"Soul appears damaged, scorched. Reckless, dangerous and fatally curious." The Presiding Deviless, the Carillon Compendium.
The Presiding Deviless leads the Phantom Thieves away from the centre. The path they take is low and loamy, a narrow trail below the shoreline and obscured from view, away from the red lights of central Carillon. The further they descend, the warmer the air grows. Ferns and foliage begin to brush against their legs, denser the closer they get to their destination.
"The next stop is near the Garden of Insatiable Roses. It is where our guests come to cure themselves of stains in their soul and is one of the three most intense locations on the facility. Access to this garden is heavily restricted, so the display is set outside of the garden. It replaces the central heating, which we haven't needed since. We advise discretion. Those who cross boundaries too often are taught here that those limits have meaning. There are things the human mind isn't meant to comprehend, truths that sear and scar. We can remove the stain, but we cannot mend that which is missing pieces."
They stop at a fence. A glance sideward reveals a mass of worms devouring scientific charts and documents. Sometimes, a hunk of Shadow leaks from the pile and seeps into the ground.
This catches the attention of the Bereaved Navigator, who has barely parted from the group to catch a glimpse of what lay before a hand fell to her shoulder like a heavy flame.
"Don't stray from the tour. It wouldn't do to have your soul similarly stained." There was a hint of threat in the Deviless' voice. She turned, removing her hand from the Navigator with a warning glare.
"That pile of compost," the Deviless said, once certain all were paying attention and not wandering off, "Holds the sort of material that leads to soul-staining. Secrets that twist the minds of those who learn them, ideas that corrupt and burn."
"How long is this freaking tour anyways?!" The Straightforward Sprinter complained. Others shared similar sentiments, but kept their patience.
The Deviless regards the Sprinter with a flat stare, leaving a pointed silence before answering. "I answered this already. Seven. Seven stops, then to see the soul itself. We only open the chamber at the end of the tour. The staff find it revolting to be in its presence."
"That must be the Treasure!" The Ambitious Felinoid exclaims in private to the others.
The Sprinter sighs. "Why does his Palace have to be so long and boring?"
The Percipient Artist answers first. "One could surmise that it's related to his distortion..."
"What would that even symbolize?" The Compassionate Model asks, "That he thinks Palaces should be long and boring?"
"No matter what he thinks, we're here to change his heart." The Grieving Heiress seems to believe that doing so would bring justice for her father.
The Dualized Gymnast held her tongue. She didn't agree with the Phantom Thieves' methods, but she knew very little of the situation, and didn't think it her place to contradict the Grieving Heiress. She came because she knew they needed help. But was this manner of helping the right thing to do?
"Think you guys can distract her?" The Bereaved Navigator asks. "I'm getting Shadow readings from that pile. I wanna check it out."
The Rebellious Trickster offered to accompany her.
"No, they'd be more focused on you," the Diligent Strategist reminded. She was certain that the owner of this place had a strong fixation on their leader. "You'd be the better distraction. I'll go with her."
The Trickster acquiesced, though reluctant. He strode up to the Presiding Deviless and caught her attention.
She stopped, having brought the group further down near the edge of a cave. The inside of the cave glowed with a warm light. She looked at the source of the interruption. "What is it?"
Is all this pomp and ostentation necessary for one soul, he asks. Seven different displays each of a particular flaw seems a bit much.
"Carillon has seven treatment methods, one for each type of flaw. The tour is meant for educational purposes. The dissection of this one lifetime provides example of each of these types. The soul itself is the first to come into our hands in possession of all seven, each equally impossible to treat. Though damages vary, we here have determined ways to categorize any problem of the soul into one or more of the seven flaws. The truth is self-evident when you know what this place is." The Presiding Deviless' expression remains carefully neutral.
The Rebellious Trickster could respond to this in a number of ways. He could feign ignorance of the location, pretending to have never stepped foot in any place of this make. He could recite what he knew of Carillon from watching, speaking of the strange supernatural phenomena he'd seen here. Or he could peel away at the mask of Carillon and see what consequences lie in wait for him and the others.
Perhaps the entire place would shift, turning to a more familiar sort of location. A place with battle, stealth, and danger, alarms from which to hide, traps to evade, security to deactivate. But their Navigator was disadvantaged here, many things beyond her normally impeccable sight. The Phantom Thieves relied on her senses and insight, but their target had proven able to evade them before. It would be an unwise risk, especially now, with two of the group separated.
