Fictions Mentioned:
Episode 2
OP Song:
Theme of the Week #8 - Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker Main Theme
Insert Song: Start
Broken Memory - Corpse Party: Blood Drive Music Extended
PART 1
"...Onii-chan."
A trembling, soft voice. A reassuring voice amidst the darkness. A thought that was so sweet and caring. It was a far cry from the girl dyed in red. The girl dyed in white - Sachiko Shinozaki - would smile reassuringly and with care at her beloved onii-chan who was hurting. She wanted to embrace him, and so she did.
"...!"
A warm embrace. An embrace that spoke of a delicate and wonderful meaning. Of a past that was forgotten, but never goes away, only this time, the feeling of a familial sense of love that echoed throughout the decades. Touma Kamijou felt such an embrace. And his eyes widened as he recalled a fraction of his past. Of a time that happened in Night Baron's world.
A flashback to the past. It was April 28th, 1952. Ever wondered what it was like growing up in Japan sometime in the 50s? That was surely a tough time for a Japanese citizen to live through. It was not so much of a tough time as one would think. Japan was currently undergoing the so-called "economic miracle".
After Japan surrendered in 1945, ending World War II, Allied forces led by the United States occupied the nation, bringing drastic changes. Japan was disarmed, its empire dissolved, its form of government changed to a democracy, and its economy and education system reorganized and rebuilt. Years of reconstruction were required to recover from thousands of air raids, including the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. By the 1950s, a former enemy became a Western ally, parts of American culture became part of the Japanese landscape - and Japan began to find its economic footing as a manufacturer of consumer devices and electronics.
Right now, it was a very big day. A significant fact of history. This is to be the date wherein the Occupation of Japan would finally cease to be as part of the Treaty of San Francisco that was signed on September 8th, 1951. General Douglas MacArthur had already made a sweeping change in the SCAP power structure that greatly increased the power of Japan's native rulers even as the occupation had drawn to a close.
In the city of Tenjin, a city located a few kilometers away from Tokyo, people were wearing all types of clothing ranging from business suits to kimonos, and were going about their daily lives, many of which relate to the festivities. Among the crowd, there were three people. One of them was Touma Kamijou. He appeared to be an eleven-year-old boy at this time, wearing a simple light blue robe kimono that was handmade, with simple brown sandals protecting his feet. On his right hand, he held the little hand of one Sachiko Shinozaki. She was wearing a white kimono, appearing like a little princess who was being escorted by her knight, and she was humming with joy.
Someone was holding Touma's left hand. A young woman with black hair tied in a bun and black, motherly eyes. She was smiling at Touma and her daughter. Yoshie Shinozaki. For Touma, ever since she found him, she had been a mother figure for him too.
Like any family, they walk down the streets, seeing the townspeople of Tenjin celebrating along with the rest of the nation due to the eventual finality of independence that they had longed for. A new twilight of an era was slowly becoming apparent.
The 50s were a very important period in the history of this world. One could call this decade an entire season's worth of change. It was a time when the mysterious and the arcane, the extradimensional, extrasensory, and extraordinary were slowly coming out of the shadows. A time of transition in a world that was still largely healing due to the aftermath of a world war, the likes of which most would never like to be repeated ever again.
"...Sachi."
Touma could not help but mutter as his mind flashes back to the present moment. A warm embrace from his adoptive little sister who was all grown up. His eyes were teary, and both of his arms slowly embraced the young woman who was always smiling for him. Everyone was quiet. Touma's fellow companions and the Doctor were respectfully silent, content in watching while keeping a lookout for any sign of danger. The other girls were also silent, for they could not speak at what was a long-awaited family reunion.
"...Sachi," Touma, after a few moments of savoring the embrace, would move his face a little, looking at the face of the girl dyed in white who kept smiling at him. A pure smile that was a treasure for his heart that cooled down. "...I don't understand..."
"...I missed you, onii-chan," Sachiko held her embrace firmly. "I missed you ever since you left. Otou-san and okaa-san missed you."
"...Wha...What happened to them?" Touma asks, recalling the Shinozaki parents with a heavy heart.
"...They passed away peacefully, onii-chan, many years ago," Sachiko smiled sadly.
Touma's eyes were leaking tears as his heart ached. His adoptive parents were gone. Such words made him grieve as he raised his right hand towards his forehead.
"Onii-chan, as much as I do not want to let go and as much as I want to tell you how I'm here, we must nevertheless still be vigilant," Sachiko softly spoke as she looked at all of them. "There are dark forces at work here, and we must act quickly and decisively if we are to prevail against them."
"...Shinozaki-san, correct?" Conan would step forward, sporting a grim expression. "Forgive me for being cautious, but considering we just saw someone who looked just like you, despite my glasses detecting a different type of energy signature compared to before, I cannot help but question your timing."
"I had to keep my arrival a secret, detective," Sachiko said. But inwardly, she mentally communicated to Conan with her mind. "("Night Baron.")" That was the word that made Conan widen her eyes a little, hearing the name from his thoughts as well as the thoughts of most of the companions who also heard of it, and sharing with them a little brief history from memory lane of her relation to Touma's past.
"I have knowledge that you all need to hear, something that concerns the fates of our worlds, and the future," Sachiko would say with a grim expression. "All of you, please come with me, there is something that I need you all to see."
Sachiko would slowly let go of Touma's embrace. She would raise her right hand as some kind of colorless swirling portal appeared to open. Touma, after glancing at his companions and the Doctor, would follow next. Then, everybody else, even if some were unsure of what to make of this, decided to leave the hallway, with the Doctor being the last one who would glance around from left to right with narrowed eyes before eventually leaving out of the hallway.
The portal would close, leaving only a deserted hallway.
"...Uaaagh."
Or it was supposed to be.
A few moments later, there appeared to be slow-walking decayed corpses, with varying torn clothes, that would appear in the hallway. They appeared to look dead, for they were such. A viral plague would plunge beneath their veins. Their souls were long gone, and they only left decayed bodies that had a penchant for human flesh.
This realm - Heavenly Host - an accursed multidimensional nexus point, whose influence was spreading far and fast, had dragged these creatures from another world where everything went to hell. Society collapsed. More than half of the world was gone. Everything else became part of the living dead. The souls of these creatures were no more, only the virus, with the letter T.
The White Sachiko would lead them to a different dimension, a few yards relative away from their last location.
"Here."
She muttered with a solemn tone. And everyone else beheld something that they could not expect. Gasps of shock and horror were seen to etch on their faces. The Doctor narrowed his eyes as he looked at what he saw.
What they saw appeared to be a shrine of sorts. The shrine was full of many of these pictures that were pasted on the wall in an organized fashion. It felt like seeing the handiwork of a conspiracy theorist where there were all of these interconnected lines that seemed to diverge and converge on a single strand. All of them indicated not just Touma, but Conan, Kyon, Souta, and Lelouch. They were all in these pictures.
The companions recognized many people in these pictures. Friends and family, from different periods in their life and time. Conan would notice and recognize many of them, and he would note a couple of other people who were in these pictures.
"("Naho, Sayaka, Aiko?! And Kibiki-san and Taguchi-san?! Shiho and Ran?! Hattori?! Marika?! What's going on?!")" Conan thought grimly as he saw pictures of people he'd recognized. All of them were people he knew.
"What the..."
Touma could not help but look at some of the pictures. Some pictures' events he did not remember nor recognize. But he knows some of these faces at least, even if he never personally met these faces. His teeth gritted a little as he felt his head a little dizzy. He took note of a blonde individual and a brown-haired individual, wearing physical ed attire for middle school girls, and they appeared to be arguing. He was there, but the him from the picture looked like he was confused. The photo was taken in what appeared to be a festival happening.
"Misaki...and is that..."
"Misaka Mikoto," the Doctor grimly spoke while looking at the same picture. "A woman that you haven't met... yet that is."
"Hey, is that...us?" Seiko pointed toward one other picture that shows her, Naomi, and Yuka, along with a few other people. The picture they were looking at was the classroom where they and the few people in the picture would gather. But aside from that picture, there were other moments, even ones that were rather strange as Seiko, Naomi, and Yuka do not recall some of them happening.
"It is," Naomi spoke with a concerned expression. "But why...?"
"...This is odd," Lelouch narrowed his eyes as he spotted himself and some of the people he knew as well. He would look at Sachiko with a cautious expression. "These pictures, they aren't just taken randomly, are they? They show the past, our past."
"And... your future," Sachiko spoke with a mindful tone. She would walk forward in the hallway that was full of several pictures. The others would follow as they continued to look at the pictures pasted on the old, dilapidated, and cracked walls.
Sachiko explained. "Several, in fact. All of your lives, the five companions of the Lord of Time, to give an appropriate comparison, are likened to stories. Each story has a beginning, middle, and end. In between those three concepts, certain sides are either connecting or disconnecting. Each of your choices determines the routes you may or will take."
"And that includes pasts that never happened and futures that never were," the Doctor spoke with a concerned tone, looking at the pictures carefully and noting every person who was there.
"And presents that were never in sync," Sachiko continued.
"Sachi... what is all of this?" Touma asks his adoptive sister.
"Memories," Sachiko muttered softly. "Memories that converge, diverge, and appear whenever life and choices are to be met, taken through the use of spiritual thoughtography."
"Spiritual thoughtography," Conan muttered, narrowing his eyes. "A variant of thoughtography that the decease would use to produce photographic images that were burned from the memory."
"That is correct," Sachiko confirmed the explanation while speaking further. "As I have given some of you a share of a little of the memories, you should know that I am nothing like my counterpart in red whom you saw earlier. The situation is dire, for my counterpart has been travelling up and down and side all of your personal timelines, all five of you, Kamijou Touma, Edogawa Conan, Kyon, Mizushino Souta, and Lelouch Lamperouge."
The aforementioned persons would pay attention to Sachiko. Some, while still a little cautious like Conan and Lelouch, would at least be willing to hear things out before giving any verdict or conclusion.
"She had been waiting, quietly, learning almost everything about your lives. She knows who you all are, she knows how your stories begin and how your stories end, and she has taken advantage of this ability to move a few things along so that this precise outcome of her meeting all of you could be achieved. That includes what has been happening in the detective's world, where time seemingly is becoming unnaturally inconsistent in its dating."
"But how..." Touma could not help but ask. "...I...The Shinozaki Sachiko that I know was never that good at manipulating the timelines."
"Not before, no," Sachiko spoke grimly. "But now she does. Something has changed around this place ever since you left, onii-chan, and not in a fortunate way."
The more they walked, the more Touma would notice a strange line and pattern. Many interconnected lines. They all converge on at least three large-size pictures there were seen in the center hallway where two paths converge and other paths are seen. Touma was shaken as he and everyone else stopped walking. Everyone widened their eyes. All of the three large picture frames were crossed with a bloody red "X" and the faces were stabbed with knives.
What caught Touma's attention was at the center. Nine people. Each of whom was familiar to him. Old friends, a teacher, and one woman whom he loves the most, the woman he is currently wedded to for eternity. Touma paid close attention to the woman who was seen embracing Touma's left side and smiled gracefully, a hint of pure joy and affection despite the horrors and tribulations that she had experienced, and not even the bloody marks that insult her image could ever erase it, as if it were a sacred thing that is beyond even the darkness.
A young woman. She looked like she was somewhere around high school. Her appearance was petite compared to the average teenager. Her body was slender and elegant, invoking the ideal woman. Her hair was long, shades of azure and indigo. Her beautiful face exuded innocence that hid a tragedy, her eye shape was tareme, accentuating her cutesy features.
It is this image of the young woman were accursed words of blood like "BITCH!" and "WHORE" were seen painted as if like an addendum, expressing vile and malicious hatred. Touma could feel it as his eyes widened in horror. He could feel the same vibe that came forth from the girl dyed in red. He turns back to the girl dyed in white who only gave him a contrite expression.
"A birthday girl like Sachiko has a penchant if not twisted desire for company," the White Sachiko spoke in the third person. Her contrite expression spoke with a solemn tone. "A hysteric one, excitement, thrill, and a never-ending bitterness that never wants to waver. The corruption of Heavenly Host could no longer be contained by Sachiko or the Corpse Party event any longer."
"What do you mean? And what does this have to do with us?" Naomi asks, finally speaking out after being silent for a while.
White Sachiko looked at Naomi, along with Seiko and Yuka who were looking at her with confused and concerned expressions.
"It has everything to do with you, Nakashima-san. As I said before, my red counterpart had been waiting for this exact moment. For centuries, she had been trying to twist time, just a little, and a little is all that was needed to gain a precise response."
"The Ever After Charm," Conan explained, narrowing his eyes in understanding. "There was a specific purpose behind it than just merely dragging a few missing people off from my world and making time inconsistent, correct?"
