FATE/PARALLEL COLORS
Chapter 4: To Define Hell
The early morning hours soon gave way to the mid-afternoon. It was a pleasant day - not too hot, not too cold. Very few clouds were present in the crisp blue heavens, allowing for the sun's full strength to beam upon the ancient farmlands of Arkham. This would perhaps be one of the last days these fields would get to enjoy such fine weather, for once the dam was constructed, these lands would become a massive aquarium setting never to be seen by human eyes for who knew how long. Perhaps some diving enthusiasts may get to experience the farmlands that serviced colonial America's growth, but that was about it.
Those thoughts refused to wane for the female surveyor as she went on a long morning walk towards her various destination points. At each stop, she analyzed the geography and took notes to bring back with her to Boston. She didn't want to skimp on the details either – she was sure that the project's higher echelons would be relying on her and her colleagues' findings for constructing a dam that would last for generations to come. Her work gave her a good distraction from her rampant thoughts, but once she had to trek from one point to another, those concerns always returned to haunt her. As she came closer to the old Gardner farm, a profound uneasiness took complete hold of her mind.
Amidst the withering masonry, ragged old road and overgrown weeds, the young woman's eye finally caught the sight of what Arkham's locals referred to as the 'blasted heath'. When she first heard that term several weeks ago, she found it rather unusual and dramatic. Yet, she understood that it wasn't just one or two people like Ammi Pierce blubbering about how evil that section of farmland was. The entire town was virtually in a murmured uproar about it, and she worried that if she tried poking this proverbial hornet's nest any further, she would be in for a lot of trouble with the locals. Sometimes, it was better to just keep quiet and go see for herself.
Now that she was here, she finally realized why Arkham's citizens were so uncomfortable discussing the topic with her. Moreover, the flurry of residents eagerly buying their way out of the town and moving as far away as possible started to make sense. Although it was halfway through the morning, an eerie shadow always loomed over the property that once belonged to Nahum Gardner, blotting out the sun not with actual clouds, but with an ominous sense of mystery and foreboding. If anything really did block out the light, it would be the dense collection of unnaturally thick and tall trees, clearly overgrown due to some abnormal force within the soil. One tree could potentially build an entire house, if only the wood was not so clearly unhealthy to be worth using. Seeing so much humongous wildlife all clumped together like this made her think of abandoned dogs who were overrun with matted and dreadlocked fur teeming with ticks and parasites.
Not even the breeze rustling the mutated fronds could overcome the immense silence shrouding the place. The young woman knew that the soil which warped the wildlife surrounding the former Gardner home was responsible for those nasty carrots that Pierce showed her before. Although the 'blasted heath' was localized to just one farm, its immense presence carried through the entire region. Nothing felt right here. Even the wildlife seemed to struggle to escape from this horrible place. The way the farm was situated in a lower valley made the whole scene reminiscent of a witch's cauldron, bubbling with grey fluid and grotesque flora thrown in as ingredients for some mad stew.
Could this be the result of a fire?
It couldn't be. If a fire had broken out here, surely new wildlife would have grown over the ashes. However, the entire concept of 'growth' was severely altered in this unusual space. Any terms coined by human beings had no place here. Even if something did manage to grow here, it would just be rendered useless anyway. Despite her trepidation, the woman had to proceed through here in order to conduct her surveying business. For now, she just snapped a bunch of pictures to chronicle what she witnessed, being absolutely careful not to disturb anything more than she needed to. Even stepping on a twig would have spooked her. While investigating this area, she felt like she had stepped inside an isolated bubble, exploring a completely different dimension unheard of to Earth itself.
The moment she left that five-acre property behind, she didn't feel like herself anymore. It was as if her entire being had become acclimated to the 'blasted heath', and returning to her own world suddenly ripped some vital piece of her soul out. Her questions from earlier kept floating in her mind. Could the dam truly submerge this undesirable space into the deep recesses, never to be seen again? Or did this space harbor a far stronger power than she imagined – strong enough to render all of the dam water as useless as the trees and carrots she saw? Was this some kind of 'infection' that needed to be treated before the project could get underway? Was she going to be dismissed as some random lunatic who bought into Arkham's folk tales? Would the politicians with the money and power to do something about this completely ignore her claims?
