Gentlemen," the noble girl called out uncertainly, voice faint yet steady. "By chance, do you know what happened...?"
Her gaze drifted over to the Seat of Honor. There, at the top of the table; imposing and towering above the rest, was an empty chair. It's craftmanship were exquisite, every curve and detail exuding absolute authority.
Everything here felt Ancient. Magnificent. Lofty. As if she stepped into the Legendary Palace of the Giants.
Beneath a dome of hazy gray mist stretched a long, bronze table. On either side stood ten high-backed chairs, arranged with flawless symmetry.
Each chair shimmered faintly with a crimson glow, its back engraved with constellations; strange, unfamiliar patterns that twisted the logic of reality itself.
An inexplicable feeling washed over her, and Audrey shivered. Someone—something—immensely powerful should be presiding over this gathering, and yet...
She turned slightly, her voice a breath between awe and fear. "How fascinating," she mumbles.
Alger's eyes swept across the vast chamber. A Divine Kingdom? The thought struck him, and immediately, his pulse quickened. But where... where is its Divine Being?
Could it be—? His heart thudded. An uninhabited Divine Kingdom?
Impossible. If no Deity resided here, how had they been dragged into it?
A trial, perhaps? He reasoned, grim. He forced himself into an appropriate composure, sweat gathering at his brow. As low-ranked as he is in the world of Beyonders, even he knew the dangers of falsely offending a God. Evil or not, otherwise.
'Do I know what happened?' Klein repeats like a clinically insane person. 'Of course I know what happened—I did something I shouldn't have!'
...
'Though,' Klein adds dejectedly, 'I don't really know what happened either...' he thought, unease prickling at the edges of his mind. What now? What's the most logical response to something like this?
Unbidden, 'Mr. Zhou—where had you gone?' he worries, then he shook his head, focusing at the task at hand.
Seeing the man seated at the far edge of the table shaking his head, the other two strangers visibly deflated.
Lips pursed, Audrey Hall clutched the fabric of her skirt tightly, her knuckles turning white under the strain of her nervousness.
Her eyes darted to and fro, flickering from one figure to the next. 'You can do it, Audrey!' she urged herself, mustering every ounce of courage to finally ask what she'd been longing for in ages.
'Who knows when you'll ever encounter something like this again if you let it slip through your fingers!'
"This," she coughed, "this is such a wonderful experience..." she blurted out nervously. "Yes, I've always been hoping that something like this would happen."
"I mean," Audrey withered under the force of two incredulous stares. "I mean," she wets her lips, "I've always like mysteries and supernatural miracles."
Audrey shook her head, "no, my point is—what I mean is that... gentlemen, what can I do to become a Beyonder?"
'Is she crazy?' Klein thought, unable to think of anything else. 'Wait—Beyonders?'
'Hopelessly naive,' Alger judged. From her extravagantly ornate attire, it was clear she was of noble birth—the sort of person sheltered from the harsh truth of reality.
Now, should Alger respond? He stares at the fog in silence, contemplating. Since the Being of this place had not yet struck them down... Alger's heart began to race with anticipation.
Perhaps... perhaps he should seize this opportunity. If this was truly a test of character, then he should perform his very best; to prove himself worthy before whatever existence watched from above.
"Are you from Loen, Miss?"
Audrey nods, smiling all the while, even with her fear and trepidation.
"If you wish to become a Beyonder," Alger continues. "Then join one of the Churches—the Evernight Goddess, the Lord of Storms, or the God of Steam and Machinery."
'Excuse me', Klein thought. 'The Evernight, who?'
"The Majority of people will go their entire lives without ever meeting a Beyonder. Because of this, many churches—and even certain clergies within the largest of them—have began to doubt their existence."
'I see...' Klein thought lifelessly, forcing himself to listen despite his shock. 'That certainly sounds probable,' he adds dryly.
'Before Mr. Zhou's transmigration and my own 'accident', I wouldn't have dared to think about the supernatural as well.'
"Yet," Alger continues, "I can tell you with certainty that Beyonders still walk among us, serving in courts, tribunals, and execution agencies."
'Execution agencies...?' Klein shuddered, 'what a scary word...'
"They continue to battle the horrors that stir in the dark..." Alger explains, "though their numbers have dwindled greatly compared to the days before, and even during, the early Iron Age."
Klein blinked, astonished. Relying on his fragmented knowledge of history, Klein understood that the 'Iron Age' referred to the current epoch. The Fifth Epoch, which had begun 1,349 years ago.