"That's right," Sachiko nodded as she meaningfully looked at the three girls of Kisaragi. "You three, along with the rest of the nine who took part in a ritual to preserve your bond of friendship for eternity, was an event that became fixated through all time, meaning that no matter what the outcome, no matter what the timeline, the nine of Kisaragi Academy would end up here and meet a girl dyed in red, creating a loop that lasted for an uncountable aeon. My counterpart wanted to exploit that event, forcing it to happen in the detective's native timeline," Sachiko looks at Conan. "By making that event happen in your timeline, a timeline completely free from any influence and taint of Heavenly Host, Sachiko gained a foothold in said timeline, essentially breaking the chain, the cycle that imprisoned thousands and thousands of loop worlds, all of which crashed into what you now know to be Heavenly Host as of the current iteration."
"But for what other purpose?" Lelouch asks. "What does she gain from all of this besides her obvious vendetta against one of my friends who has a history with her?"
Sachiko sported a grim expression. "I have told you of the corruption that cannot be contained any longer. The origin lay upon something else. A darkness that is secretly imprisoned within Heavenly Host."
She looks at the Doctor who was listening the whole time. "My Lord Doctor," She addressed the Time Lord with respect. Then she glances at her beloved onii-chan and his fellow companions. "Everyone, do you all still remember the Dark Old Ones?"
The Doctor widened his eyes. He, as well as Touma and everyone else, gasps in shock and horror. The girls did not know how to react as they lacked the proper context.
"Umm," Kokuhaku muttered, not knowing what to say. "Dark Old Ones? What are those?"
"Something you do not want to meet, Akaboji-san," Souta muttered darkly, narrowing his eyes in worry.
"That's right," the Doctor sported a serious expression. "The Dark Old Ones were a specific loose pantheon of ultra-malevolent gods and devils. The power that they wielded was such that entire universes fell and crumbled in their wake and some even became their playthings. Legend has it that the moment a Dark Old One entered the normal reality, you could hear a massive amount of tortured screams echoing into the void, that was a sign that the normal reality had fallen. Many of the higher races, my people among them, formed an alliance of old, and so we stood and fought against them. Many, we've destroyed forever, some we've imprisoned, others escaped to survive in some way."
"And one of them is trapped here, in this accursed Nirvana," Sachiko spoke softly in a whisper, as if careful not to mention anything that would compromise their position. "I cannot say its true name, not here at the moment, for I would draw the attention of that dark power unto all of you."
"The power of a name means everything to a Dark Old One," the Doctor nodded in confirmation. "The very name that they each carry within binds them to a specific role, a specific characteristic, a specific line, giving them control over that particular concept."
"It is trying to break free once more, Lord Doctor, everyone, and it is using my failed counterpart to do it., empowering her in ways that she could never have been capable of before in the original cycles of this endless Nirvana. She is almost too far gone. Nothing could convince her to stop anymore. The Dark Old One who controls and empowers her is manipulating the negative mystical spectrum of her entire being, twisting her despair and using it, for she is the focal point of this realm. If anything happens to her, one way or another, the Dark Old One would be released from its prison."
"...Umm," Naomi, trying her best to follow this discussion. "...What exactly happens if this Dark Old One gets released?"
"...Then our world is doomed to an eternity of death and chaos," Sachiko muttered grimly, making Naomi and the rest of the girls shiver. "What you now see in Heavenly Host is but a mere fraction of the potential chaos it would wreak havoc upon your world. Your world is a natural multidimensional nexus point, and Heavenly Host is the foreign poison that would try to latch on to the nexus point, using it to spread its influence on countless other worlds, by the infinitude."
"...Wait," Touma muttered softly, putting his right hand to his head as a few blurry memories seemed to come back to him. "Sachi... You mean... All those times... All those times that I've been to this godforsaken place, all of those times where I had tried to stop it several times..."
"If you mean all of those times during the Endless Eternity, then that was the time when the Dark Old One took notice of you, onii-chan. You were a foreign invader that should never have intruded upon the cycle. The monster noticed you... and it had been watching you.. for a very long time..." Sachiko spoke carefully.
"Why?" Touma muttered, troubled.
"Because of your Imagine Breaker," Sachiko pointed towards his right hand. "If you used that on my other self, the seal will be broken, and the monster will be free."
The Imagine Breaker. Oftentimes, it can be said to be a double-edged sword. Yes, it protects its user from the supernatural, but it can also be used to break certain things that should not be broken. It was both a blessing and a curse.
"But, hold on," Touma spoke with a concerned tone. "Every time I touched Sachiko, the red one, she just disappeared temporarily most of the time, and at times even permanently which set off Heavenly Host like a bomb that exploded, killing me and..." Touma glances at the three girls of Kisaragi Academy and Kokuhaku. "...everyone else. But there was no eldritch abomination from before the dawn of time suddenly appearing out of the deep prison or anything like that."
"That was because of the seals, onii-chan," Sachiko spoke with a concerned tone. "The seals were put in place by an ancient civilization from long ago, one known as the Ancients, and they sealed the monster into this dark pit, condemn to forever rotting in its chains. There were hundreds and hundreds of thousands of seals. Each time you used your Imagine Breaker against my red counterpart, it was breaking little by little, until eventually... ...only ten seals remain."
Ten seals. Only ten seals left. Then it's game over.
"There's one thing I don't fully get," Kyon spoke with a grim tone, with arms crossed. "What exactly is your relation in all of this? Clearly you aren't the Sachiko that we saw with the red dress, you're someone else, and you also know about Touma-san and call him onii-chan too."
Sachiko smiled sadly. "I am simply the Shinozaki Sachiko that Kamijou Touma had successfully saved and spared from this misfortunate cycle while my counterpart is someone who does not. My counterpart is from an entirely different world that seems unnaturally cut off above the rest, one far too different from my own, a world where the public has no direct experience and contact with the supernatural and the extraordinary. A normal kind of world that is similar to yours, Kyon-san, but it is also different in some ways, for the supernatural does exist, but most people do not believe in it. Rationality, enlightenment, and personal views of exact science are what rule the common man."
"And what about the loops? I mean, you said that the event where Nakashima-san, Shinohara-san, Mochida-san, and their friends used the damn ritual had to happen in every timeline, but how, when did it first start, and what world of origin, because it had to start from somewhere?" Kyon asks.
"From a linear perspective, it is frankly impossible to determine, but if one were to look at time, say, backwards from how you view it, you would get the answer," Sachiko provided a hint.
"It's not just the fact that it's the first loop," Conan spoke, already guessing the answer. "It's the fact that the loop existed at all because something had to ensure its total existence. A certain person or object perhaps could have been inserted."
"And that certain person and certain object is required to create the first timeline where the loop would begin, the timeline where most elements from my native reality were expunged, leaving only precise elements that are to be allowed to come to be."
"...The Book of Shadows," Touma muttered, with a grimaced expression, recalling something from his blurry past. "That's the object... and the person would be..."
"Shinozaki Ayumi," Sachiko smiled sadly. "My second cousin once removed."
"Huh?! Ayumi-chan?!" Naomi sported a shocked expression.
Ayumi Shinozaki. She was a student and class representative of Kisaragi Academy Senior High's classroom 2-9, the same class as Naomi and Seiko. She was the one who proposed the idea of a ritual because one of their classmates, Mayu, would eventually have to transfer schools.
Conan narrowed his eyes upon hearing of the name.
"...Shinozaki Ayumi?"
He got everyone's attention.
"...Shinozaki-san, was this girl related to someone named Shinozaki Hinoe?"
"Eh?" Naomi sported a surprised look, same for the rest of the Kisaragi students.
"Hmm, that is right, Shinozaki Hinoe is Shinozaki Ayumi's older sister," Sachiko nodded.
Conan became very silent, his expression grim. Sachiko did not need to say anything else. She knew that Conan understood. The other companions and the Doctor noticed Conan being silent, and they could all commonly guess one thing. It would seem that Conan Edogawa, or was it Shinichi Kudo, or was it Night Baron, all had some connection with the Shinozaki Family.
"The events of the incident, of the friendship ritual between the nine individuals of Kisaragi Academy which consists of the following: Nakashima Naomi, Shinohara Seiko, Mochida Yuka, Mochida Satoshi, Kishinuma Yoshiki, Shinozak Ayumi, Suzumoto Mayu, Morishige Sakutaro, and Shishido Yui."
The aforementioned three, Naomi, Seiko, and Yuka, paid attention when Sachiko called out their names and the names of the people they knew.
"That event was the trigger, the catalyst, and through that one event, other iterations of the event happened, creating other parallel, disconnected, and complimentary narratives, and yet they all converge to tell one outcome, one story, one canon. The event happened in this separated first timeline, in the year 2008, which caused a ripple effect to occur from both past and future."
Sachiko would look at the three girls of Kisaragi.
"You three, have you not noticed something? If you still have some memories lingering that relate to onii-chan and other memories that seem inconsistent to you, it only proves one other thing, you all are experiencing a subtle time loop, first enacted the moment an insertion of a corruptible object (Book of Shadows) and the manipulation of the timelines allowed for the first (canon) timeline to be created, setting the sequencing chain to come back to now. This entire situation was ochestrated from the very start, all for the Dark Old One who is imprisoned in this domain, to eventually be free."
Sachiko would look at the Doctor and his companions.
"Lord Doctor, onii-chan, everyone, you should know one other thing relating to this situation. The Dark Old One who is imprisoned in this plane of reality would not be the only threat that you would have to deal with. There is another Dark Old One, a very familiar one that you have all faced in the past," Sachiko looks meaningfully at Souta because he was one of the important individuals who has a personal history with this. "A Dark Old One who rules the aeons of the serpentine, composed of the feline, reptilian, mammal, and avian."
The Doctor and his companions widened their eyes. Surely, she doesn't mean, as they all commonly thought.
"...It can't be," Souta muttered softly.
But there was no denying it. Finally, after being quiet for a while, the Dark Old One that he and the others who bear the name of Kamen Rider had fought to the bitter end, was now making a return. And it would start with here. Here, in Heavenly Host.
"...Hmm, we must leave," Sachiko spoke as she raised her right hand to open yet another transitional portal. "Everyone, follow me, we cannot stay here in this specific spot for much longer, this place may find itself some unwanted company soon."
And Sachiko would lead them outside the school, where the TARDIS was located. Clouds were already pouring a little rain, whose drops fell to the ground. Sachiko was keeping all of her company from being wet, using her inward power to sprinkle the water in other directions.
"...Hmm?"
But everyone, particularly Conan, would notice a figure who had been waiting for them. It was a young woman who was lying her back to the TARDIS, with her arms crossed. There was a distinguishing scythe that was placed on her right side.
The woman was very beautiful. In fact, she was so beautiful that it made Seiko, Naomi, Yuka, and Kokuhaku stop in their tracks, widen their eyes, and be wonderstruck.
She looked like a typical Japanese ojou-sama. Her long hair and eyes were of the color maroon—often used to represent intense and passionate things like; confidence, creative thoughts, excitement, power, risk, passion, love, ambition, courage, strength, warmth, and beauty. Many men would be head over heels for her, literally as Conan could attest. Not a single man could be able to resist her charm.
Well, almost. There was a certain phantom thief who could do that, and he just so happened to be her boyfriend as well. There's also Conan himself to state the obvious.
The woman was wearing an Egyptian dress, with dark colors. There were three golden circular necklaces around her neck. A golden headband that had a serpent on it, along with two serpents found on the shoulders. They all seem to commonly emulate the expression seen in the woman.
"Oh, you're just in time, detective, Lord Doctor, everyone," the woman smiled a little. Her eyes opened, revealing red colors.
The Doctor, the companions, and Conan especially recognized the woman.
"Koizumi Akako," Conan spoke with recognition.
Akako Koizumi. The Sorceress Supreme of DCMK Universe-Prime.
She had come from a long generational line of Sorcerer and Sorceress Supremes, wizards and witches by name, whose tasks and responsibilities are not something most mortals and even gods would like to deal with. As such, she shares a kindred and strange genuine friendship with Conan, as Night Baron, for he too has tasks and responsibilities in protecting the world and others.
Akako would look at the three Kisaragi students. "I thought to inform you all that I have managed to gather the other students and one teacher of Kisaragi Academy"
"Eh?!" Naomi muttered as she and the other girls were surprised.
"Well, that was fast," Kyon muttered, raising an eyebrow. "Guess we got Set A all together again at least."
"And there are still other Sets left unaccounted for," Conan muttered.
"Though, all of them are currently unconscious and are resting in the TARDIS medical bay," Akako spoke with a serious tone.
"Huh, onii-chan's unconscious?!" Yuka sported a worried look.