No answer came to her. Only the sounds of rustling leaves and dancing grasses sung in her ears.
There was nothing she could do except wrap up her work for the day and return to Pierce's residence to compile her findings.
Small fireballs sailed through the simulated forest, detonating as miniature explosions around the madly dashing Cuchulainn. He deftly bobbed and weaved through the fusillade as he closed the distance between himself and Connla. He leapt over her, then swung Gae Bolg at her chest. She vaulted backwards to avoid the blade, then crossed her own spear with his. If they were of equal strength, they would have been at a stalemate. Since he was physically stronger than her, he used the momentum to flip her off her feet onto her back, and he immediately fell atop her body to pin her to the ground.
"That's enough already!" he barked, wrapping his arm around her collarbone and pressing his weight upon her torso. She struggled to break free, but he refused to let go. She didn't seem to hear him, which unnerved him more than usual. Suddenly, her body seemed to 'melt' beneath him as she shifted through a hazy rift that opened up directly below her. It didn't allow him to pass through though, leaving him lying there stupefied about how she escaped. Another gap opened right above Cuchulainn, and Connla dropped through while pointing her spear at his back where his heart was located. He yelped and rolled aside moments before he could be fatally struck.
Shit! No matter what I do, she's going to break through it!
That one question kept echoing in his mind; would he be forced to use Gae Bolg on her? Was this going to be a repeat of their duel back when they were alive? He refused to believe that it was the only way to stop her. He knew it wasn't really her fighting him, but some unnatural entity taking control of her body. Since he couldn't understand what its true nature was, he had to treat it as if he was fighting her directly.
Cuchulainn vaulted onto his feet and prepared a Shield Rune. Connla smashed her spear against Gae Bolg, making him lose focus. That momentary distraction was all she needed to flip over his shoulder, force him to fall upon her upward-pointing feet, and throw him into the air using her legs. As he flipped upright, she performed another teleport so she was in midair with him. She twirled her entire body and spear about, cutting some deep lacerations on his upper torso, then landed on his face and hopped off so he would crash back onto the ground.
As he lay on his back glaring at his possessed daughter, Cuchulainn's mind went blank. There were no more doubts in his mind now. All he could think about was unleashing his Noble Phantasm to silence her. Whether or not it was the right decision didn't matter to him anymore. Besides, he was sure that Connla would have wanted him to kill her if she knew she really was endangering everyone around her. It was an unfortunate choice, but without understanding what was controlling her, he had no time to figure out any other alternative.
I'm so sorry!
Despite having fallen onto his back, Cuchulainn wielded Gae Bolg in a throwing stance. The crimson spear crackled with energy. Medb's cries for them to stop fighting went unheard – exactly as how Emer's pleas were unnoticed during their fateful encounter. Everything was playing out exactly as before. The nightmare was happening all over again for Cuchulainn.
The world became totally silent around him…
Then, the sound of the simulator's doors sliding open caught his attention. From his peripheral vision, he noticed two more figures rush for the console and see the unfolding battle. One was the red-haired Rider and younger version of the Macedonian king Iskandar, best known by his childhood name Alexander. The other was Chaldea's second Master, Waver Velvet, who had been recruited after the conclusion of the Akakor incident.
"Oh, thank god you're here!" Da Vinci cried out when she saw Waver.
"What's happening!? Why are Cuchulainn and Connla fighting like this!?" the young Mage blurted.
"Never mind that! Use your Command Spell to wake Connla up!"
"To… wake her up?"
"There's no time to explain! Just do it!"
Although perplexed, Waver nevertheless thrust his clenched fist forth, then screamed, "By order of my Command Spell, wake up at once, Connla!"
