle. I can't quite explain why, but this palace complex, devoid of any hint of fortress walls or other defensive structures yet designed in the architectural style of medieval castles, instilled in me an uncanny sense of danger. The thought of setting foot in the Duke's residence, even in the Break, was something I didn't entertain. Perhaps it was the influence of Izao's shard and the multitude of horror stories circulating the city streets about the deeds of the aristocrats. It could be the reason, but I had no desire to verify it. If my instincts are screaming, "don't stick your head in there," it's wiser to heed them rather than barging in like a rhinoceros, neglecting all premonitions.
Circumnavigating the Ducal residence, I was prepared to pick up speed and hastily descend the hill, but when I looked up to plan the most efficient route, I came to a sudden halt. That sense of deja vu! It felt like I'd seen this place before! Last time, after my first encounter with Crixus, I was running around here and felt the same. Back then, I dismissed it, thinking I'd seen a similar view in some promotional images. But this was different... There was something else... Where did I... It was recent...
That's it! The photo on Maya's desk! The one where she, Max, and Thomas are captured alongside a mysterious mentor. The background of that picture offers an almost identical view. Only the angle from where I stand now is slightly different, but just slightly.
As the saying goes, curiosity is not a vice, and I, wandering in the Break, endeavored to match the picture in my memory with my real-time view, in an attempt to pinpoint the exact location where the photo was taken. The process was slow, but by gradually reducing my movement speed to that of a leisurely human pace, I achieved near perfect alignment and found myself standing by an old, human-height, ivy-covered stone wall. Judging by its looks, it appeared to have been constructed in the century before last. Strange, I'd never heard of this place and hadn't found any references to it in any of the Wilflaes guides.
Leaping up, I surveyed my surroundings. Remembering who was in the photo, I wasn't overly surprised to discover a quaint patio garden of a small Buddhist temple behind the stone wall. The yard was virtually deserted except for a young novice in yellow robes, methodically raking a sandy path. His movements were rhythmic and repetitive; he seemed to be sleepwalking through his task without pause. I'd have probably vacated the area immediately if he hadn't been in such a lethargic state. The young man's aura had a distinct bronze hue. A sensum, albeit a mere Feeler, serving as a gardener? There's something fishy about this place!
As I pondered why a sensum would engage in such mundane tasks as smoothing a sandy path, the door at the far corner of the garden quietly opened and two older monks stepped out. The younger monk snapped to attention and became incredibly active. The pair, carrying an oriental-style tea table, crossed the yard in silence and vanished around a bend, climbing stairs leading somewhere higher. Intriguing! It was puzzling because these two monks were sensums as well, but they were Contemplators. As I was confident that neither the first, second, nor third rank of sensums could perceive a projection, after initially flinching, I chose to stay and scrutinize the location more thoroughly. I was intensely curious about the BKDW Knights' mentor, who seemingly held significant sway over the organization's raigs.
Undoubtedly, this is a monastery, judging by the ancient wall encircling it – there can't be a different interpretation. Yet, unlike other city architectural landmarks, this temple complex doesn't appear in any guidebooks. Izao, having lived his entire life in Wilflaes, had never heard of this place. Furthermore, the temple's location prompts particular thoughts: it's nearly at the base of the Castle, a mere hundred and fifty steps from the hedges enclosing the ducal residence. The land here is not only pricey, but also impossible to buy. Without at least ten generations of lineage, you wouldn't be permitted to construct a residence in such a place, no matter how wealthy you might be.
Meanwhile, the pair of Contemplators crossed the yard once more, this time in the opposite direction. I'm intrigued to see what lies atop the stone stairs around the bend. Poised to flee at any second, I descended into the courtyard, followed the path, and climbed the stairs.
Wow! The view that unfolded before me was absolutely breathtaking: the entire bay, parks, pathways, and distant clan quarters all laid out beneath me. This was the exact spot from which the photo was taken – a perfect match! Below me was a flat round stone platform, a seven-meter-diameter disc of granite polished to a gleaming finish. Above me was the canopy of an old yet well-maintained tiled roof. There was nothing superfluous here, just stone, sun, wind, and a distant sea, along with a tea table recently brought by the monks. An idyllic spot for meditation and reflection.
This place is beautiful! Truly beautiful. I doubt even the Duke's office offers such a panorama. For two minutes, entranced by the sheer beauty of the vista, I stood gazing out at the bay. Then, I realized I was nearing a meditative state, which isn't advisable while you're a projection. Lose yourself in such contemplation and you'll remain standing until your prana runs out! Regaining control, I was about to leave this place, promising myself to revisit and examine it more closely, when I heard the soft patter of bare feet on the steps. Vaulting up, I sat on the roof's edge and waited.
A monk in an orange kasaya ascended to the platform with the measured stride of a confident man unhurried by time. He appeared to be between thirty and forty, with a strong face marked by sharp cheekbones, and a calculating gaze as grey as a stormy sky. Undoubtedly, this was the elusive raig mentor.
He carried a small tray of tea accessories in his hands. After placing it on the table, he settled into the lotus position directly on the stone.
As soon as I laid eyes on him, all my senses shrieked, alerting me to danger! The monk's aura wasn't just glowing – it was ablaze like a silver sun, with prominences ejecting bursts of spiritual streams in various directions. Even the Break around him seemed to change, becoming denser, sharper, more vivid, and more real. I watched this storm of energies and realized that an attack with "Word" or "Purity" would not pierce this aura; attacking it with the Knights' swords would be futile – they would merely go unnoticed.
I knew I should have fled immediately, but instead, I found myself perched on the roof, captivated not by the way the Maker prepared tea, but by his aura. It was both beautiful and terrifying, akin to a captivating, perfect storm ready to engulf and bury you beneath its waves.
It took nearly five minutes to shake off this spellbinding illusion. However, before I could make my escape, the mentor finished the tea brewing ritual. Without lifting his eyes from the teapot, he reached out in my direction. Instantly, I jolted as if an invisible giant hand had seized my projection.
Constricted, I was pulled from the Break into reality...