Feigning ignorance would likely annoy the Presiding Deviless, but it might prompt her to speak more of what Carillon was meant to be. She seemed willing enough to lecture.
Speaking of what he knew and observed would allow the opportunity for him to ask more questions.
This is Carillon, he responds. A place where all souls can be restored save for one. The Deviless was taking them on this tour so that they could see what had happened. The Trickster asks why there's so little mention of the treatments attempted. Would that not be relevant to the tour?
"He failed, refused, or rejected every attempt to help. Anosognosia is common in those with certain flaws, especially those of flickering soul." She would say more, but she's interrupted.
The unfamiliar term confused the sprinter. "The hell is anosognosia? What do noses have to do with any of this?"
The Presiding Deviless turns her gaze to the Straightforward Sprinter. The pause as she locks her sight onto him is longer than the last. "It's a dreadful condition we hope none of you have to face. It has nothing to do with noses."
The Grieving Heiress gives the Sprinter a reminder. "So far, none of the conditions they've talked about here actually exist in reality. I don't know what anosognosia is, but it probably doesn't matter right now. We can check to see if it means anything after we leave." The group had no access to their usual sources of information here.
The Compassionate Model has a question to ask those present, barring the Deviless. "Do you think that she'll show her true form if she gets annoyed enough?"
The Ambitious Felinoid makes a face. "Let's... not try that for now. You should stop asking her questions, Skull."
"Hey, don't single me out! She gave Fox that look too." This is entirely true.
The Percipient Artist defends himself. "It was an important question."
Frankly, all of their questions are equally important, each signifying something they did not know but wanted to. Even if the questions themselves are idiotic. But the Phantom Thieves ensured that the Presiding Deviless would not hear their private communications, only that which was directed to her. As such, the Trickster continues to draw her attention. He asks about the penitents as the Bereaved Navigator and Diligent Strategist silently rejoin the group, the mission an apparent success.
The Bereaved Navigator had gone over to the decomposing pile and inspected it. Not much could be read, but she believed she saw something involving "cognition" and "adjustment." Before she could actually start reading a report on some sort of test, the mass of Shadow had suddenly coalesced, sending her and the Strategist into battle. Though it was not easy, their cooperation overcame the monster and it was defeated. But as the Shadow disappeared, the papers were nowhere to be found, as the monster was made from their contents. Uncertain of this, the Navigator looked to the other side of the fence. She thought she caught a glimpse of a bespectacled dark-haired woman cracking something open, but the Strategist distracted her, telling her that they should return to the others before their absence was noticed. When she looked back, she only saw the Pathetic Councillor and the devils that populated Carillon. When asked about her reaction, the Bereaved Navigator admitted that she thought she saw her mother. The Strategist shared the thought that if she had, all this indicated was that their target remembered at least some of the victims.
Once they rejoined, the Deviless was answering the Rebellious Trickster's question. "All the penitents you see in our facilities are simply those who come to mend their souls. I assumed you already knew why they are here." She had mentioned why penitents had come. "At the Garden of Insatiable Roses, which we'd passed on the way here, those with stained souls come to remove their stains." The Deviless had already said this, but a reminder may have been necessary after the interruption. "Staining is caused by exploring what should not be explored, things that humans aren't meant to know. Things such as how to warp reality to match one's delusions or to forcibly change the personality of another. The erasure of souls. When mortals tread on territory even gods should avoid. Even the language of suns does not cause such damage when used responsibly."
Everyone present knows of the Pathetic Councillor and his research. The Dualized Gymnast herself is one of his victims. Their own personal experiences makes this particular flaw feel more definite to them, clear-cut. If the Pathetic Councillor's actions are signs of a stained soul, then staining is certainly the most dangerous flaw. The other two flaws they'd seen thus far didn't seem to have the potential to annihilate all of humanity's will.
"The language of the suns is what we employ here. Seven pieces of the Correspondence, carefully measured and spaced. A responsible use of a dangerous art to demonstrate the limits and what comes of those who break them. Much can be accomplished without risking the damage seen in stained souls, but that doesn't stop the worst of them. To them, what should be a warning is instead an invitation. And thus, they ask questions that stain with answers that burn." With this ominous note, the Presiding Deviless leads them, finally, into the glowing cave.
The cave is warm. Clean and bright as it is, it seems more of an oddly-shaped room than a cave. Each sigil is covered by thick, dark glass. The sigils themselves seem to be made of fire, radiating heat and glowing strongly even from behind the glass. Each is intricate, carefully carved into the stone, rarely larger than a full hand-span. The language is unfamiliar, but the meanings are felt nonetheless. Together, they form a name, an epithet, an identity.