One of his charges was expended, and the order affected the comatose Lancer as a compelling force that overwhelmed her Spirit Origin. A sharp sensation practically split her brain for a split second, forcing her back awake with a shocked gasp. She instantly ceased her next attack and collapsed onto the ground several feet away from Cuchulainn, utterly baffled about why she was fighting him rather than Lucius.
"Wha… What am I… doing?" Connla yelped and trembled uncontrollably. She stared at the spear in her hands, not recognizing it whatsoever. She dropped it in total fear, then stepped back and gazed at her surroundings.
Cuchulainn grit his teeth, unsure if his daughter was actually awake or not. He canceled his dreaded Noble Phantasm, rolled onto his side and hobbled onto his feet, then eventually uttered, "Have you… snapped out of it?"
"Snapped out of… I… I don't know what you mean…"
As the child Servant feebly uttered those words, she noticed Lucius lying on the ground, covered in hundreds of cuts and seeping blood that stained his clothes. Cuchulainn's injuries were quite serious, but Lucius' were much worse in comparison. She looked down at the bizarre weapon and discovered it also covered in a lot of blood. A moment later, it dissipated as a strange vapor until it was no longer there. She gasped and covered her mouth, then squeaked, "Did I… Did I do this!?"
Izo, Earp and Touta ran through the simulator's doors with their weapons ready, but quickly realized that the fight was already over. The Japanese archer glanced around, then asked, "Is everything okay here?"
Before anyone could respond to him, Connla stumbled away from Cuchulainn and bolted for the same doors, running as fast as possible before anyone could stop her.
"Connla!" Cuchulainn shouted and chased after her.
"Damn it!" Da Vinci yelled. "Go after her! She needs to be restrained at once!"
"I'm kinda lost 'ere, but if the kid's goin' berserk, no way am I lettin' 'er ravage the place!" Izo exclaimed and ran back into the hall, with the other male Servants following him.
"Waver, you and Medb get Nightingale in here to treat Lucius!" Da Vinci ordered.
"Y-Yeah!" he blurted, and the two of them also hurried off.
Connla hurried through Chaldea's halls in a blind panic. She had no plan for where she was running off to, other than to escape from everyone in the simulator. She passed by several staff and Servants, who were surprised to see her rushing past without giving them so much as a glance. She just kept making a mad dash, hoping to find a place where she could be alone.
She soon ran out of energy and stumbled along the wall towards the nearest room. She hobbled inside and fell onto her hands and knees so she could gasp for air.
It happened again, didn't it?
She was sure of it. She had returned to the fictional world as the unnamed woman surveying the decrepit farmlands of Arkham. While her mind was absent, something else took over her body and caused so much damage that Cuchulainn needed to intervene. That was all she could understand from what she saw in the simulator.
Absolute despair and panic gripped her entire being. She tightly grabbed her hair, practically close to pulling it out of the roots as she trembled and shivered. Her breaths came out as short gasps, barely providing her brain with the oxygen needed to think clearly. She couldn't hold back the tears anymore, and they flooded off her face onto the ground. She didn't know what to do anymore. She knew something was wrong with her. Ever since she returned from the Akakor world, something incomprehensible was happening to her. She thought she could handle it on her own, without dragging everyone else in like she did with the Akakor incident. Now, she realized that was no longer possible. She was so confused that she desperately needed to talk to someone who knew what the hell was going on.
But… who?
Cliste was dead. No one in Chaldea even noticed she was acting strangely until now. Hell, not even she knew there was a problem with her! Who could possibly help her anymore!?
Cliste…
Connla kept thinking of her counterpart. She wished she could go to sleep and visit her friend in the dream world. Cliste was always so calm and intelligent, giving her advice on what could be going on with her Imbas Forosnai visions. Her wealth of wisdom and friendly demeanor always soothed Connla's nerves, encouraging her to keep pushing through whatever trial she was dealing with.
She no longer had that.
What was she going to do now? Could she keep living like this? There was no way. If this kept up, either she was going to hurt someone – as she was certain she did to Lucius - or she would have to be slain to protect everyone in Chaldea. Both outcomes were equally as dreadful for her to contemplate. While falling, she even caught a glimpse of Cuchulainn powering up Gae Bolg's curse. If he had been forced to go to such an extreme, then it had to be true.