"I'll check for them then, thank you for bringing them here, Koizumi-kun," the Doctor would say as he snapped his fingers, automatically opening the doors of the TARDIS. "Come along you four, into my lovely ship."
As the Doctor spoke with a cheeky smile and gestured to the three girls of Kisaragi Academy and Kokuhaku, he would walk towards the doors of the ship. The three girls of Kisaragi Academy and Kokuhaku would look at each other, confused and surprised at the TARDIS, a blue police box that seems completely out of place from this entire horror setting.
"Go," Touma prodded the four, who were looking at him. "It's a lot bigger than it looks, trust me."
The girls looked hesitant for a bit. Eventually, Kokuhaku would go first, taking a few steps before bending her body a little to see what lay inside. What she found surprised her. A bigger on the inside hall, full of walkways and roundels. She could not resist to go inside. The others, seeing Kokuhaku's figure disappearing into the box, would follow suit and would also express their same common surprise. Shock seems a more appropriate word to convey their emotion.
"I'm going to be helping the Doctor for a bit," Lelouch explained to his fellow companions. "As the student council president and only currently active member of the TARDIS School Student Council, I need to see to it that the girls are well adjusted to the circumstances."
"Yeah, sure, we'll stay here with Shinozaki-san and Koizumi-san in the meantime," Souta nodded.
And so, Lelouch would follow, closing the door of the TARDIS and leaving the other companions and the two women outside to converse further.
"Koizumi," Conan spoke with a serious tone. "I'm going to wager that you and the Shinozaki Sachiko who is with us are close associates relating to this case, which would explain why you have been gone from my world for a while, relatively speaking, yes?"
"As expected of the Dark Blue Butterfly," Akako spoke with high praise as she glanced at Sachiko and spoke with a serious tone. "Yes, I was contacted by Sachiko the White, as I would call her, when I was meditating on my inner sanctum. She explained to me the general details, which more or less probably match with yours. So I do not need to lay out unnecessary exposition. As such, the current situation right now is dire."
"You could say that," Kyon shakes his head. "We're apparently dealing with more Dark Old One shit again."
"And not just that, we're specifically gonna be dealing with two Dark Old Ones, one of them we know all too well," Souta pointed out, sighing. "If only George-san and Tatsuya-san were here with us right now."
"In any case, all of you should know something else," Akako turns serious. "In my little trips in getting all of Set A together and bringing them into the TARDIS, I had to deal with a few straggling atemporal beasts running around, and it relates to the latter Dark Old One."
"?! The Bewitchers?! They're here too?!" Souta exclaims.
The Bewitchers. Atemporal demonic abominations that feed on hearts, death, and paradoxes. Servants of a Dark Old One who is invading this realm through its minions. And since Heavenly Host is the source of all three, then these monsters would evolve into more troublesome foes for the companions to deal with.
"Hmm," Akako nodded. "So I'd probably keep an eye out for them... ...along with a certain organization that had plagued many worlds."
The companions were a little silent at that.
Akako glances at Sachiko. "Well, I suppose we should take our leave for now."
"Yes," Sachiko nodded.
"Wait, leave?" Touma showed a concerned expression.
"Hai, onii-chan, everyone," Sachiko looks at everyone, explaining. "I, Koizumi-san, and a few others have hatched a specific plan that can help in fully purifying and expunging this realm once and for all, along with the Dark Old One who is imprisoned here."
Akako continued the explanation. "It involves making a new grimoire, quite naturally, it's not as simple as it works. We're essentially going to have to gather up the necessary knowledge, convert said knowledge into a magical code actualized in the form of a magical circle or spell, and then we have to hook it to a permanent source of magic to make it eternal."
"With my powers being an equivalent and counter to my other self, I am one of the few who could go back and forth between Heavenly Host and outside without alerting my other self, which gives us the element of surprise by halves," Sachiko explained.
"...Alright, I understand," Touma nodded. "But... who or what exactly are you going to get said knowledge from?"
"...Well," Sachiko made a saddened smile as she glanced at Akako who understood what she was trying to say. Sachiko would look at Touma and explain. "From your world, onii-chan, from someone who carries a library of forbidden books."
Touma would widen his eyes a little, recognizing what... ...or who Sachiko was referring to.
"You're planning to go to her, aren't you?"
"Her knowledge would be extremely vital if it means saving all of our worlds from suffering the same terrible fate as those who are trapped here in Heavenly Host," Sachiko spoke with a serious expression.
"Koizumi, does Strange-sensei know about this?" Conan asks.
If Conan recalled, the aforementioned girl who is considered the bearer of forbidden books would be under the careful watch of none other than Dr. Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts and Sorcerer Supreme of another universe called MV Universe-616.
"He does," Akako nodded. "In fact, he was the one who proposed the idea and helped to refine the plan to fit with this situation. There is also another reason why. As Strange-sensei were to point out, Index Librororum Prohibitorum, the young woman who carries all of the forbidden books, would be forced to be involved in this dilemma either way, whether she desires it or not, for Sachiko the Red threatens everyone Kamijou-san knows, including those whom you have yet to meet in the future, or should I say past."
Akako looks at Touma who was sporting a grim expression, being silent as certain thoughts came to his mind.
"Onii-chan," Sachiko would walk towards Touma and begin to give him another hug. Touma reciprocated, closing his eyes and giving in to the warm embrace. "I wished we both had more time to spend together like this, but the present circumstances do not seem to favor us, so I will content myself with this hug for now."
"Hey, don't say that," Touma patted Sachko's hair, just like so many years ago, which made Sachiko hum in pleasure. "Tell you what, when this is all over, we can talk as much as we want, just like the old days. I'd probably introduce you to my family and other friends too. They'd love to know all about you."
Sachiko smiled a little. "I would like that very much."
She let go of her embrace and eventually raised her left hand, conjuring up yet another swirling portal.
"Shall we?" Akako proposed, carrying her scythe's pole handle.
"After you," Sachiko proposed.
Akako would walk towards the portal along with Sachiko. Sachiko, before leaving, would turn back to her beloved onii-chan and his companions. "Onii-chan, I have faith that you and your companions can handle this."
"And the feeling is mutual, Sachi," Touma spoke with a trusting tone.
Sachiko smiled softly.
"Oh, and detective," Akako spoke with a little smile, looking at Conan. "If you bump into my boyfriend at some point before I did, tell him that I'm fine and currently working on a way to deal with the situation."
By boyfriend, Conan dryly thought, it would be his rival and the infamous phantom thief.
"Sure, I'll pass my regards, if I meet him first," Conan said, with a serious tone.
"Thanks."
Akako said with a smile before she and Sachiko, waving at her beloved onii-chan and his friends, began to leave through the portal. Then the portal would vanish. All of the companions would look at each other with concerned, but silent expressions.
"Everyone, we've got trouble!"
Lelouch suddenly got out of the TARDIS, opening the door. His expression was anxious and in a hurry.
"Something happened with Nakashima-san, Shinohara-san, and Mochida-san!"
"What?!" everyone would exclaim.
Insert Song: End
Insert Song: Start
19 ESCHATOLOGY Anonymous;Code Soundtrack
PART 2
In Night Baron's reality, there existed many secret organizations. One would wonder about the term "secret" when this world does not have a masquerade anymore. When did the masquerade start to fall? Some developments and stages happened before it fell little by little.
It first began during the era of World War II, from 1939 to 1945, as the Fuhrer and the Nazis Party rose to infamy and prominence, so did its SS Division called HYDRA, whose main task was to provide hyper-advanced weapons and technology for the Axis Powers, and thus were opposed by Sherlock Holmes and his League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. What most of the world did not realize at the beginning, including both the Allies and the Axis, was that HYDRA's leader, the Red Skull, planned to take over the entire world and make all nations fall under one banner. HYDRA's banner. Holmes and his team were the first to slowly discover this plan and they would secretly inform a top-secret Allied war agency called Blackwatch, formally approved and formed by President Franklin D. Roosevelt, under the direct command of Colonel Rick Edwards Ironwood.
With this information, Blackwatch began to form a secret project, under the head of Jewish German scientist, Dr. Abraham Esrkine, relating to his latest invention. The Super Soldier Serum. It was a chemical solution formulated to enhance the human body and mind. While officially, it was intended to be utilized by the United States Armed Forces, it would not be so. For the good doctor had been assassinated by a HYDRA agent who had been present during what was perhaps the most significant event in the history of Night Baron's Earth.
The birth of the Sentinel of Liberty. Captain America.
And thus, carrying a mighty shield made out of powerful metals, a disc-shaped object with a five-pointed star design in its center, within blue, red, and white concentric circles, and wearing a patriotic uniform that reflects the colors of the shield; along with his best friend and fellow soldier, Bucky Barnes, he marches on to the fields of the war, becoming members of Holmes' League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.
Then, after years of fighting, by 1945, all of the Axis have surrendered. Captain America would be presumed dead after stopping the Red Skull one last time and wouldn't be found again until years later in the year 2012, found frozen in a block of ice. Bucky was confirmed dead a little before the Red Skull's defeat. The effects of the war could still be felt. The atomic bomb that rained down a hellish nightmare on Hiroshima and Nagasaki would be a scar imprinted on everyone. The very first weapon that made the entire world silent. The very first time when humanity now made a terrible weapon that made the status quo of the masquerade shake to its core.
The horrors were not forgotten. Little by little, the supernatural and the extraordinary were revealing themselves. From the few random encounters in the 50s, to the strange phenomenon happening in the 60s that left traces of crop circles, to the 70s up to the 90s which slowly made the modern era more slowly accustomed to the strange and to the fantastical.
And now, by the year 2018, the world at large already knew of things beyond man. The gist of it at least. Even with the masquerade gone, there still need to be some secret organizations to keep the peace. And among them was an ancient international thaumaturgical organization that is known only as the Holy Order of the Covenant. Known by other names such as the Knights of the Holy Order, Knights of the Covenant, and the Crusaders, they are an organization that is said to house the best warrior knights, the elite, chosen over all of the world.
They are an organization whose historical origins are mysterious, but most sources agree that they date back to the turbulent time of the Crusades, a series of overly complicated holy wars that more regrettably was far more than meets the eye aside from just for secular and noble reasons that had more than a hundred or so known personalities whose histories are discussed and debated in the modern era. Hidden behind that series of conflicts were the dreaded forces of darkness that the Holy Order battled in due haste in the name of the Judeo-Christian God. It was the first knights of that time who battled and stood against them, both physically and spiritually.
The first knights came from both Churches of West (Catholic Church) and East (Orthodox Churches) who were assigned the most dangerous of daily tasks than just the simple average crusader could handle. As the Crusaders fought against the Moslems for the protection of the Christian pilgrims and for the safety and security of the Holy Land, the first knights had another mission in mind. To fight the true evil and darkness that is taking advantage of all of these chaotic turbulences, the evil that most would not dare to fight if they were to be discovered.
Ancient spirits of despair. Old gods of graves and shadows. Demons of hell. And all other manner of evil that had forever haunted and walked upon the earth unawares who had preyed and toyed with mankind and other innocent sentients for millennia. That is... until the right time came when all of the prophecies that were written in the Holy Word would be fulfilled. When a Savior of Men and of all Creation hung on a wooden Cross, it gave rise to mankind's first sparks of light to fight against these dreaded foes that they were powerless to defeat on their own. The Cross served as the symbol and the source of holy power that provided the tools and weapons that were needed to combat the darkness, and thus were used by the first knights with such prowess, skill, and intelligence.
The first knights were soldiers and scholars. Simple laymen who dedicated their lives to defeating the evil that haunts the earth.
It was thus that the Holy Order of the Covenant had been conceived, and going down the centuries up to the modern era, they continued to protect mankind from the dangers of evil. Several branch locations have been established as the main headquarters. The Vatican in Rome, Istanbul in Turkey, Moscow in Russia, the Lutherstadt cities in Germany, London in England, and others.
In the land of the free, of the United States of America, all states would form a unified American Branch of the organization. And one particular focus was the headquarters located in San Francisco.
Somewhere deep underground, there was a gathering of men of honor and valor. A holy ceremony, of timely old tradition, would commence upon a fellow knight and crusader of the Order. The time has come for him to be promoted. In the past, he would be a simple Knight-Paladin Commander. Now, he would become an Elite Knight, the rarest rank that the order could give to someone of exceptional talents and worth.
He will be tasked with even greater responsibilities from henceforth. Now, he will be recognized as an elite. The very last line of defense for the order. Identified by at least six gold Saint Benedict medal shield emblems on the collar of their uniform.
Wise and aged men gather in a circle. They wore ancient robes that made them resemble religious monks that are seen in monasteries. They were holding pure holy swords that were made out of pure bright, white, and holy light with a hint of gold.
"Step forward, Knight-Paladin Commander Gilead Solomon Burgundy."
A solemn call came forth from the one who wore a brown robe. He was quite tall, with black hair and an aged face that would show years of experience. He beckons the young man with brown hair and blue eyes to walk towards him. The young man does so gracefully and respectfully which is fitting to a well-trained and seasoned paladin of the light.
And then, all of the men, except for the leader who called for the young man, would lower their swords firmly.
"Kneel."
As the aged leader from the center called for the boy to kneel, he complied accordingly. He knelt, with one left knee on the solid hallowed ground that had a shield emblem that depicted the Saint Benedict Medal. His right arm was poised towards his breast.
"Recite the Crusader's Pledge, as you once always did, but with a new meaning for your future."
The aged leader ordered. And the young man complied.
"I, Gilead Solomon Burgundy, do solemnly swear, by the aid of Almighty God, under his Light, by the Sword of the Spirit and by the Scales of Truth, all under the eyes of the Seven Heavens, to undertake this holy Crusade. I pledge to guard heart, spirit, body, and mind against the corruption of evil and darkness. I furthermore promise and declare that I shall protect the innocent as I wage relentless war against the Spawn of the Pit and their manifold legions, as directed by those with charge of this Crusade and whenever opportunity presents, to extirpate and annihilate their execrable race and any who serve them."
Then the aged man would lower his sword and place it on the young man's right shoulder, and then came the left, investing him with authority. A proud fatherly tone would make known even underneath the solemnity.
"And by the right of this very Council and by the right that is given unto me as Grand Commander of the Holy Order, I dub dee: Elite Knight-Paladin Gilead Solomon Burgundy. Arise and give glory to God."
The young man arose just as requested, his expression showing respect and humility to his superior. His face bowed low out of gratitude before raising it up again to face the man who had ordained him.
A feeling of unreadiness still lay within his heart. He felt unworthy to be bestowed this honor which is a rarity. Nevertheless, if it is the will of God, then he will surrender and accept it to the best of his abilities.
"Rejoice, my brothers. We have a new Elite Knight-Paladin ordained by the Almighty. Give him glad tidings and blessings that are his due."
The gathering men, banishing their swords of light away with nothing but a mere flicker of the will, would crowd over to the young man and impart smiles and blessings of praiseworthiness and encouragement in light of his newly given set of admittedly overwhelming responsibilities.
Gilead Solomon Burgundy.
Who is he?
He was a young man who was quite gifted for his age, considered by his peers to be one of the greatest of the knights to have ever stepped foot into the hallowed halls of the Order. He never knew who his parents were until many years later upon investigation, with the Orders' help as well as the help of an old friend and caped crusader. An adventure he would remember fondly.
Without a name to call him by, he was called by a new name. Gilead Solomon Burgundy.
Three meanings were held within the name. Gilead was reminiscent of one of the simple mountainous northern parts of the region of Transjordan. Solomon hearkens back to the glorious days of Israel, a reminder of the son of David whose wisdom became known and revered over the earth. Burgundy reminds one of a dark red-purplish color and the significance of such a name in the history of France which was one of many countries that had saints like Bernard of Clairvaux and Joan of Arc.
He was adopted by the Covenant when he was but a young infant, raised by the Grand Commander himself, though at the time he was not yet the Grand Commander, for he was a Marshal, merely a third in command who is in charge of the branch of San Francisco. The Grand Commander's name was Jericho Walls, and he would be the same man who would promote Gilead as a newly ordained Elite Knight-Paladin.
Gilead had the basic gifts of every knight. He could wield the five elements of West and East. He worked hard to perfect his abilities. He studied the works of past sages and wise men. He studied history and its wars. He studied wisdom and how he may apply it.
As he grew older, his offensive and defensive abilities would grow in strength, sharpening like an invisible blade on the battlefield. And by the time he became an Elite Knight-Paladin, he was already seventeen years of age, the youngest of them all to be blessed with such ordainment.
Among his gifts, there is the rare psychic ability that he slowly developed and acquired. It was a part of him ever since he could remember. A precognitive power to see visions and flashes of the future. An infinitude of possibilities, opened to him like a jigsaw puzzle. Some were harmless and ordinary. But for the most part, they usually held danger, such as life-threatening moments before they even took place. Though there was a little drawback. He would usually equate to a limited amount of time on his hands. There would also be unknown factors that could influence and change the future. So the future is not fixed and not guaranteed. Context was the key ingredient when deciphering these visions.
Gilead would refer to this skill as Future Sight.
And right now, it was activating, when he was already sleeping soundly for the night.
A bright flash, he could see. And then, that flash would dissipate, and he would behold an old abandoned building. It was rundown and dilapidated, like it had not been in use for years. He would see the inside of the school. Elementary shoes littered the hallways where broken wood was seen. The walls were cracked, without anyone to repair them. Classrooms were deserted. Some of the rooms were closed off. And yet...
...All he could feel was evil. All he could feel was darkness. Every knight of the Holy Order has a natural inclination to sense the concept of evil. It was in their nature, and Gilead was not an exception.
Alertness came for him. His eyes fell upon a little girl, wearing a tattered red dress. Her skin was sickly pale. Her long black hair extended past her shoulders. But it was her eyes that Gilead felt like shuddering. Looking into her eyes... ...they felt hollow... ...like they lost hope for a very long time, and only something else was looking back from within those eyes.
What lay hidden underneath those eyes?
Underneath those eyes, he would see a young girl, with curly white hair, pale skin, no eyebrows, and blood covering the ends of each fingertip. Her most prominent feature is her bright cyan eyes. She is also extremely skinny, with a very prominent ribcage. Then her skin suddenly appears to rot. Her eyes were suddenly becoming less bright and more human-like, and her lips seemed to disappear, showing off her teeth.
Memories flashed of terrible persecutions. The burning of thousands of witches. The darkness that plagued Europe and America.
And then, underneath even this girl, there was a terrible demonic bestial of a god that lay imprisoned, unactive but living, enchained with chains that contained its evil.
Somewhere beyond even his foresight would dare to see. The only impression that he could even see was a jet-skinned knight in silver armor, surrounded by a corona of black lightning that flickered. But even this was but a pale impression of the true form that lay underneath. A terrible evil, the same manner of evil that the Knights of the Holy Order would do battle and fully swore to destroy.
Ḭ̶̲̟̖̒͊ͅ,̴̞̟̟͉̩̮͑͌̓̈́̀̕ ̸̙̄́̓w̷̪̼̦̉̃́̽͂͝ͅh̷͎̞͍́́̌͑͋o̵̰̭͔͇̣͛͛͗̃͜͝ ̸̛̖͔͎͉͕͑͆̏̓̿h̷̦̳̖̩̰̙́̊̾̔ë̵͉̭̹́̋̆ͅl̸̰͇̹͎͒̔d̸̡̡̖̟͍͚̋̾͊̿̀ ̷̡̭̔̿̂͜͝d̷̨͍̳̓͐̿̔̅̊e̵̡̻͚̥͐͊͋͝a̴̠̳̻̜̻͌̓͊̅d̸̙̞̹̀͘ ̷̗̽̔͜s̸̡͔̯͇͇̔͗͋̌͝t̷̡̛͈̟̍̈́͐̃̍a̸̮͛͑̏r̶̦̍ͅͅś̶̳̹̯ ̶̱̥̩͇̙̽̐̀͊̒w̴̨̧͚̫̭̯̏̿̄̇i̷̛̪̩̿͗͗͗̔t̸̞̂͋̌͛̈́̆h̷̙̖͍̠̤͛ ̸̨̦̳̓̌̌̌̔m̴͓̍̀̚y̷͍̻̔͌̄ ̸̩̱̌̀̈̈́̍͛r̵̗̝̈́̀i̸̹͍̟̋͋͋̓g̶̛͈͛͗͠h̵̙̪̞͎̿̔͠t̴̟͍̙̒͌̑ ̴̨̽̽h̶̰̘̝͉͎̉̊͋̚̚a̸͇͉͛͂n̵̝̝̦̾̓͌̋͋͠d̸͕͎́͆͌͑̽̇.̵̡͈̙͉̯̼͂́̃̈́
Gilead grimaced. Pain in his head. An eldritch tongue, that would translate to him the hidden meaning, The tongue that came out from seven horrible mouths. He could see this abandoned school, seemingly expand unnaturally. He could see red pulsating flesh with beatings that were reminiscent of guttural organs. He could see it everywhere, seen from the walls and ceilings, as well as the floors. He could see greenish, sickly tentacles coming out from of the fleshly reddish beatings. He could see eyes, blinking, from every corner.
I̸̫̭̋͜,̴̨̲͔̭͙̏̏̒́͠ ̶͔͛̓̀͛̓ẇ̶̱͈͚̬̇̓̕͝h̵̡͔̼͉̬̟̚̕o̷̲̱͘ ̴̢͆h̸̛̦̯͚̩͙͖̀̈́͘ȩ̵̼̬͍̈́ĺ̶͓̱͍̉̎͐̕͘d̶̡̺͖͋͑̂͋͊̚ ̷̡̞̺̘̿d̵̛̯̱͌̔͒̈͝e̶͙̹̎̓a̸̢͈̗̋̏͗͑͘ͅd̷͙̘͋͜ ̴͓̘͍̔͋͜s̸̜̅ͅó̷̬͎͔̣͈̎u̷̧̯͈̙̯̲͗͊̇l̴̨̛̠̦̭̝̠̈́s̷̲͂͗ ̸̢͈͋w̴̱̖̉͗̒̌͒͝i̵̾̽̔̑̏͜t̸̠͎̳́͋̓͑̓̐ͅh̶̝̬̊ ̷̛̻̟̘͚͆͂m̵̧̨͍͚͓̤̐̒̚͝͝y̶̨̼͍̱̹̠̋͌͋͆̏̀ ̶̪̊̏͗̄ļ̸̧͔̺͊̈́̈́̊͝͝e̶̯͔̠̞̪̼͑͛̊̒́͑f̴̠̂t̸͚̩͑͝ ̷̡͖̙̆̃h̵͉̻́̈́ȁ̸̧̧͔͚͉̗̇͛̎͘͝n̴̮̮̈́̏̎̒͊̇d̶͚̜͖̬͒͆̈̾̎̚.̶̠̗̲͕̦̩̿͋͋̾
He could see thousands and thousands of souls that wander throughout this unnatural nexus of multiple dimensions. Innocent and guilty. Holy and damned. Those who were wandering throughout the veil. Vengeful lots that plagued certain attached areas. There were too many to count. He could see worlds slowly drawing into this realm. He could see entire cities crashing into each other. Entire buildings. Entire worlds.
He could cracked lights in the skies. The skies became blood red. He sees decayed creatures that ran afoul. Flesh-eating zombies that crave flesh. There was a different variety of them that came from different worlds. He could see different types of killers with their modus operandi who wander the dimensions and kill innocent and guilty alike.
I̴̯͚̜̥̤͓͌̚ ̶̧̛̗̥͎̙̻̐͊̽͘A̶̧̬̘̮̪̒͌̇̂͑̀m̸̨̹̒̏͘͝ ̴͖͎̖̜̐̋̀͘H̷̡͈̎̿̉̑͜ë̴̗̣̪͚́ ̸̰͓̍͛͝W̵̧͍͒ḧ̶̲ö̸̜̳͎͖̳́ ̴̪͆̇Ĥ̷̼̔̚̕̕͠ì̴̢͕̰̂̆d̴̯̗̱̲́͋̇͝͝e̶̻̪̙̻̓ś̶̥͓ ̶̙̭͉͎͑̿̀̕Ḅ̶̨̱̝̰̇́̐̀̔̇e̴̩͉̣̐͛̇̕͠͝ḧ̸̨͉͔͍̗́̉̿͝͝i̴̻͓̘̍̈́̿n̷̯͍̦͍̂̋̒̍́̈d̶̬̖̂͋͘̕ ̶̜̦͕͊̃͌̽̑̔T̶͇̼̥͙̖̦͆h̶̝̽̃̍̉͝ȩ̶̺̈̈̑ ̴̛ͅŴ̷̖̠̻̔͘͝͝ā̵̧͖̤̭̭̓l̷͈͎̗̉̿l̷̡͌̊̄̓̕͠.̴̠̲̭̑̾̎͐̚
He gritted his teeth.
H̸̢̙̻͋̑͠e̸̹̰̟̺̩̓͗̇̇͐̂ȧ̷̩̟̠̱̃v̴̖̏e̶̙̭̰͙̯̘̽̽̄̊͘n̶̨̓̽̐̈ͅl̴͕̹̜̦̲̏̌͠ẏ̸̲̣͙̜ ̴̡̣̥̈́̏Ȟ̵̱̟o̵̯͓̤͒̿̀s̷̨̛̺̥͉t̵̨̰̗̰̔̌̏ͅ.̸̘̝͎̤̯̻͐ ̷͓̞̫̈́͛̓̆͘H̷̯͓̙̦̗̭̾̀̂ę̸̥̝̺͂̇̔̆͜a̵̪̼̙̞͙͍̔̾̑̽̾v̷̭̝͉̇͘e̷͎͙̣̗͙̎͆́͜n̵̛̫̎̈́̀̃l̷̮̬̞̫̀̌̍͋̇̚y̴̢͈̘̠̲̪̿̂́ ̴̭̻͖͎͎̯̉̃̔̓̀Ĥ̵̺̻͍͔͈o̵͕͠s̴̨̮̬̟̟̩̏̊̉̄͘t̵̨̛̮̖̲̤͎̀̂̄̈́͘.̷̨͖͎͍͕́̑́̔̚ ̴̻͎̩̰̹̀̈̊͐̃͝H̵̗͈̮̺̿̂̅͒͘é̴̳̒á̵̧̯͇̙̈́̍̇͐̉v̵͉͈͌̄e̷̤̟͈͆̈́̉n̷̬̈́̆̒͆l̴̨̛̻̦̇̽͐͜ỵ̸̠̰̋ͅ ̷͇̼́̓̂̎̎̕H̵̝̰͎̩̹͋ͅo̵̧͎̼͚̱͆́͒ṣ̷̼̟̠̦̩͋́͗̔͠t̴̺͎͙̠̦̦̐̃͆̚.̶̇͝ͅ ̷̙̯̟̀̎̚ͅH̷̨̠̱͂̐͆͊͘ẽ̵̜͓̠͘ạ̶̺̗̤͕̈́̕ͅv̶̫̑̋ễ̶̹̘̦̟̀͘͘n̸̗͙͓͛͜l̶̥̮͎̮̤̉̀̌͜y̵͕̙͓̘̰̓ ̷͔̱̭̱͚̬̍̄H̷̥̍̈́̍͝o̷̲̣̣͚͌͜s̵̭̰̮̘̔̏̍̅͠t̷̰͚̭͋̀͜.̴̠͕̆͗͋ ̷̡͔̰̫̄H̸̨̺̤̿̈́̅͘e̵͎̅̓̍̌͋ą̶̡̅͜v̷̪̀͐é̷̱n̶̨̩̲̲̦̮̂͋̍l̶̡̮͉̯̱̏̏̈y̷̰̓͋ ̴͎̒͊͝H̵̰͐͋͌̊̇͘o̵̺͓̽s̵̠̳̞̣͕̱̚̕t̵͉̊.̸̹̹͇̭̗̎ ̵̤̺͋͜H̴̫͎̆̋̆͐͠ẻ̴̢͈̟̭͙̇̇ͅḁ̸̰̝̠̔̿v̶̩͈̘̪̺͓̾̋͠ę̴̟̲̠̲̽͑͑̎n̵̬̙̮̻͖͌l̴̮̜̘̚y̸̧͉̻̆̀̕͝ ̸̛̳Ȟ̸̻͎̬͜o̶̧̙͌̔̿̈̃s̷̨̫̜̎̽̎́͐t̶̼̞̹̠̮̮̾̆͝͝.̴̘̱̫͋̾͑͜͠ ̷̠͂͑͒H̵͎̳̤͒̅̀̊͠ͅę̶̛̠͒̾́͆ą̸̧̟̳̂̎͘͜v̴̪̬̀̽̊́e̷̝̿͂̎͊͠n̶̳̙̓̾̉̈́̇̚ļ̶͓̈̓̏̈́̾͠ỹ̸̨̙̜̘̓̕ ̷̜̹͑͒̀̕̕͠Ḧ̴̺͔̠͕́͛̍͝ȯ̶̺̇̀͌͂͝š̵̨̥̐̑́̀t̵̻̳̍͌͐̎̃.̶̮̔̔̄͘̚͝ ̴̤̊͆̂H̷͎̗̞̊̅̀̽͝ę̸͍̉͊̈́ạ̶͋̇v̵̟͖̟̲̄͛͂͘e̸͉̙͎̠̅͐̚ņ̸̛̟̭̹̒̈́̎͛̔l̷̨͉͍̦̞̫͒y̸̢̨̡̹̞͕̌͒̂̒̉͗ ̸̡̥̲̦̺͐̉̇̏̕͝H̵̛̥͔̩̟͛̓͘o̵͍͓͔̜̝̅̋s̶̛͇̤̓̈͆̃̚ṱ̸̳͉͇̻͌̈́̈́̚ͅ.̸̱̗̞̩͙̞͑̌́̊͆̈́ ̶̨̗̥̮͖͕́̋͗͗͂͠H̸̜͙̩̖̜̐̌̾̿̐̚ę̴̡̼͖̌͒͐̔̾́a̸̡̳̺̓v̷̙͎̩̺̎͗̉̿̋̀ë̵̘̹́n̷̨̢̻̤͔̍̒̒̋́̐l̸̛̪̻͙̺͌̉̋́́͜ỷ̸̨̰̤͓̓̋̄̄͜ ̴̨͈͌̐̌H̵̼̦̓̉̐̅̐o̷̠̠̖̘͗̀̋ş̷̨̛̭̮̪̒͒͋͠͝t̵̲̞̳̱̗́̍̆͜.̸̧̦͋̾̑͑̃ ̶̝̇͑H̴̡̡̭̑̓͊é̷͔̪͔̓̓̆̈̌a̸̙͗̿́̊v̵̼̇̆̕ě̶̳̬̥́̃͗͂n̸͈̪̱̈̈̔͜͜ĺ̶͇̯̞͉̰̽͒̀ẙ̸̲̗̫͍͎͍͊͆̋̇ ̴̢͓̙̟͕̋̀̈́H̷͚̎̑̀̌̿͝o̴̭͕̎̅̅̈́̒̕s̷̲̩̏̂̋̊t̶̗̺̼͋̇͝.̴̼̉͑̏̉͊ ̵̨͇̓͐̊̊H̸̢͓͚̹̬͂̊͘ë̵͍̰̹̮́̌̎̂̽ă̴̢̟̖̠̌v̷̡͚̤̻͆̿̓͛͋͜ȇ̷͈̑n̸̺͎̘̘̋̓̏̀̓̑͜ĺ̴͍̔͆̎̄y̷̡̬͔̪̖̏̓̉̆̍͐ͅ ̸̧̺̔̾̾͠Ĥ̶̝͈̱̯̹̺̐̂o̷̞̤͔̼̍̏͝s̴̜̺̐t̶̨͉͓͖̠̂́͐̚͝.̶͖̦̤̖͕̈͠͝ ̸̢̜̥̘̹̖̿͘H̵̫͖̺͉̘̩̊̉̀͊̆̏ę̷̢͇͎͕͊̂̃͒͊͘à̶̧̯͈̼̻̔̂̀v̶̡̯̫̔͐̀̚͝e̵̮̰̍ṇ̶̺͕͈̈́̈́̊l̷͔̯̯̮̹͋̏y̸̨̬̞͕͖̓̆̈́ ̵̲̼́͑̎͘͜͝H̵͔̮̯͝o̸̭̫̐́̎͜ś̶̢͉̻͔̭̜͐̈́͑̈t̵̙̱̥͖́͋̑̇̕͝.̵͇͉̝̥͎͉̂̾͗̎̕͝ ̸̯͖͎̥͔̘̌̓̐͒H̷̨̥͒̃́̇é̶̡̩͛̈́̕a̷̢̯̠̜̫̐̉̕͝v̸͔̊̒̂̍̕ē̷͓͖̤̅̅̕͠n̷̡͎̉̄l̷̙̫̻̄͑̚y̵̠̌̒ ̶͔̾̿̈̈́͐Ḧ̵̤̙̻͐ó̸͕͔̺̳̕ŝ̶̛̰̫̟̏t̶̡͉͋̄̀̽̂.̷̫͔̇ ̷̥̭̠̰͉̯̀̎̈́́̓Ḥ̵̨̐͑̀͑̾̂e̶̻̰̤͋̈́͌ǎ̴̩̮̝͔v̴̯̪̄̌̍͜͠͠è̴̛͎̠͔́͆̈n̴̳͍͙͒̆̋̄̐̐l̸͍̝̠̔͝y̴̱̦͉̭̘͈̑ ̸͓̑̋̔͜H̴̩̩̳͙̗͔̐͆o̴̬͔͕͈͗̚s̷͍̰͆̆̔̕ṭ̷̫͎̜̩̼͛.̸͖̎̑ ̵̘̠̟̰̜̈́̌̿̏H̵̛̝̦̟͉̬̪̔͛̍̀e̶̬̣͓͎̣͐̽͛̇a̸͚͕͙͂͛v̴̟͍̺̑e̵̡̔n̸̤̗̏̿ļ̷̳̩̟̘͠y̷̩̋̆ ̴̙̏̌̐̏H̶̞͕͎͉̍̆̈́̅͋̈o̶̪͔̻͇̒̾s̸̡̼͔̪͋ͅt̶̪͍̓̆͆.̴̧̳̫͇̲̣̽ ̸̯̘̯̀̆̓̋͑͂Ḥ̶̫̹̗͔̑͛e̷̯̓̈́͐a̸̢̺͍̾́́͋͊̚v̷̭̦̲̽ę̵͈̫̱̄͐n̷̨̲̳̼̉́̈̑̋͆l̸̘̗̔́̀̍y̴̯̘̩͚̓͋̉̒͌͠ ̵̣̙͙͙͍̣̋̽̆͊̏H̴̞̱̩̺̲̎͝o̷̢̝̟̯͒̒s̴͈̺̆͗̅̎͗t̵̼̻̜̽̆͑̾̓͒.̶̰̙̂̎̽ ̴̱̊̓̈́H̵̠͔̜̘̖̪̄͗e̵͉̫̞̟̣͌̑̓͗͒a̴̼͊̾̐͐͐̎v̶̥͔̼̅͐e̷̺͎͑̾̓n̷̠͈̠̎̋͛́l̴̟̃y̸̺̪͛͐̉̒́ ̴͇͑̇̒͜H̸̼́͂̂o̸̡̻̗͐s̶̗̄̏t̷͓͈̳̎.̸̪͍̂̒͘ ̴̹͓͇͎̰̳͊́͂͘͝͝H̶̛̥͍̀̾́́̂e̵̢̜͈͂͑̃͛̆͜a̷̦͗̍͜v̷̰̖̼̓͆̾e̶̦͑͌n̷̰̲̐̑̄͑̀͝l̸͓͈̹̤̹̱̈ỹ̴̼̃͒͆̊ ̸̯̭͚̜̦̺̍̄́̎̈Ḣ̶͍̏o̸̡̱̞̬̙͚͋̇̌̃ś̴͖͊̐͑͑͠t̸͇͎̺̞̝̏̅.̶̻̳̼̄ ̵̡͔̦̬͚̀͑͝͝H̷͓̟̘̽̐͜͠ẽ̷̦͍̝͇̓͒̚ā̸̛͈̺͓͕̻̘͛̿͛̑v̵̛̛̟͛̂͘e̵̢̔̀͛ṋ̷̽͊͑͘ļ̵̬͔͚̖͂́̉y̵͖̱̝̆̚͜͜ ̶͕̞̫̑̔̓̑͋͘Ḩ̷̤͒͛͛̂̓͋͜ò̶͍̘̪̻͉̿͝ś̸̖͖̪t̶̼̹͊̇.̴̖̅͜ ̴̢̬̲̫͔̘̒͛̀͌H̴̨̦̺̖̘̔̾͝e̵̹̭̓ͅa̸̢̫̼͌̀͊̇̑̀͜v̶̛̺̎̕͠e̵̤͙̺͖͔̔n̸̮͆̈́̈́͘͝l̴͚̘̞̖̖̑́͊͐͜y̶̡͋̀͊͛̑̄ ̶͉̟͓̙͕͙̽͋̆̑̄̃H̷̜̑͌͊o̷̙̫̬̭̳̘̽͐̽s̴̬̹̬͑̽͂͌ẗ̸̥̩̚.̷̮̺̼́̊ ̴̣̅͛̏̈́͑͛Ḩ̴̧̲͎̟̃̈e̵̙̖̪͉͍̟̚a̶̩̲͕͎̗̋̈͝v̶̡̢̻̦̄͝e̵͓̹̪͐͝n̴̖̣̮̆̐͐̓͌l̸̘̿̃̔̋̂y̶̠͕͎͇̝̜͊̈́́͠ ̵̝̠̝̺́̇Ḧ̵͔̈̋̐̊͘o̶̪͉̔͝ͅṡ̴̠̭̫̖̘͋̆͂̓̽t̷̟̮̒̇͑.̷̥̻̭̭̖̅̾̒͗ ̴̢̯̀͂H̶͖̙͊̈̾͒̚ḙ̵̩̗̠̎̌̈͐͆ȁ̸̺̯̦̻͈̍̓v̴̧̩̟̖͑̀̇͐͠ẻ̸̩̏̿̂ņ̸̈́̏͛̌͜ḷ̵̨̙̣̎̒͝y̴̧͍̝͇̤̳͐̿͌͒͘ ̵̨̧͚̣̞̩̽̚H̴̨͙̝̬͈̞͛͆̇̓̀́o̸̞̜̅̌ͅs̴̙͈͉̼̗͛ṯ̴͔͙̮̩̊͐̽ͅ.̶̻̩̻͖̞͕͑̔̌͂̒ ̵̻͗̌̈́H̴͔̪̻̎͂̂e̴͈͐̊â̶̩͚̭̱v̸̨̧̫͇͒͆ë̷̫͉̝̫̙̒n̵̰̪̓̇̏l̸̨̥̗̮͓̆̓̃y̶̢̙̫͔̜̒͝ ̴̧̮͉̌H̴̢̡̝̹̬̜̽̄́o̸̢̢̘̝̯͌̾̕s̸̯̣͙̗̈ţ̶̡̛̛̫̓͝.̷̢͖̪͙̃̑ͅ ̵̹̲̺͎͎̘̀͊̽̽͝Ĥ̵͔͍̹͒ȅ̷̢̛̤̻̬̹͉̄͒̀á̵̬̰̞̮̫v̴̮̺̪̫̓̅̔̾̚̕e̷͓̼̩͚̺͛͝n̶̨̯͚̮͂͛̔̈́ļ̴̪̈͛̔̈͒͆ỵ̴̹̩̫̊͐̽ ̴̧̊̀́̓H̸̥̟̱̓́́͐͝o̴̲̱̒̄s̴̳͒̉͜t̴͔͐̓̑.̸̢̽́ ̷̹̼̫̎́H̸̨̺̬̍ȩ̵͎̥̈̆̽a̸̫̯͎͓̩͂̇͗̌̈́̑ͅv̶̨̩̖̗̈́͑͂̑͊ě̶̛͍̥͒̑͋͒n̴̝̗̒̍̔̕l̵̨̜͔͊̿̈́y̷̛̟͕͕̲̒̓̔͒͠ͅ ̵̰̹̠̹͔͆ͅH̸̢͎͊̄̈́́o̸̜̪͂͊̍s̷̞̖̰̫͚͑͌́t̸̜͕̀̏͐̂̂͒ͅ.̵̪͍̦̦̱͑͗̓̕ ̷͙̀Ĥ̸̯͕̣̠̙͝e̷̢͉̥͚͗͜a̶̫͍̦̘̔v̵͇̩̜͗͠ë̴͇̼͖̳̩͎́̔̾ń̴̨̲͇̣̾̚̚͜ḷ̸̢̠̯͕́̂̾̀̉̽ͅy̸̧̛̖̣͎͙̏̃̈́͒ ̶̾͜H̶̡̡̝̲͎̓̀o̸̡͚̺̝̅̕͝ͅs̸͕̫̠͋͗t̵̡͖͕̤̯͖̽.̴̩̘͂̓̂ ̴͉̼̇̓̾H̷̩̽e̷̖̪͙͈̺͌̈́̚͜a̴̫͈̱̰̮̿v̸̛̹̰̠́͜ë̵̙̪̺̟̫̙́͝n̷̟̟̭͉̅̀͗̓̑l̶̼̀̒̆̓͆͂͜y̶̙͉̬̽̓̏̃̔ ̷̯̼͙̬͚̐̌̈́́̕H̶͚̿̈ö̶͉̝͇̱̋̽̀̇̃s̷͉̤̿̄̈́t̵̳͌̃͗̆̃͝.̶̰̝̭̑͛͋̐͝ͅ ̵͔̣̄̒̏̀Ḧ̵̡̛͍̱́̂͌e̶̢̧̞̲͗͛̋̕͘a̵̧̠̥̞̓v̶̤͈͓̯͖͆̇͌e̴̡͚͓̙̼̔̏n̸̰̐̈́̇͛̿l̶̦̘̗͔͌́͜͠y̶̦̪̘̏͛̎ ̷͉̘̪͖̃̌̈́͐̽̆ͅH̵̭͑̀o̸͎͚͉͋̔̓s̴̨͍̗̾̽̓͒̚̚ͅt̶̝̪̭̫̠̱̽̐̋̅͝.̶̧̘̥̓̓͐̐́ ̴̩̟̲̝̘̈́̎͝H̵̫̑̃e̵̯͛́̅̾͂͛a̷̩͙̹͚͒͐̒̅̍͂v̴̡͎̦̣̓̓̐́̌͠e̷̡̼̗̯͔̾́̌͗͆̋͜ǹ̷͍͚̝̰̒̇͠l̷̻͎͇͉̱̿̀y̶̪̠͇͔̋͗͝ͅ ̴͚͊̎̿͜H̴͔̻̒͂̇ỏ̵̠͙̃̌s̷̰̲̪͉̈̂ẗ̷̖̙́͆͒̂̊.̵̧̠̈́͌̉͜ ̵̡̢͚̫̇̽̊H̸͙͖̭̅̍̚̚ẻ̴͇̦̟͆͜â̷͖͓͍̱̈́̆̀v̸̧̥͎̓͜ẽ̵̙̲̮͔̇n̶̜̥̱̅̔͊͐̑͘l̸̗͕͉͋̽̉̄̂y̸̩͂ ̶̰͒̈̓͒H̶͉̝̘̞̄̃̔̐o̶̭͓̩͌̔̍̕š̷̯̖̝̠̖͌̄̿͜t̷̩͖͓͕͑͑̇͛̎͗.̴͇̳̗̹͙̈́̅͝ ̴̖̦̘͎̿͂̄̀̋Ȟ̸̘̫͚̭̲̖̓͝ḙ̸̜̬̗̔̎̈͊̈́̍a̷͈̐̀̑͌̓̑v̵̬̮͕̣͍̾̾͗ę̴͈̯̹̭̈́͜n̷̰̣̱͚͒̈̕͘͜͝͠l̸̖̞͓̩̳͊͌y̸̛̬͆͊ ̴̩̤̬̣͂͑͝Ḧ̵̨̡̖̤̳̚ô̷̰̮̺͛̕ṡ̴̢͕̗̺̝̖t̷̝̭̻̗͂.̷̟̲̿̋̽̿̇ ̷̢̭͎͉͓͐͛̑ͅH̸͈͍̳͒͐͆͘͘͠ȅ̵͙̱̪̏̎̾̐ā̷̧̛̛̹̹v̶̮̿̀͑̊̐͝e̶̙̎̑͆͜n̶͇̫̳̪͊͐̍̄l̵̜͂̈͑͝y̶̟͇͕̗̋͋̐̆̕͠ ̸̦̫̓̅̊͠H̵̼̮͚̿͋̏̈̆̓o̵̰̺̼͛̀̇͝s̸̯̈́ţ̷̬̄̾̾͌̇̕.̷͎̝̳̩͉̊̊ ̴̨̱͓̺̮̱̊̆̃͘H̶̳͂͒e̷̤̻̙̰̫̒̓̇a̵̻̦̼͒̿̑̚͜͜v̸̢̢͔̲̿̏͗́̚e̶͇͉͉͍͑̄̒̎̍n̷̝̲̿̀͌͒l̵̙͙͕̣̯̈̐̌͑ẏ̴̹͑ ̷̣̙̺̪̫̪̅H̶̢̡̞̦͙̋̽̈͛o̶̙̙͕̓̄̑̆̉̕͜s̴͈̹̯̙̥̱̍ṯ̸̀͂̚.̵̢̔̍͐̐ ̴͈̑̆̀̉H̴̰͑͋̏e̴̫̞̟̮̫̠̓̀͒̀â̶̜̠̤͔̠̔̄̓ͅv̷̢̳̳̠͕̩͘è̵͈̠͉͓͔̯́̓̄̑͝n̸͎̹̯͉̓̉͐̚͠ľ̷̛̩̎y̵̯̏̑͐̾̐͝ ̵̧̱̯̩͈̆́̀Ĥ̷̙̲͕͉̻͉̎͛́o̷̻̫̔͘s̵̼̑̑̄͐̌̒t̷̟̟͂̽͊́̔̊.̶̽̈̌̐ͅͅ ̷͓̊͋̽͠H̷̛̰͖̹͓͜e̶̛̖̫̎͑̀̈̾ä̸̧̛̘̜̣̤͚́̓͂̊ṿ̶͖̙̬͙̯̆̽̅͒̈̊ȩ̸̢͇̈ṇ̵̜̖̲̤͓̓̅͘l̸̡͖̙̪̼̩̓̑ý̵̨̮̥̾̈́͛̊͠ ̴̠͍̝̇́̆͋͘H̸̛̪̍̄o̵̢̢̞͈̒̓͜s̵͔̓̋̐̓̚t̸̢͓̟̼͚̎̆͝͝ͅ.̴̥̪̟͂͋͑͠ ̴̧̧̡̖̠͓̽H̸̨̝̜̖̟̑͋̽͗͘ȩ̵̧̬̬̦̅̇͌͜͝a̶̩̰͋̾v̵̙̪̉̎ȩ̵̝̇͛̈̿̕n̵̬͉̓l̴̪͔̟͑̈̆̊̾̚y̷͔̽̅ ̴̰̈̄̈̊̂̈́H̴̛̭̬͐̅̓ö̵̦͉͓́ș̴̠̈̑̈́̈́̋t̶͈͓͈͗̀̈́̈́ͅ.̵̖̺̈́̉̕ͅ ̷̗̠̌͌̀͜H̶̡͔̫͎̪͌̽͛̈́̊͝ͅě̵͓͕͍̌̐̉̎͝ͅa̷̤͌̉̏̇v̷͚͕̲͇̈̆̆̇͝͝ę̷̳̭̖̦̟̿͊̒́̽n̷̨̹̞̞̠͒͊̉̌̔͝l̵̢̫̍̽͗y̴̤̤̽̓ ̷̨͖̻͈̠̲̍̎͊̕H̷̢̧̲̹͐̿ͅò̵̧̟͚͖̓s̸͖̗͕̜̳̞̋͌͒̄͒t̷̺̔͒͂͋̈́.̴̛͓͎̩̻͒̏̓̒͂ ̴̹̜̬̿̆͜H̴̢̙͇̩̼̅̄͋͊͝e̴̪̮͋a̵̘̿̌̉͝͠͠ṿ̸̱̊͌̒̓̋e̸̢̛͍̟̗̟̎̏͆̂͝n̸̘̞̋̏̈́͒̇͒l̷͙̲̳͓̘̦̆̽̉͂̚͝y̵͔̤̬̅͜ ̶͍͑̾̈́̓̊͝H̵̖͚͎͊̒̎̿o̶̤̥̿̊͑͘s̴̙̥̼̜͗̎̽̓t̵̠͋̓́͊͜.̵̡̝̹̰̼̝̎̃͝ ̷̜̭̬̻̔̊̍̏͑̚Ḧ̶̟̞̻̳̜́̏̅ȩ̷͇̙̙͖͎͆͐̂a̶̹̮̥̠͑́͛̕v̵̲̞͍̣̬̗̆̈́̕͠ḛ̶̹͙̤͍̱̃͑̈́͊ņ̶̪̀̑͑͝l̷̤͕̭͎͚̎̐̂͛̚ŷ̸̢͖̲͓̺ͅ ̸̳͍̈̚Ḧ̵̥̯̗́̿̓̇̓ȍ̵̧͉s̷̨̛̘̠͓̓̓̌ͅţ̴͍͓̭̗͕̆.̷̮̙̟͖͐̆́̀͂͝ͅ ̴̹͓̫͖̈́̓͠H̵̭̺̦͚͌̔͂̉ę̵̛́̐̓̽á̴̛͈͕́v̸̧͈̠͓̻̋͋̂͜͝ȅ̸̗̠̱͕̃̒͗̔͜n̶͖͂̃̀̾l̶̨̧̉̀̈́y̴̹̞̜͇̲̏͋̇́̽͠ ̵̣́̈́̍̈́̆H̵̲̒̋̀̊̀̅o̷͓͔̻̘̾͐̊͐͜s̴͉̝̊͂͝t̶̗̘͍̻̍̈́.̸̬͉̖̙͝ ̴̙̾̒̿̎͊͜H̸̡̻̗̎ê̸̢̛̦̬̘̠̫̽a̵̮͉͕̜̥͑̎̇̏̕͝v̵͚͔̈́͠ḝ̷̛͕̩͇̽̒͒n̴͖̘̬͙̟̺̔͋̓̈́́l̶̻̾́̀y̷̻̮̙̔ͅ ̸̢̣͔̒͋̓̇H̶̡̧̗̯͖̿́͛ͅò̴͍̞̟̹̑ṣ̵̽̇͘t̸̢̢̟͎͉͚̐.̸͈̖̫̆̕ ̷͈͒H̴̞͓̅e̷̝͖͋̃̋͂̏͛ä̴͖̫́́̚͝v̷̛̻̀͗͛ȩ̶͊͂͒ṉ̸̙̘̹̂̏̉ͅl̶͚͙̀̄̇y̶̡̡̱̪̖̿̀͜ ̸̛̛̦̹̑̉́H̴̛̗͓̬͉̃͝ͅȯ̴̡̮̠͎̥̺̈́͋s̸̡̮̫͓̭̊͐̋̎̾͠t̸̨̧̡̺̟̑̊.̵̛̘̲̒̑̆̄ ̸̜̗̰̪̐̆̇̑̏H̵̰̲̟̅́̂͛e̸̯̼̠̰̪̱̽á̶̛͎̲̀v̴̟̲͖̞̐͌́ê̶̲͕n̷͓̣̣̜̰̋̉̽͝ͅḻ̴̈́̈͛͗͝y̶̞͈͉̻̱͒̃̋̕ͅ ̴̧̮̀̓̕͝H̷̢̪͖̣͇̥̽̅̅̂̉̋ǒ̶͖͊̌̊͋s̵̢̢̭͔̲͍̐̂͒̒̿̎t̴̬͊̀.̷̧̨̺̯̿̏ ̵̧̥̗͊̓̄̾̈Ḩ̴̖̩̮͖̀̾́ͅe̶̩̼̾̀̿a̸̬̐̔͝v̴͍͇͊̀̏͆ę̶̡̖͉̣͋̇̃̈́͊̎n̶̛̹̤̫͍͓̘l̶͍̰͛̔̌̀y̸̢͐̾͑ ̶͓̠̯͔̌Ḧ̵̥̙͓́͋̇̎o̴̘͈̖̟͔͛͌́̕ş̴̮͙̑͜ṫ̵̹̯͉̜̰͙̃̋̇͠.̷̡̳͕̰̺̇̀ ̴̙͈̥̎͝Ḩ̵̪͆̏͌̌͜ê̵̤̺̬̈́͐̓̆ạ̷̡͠v̵̝̪̘̉͒͊̐͘é̸̬͙̫̙̩̆̒n̷̝̠̥̮͉͛l̷̮̝͂y̸̮̝͈̦͉̦̽ ̸̗̟̊͂̈́̚H̵̱͈̜͍͇̠̒̆͊̐ǫ̵̼̭͕͙̚s̶̳͑̂t̶̨̪̀͗͒.̵͇̑͛̽̃̇̾ ̶̖̒̅̋̚Ḩ̵̛̞͎̩̱̉͆͊̄e̴̢̛̩͍̓̔̂a̵̖̗͕̻̓̈́v̸͈̟̳͒͐́͠ę̵̳̘̳̘̘͝ǹ̵̢͕͍̼͚̈́́͑̎̕l̷̹͇̳̥̟̹̋̿͛̌ỹ̵̳̳̤ ̴̡̘̝͚͇̘͆͊̂͐̕͝Ḩ̶͓͕̜̠̏͑̂̄̀͋o̴̤͇̘̼͌̌͗̆͝ś̶̬̯͗̅̒t̸̢͍͠ͅ.̴͓͊ ̶͍̫̣̲̇͛̕H̷̪͂̽̀̆̕e̵̛̞̥̓́̚ͅa̵̝̭͐͊̂v̵̧̛̺̐̾͌̄̽e̶̩̝̻͆̈́n̶̢͍͓̭̰̂̎ļ̸̳͚̼̙̜̿̋͐͠y̸̧̻̙͈̪̮͑̓̊ ̵͕̝͐͐̚H̸͔̝͇̺͐̑̈́̓̓̀o̵̡̲̠̱̹̰̿̈́͛̍s̸̨͌͒̈́͂̓ẗ̴͇̓̀̃̉͆.̴̨̱̗͆̇̂̕ ̸̨̖͕̎͋̕H̷͇̼̏̐̀e̷͙̖̗̦̬̪͗ȁ̸̦̻̥ͅͅv̴͎̱̜͆e̶̤̼̣̥͆̚͠n̵̥͋l̸̛̲̠̈́̊̑̀̚ý̵̬̀͝ ̷̻̪̇H̵͈̤̺̑͠o̴̧̘̲̺̼̿͆͜s̶̰̥̹̐t̷̗̣̰̩̿.̴͉̩̪͙̺͔̐͊̃̓̍ ̶͔̳͙͚̉̍̑͗͘H̸̤̬̖̻͕̏͛̚ë̴̜̼́̀a̶̠̩̾v̵̠̪͚̪̿ͅe̷͚̩̬͂̃̈n̴͖͕̙̗̠̈́̓͂̌͂̋ḻ̴͗̒́̓ÿ̵̱̝̞͍̪̬́͝ ̴̨̲̝͓́̇́́̀H̶̛͙͙͐̓̀̐͘ͅö̵͈̞̖̯̱̰́s̶̥̻͓͇̟̺̉̑̉̎̌t̵͓̗̯̯̞͓̄́.̶̙̜͓̥̮̦̕ ̶̢͙̘̙̀Ḩ̷̥̠̩͒̍̈͑̂ė̴͚̐͛̑̽à̵̦̦̰̟v̴̛͖̦é̶͎̫̪̰͑̒͜n̷̛͚̦͌͋̓l̶̨̥̫̗̒y̴̖̆̔͜ ̷̧̝͎̽̄͛̃͜H̶̢̠̼́̓̉͗̍̈́o̸͕̖̯̺͗͆̒̀͆ş̵̹͎̬̳̔̈̿͒t̸͍͌̈́̌̓͝.̷̡̩͍͙̞̐́̂̆͛̈ ̵̻̜͈̯̤̏͊͌̽̇H̸̲̝̝̓̇͊̀̽̕ẽ̴̡̹̜̮̪͙̓͑͝͝a̸̢̢͓͖͕͉̅̆̅v̴̨͍̙̮̬̠̽̈̏̕ě̵͒̿͘͜n̸̳͔̫̭̱̙͛͑̽̀̿̉l̸̝͉͈͇̈́̋ẏ̴͉̐͋ ̶͙̼̮̥̉͌̃͊̆̚͜͜H̶̝͍̝͓́͆͆̔̈́̉o̶͈̎̑͌̍̈́͌s̴̨͓̭̰̱̥͠ẗ̴̢̪͍̜̘͎̆́̚.̸̨̔̓͌͝ ̴͓̈́̓̓̅̑H̴̦̠͈͔̒̑̀́ͅͅê̵̟̺̾̅a̴̛͍͂̈́͝v̵̫̬̯̘͙̈́e̷̼͙̗̥̜͐͑̍͒͂̕n̵̡̺̘̭̘͂l̴̦͙̱͗́̎̽͋y̴̘̯̰̥̻̏ ̸̦̘̫̯̓͂̒͗H̷͖̙͎̆̑͛͆̐̐͜o̶͔͉̺̝̳̪͐͂s̶͎͍͜͠t̶̲̗͎̿̐̿̚.̴̧̲̙̓͠ ̶̨̨͉̙̙̙̈́̍Ĥ̴͈̠̹̝̪́̐͠ȩ̸̼̗̳̻̗̉̈́͊̔a̸̻̫̙̲̺͕̓̕͝v̷̜̲̼͇̬̊̿̀͌̕ė̶̢͍͉̦̠̇̈́̈̒͜n̴̨̤̫͖̖͍̿͐͒͌̃́ḷ̵̮̬͗̑͊̌͠y̵̢̘̣͚̏̔̽ ̵̟̦̳̀̆̄͒̎͝H̵̳͕̟̣̣̒ơ̴̳͒̑̌͊̀ş̴̹͉̳͔̓̀́̋̔͘ͅẗ̶̢͍̺̻́̈́͆́̚͠.̸͔͖̫̍̔̔̓ ̶̜̫̱̟̔̆̎̚Ḩ̷͉̖͔̄̎ê̶̪̒̄̃̀̂ȧ̷̡̤̖̽v̶̳̳͓̜͖͐͆ͅẹ̷͔̞͕͔͑̇̅́̓̊ṇ̷̣̗̐͊̀l̸̥̎̈y̸̻̣͓̌͌͗͋ ̸̧͉͉͚̤̈́̒͂̐͜H̷̗̺̣̥̤̉̅̓͂ö̶̧̫̱͚̤̲́̉̀̊͌͝ṣ̷͑́̒́͠ţ̶̢̧̙̱̄̾́̆͠.̸̘̞̈́̏̈́̍ ̷̛̭͈̗̭̄H̴͚̓̈́͛͋e̸̻̘͗̂̍͐͒ä̵͕͖́͒̾́̐̕v̴͕̓́ę̴̬̰̰͎̐n̴͔̤̼̰͒̌l̸̫͛̈́̊͘̚͘y̸̭̩̓̉̆͒̊̄ͅ ̶̣̯͎͍̥̌Ḩ̸̳͈̙͓̂͒͗͌̒̃ó̶̡̟̭̽́̕ś̶̨̺͖͓̒ṫ̵̢̛̠̺̥̋͛̊͘.̵̻̄́
The place of eternal damnation, whose name was made known to him.
And, he would glance upon five individuals. Five young men. However one of them suddenly became a boy of about seven years of age. All of them were Japanese. Accompanying them was a tall foreign man with a navy blue trenchcoat, and distinguishing himself from the rest, there was a bright and wibbly aura that engulf around this foreign man.
A̶̢̤̞̜͈̩͑̿͂͌̋͘Ņ̵͖͕̮͗͋͑͛A̷̢̱͍̽̂T̶̫̓̇H̸̨̝̻͇̪͒̅͝͝Ȅ̷̻̲͊͌M̷̧̗̺͐À̶̰̝͓̳͐͑͆!̴̮̠͍̀ ̶̛͕̟̂̆ͅW̴̢̠̾-̷̛̛̬̝͂͗͘̕Ȃ̴̢̖̯͔͖̈́̍̃̊̓-̵̡̡̗͈̃̒́́͠T̷̞̍̑͌-̷̡̔͂̓̚͘C̵̭̖̖̗̤̄̐̈-̸̛̣͎̼̖̒H̵̞̄͌́͘̕͝-̵̖̬͚̻̭̑̌̈́̉͘͝M̸̛̮̖͒̒̓͆-̴̡̆͐̆̆̔̅Ǎ̴̬̈́̇̿̇-̴̛̰̲͇͖̣̖͂̔̒̃͗K̷̛͓̙͇͕͙̀̽̋̃-̴̰̯̱̩͉́̽̓̇E̷͓̎̓́͂͜-̶̡̫̟̗͚̤̅Ṟ̴̨͓̤̭̞̊̊̀̓̚!̴̝̪̐̐͝
An accursed tongue cursed the tall foreign man. Hatred boils like a thousand dying stars.
Gilead recognized all of them.
"...Touma, Shinichi, Kyon, Souta, Lelouch... and Doctor?"
He could not help but mutter. A million thoughts would wander in his mind. Why were they a part of this vision? The information would pour out of him.
And then, he would find at least nine more people. Names passed by his mind. Three young men. Five young women. One teacher. All of them were also Japanese. Memories of brutal murders, memories of running, memories that never were passed through his mind. He would see a bluish-green planet, his Earth, and he would see another Earth, a smaller one compared to his, unnaturally splitting backward and forming another separated realm. And that realm would sprout into more Earths with their own history. Parallel. Intersecting. Karmic.
Satoshi Mochida. Yoshiki Kishinuma. Sakutaro Morishige. Naomi Nakashima. Seiko Shinohara. Ayumi Shinozaki. Mayu Suzumoto. Yuka Mochida. Yui Shishido.
And then, something mysterious happened.
It was someone who was encased in a suit of advanced technological armor, with a silver band in the center, along with silver ornaments on the sides of his shoulders. His chest armor had pink highlights on the hips and forelegs. On the forearms, there were watch holders that carried two blank watches on the right and the left. A silver watch would say "Bike" in Japanese that was seen on his left holder. The hands were black, with pink armor on his fingers and backhand. The helmet of the armor looked like a clock with a white clock piece. It had a symbol that spelled "Kamen" on the forehead and a black visor whose pink katakana letters were becoming a little luminescent.