"Don't touch the glass. It's hot," The Deviless warns, as the Sprinter raises his hand in front of the nearest sigil. He withdraws it quickly.
The heat from the cave is vented upwards to warm the rest of the facility, creating a hot breeze. The air is dry. Beneath each sigil, below the glass, careful script. A translation, though perhaps not the most accurate. Each sigil stands roughly equidistant from those nearest, spaced out oddly along the cave walls.
The Percipient Artist is fascinated. "The language of the suns...?!" He stares, seeking comprehension. The group explore the cave.
The Correspondence sigil directly left of the cave mouth is subtitled "Revenge for One's Own Existence." The symbol blazes with fury, a letter that loops around itself and holds thin lines radiating outwards and inwards simultaneously. Nobody chooses to start existing or return to existing once extinguished. Choice requires volition, which requires at least some manner of existence beforehand. The choices that bring about existence can be vile, and some sins are unforgivable. This sigil represents a choice made, a response to an existence that should not be. The result is destruction. A mark of the past or a mark of the present? Both. Councillor or Representative, neither are exempt.
Close to the ground lies as sigil marked with the words "A Weapon That Exists but for One Purpose, to be Thrown Away After That Use." Two people believed that weapon was only theirs to use, each having a different purpose in mind for it. Both fully intended to discard it. The weapon itself was one of these two. The symbol bears the meaning of a weapon which uses and discards itself, even while another attempts to do the same. All weapons exist for the same purpose: to harm. Axes can fell trees, spears can be used as flag-posts or poles. But to find use outside of battle, a sword will be broken or recast. Destroyed.
Those two are the simplest, the easiest to comprehend.
A blazing mark that consists of a straight line with curves that form an incomplete oval and dots on either side holds this label: "A Breaking Point from Which There is No Return." The simple truth is that there are some damages that cannot be mended, actions that cannot be undone. There is a game where the action called a "break" is what starts everything. The position of every piece is determined then, thus deciding the difficulty of the game. Though the act of breaking, the first move, is simple, the possible outcomes are infinite. It is possible for the entire game to be decided with that initial move, no matter how subsequent turns are taken. Every decision holds consequence, but some consequences are more permanent than others. The breaking point here does not literally involve cues, balls, and pockets. When an egg is cracked, it cannot be mended. Once denatured, it cannot return to its natural state. A mind cracked open by slender hands, its yolk dissected and whites stretched out. Albumen and phosvitin, lysozyme and transferrin, avidin and biotin. What makes the yolk yellow? What makes the whites clear? What separates the mind and heart? What separates the brain and self? What happens when the separation is removed, when the yolk is broken? A single thought denatured changes little among hundreds and thousands. Two is much the same, as is three and four. At what point is the egg cooked? Nothing added or removed, contained completely within itself, yet irrevocably changed.
The surface elements of a spiral, pulled into a loop, twisted into another arcane letter on the cave wall. The inscription reads either "To be Controlled by that Which You Control," or "To Control by that Which Controls You." It's hard to tell when the sigil's heat and light makes the eyes water. It brings to mind a sail that does not only capture the wind, but changes the direction from which it blows. A puppet holding its own strings. A machine that programs itself. A dog pulling itself with its own leash. Similarly, it brings to mind a sailboat colliding into a rocky shore, a puppet too entangled to move, a fatal error that causes a total shutdown, the dog reluctantly dragging itself along. A self-made tragedy, but none can honestly call it an accident. A pursuit that defies reasonable and sensible limits is a freedom that leads to self-destruction. Confined by freedom. Freed by confinement.
Another sigil is asymmetrical in a disfigured attempt to mimic symmetry. A side burns hotter than the other. "The Betrayal and Division of the Self" is its title. What else could the act of tearing out and destroying part of oneself to wear as a mask be called? The Ambitious Felinoid once remarked with shock that their target could use two separate powers. This assessment, like many others he'd made, was incorrect. Not that the cat could be wholly blamed, as up until then, he'd only seen the power of the self as the Phantom Thieves used it. Willpower made manifest in the world of thought. He had no reason to even consider that such a thing could be torn in two. An uneven split. The other side might as well be an imitation, a memory, a mockery, for all that it's worth. In this soul, anger and hatred are supreme as one who abandoned healing. The death of a mother as a piece in a plot seeking vengeance for the death of a mother. To discard the justice of others for the sake of one's own justice. Lies to protect one's own truth.