Oh god…
Feeling totally defeated, she slumped her entire body into a ball on the ground and sobbed, refusing to show her face to the world.
Someone… help me…
"Hell…"
A lone male's voice resounded within the abandoned Arkham wilderness.
"What is one's definition of this horrible, yet abstract concept?"
Within the 'blasted heath' of Connla's fictional world, the tall grasses, overgrown weeds, and various wild flowers melted into a black ooze, then coagulated into a liquid lump of viscous tar until it resembled a humanoid form. Although no recognizable features were present, a pair of ominously shining red eyes and a row of polished grinning teeth could be seen.
"Is it an actual place, full of demons who sneer at the concept of love and justice? Or is it a state of mind that is unique to each and every individual? Is it the ultimate destination of all humans, inevitably born with the burden of Original Sin? Or does it serve as proper inspiration for people to turn away from vice and embrace virtue?"
A pair of feet formed within the liquid, and black shoes callously clicked upon the greyed earth. The figure did not care about the curse looming over this bizarre patch of land. In fact, he found it rather humorous.
"I do not care for the answer either way. The fact is that people must strive for balance if they are to live fulfilling and meaningful lives. If Hell and Heaven were to be attributed as scales for every individual being, then the balance has been in Hell's favor for far too long with this poor soul. From my perspective however, Heaven never had an opportunity to even try outweighing Hell."
A streak of dark ink followed behind this strange fellow, blotting the bleak landscape like a pen dragging along a piece of paper.
"This is your Hell, isn't it, young Servant of the lance?"
He suddenly whirled around, and the ooze covering him began to take shape as a heavy black coat. He gazed upon the alien farmland and inspected it with both mirth and disgust.
"Heh heh… Splendid. This so-called 'blasted heath' is the perfect representation of your inner ugliness… An ugliness that, though you may not fully understand, you do not shy away from. Abandoned, depressing, grey, silent, and tainted, with any attempt at growing any beneficial so horrendously thwarted. Your existence is so thoroughly incomprehensible, you have conceded to silent despair and accepted this madness as your way of life. Any attempt to seek help is met with karmic punishment, any thought of concealing it from the world only leads to self-destruction, any good intentions always backfire on you, and any thought of pursuing the ways of evil as an outlet frightens you. You are a fragile piece of glass, broken, repaired, broken, and repaired again until you are no longer recognizable.
"In short, you are this 'blasted heath', condemned to be abandoned and covered up beneath a dam for convenience's sake."
He closed his eyes and frowned.
"You don't want that to happen, do you? You don't want to be buried to protect everyone around you. Even if your soul is too hideous to look at, you still hold on, thinking that you still possess value, and that tomorrow will bring a better day."
His dark mood suddenly turned jovial.
"Good. That is good. Though your darkness is more muddy and grey than mine was, you still cling to that tiny light called hope. All you need is your own Abbe Faria to hold your hand and show you the way out of Hell. I will not be so presumptuous as to equate myself to such a revered man…"
His clothes shifted like living ink slathered all over his body.
"But I will not ignore such determination when I see it. You waited and hoped for long enough, and now your spirit has run dry, sinking into a quagmire of depression and hopelessness. It is time for the scale of Heaven to tip in your favor, and for the Hell controlling your mind to experience true terror."
His grin widened, and he began to chuckle darkly.
"Kuh… Kuh heh heh heh heh… If justice fails you, then vengeance will succeed in its stead!"
In the dark and dank cavern that was his makeshift chamber, Lobo's resting head suddenly perked up. A strange chill coursed through his entire body, as if there was some sort of impending danger looming over him. Yet, he had never experienced this sort of threat from any of the human hunters who attempted to end his reign of terror on Currumpaw Valley. It just seemed too… different. His instincts told him that someone was trying to invade his territory. Lobo couldn't ignore this inexplicable sensation and decided to go outside to investigate. Hessian, ever the silent subordinate, followed the giant wolf, though couldn't help but feel something was off with Lobo's behavior. The wolf would never leave the safety and silence of his cavern unless their Master called for them, or something was seriously amiss.
It didn't take long before the pair noticed a small figure rushing through the far end of the hallway. Lobo's fur stood tall on his skin, and he hunched into a fighting stance while unleashing a guttural growl. The weird presence emanated from the little human, and he didn't want to let it get away. Without waiting for Hessian to board his back, Lobo sprinted towards the other end, then pursued the child Servant before she could get away.
To Lobo's surprise however, he soon lost sight of her. She was much faster than he ever anticipated. She probably didn't want anyone to see her in such a frantic state. Despite this, he remembered her scent. No matter how far she ran, he would always catch up to her eventually. He recalled this scent as belonging to the timid purple-haired kid who brought him that sweet and earthy confection. What was she doing running around in such a panic? He wasn't sure, nor did he care to find out. He wanted to deal with this unknown 'invader' as soon as possible.
"Shit!" Cuchulainn cursed as he dashed through Chaldea's entire facility. He skidded to a stop at an intersection and looked around. "She's just too damn quick!"
"Should we split up?" Touta asked.
"Probably. Someone has to have spotted her by now."
"Ya think she'll attack some other Servant?" Izo wondered.
"I dun think so," Earp told him. "I saw the light in the lil' missy's eyes. She wide 'wake an makin' a beeline from us."
"Why would she run 'way from us?"
"Knowin' 'er, she's prolly tryin' t'keep 'er distance so she dun 'ttack anyone needlessly."
Da Vinci caught up to them, then said, "Let's hope you're right. Having to heal Lucius' wounds and repair the simulator is bad enough. I dread to think what would happen if she went nuts on any other Servant while in the facility, or even if one of the staff ran into her while she's like this."
As the group struggled to figure out how to split themselves up, that was when they heard a loud wolf's cry emanating from the hallway up ahead.
"WOOO~OOO~OOO! WOOO~OOO~OOO!"
After some more running around, they discovered Hessian and Lobo standing in front of the summoning chamber's doors. The latter kept barking, his steel-colored fur practically standing on edge.
"That's odd. Why is Lobo here, of all Servants?" Da Vinci wondered.
Cuchulainn approached the howling canine and demanded, "Hey! Is Connla in there!?"
"Woof!"
"Gh… Okay, guys. I'm gonna open the door. Stay on your guard, big guy. For whatever reason, she's gone berserk, and I don't want her to escape again."
"Hrrrgh…"
"Dun worry, fellas. She ain't slippin' past me 'gain, even if I gotta shoot 'er legs t'stop 'er," Earp assured as he brandished his pistol.
"Let's pray it doesn't come to that…" the Celtic spearman shuddered.
With that, Cuchulainn pushed the button to open the doors. They slid apart, revealing Chaldea's summoning system known as FATE. Here, Mash Kyrielight's shield could be repurposed as a method of calling forth new Servants, so long as specific objects and small treasures known as Saint Quartz were used as catalysts. Mash was not present though, so her shield was not set in the chamber. If one wanted to summon a Servant without her shield, they would have to undergo a lengthy ritual to achieve it.
None of them paid any attention to the device though. To their collective shock and relief, they finally found Connla sprawled on her side, completely exhausted of her energy. Cuchulainn cried out her name and ran up to see if she was okay. After confirming that her pulse and breathing were normal, he picked up her and proceeded to take her to the infirmary. Medb caught up to the group, and the Celtic queen asked, "Did you find her?"
"Yeah, she's passed out," Cuchulainn told her. "I don't know what happened, but I think she's back to her senses thanks to the lad's Command Spell. Just to be safe, I'm going to shackle her with some Runes so she doesn't go crazy on us again."
He did so, binding Connla's arms, legs and hands with some sigils that prevented her from moving around too much in her sleep. During this time, Da Vinci examined the console attached to the summoning chamber.