It's that prevalent? Klein mused, his thoughts drifting back to his childhood. Everything had always seemed so ordinary; never once had he encountered anything remotely supernatural.
So it really is that well-hidden... Though, Klein did grew up hearing whispers of magical cults, cursed relics, and deadly artifacts.
Could such things truly be that widespread, simply concealed from the eyes of the public?
And the Church... is that why they sometimes feel so overbearing?
Could it be that the Evernight Goddess truly, truly exist? And not just some distant, unreachable being gazing down upon 'Her' followers—but as a living, breathing presence within the physical world...?
Though Klein had always believed in the might of the Gods, he had never felt that belief so vividly—so tangibly—as he did now.
"Mister," Audrey says, "I already know what you just said." Her voice was firm despite the tremor beneath it. "I even know more—about the Nighthawks, the Mandated Punishers, and the Machinery Hivemind."
The what? The who? The where? Klein's face turned incredibly strange. 'I don't actually know what you're talking about!' he cried deep in his heart.
'Am I the only ordinary person here...?' Klein thought. 'If so, I don't actually want to know any more than this.'
And yet, he's still stuck. What a pity.
Audrey continues. "But, truthfully... I don't want to lose my freedom."
Alger let out a low, humorless laugh. "You can't become a Beyonder without making sacrifices," he says vaguely, his eyes narrowing.
"If you refuse to join the Churches and face the trials they demand, your only options are to seek out the Royal Families or those few Noble Houses whose lineages stretch back over a thousand years."
Then he paused, his voice dropping lower and lower. "Otherwise, you'll have to depend on your luck... and go looking for the hidden, sinister organizations lurking in the dark."
'So there are hidden, sinister organizations lurking in the dark,' Klein thought, then stills with the realization. 'Are the people who sold the Antigonus Family's Notebook such organizations, I wonder?'
Audrey puffed out her cheeks subconsciously. Glancing around in mild fluster, she pressed on after confirming that neither gentlemen noticed her 'tic'.
"Are there truly no other solutions?"
Alger looked ahead, contemplating his choices... before he answers with an even tone. "... I have two sets of Sequence 9 Potion Formulas."
Both Klein and Audrey perked up in curiosity, genuinely interested.
'Potion?' Klein mused. 'Magical potions? There are such things?'
'Two sets of Sequence 9 Potion Formulas,' Audrey repeats. 'I wonder what they are...'
"Really?" Audrey blurts. "Which two sets?"
Klein side-eyed her curiously. It seems she knows what the Sequence 9 Potion Formulas are...
'Do they give you 'superpowers'?' the college graduate asks, thinking about Zhou Mingrui's memories, 'like those 'superheroes' and 'supervillains'?'
'... With Great Power comes Great Responsibility,' the quote unbiddenly resurfaced in Klein's mind, making his face twitch. Fortunately, no one noticed.
Alger leaned back slightly; unhurried and steady. "As you know... humanity can only rely on potions to become True Beyonders."
'I... actually don't know,' Klein thought with an awkward air.
Alger continues. "... The names of these potions originate from the Blasphemy Slate."
'What's that?' Klein instinctively asks... fortunately, he hasn't spoken it aloud...
"... After countless translations... Jotun, Elvish. ancient and modern Hermes, even ancient Feysac... their titles have shifted over time to suit each era," Alger explains.
'Fascinating...' Klein thought, 'yet confusing.'
"But the essence lies not in the name... rather in whether it conveys the potion's core characteristics."
Alger paused briefly before continuing on as planned. "I possess a Sequence 9 Potion known as Sailor. It grants the drinker exceptional balance—even amidst a raging storm at sea, one can move about as steadily as if walking on solid ground."
"You'll gain great physical strength, and beneath your skin will form faint, illusory scales that let you glide through the water like a fish."
"You'll be swift, elusive, and capable of holding your breath underwater for at least ten minutes, even without special equipment."
Audrey's eyes widened slightly. "That sounds amazing... the Keepers of the Seas from the Lord of Storms?"
'Keepers of the Seas? The Lord of Storms? Fish? Scales? Sailor?' Klein asks, helplessly confused and overloaded with information.
'Too much, too much exposition dump!' Klein cries in his heart.
"It went by that name in the past," Alger replied without missing a beat. "The second... is a Sequence 9 Potion called Spectator."
"... Though I'm uncertain what it was called in ancient times... this potion sharpens one's mind and grants an extraordinary ability to observe." You can likely imagine the meaning from the word itself—a 'spectator'. Like one watching an opera or a play."
"Such a person judges the 'actors' of the mundane world, discerning their true thoughts through subtle expressions, gestures, and words."