...Once upon a time, there was a knight-paladin who would be king, a young man who would be forced to face the darkness of a terrible D̵͓̫͕͓͚̟́̽͜ŗ̴͖̭̖̝͈̮̍̃͑ȧ̵̢̺͓̳̒̾̊̎g̸͎̳̭̝̙̅̈́͆̿͑̎͜o̸̧͚̩̹̓͛̓͂̓̿͠ņ̴̙̀.
A story. A legend. A myth. And Gilead knew. He knew who the armored man was. He knew him, just as he knew the others. He was a close ally to the Knights of the Holy Order. Their enemies were his enemies, by nature of the burden that he was bestowed.
...Once upon a time, there was a knight-paladin who was the chosen heir of Excalibur and Caliburn.
Two technologically advanced swords were seen crossing both sides, sticking to the ground.
...Once upon a time, there was a knight-paladin whose name was Saint George Artorius the Great, the Red Cross Knight.
The armor would disappear, revealing a young man with sad but firm golden brown eyes with a purplish color.
H̸͕̖̱̥̿̀̔͗̎ͅ-̶̗̆̓̋͗ͅA̵̗̤̟͂̓̋̿ͅ-̵͓̙͎͘Ȉ̴̡̘̭̩͖̎͘͠ͅ-̶̗͇̻͎͖͇͖̃͊L̵̡̻̪̩̰͈̈́̆̕!̸̢̛̖͎̻̦̟͉́̈́͊̐̔̀ͅ ̴͚̙̳̮͕̾̎͛̒͆́̂͜͜ͅH̴̲͇̿̄̏̒͘͜-̴̡̗̗̘̣͕̐̂͗͗Ÿ̶̡̲̳͚͛͆̇͠-̵̜͕͙̭̪͖̫̉͝D̵̤̝͆͂̿̌̂͂͘-̵̈̄̋͋̓̿̀ͅR̵̡͕̥̠̝̪̯̎͐̉-̸̧̈́̐̀̓̉̔̑͘A̸͍͕̲͖͎̞̫͌̓͜!̵̭̹͎́ͅ
And, as the young man would summon his blades - Excalibur and Caliburn - he would come face to face with his enemies that were by the multitude. Gathering around him were soldiers that Gilead would recognize with wide-open eyes. These soldiers were invading Heavenly Host by the thousands.
H̸͕̖̱̥̿̀̔͗̎ͅ-̶̗̆̓̋͗ͅA̵̗̤̟͂̓̋̿ͅ-̵͓̙͎͘Ȉ̴̡̘̭̩͖̎͘͠ͅ-̶̗͇̻͎͖͇͖̃͊L̵̡̻̪̩̰͈̈́̆̕!̸̢̛̖͎̻̦̟͉́̈́͊̐̔̀ͅ ̴͚̙̳̮͕̾̎͛̒͆́̂͜͜ͅH̴̲͇̿̄̏̒͘͜-̴̡̗̗̘̣͕̐̂͗͗Ÿ̶̡̲̳͚͛͆̇͠-̵̜͕͙̭̪͖̫̉͝D̵̤̝͆͂̿̌̂͂͘-̵̈̄̋͋̓̿̀ͅR̵̡͕̥̠̝̪̯̎͐̉-̸̧̈́̐̀̓̉̔̑͘A̸͍͕̲͖͎̞̫͌̓͜!̵̭̹͎́ͅ
The soldiers were wearing yellow jumpsuits with green tactical vests and combat webbing, image enhancement goggles, and gas masks coupled with helmets. On the armbands seen on the right shoulder, there was a symbol. It depicted a skull on top but without the jawline, followed by octopus tentacles with suction cups, with each tentacle having a space that is reminiscent of gears. They all have general-purpose machine phaser rifles that can fire automatic particle cannon fire.
The words are clear...
HAIL HYDRA! HAIL HYDRA! HAIL HYDRA! HAIL HYDRA! HAIL HYDRA! HAIL HYDRA!
Echoes of a war cry...
HAIL HYDRA! HAIL HYDRA! HAIL HYDRA! HAIL HYDRA! HAIL HYDRA! HAIL HYDRA!
He can see his world - the Earth - becoming divided into two possibilities. Two futures. None of them were quite pleasant.
In one future where the N̸͕̿͜ị̶̧̼͓̣̯͆̃͒͗͆̈́͜͝r̷̘̮̝͍̹̥͖͂̈́̃̈́͗̑̚̚v̵̢̢̟̺̯͕̹̓̋̀̚̕͝à̸̢̺̂̕n̶̛̰̻̞̻̆͆͐̿̿̕ͅá̸͇̞͚̜̞̄̄̂͌̂̕͝ reigned, chaos filled the air. He would see the city of Tokyo, Japan. Well, was the city of Tokyo, Japan. It was once the capital city filled with a population of an estimated 37.468 million residents in the charter of 2018. Now, it was lying in ruins, reduced to a pile of rubble. Ashes and dust were raining down from the greyish skies. From his heightened senses, what he saw was once Mount Fujii, has erupted for the very first time in over a hundred years, having last erupted from the years 1707 to 1708. Unnatural crimson lightning was seen flashing from the skies, striking at the top of the ruined skyscrapers. There was a giant black hole that was present in the sky.
In the other future where the H̴̨̖̰̫̘͍̳̙́̉̈́͆̎̍͊y̵̰̝̱͚͚̫̮͆̔̚d̷̨̨̳̘͍̤͎́r̸̛̼̳̺͚̠͓̯͈͐͂̾̉a̶̛͍̜̣̞̣͚̞̘̋͛̍̅͝ reigned, there was a new world order that had been established. Symbols were seen to replace the flag of the nation of Japan. All that was left was the symbol of an organization that reigned. Crime quelled. Corruption eradicated. Soldiers were seen, carrying the symbol as armbands, and were marching like a parade. People were terrified, horror filled their eyes, and Gilead would see mothers and children weep.
And afterwards...
"...Elite Knight-Paladin of the Holy Order."
A voice echoed, speaking his native American English tongue, bringing the vision to an end. A flash of light filled his vision. And the light receded to reveal a young woman dyed in white. He was reminded of the young girl dyed in red before. But... ...Something felt different. This was a different person entirely. He can tell based on his sense of sight that bordered on the spiritual. He can see that the eyes of the girl who carried gentle eyes filled with hope and wonder could not be the same hollowed eyes from before.
"You do not know who I am, but someone that you know does. Touma Kamijou. My brother."
Gilead became a little surprise. How? How was she communicating with him like this? His Future Sight had done a few things in the past, but never an outright communication between one to another.
"Please, listen to what I have to say. Our world and everything else depends upon it."
Gilead, upon waking up from the vision, would head straight to the office of the Grand Commander.
Grand Commander Jericho Walls. The man who was in charge of the entire USA Branch of the Order. He was an aged man who appeared to be in his mid-sixties, with white hair and a white facial beard. He was wearing what appeared to be reminiscent of a religious monk, one that had a brown cloak and hood. Almost all of his clothing looked brown, even the footwear that he would use which was that of simple slippers.
He told him everything. He told him what the girl dyed in white - Sachiko Shinozaki - had told him. From the specifics of the future threat, it is divided into two, one of the Nirvana and the other of the Hydra. A prophecy of doom and gloom that relates to nine individuals at a high school located in the city of Tenjin. The involvement of the Time Lord known as the Doctor, along with five companions. And many other things that were described personally to Gilead in detail.
"...I see."
The Grand Commander sported a grim expression. He pondered everything that his subordinate, someone whom he considered to be a son, had told him. He would stand up from his chair and speak.
"Then, following this timely warning, the Holy Order of the Covenant will act accordingly."
He would walk towards Gilead and put a hand on his shoulder.
"As you are one of the best of us, and with the full context of the situation, I am entrusting this to you, my son. I on the other hand will need to fully inform Grand Master Giovanni Boccaccio about this as well. I fear that war may be upon us all very soon, hence the Knights of the Holy Order, no matter where, will all take arms when the time comes."
Insert Song: End
Insert Song: Start
Sagitta Luminis · Yuki Kajiura
PART 3
Somewhere on another Earth, there was a young man who was silently praying inside the cathedral. There was barely anyone there. Only him. Kneeling on the pew.
He had a handsome face, black hair, and golden brown eyes with a hint of purple. He wore a brown jacket with white lines on his shoulders, dark grey jeans, and Converse white shoes with red colors.
His name was George Kurai. And right now, he was simply praying silently.
How long had he been praying? Hours it would seem.
"PATER noster, qui es in cœlis; sanctificetur nomen tuum: Adveniat regnum tuum; fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cœlo, et in terra. Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie: Et dimitte nobis debita nostra, sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris: et ne nos inducas in tentationem: sed libera nos a malo. Amen."
Along the center rail, there was a young girl who appeared so suddenly, as if in a flash.
She had long white hair with two small pigtails. Her eyes are orange and yellow. She was wearing casual attire that consisted of a pink sailor-styled polka-dotted dress with a white-collar and cuffs and brown stripes on both. Under her puffy sleeves, she wears long brown sleeves. At the edge of her collar is a brown bow and at the edge of the dress is a brown stripe and white ruffles under it. Inside the collar, the flap is wine red with white lace and a brown stripe. She wears tights of the same color and brown shoes with a pink bow on top.
She walks on until she eventually draws near to George. With a smile on her face, she said.
"George-kun."
George opens his eyes slowly and turns his head to the right.
"Momoe-san," George addressed the young girl, Nagisa Momoe, with a respectful tone. "What is it?"
"Madoka is calling for you," Nagisa spoke with a smile on her face. "You and Tatsuya-kun are needed right now."
"...Ah, I understand," George nodded.
And then, he would glance once more at the large crucifix that was on the front center. He would make the sign of the cross before he eventually stood up. He would walk alongside Nagisa along the center rail. Eventually, both of them would slowly disappear.
Then they would end up somewhere strange and mysterious.
It was some kind of throne room, and yet there was no throne. Yet it appeared so innocent, but still carrying a sense of majesty. Childish decorations were littered and seen to encapsulate the themes of the large hall.
"Madoka, we're back!" Nagisa spoke with a smile, waving at someone.
Unseen no longer, something materialized.
George could feel the greater feminine pulse of divine power that was coming from beyond, a power that was greater than his own, deliberately limiting herself to merely a pale shadow of what she was now. Sparkles would come, and then a bright white light, and then the light evaporates, revealing a beautiful woman.
She was somewhere appearing to be in her 20s, with long pink hair with two white ribbons nestled on top of her head standing in the center, near George and Nagisa. Her long white dress billowed out around her, and her slender hands were seen to interlace together. Her expression was ever so young, ever so innocent, with a kind maternal smile. Her wide oval-shaped eyes were her most striking feature, with a flash of brilliance that held a great deal of wisdom. Happiness, but also sadness.
Madoka Kaname, the Law of Cycles, had come once more.
She smiled at them both, but most especially with George.
"Hello once again, George, I hope I was not bothering you," Madoka apologized.
"You did not bother me at all, my lady," George bowed his head a little lower out of respect.
"...Hmm," Madoka made a sad smile. "George, how many times do I have to say that you should not be so formal with me, seeing as you are a god-king by rank as well?"
"None greater than you, of course," George shakes his head at the compliment before eventually getting down to business. "With respect, my lady, what made you call me? And where's Tatsuya?"
"Oh," Nagisa put both of his hands together and made a contrite expression. "I'm sorry, I have yet to bring Tatsuya-kun over. I'll be right back."
And then, Nagisa would disappear, leaving George and Madoka alone for a bit. George noticed that her expression turned to one of a frown, unbefitting for someone like her.
"...As I were to answer your question, George, this relates to one peculiar thing. A problem has occurred, somewhere in a record beyond my control, the record where the mysterious Night Baron exists."
"Kudo-senpai?" George noted with concern. "What about him?"
"They, along with Lord Doctor and four others are about to face something terrible. A Dark Old One, trapped in a twisted realm of corpses and shadows. A threat that would seek its sights on the Seven Worlds of Wonder, that would include my own, if he were to be released. Hence it is why the Dark Old One whom we are more than familiar with is now using his minions to stop the other Dark Old One from escaping its chains, and perhaps, may even try to eradicate its existence, forever."
"...What is the Dark Old One's name?" George asks, narrowing his eyes in inquiry.
And Madoka would mention a name. The name of the Dark Old One who controls the realm of Heavenly Host from one single pawn.
"Z͠a̛'l͘ga̶t҉ot̡h."
Insert Song: End
ED Song:
【ARTERY VEIN】Confutatis no Inori (Full Version)【CP Blood Covered】【Eng Lyrics】