"… Oh my," she soon uttered in surprise.
"What be the matter, madam?" Earp wondered.
"This is weird. Apparently a Servant was summoned just now."
"What?" Touta frowned hard. "Isn't that impossible without Master around?"
"Not just without Ritsuka, but also lacking a catalyst."
"You sure you're not reading that wrong?"
"Don't insult me! A genius of high caliber like myself would never make such an elementary mistake! The log even says it right here! Look!"
The Archer did so, and he too couldn't deny that the FATE system had been activated while Connla was unconscious inside the chamber for those few short minutes. Izo raised an eyebrow, then asked, "I dun get what's goin' on 'ere, but if yer sayin' there's a new Servant, shouldn't they be loiterin' 'round Chaldea by now?"
"Scruffy's got a point," Medb remarked as she put her hands on her hips. "There should be someone new wandering around as we speak. Maybe we should go look for them."
"I may be 'clined to 'gree with ya, but I ain't likin' the way yer callin' me funny names like that."
"Feisty, aren't we? Not that I mind, of course. Eh he he he… If Cu's a gallant wolf asserting his dominance, then you're a cute widdle black Pomeranian yapping for attention. Sometimes it's the smaller ones that wind up being appealing to a refined lady such as myself."
"D'ya want me t'cut ya, woman!?"
"Oh my. I have a hard time telling if you're supposed to be an easy catch or a tough nut to crack. Maybe you spending a night in my chambers would help clear up that mystery."
Before their argument could spiral out of control, Cuchulainn shouted, "Enough screwing around already! Anyway, I'm taking the kid to see Roman. You guys will have to sort out this mystery Servant business on your own."
"No prob, pardner," Earp gave him a two-finger salute like he was shooting an imaginary gun. "We'll see what we can do on our end. We be trustin' the lassie t'ya, got it?"
"Yeah, I got it."
As Cuchulainn left the summoning chamber, Lobo and Hessian began to follow him in silence. The Celt stared at them curiously, then asked, "Are you guys tagging along?"
"Wruf!" Lobo barked in the affirmative.
"I heard about how the kid wandered into your room before. I guess she was being possessed then as well, wasn't she?"
"Hrrr…"
"Well, do whatever you want. Just don't get in my way."
"Grrrrgh."
"Yeesh. I've already got enough on my plate, worrying about how I'm going to explain all of this to Alter. I don't need you going for my throat either, okay? We don't want a repeat of how I killed old man Culann's guard hound."
"…"
The nostalgic aroma of chopped meat and vegetables simmering in a thick savory sauce wafted through the Pierce residence. Beef stew, buttered bread, and milk were on the menu for this calm evening. While the main dish bubbled away in a crock pot, the young woman sat at the dining table going through the notes she took during her work for the day. Everything seemed dull and uneventful, until…
Knock, knock, knock.
"Hm?" the woman murmured curiously. She wasn't expecting any guests. In fact, she never had plans to interact with anyone who lived in Arkham. She worried that the villagers were too closed off from the rest of the world, and thus inherently fearful of outsiders who had the gall to barge in and disrupt their humble lifestyle with their modern technologies and ways of life. She certainly didn't want to be the cause of such disruptions, so she decided to keep her distance from anyone save Pierce in case she needed anything from the market.
That was why she grew perplexed from hearing someone knocking on the front door. She wondered if one of the neighborhood children heard about her coming here and wanted to pull a prank on her. With the stew still in the process of cooking, she had some time to investigate. Although hesitant, she took in a deep breath and approached the door, then gently turned the knob and opened it wide.
The first thing she noticed was that the person on the other side was way too tall and gaunt to be a mere child. His tired crimson eyes gazed upon her, languidly inspecting her facial features like an appraiser judging the value of a mysterious piece of art. Despite his obviously unfriendly demeanor, he was impressively handsome, wearing his long greyish hair in a low ponytail and donning a black coat with a capelet, a white cravat pinned with glistening violet diamond brooches, and a white undershirt with high-class gloves. The woman was slightly taken aback by how regal this fellow appeared. Maybe not on the level of a king or a prince, but perhaps he was a duke or a count of some stature? What in the world could someone like him be doing way out in this neglected wasteland in the middle of Massachusetts, and to see a common inspector like her no less?