"To Deliberately Rearrange One's Own Cognition in Order to Remodel One's Palace" is obviously self-referential. Even if the meanings of every other symbol is lost, this one is definitive proof of what Carillon considers staining. As manifestations of subconscious distortion, Palaces as the Phantom Thieves know them are not normally controlled by the humans who have them. Cannot be controlled by anyone under any sort of normal circumstance. It should be clear by now that the ability to do so to any extent is a product of delving into a dread science, the same type of knowledge the Pathetic Councillor uses to destroy free will. The meaning of a stained soul should thus be completely apparent to each of the Phantom Thieves. No Palace would naturally produce Carillon on its. They don't know the limits of this ability, or if there even are limits.
The largest sigil seems to come in five parts, perhaps five combined to make a new sigil, or five that serves as a singular whole. The glass is at least a foot thick, reinforced to be truly impenetrable. It does not sear. It merely glows. Its inscription: "Behind the engine room door." When the Deviless is out of sight, the Rebellious Trickster touches the glass. It feels like steel beneath his bright red glove.
The Dualized Gymnast does not understand the inscription of the largest symbol. She thinks it would be better inscribed something else. But from the recognition on the others' faces, it seems to be yet another thing she missed. Another exclusion. She doesn't ask. Instead, she watches the Rebellious Trickster, wondering what thoughts lie behind his black and white mask. Of all present, he's the one who knows the most about their target, yet he's said little about what this place means to him, if it means anything in particular to him at all.
"Words of flame, elegant in form and rich in meaning. What matters do the suns speak that needs such words? How do they pen these celestial letters?" The Percipient Artist has many thoughts of the sigils of the Correspondence.
"Forget that! He can control his Palace?" The Ambitious Felinoid is very startled at this revelation, finding it far more important than any artistic value of the Correspondence.
The Diligent Strategist is not so startled. "That's how it changed in the first place, isn't it?"
"If he's controlling his Palace, then why would he make it... like this?" The Compassionate Model already didn't understand Carillon, and now that the possibility that it was structured with intent had surfaced, she questioned the reason for its structure.
The Grieving Heiress comes to the most obvious conclusion. "Maybe this is just what he wants us to see."
"That doesn't make any sense," the Sprinter complains, "I mean... look at this place. The only reason why anyone would make any of this on purpose would be to confuse us."
"That might be exactly what he's trying to do," the Bereaved Navigator points out, "Maybe it's all just... one big distraction."
The Gymnast doesn't believe this makes sense, but hasn't been told enough of the situation to feel confident in voicing that belief.
The Trickster asks the Navigator if she can sense their target at all.
She shakes her head. "Still nothing. No idea where the Ruler is either."
Before the Presiding Deviless decides that they'd browsed the weird fire words for long enough, the group convenes to decide whether to continue the tour... or force the Presiding Deviless to show her true form.
"There seems to be a lot to learn even from this setup," the Navigator mentions. She votes to continue the tour.
"Isn't he just going to lead us around in circles if we let him?" The Sprinter votes against.
"Does not seeing his choice to shape the land provide insight into his true nature?" The Artist votes in favour of the tour.
"We're here to steal his heart. I don't want to keep seeing this performance." The Heiress votes to stop following the tour.
"I don't think we're going to get much done doing what our tour guide is telling us to." The Strategist makes the third vote against.
"But the soul's got to be the Treasure, isn't it?" the Felinoid asks, "If he has that much control over this place, the tour might be the only way to get to it." He's in favour of the tour.
"Neither option really sounds good... I mean... If he controls everything here, it seems like the only way we could get to the Treasure would be if he wanted us to." The Model votes against the tour.
The Dualized Gymnast didn't expect a vote, but is given the opportunity regardless. "...I don't think he controls everything here. And... I want to see what this tour can show us." A vote in favour of the tour.
That makes four voting to the continue the tour, four against.
Eight pairs of eyes turn to the Trickster.
"...Guess I'm the tiebreaker, huh?"
The AO3 version has an image for the last sigil.
So instead? You're getting the translation.
Center: The Sensation of Having Carried Out a Painstaking Task for No Particular Reason
Up: One Fateful Event that Depends on Countless Others
Down: The Improbable Collusion of Two Unrelated Perils
Right: A Mistake, Forged into a Triumph
Left: The Revelation That Uncertainty is Itself an Answer