At this, Alger's tone grew heavier, and heavier. "But remember this well—no matter where you stand, whether amid splendor or chaos, a Spectator must always remain a spectator."
'A Spectator must always remain a spectator..." Klein tries to summarize and organize his thoughts.
"So, no matter what's happening—whether things are amazing or terrible—you must observe without taking part.'
Audrey's emerald green eyes gleamed. She remained silent for a moment before speaking softly, "why?"
"... Alright, consider this as a follow-up question. I—I think... I've fallen in love with this feeling... the idea of being a Spectator. How can I obtain the potion's formula?" she asks excitedly, "what can I trade with you for it?"
Alger seemed prepared for the question. His expression steadied as he replied in a low voice. "The blood of a Ghost Shark, at least one hundred milliliters."
Audrey nodded eagerly, but soon hesitated, worry clouding her face. "If I can get it—and I'm saying if—how do I hand it to you?"
'That's a reasonable question,' Klein hums. 'How, I wonder..."
Then he stares at the fog consideringly. 'And that's with the premise 'all of us' can get out of here... indeed, 'how'.'
"... And how can I be sure you'll give me the potion formula in return?" Audrey continues. "How do I know of it's authenticity?"
Calm as ever, Alger replied. "I'll provide you an address. Once I receive the Ghost Shark's blood, I'll either mail the formula to you or—"
"Or you could tell it here directly," a voice murmurs, dreamlike and distant, as if stirring from a deep slumber.
All three of them leapt from their seats, hearts hammering wildly in their ribcages.
At the same moment, they turned towards the Seat of Honor, eyes wide with fear and anticipation. Shrouded in impenetrable gray fog, the Being regarded them impassively, an untouchable smile playing across his lips.
(... Although they did not know it, this is not the first meeting between The Fool and his would-be Tarot Club...)
Abruptly, they rose to their feet. With Audrey Hall leading the way as she always does with these meetings—the others quickly following her example.
Together, they bowed deeply towards the Head of the Table, showing their outmost respect, even as they felt faint from the terror seizing their lungs.
"... Good afternoon... sir," Audrey tries, mouth feeling like lead. "It is an honor to meet you."
The other two follows after her instinctively, paying their respects.
"You may sit," the Being commands. They obeyed without issue, silent and in awe.
Then.
A soft chuckle ripples through the air, light and mirthful, as if sharing some private joke no one else is privy to. Through the swirling mist, they glimpsed his enigmatic smile.
"Ah," the Being sighed, as if thoroughly dreadful. "For the host to arrive so late to his own gathering... no matter."
The Being's smile widened even more, soft with something unnamed. "I assume you found your session quite... informative?"
"It was truly eye-opening, sir!" Audrey immediately replied, stepping forward like a natural spokesperson. "I've learned so many fascinating things..." she murmurs lowly.
The Being nods, as if genuinely interested. "This," he began, "is an attempt."
An attempt.
They unknowingly echoed all together. If it was appropriate, Audrey would have liked to pinch herself to check if this is real...
'How wondrous would it be,' Audrey thought, mind stuck on the word 'gathering' the Being had previously described, 'if such a thing were to happen a second time...'
The Being studies her with a tilt of his head. As if he knows of the blasphemous wish inside her heart... and he says with ease.
"If you make a formal request, you may return as you wished."
All three occupants startled, chests beating to the point of a heart attack.
'He won't try to keep us here?' Alger asks, 'did this attempt... entail only our presence, by chance?'
'How wonderful!' Audrey exclaims, and if she could, she would've danced in her happiness.
'... What is happening?' Klein wonders, mind refusing to catch up with reality.
"Sir," Audrey began slowly, "how should we... how should we address you?" After all, isn't that basic etiquette?
The other two gentlemen agreed with her, nodding their heads.
"Indeed, sir." Alger angled his torso to the Seat of Honor, echoing. "How should we address you?"
Klein offered his own response, just as respectful.
For some reason, Klein felt as if the Being's amused gaze lingered on him far longer than it should. A shiver ran imperceptibly down his spine.
Then, the Being's eyes drifted away, distant and unfocused as he spoke.
"You may address me as... The Fool."
Klein's expression turned even stranger. The Fool. Number 'zero' of the Tarot Cards. Unbidden, his mind flashed to the incident with Zhou Mingrui.
Did it... somehow come true?
Another worry gnawed at him; where is Zhou Mingrui? Where could he have gone?
Klein's gaze naturally drifted to the Being at the High Chair, wondering... does he know?
Notes: