Prologue:"I'm done with Gematria"
Frustration
Annoyance
DISSAPOINTMENT
These emotions churned within the mind of the Primeval Scholar, the latest member of Gematria. This secretive group of outsider adults to the world of Kivotos. He has been with these 4 other "adults" for the better part of 6 months. Half a year of discovery and assistance, certainly. But also, half a year of tolerating the short-sighted greed of his fellow members.
At first, he had some positive expectations to what he hoped were fellow seekers of truth in this mysterious world known as Kivotos. They may be eclectic and bizarre, but initial impressions of the members had some positives. And for a while, the Primeval Scholar had even believed that they would be competent partners in understanding the mysteries of this world.
But as each meeting dragged on, he realized that the members of Gematria, who pride themselves of the attributes of "adulthood", are nothing more than greedy, short-sighted, egotistical overgrown brats. Proud of their freedom to oppress those not of themselves. Ecstatic at the thought of destroying the source of their desires in a foolish attempt to take more than is needed.
Their actions sicken the Scholar. In his 2000 years of existence back in his original reality of Ousiai, he had met many "villains". Individuals who have forsaken the happiness and well-being of the many, for the benefit of the few. He has seen all kinds, from the noble to the depraved, the proud and the insecure, the fearful and the arrogant. Some of them had goals that are understandable, even relatable. Yet some are so hilariously, pathetically and shallowly evil that they would be considered sad caricatures of poorly written stories.
And Gematria is certainly leaning a bit more on the carelessly evil than the noble villain. Well, not equally. Some are worthy of greater scorn than others. The Scholar begins to observe his current colleagues as they talked and bickered amongst each other.
"The desperate and passionate rescue of a stricken comrade-turned-traitor by her still faithful comrades. A somewhat tired trope, yet this Sensei has breathed new life to it with her empathy and compassion. Is she the Protagonist this aimless story has long awaited?"
"But of course!"
Golconde and Decalcomania. A portrait of the head of a man facing away from view, and a headless man in a coat holding it. The "man" specializes in texts, language, stories and their significance. Golconde has a habit of describing aspects of the world in the form of story tropes. Decalcomania, however, has only ever said "But of course!" or similar renditions of said sentence.
The Scholar initially suspected them to be 2 parts of 1 whole, but further observations seem to imply a certain separation between the entities "Golconde" and "Decalcomania". He could not be certain. His scanning and monitoring spell structures have been less than effective on not only Gematria, but the rest of Kivotos as well.
This "man" has also proved to be quite elusive, compared to the rest of Gematria. The Scholar does not know if this is because of skill in obfuscation, or the simplicity of his research leaving little in the way of a trail. All the Primeval Scholar knows is that this "man" knows secrets about Kivotos that he is not particularly eager to share, at least to the Scholar. A strange, and dangerous "person".
Yet the strangeness does not end there. Remarks from this "man" indicate that he believes of a grand narrative story binding Kivotos, and perhaps that we, him included, are nothing but characters of said narrative.
He is not exactly wrong. The Scholar's research on other universes has shown certain sets of realities that are bound strongly by a predefined destiny. A "plot" that must be followed. Some realities utterly collapse if this "plot" is not followed, while others can adjust to changes, if with some instabilities and unpredictability here and there.
The [Kivotos Finite Worldset] do show some characteristics similar to a [Narrative-Bound Reality]. However, there are some hints and details here and there that point to something more complicated binding the fate of Kivotos. Traces of causal and temporal manipulation, centering primarily on Sanctum Tower and the now missing General Student Council President. Two targets of research that proved near impossible to observe, due to said traces and the suppression of the Scholar's [Projects].
The Primeval Scholar no longer has access to the many instruments or large scale [Projects] of his Institute back in his home reality. And the personal [Projects] that reside in his body and soul are suppressed. Something is preventing the Scholar from unleashing the full might of his internalized spells, systems and aetheric mechanisms. Either an unknown party, or perhaps even the laws of reality that make up Kivotos itself. Though this has been quite a headache in terms of research, the suppression has also served to hide most of his capabilities from the curious eyes of Gematria.
"Ah, the fear of loss! The hope of rescue! The determination of a courageous heart! Such a grand display of raw human emotion! And to tug the hearts of actors unrelated to this play! This Sensei is more of an artisan that I first realized!"
Maestro. The odd, 2 headed wooden doll clad in a blue tailcoat and bowtie of simple design reminiscent of musicians. No, conductor would be a more apt comparison. The most artistic of the 4, his talent for the arts cannot be denied, and neither can one deny his undying passion for them. And his creations are certainly intriguing. The first drafts for the musical piece "Gregorius" were a pleasure to the ears, combining the elegance of classical music with the invigorating beats of modern musical genres.
But he is far too passionate about the arts. Passion is important and valuable, but too much of anything is dangerous. Something he may have taken to heart as he has a habit of creating dangerous art. His research with the Mimesis has resulted in artistic creations of questionable safety and practicality, to both his "audience" and himself.
Impassioned, narcissistic, driven, egotistical. Such are the apt descriptors of Maestro. An artist so full of himself that he has deemed himself the worthiest appreciator and criticizer of his works. Even if he has yet to realize this personal failing.
"This Sensei is clearly a threat to all our efforts. Look at how she has rallied students from completely different academies. Even the Tea Party of Trinity has contributed to her attack with their artillery. With Gehenna's Prefect Team no less! If we allow her to continue, she could jeopardize my plans with Arius and Trinity! We need to eliminate her now!"
Beatrice. The red-skinned woman with a head of feathers festooned with many eyes. Or perhaps bitch is a more apt noun to describe this sad wretch of woman? No, calling her a bitch is an insult to female dogs and promiscuous women across realities. Out of the 4 members, the Scholar dislikes the Mistress of Arius the most. A heart blackened by hate, vitriol and arrogance. A mind too narrowed by ego to even think of the possibility of her being wrong or being beaten. She hadn't even realized that the Scholar had gathered some information on her operations, an act expressly forbidden among the members of Gematria.
Though he suspects the so-called respectable "adults" of Gematria are spying on each other all the time. The Scholar himself has noticed attempts to breach the fake laboratories and workshops he set up as decoys for his research and operations.
Slightly shaking his head out of its musings, the Scholar refocuses his attention on Beatrice. It is truly a shame that she has such a pathetically sad soul, as even the Scholar must admit that her outer appearance exudes grace, elegance and beauty. When she has control over herself, that is. And not falling to typical bouts of self-indulgent anger, like she is doing right now.
"Now now Beatrice. There is no need for such rash actions against the Sensei of Schale. Even you must admit that she possesses the talent and potential to join our group. An adult of such caliber does not arrive often in Kivotos. It would be a loss to our efforts if such an interesting subject of research is to be eliminated before we truly know the truth of her nature."
Black Suit. A man made of an unknown black material, with cracks across it making up his features. Clad in a three-piece suit of deep black, this "man" was the one to convince the Primeval Scholar to join Gematria in the first place.
Black Suit was the first among Gematria to notice the arrival of the Primeval Scholar in Kivotos. Granted, the Scholar was already in Kivotos for 4 and half months already. But the Scholar had to give some respect to anyone who managed to pierce through his [Shroud of False Truth], even if it was weakened.
His respect only grew when Black Suit explained his desire to discover the mysteries of the [Mystic] and [Terror]. The Scholar thought that he had found a fellow researcher of knowledge and understanding in Black Suit. Black Suit even shared the same practical mentality that dictated most of the Scholar's decisions.
But the Scholar's respect quickly evaporated when he discovered the methods that Black Suit liked to use. Excessively destructive and expensive ways to extract information from subjects. It was then that the Scholar realized that Black Suit is closer to an impatient under-magus than a pure seeker of Truth. And his mindset is infuriatingly similar to the guild masters of the many mage, alchemy, or artificer guilds; prioritizing short-term gains for long-term advantages. This was proven completely when the Scholar discovered his so-called "research experiment plans" for Ms. Takanashi Hoshino, the student bearing the Mystic of Horus.
He scowls as he remembers his confrontation with Black Suit about his pathetic excuse of an experimental methodology. And how adamant Black Suit was in claiming how "necessary" his methods are, and how "close" he is to an answer to the mystery of [Mystic].
He was an amateur, an apprentice too impatient and arrogant to change his imperfect methods for more sensible methods just because it doesn't give immediate results.
PATHETIC
As he tunes out the insipid voices of his comrades, the Scholar looks back to how he ended up in this sorry group.
The Primeval Scholar's latest [Grand Project] was the [Aleph Null Nexus], a base of operations outside any pre-existing realities, but still "conceptually adjacent" (as distance has no meaning in the space between realities) to Ousiai, his home reality. This base outside of reality allowed the Logos Institute a safe and conducive space to continue their research on other realities. Planes of existence outside of their own, with laws, concepts, matter and energies completely foreign to the Primeval Scholar and his researchers within the Logos Institute.
This project lasted for nearly 200-300 years (specifics are unclear, due to certain accidents messing with the flow of time), spanning multiple realities. After numerous setbacks, failures, alliances with fellow realities breaching into multiversal travel, and a substantial amount of fighting against forces within and outside realities, the culmination of the [Alep Null Nexus] bore fruit.
The [Aleph Gates] were finally completed.
The [Gates] allowed for simple(somewhat), inexpensive(relatively), stable(usually) and repeatable(mostly) travel between the [Nexus] and any target reality. Many trials have been conducted on the [Gates], with an average 70% success rate.
Normally, the Primeval Scholar would not attempt to use a [Project] so early in its development. But [Blind Eyes of Eternity], the multiversal monitoring sensor-suite of the [Nexus], reported readings from a certain set of parallel realities. Readings both intriguing and concerning. Of a vast, nearly infinite set of roughly the same identical worlds, shrouded completely in something that prevents most forms of observation or interference from outside realities. Except for key "points" that open quicker than cause and close even quicker than effect. And this entire [Finite Worldset] is surrounded by an extraplanar entity of impossible colors and scintillating un-colors.
The researchers of the Logos Institute, and the various realities allied with the [Nexus], urged immediate investigation of this curiosity of the multiverse. Mostly out of fear of the Entity of Scintillating Colors. The [Nexus] and its allies had fought extraplanar gods before, and they were NOT eager to repeat such a harrowing experience.
Because of the horror, the damage, the impossibility, the agony of their very existence being torn by conflicting truths.
And because they almost always lost horribly against such [Outer Gods].
And so, the Primeval Scholar found himself volunteering to investigate this strange set of realities.
Because he was the most qualified?
Because no one else would do so?
Because he wished to spare his people the horror of yet another harrowing of the [Outer Gods]?
Because he hungered for the mysteries of such an enigmatic reality?
He does not know. Perhaps it is one of these. Perhaps it is all of these. Perhaps it is none of these.
It matters not. Not anymore. For now he is stuck in one of the many iterations of the world known as Kivotos.
And he is stuck with these pretenders to the title of Truth Seekers. Overgrown brats who think they are "adults" because they have more than others. More age, more power, more riches, more experience, more trauma, more hate, more scorn, more ruthlessness. As if such things are the only necessities of an "adult".
The Primeval Scholar is less than pleased.
The Primeval Scholar HATES it here, in a room with this farce of "adulthood".
The Primeval Scholar doubts he can take much more of this.
But he also doubts breaking the pact. Achieving the age of 2000 years has made him cautious. Paranoid actually. He could not help but consider the benefits of remaining in Gematria. And the consequences of making enemies of Gematria. Idiots that they are, they remain capable still. Even that red-skinned pondscum has an entire school of brain-washed girls as her personal army.
His reverie is broken as Black Suit addresses him.
"And what of you, Scholar? How do you see this newest visitor to Kivotos?"
The Scholar looks to Black Suit, then to the other members of Gematria. Then he brings his eyes to his enchanted stone slate, displaying the image of the Sensei of Schale as she begins the operation to rescue Takanashi Hoshino.
"This Sensei, Maria. An outsider like myself, but with far, far lesser resources. From my perspective she nothing more than a common mortal woman. A being that should be by all means easy to defeat."
Beatrice leans forward, hoping that this newest member agreed with her instead of constantly complaining like the rest of Gematria.
"So, you agree with eliminating this threat, yes? I am aware you retain abilities from your origin. Surely you can create something to kill this Sen-"
"Yet despite her frailness", the Scholar cuts off Beatrice, continuing his musings, "she has achieved something remarkable. Bolstering morale from the depths of despair. Rallying what should be broken students to one success after another. Convincing two groups who should hate each other's existence to ally with one another, for a cause that does not immediately benefit them."
Beatrice's many eyes narrow, angry of the newest member singing even more praise to the Sensei of Schale.
"Hah, you sound like you've fallen in love with her. Surely not, oh Primeval Scholar?" She asks with mocking vitriol dripping off every word.
Maestro gasps, "The old actor siding with the new!? How deliciously scandalous!"
"An old twist, the villain siding with the heroine. But the classics remain classics for a reason." Golconde chimes in.
"But of course!"
"Perhaps it should have been you that spoke to Sensei, Scholar. That praise of yours may have convinced her to join us, rather than my admittedly flawed approach." Black Suit muses while smiling at the Scholar's words.
The Primeval Scholar seems to ignore Gematria, continuing to stare at his odd stone slate. The image of Sensei leading her students against Kaiser's initial forces projects clear from its surface despite the obvious lack of electronics.
"Will you still keep the secret of your slate to yourself, Scholar?" asks Maestro, "The masterpieces I could create with such wondrous techniques, why I am positively giddy with inspiration. Do you not desire such wondrous works as well?"
The Scholar continues to ignore them. Observing how Sensei orders her students against Kaiser. Her orders speak of tactical acumen. Is it experience she draws from, or just a talented mind? The Scholar is unsure.
Beatrice snaps her fan close, frustration evident on the fine features wasted on her face, "Will you STOP staring at that thing and answer us!"
A frown appears on the Scholar's face as he turns his eyes towards Beatrice. "You are mistaken to assume that I have fallen in love with Sensei, as you so boldly and petulantly claim." He lines his words with the same vitriol Beatrice employs with her speech.