The first thing out of the gentleman's mouth was a rather brusque question:
"Are you the surveyor dispatched from Boston?"
"Huh?" she uttered. She swallowed to regain her composure, then said, "Y-Yes, I am."
"Good. I'm not too late."
"Um…"
"Well? How long do you plan on keeping me out in the heat like this?"
"Oh! Yes, of course! Please come inside, sir. I was just making dinner."
Despite this abrupt turn of events, she allowed the well-dressed man to sit on the most comfortable chair in the living room. He didn't say anything, opting to keep his eyes focused on her as she chopped some vegetables for a quick salad. His gaze practically bored into her soul, as if he didn't want her to escape from his vigilant watch. She grew increasingly uncomfortable with this sudden arrangement, but she didn't want to offend someone who was potentially from the upper echelons of society.
"Um…" she murmured uneasily. "I-I didn't make enough food for two people, but you could have it if you want. I'll be fine with a big bowl of salad."
"That's all right," the man said. "I did not come all this way to do something as banal as hoard another's meal."
"Then… what might you be doing here? And, um… I don't believe I've heard your name yet, sir…"
"Hmph. Are you always this timid? I can't converse with someone if they cannot keep their wits together."
"…"
"Oh well. I suppose it's partly my fault for barging into this story as an unwelcome guest."
The woman had no clue what he was talking about. She quietly blurted, "… Story?"
The gentleman sat back and folded his arms. "Never mind that. Let's just say I heard about the strange cases surrounding Arkham, and of your assignment to investigate the residents' claims."
"Are you another surveyor from Boston like I am?"
"No. Call me a backer, if you want."
"A backer… As in a financial contributor?"
"Precisely."
Now things were starting to make sense for the woman. If someone wealthy was donating money to the city's engineering schools where she studied, it was a given that such an investor would want to see that something meaningful was being done with such capital. Maybe this man looked through the log books of Boston's surveyors and decided to observe her current case, especially since so many strange things had been happening in the last few years around the Arkham area.
And yet… it just didn't seem that simple to her. She was most worried when he said he was 'not too late'. Too late for what, exactly? Was he in a rush to stop her before she could investigate any further? Did he come here with a message from Boston? Was he here to pick her up and bring her back to the city?
"Heh heh," the gentleman chuckled, as if reveling in her obvious confusion. "You must have a lot of questions on your mind."
"I can't help it. I wasn't expecting to have any visitors."
"Always be prepared for life to meddle with your plans."
"I suppose so," she glanced away with uncertainty, yet couldn't deny the wisdom behind his words.
"Well now. I do believe an introduction is in order," he said. "You may refer to me as Edmond."
"Mr. Edmond…" the woman closed her eyes and thought back to the names of several influential politicians, corporate executives, and celebrities who endorsed the university. No one with the name Edmond stuck out in her mind though, so she grew more and more perplexed with his presence.
"That's right. Now tell me who you are."
"I'm… I'm, uh…"
For some reason, a name never came to her. How could that be? How could she be living her entire life without knowing her own identity?
"I knew it," the gentleman interrupted her reverie. "Though the story may focus on you, your role is so generic that you were deemed not worthy of being given a name. Not surprising, considering you're supposed to be an outsider looking in on the strange phenomenon wasting this rural village away into obscurity. That is how your character in the original story behaved as well."
There he went again, talking about 'stories' and 'roles'. What was she supposed to say to that?
Edmond frowned, then said, "But that is neither here or now. You'll have to excuse the intrusion, but I'm going to remain here for the duration of your stay. I wish to see how you perform your work for myself, and behold this so-called 'blasted heath' for myself."
The young woman gulped nervously. "I… I don't think that's a good idea…"
"That will be for me to decide. Now, enough prattling. Is our meal ready?"