"How dare yo-"
"Yes I DARE YOU RED-SKINNED B-", the Scholar catches himself, and grimaces in frustration. "What I mean to say, is that I cannot help but wonder how such a simple mortal woman could achieve so much with so little under so short a time. Compared to us, with resources and influence, why she has basically beaten us in our own rigged game, with nothing but pawns and grit. Surely you're not blind enough with your ego to see that much?"
Black Suit interjects before Beatrice could scream at this insolent newbie, "What are you implying, Scholar? That she has hidden capabilities we are not aware of? We already have some information concerning the Shittim Chest, and clues to its abilities. Those are enough reasons for her-"
"You are not seeing it Black Suit. Even the ability to make miracles isn't foolproof, not on such a limited vessel. She or the chest are not Gods. And that tablet is insufficient to warp reality substantially or constantly."
"Then what ARE you implying then, Scholar?"
"That in this regard, Suit, she is better than me. And she is certainly better than the rest of you."
Rage twists the face of Beatrice, as Golconde remarks on the Scholar's words, "Are you sure you've not fallen for her Scholar? That was quite the high praise, especially if what I suspect of your age is true."
The Scholar raises his eyebrow at Golconde's remark. He had not shared a lot of his personal knowledge to Gematria, only several insights to the mysteries of this world from the perspective of a magically inclined world like Ousiai along with simple spells related to their research. And he has certainly not shared his age. His current body has the appearance of a young man getting a bit on in the years, on the late 20s to mid-30s from visual detail alone. The Scholar could not be sure what Golconde thinks his age is, but paranoia dictates that the strange portrait man has a good clue of his actual 2000-year age.
As Beatrice breathes in to deliver what is likely yet another scathing accusation, the Primeval Scholar turns to Black Suit and asks, "What are your plans if Sensei is unable to rescue Ms. Takanashi from Kaiser's grasp?"
"You insolent welp, I'll-"
"Why, Scholar, I aim to continue my research on the Mystic of Horus, of course. I promised I wouldn't interfere with Sensei's rescue attempt. But if she fails, then I can presume that I have won this little battle. After all, it is unlikely that Kaiser will keep Horus in that cell. Not if they wish to hold their end of the deal with me."
"Don't ignore me you fuc-"
"And what of your research, Suit? Do you still intend to continue with that barbaric excuse for an experiment?"
"Barbaric? You wound me, Scholar. How can it be barbaric, when the methods are designed specifically to extract the most information from the Mystic with-"
"Your methods will break Ms. Hoshino, Suit! Permanently! Are you so desperate and arrogant that you would break a priceless vase into dust, just to have a sample for your microscope?"
"If that is what is needed, then so be it. I wouldn't like to lose such a valuable Mystic, but needs must. My timeframe is not nearly as generous as you think it is, Scholar."
"Your limited timeframe is of your own volition, Suit. Don't patronize me like you do with those scraps at Kaiser."
"This is not the work of a scholar, Black Suit."
"What you intend to do to Takanashi Hoshino is nothing but the arrogant, careless hacking of an amateur butcher."
Black Suit's "face" finally shows frustration, his ire growing with every remark from the Scholar's mouth.
"Why? Why?! WHY?! Why are you so insistent on the methods of my research?! Why do you demand such limitations to search for Truth?! Do not tell me you are feeling responsible for this student as well, Scholar! Or are you more like the Sensei of Schale? Will you give me a rousing speech on the value of caring for these children as well?!"
The Scholar seems to have struck a nerve, he notes wryly. His instincts tell him that what Black Suit just ranted to him probably had similarities to his failed negotiations with the Sensei of Schale.
"No Black Suit, I do not condemn you or Gematria's methods purely on moral or ethical grounds, though I will admit that those play into my decisions as well."
"HA, so you are similar to Sensei. Do you wish to start teaching as well?"
The Scholar snaps, slamming his hand on the table they have gathered around
"LISTEN TO ME YOU IGNORANT BRATS! Just because you have more age and experience doesn't mean that you can safely ignore the consequences of your actions! Do you really believe everything will go your way because your opponents are children led by a single adult?! A scorpion can kill even a queen ant with ease, but it stands no chance against the entire swarm! Or have you forgotten that you HIDE from Kivotos, rather than the other way around?"
Beatrice finally gets the chance to talk down to this idealistic fool, "Your opinion on these stupid kids is misplaced Scholar. Look at my Arius, an entire school of gullible children, who adore me and my teachings, who are willing to die for the misery I have given them. That is all the eviden-"
"AND YOU!" Rage fills the Scholars face, his eyes darkening to pure black as one of his internal systems activate in preparation for a perceived threat. "Your pathetic play as a dictatorial mother-queen is LAUGHABLE! Misery? Hopelessness? Despair? What are you, a 2nd grader with Chuunibyou? Should I bring you a black plastic trench coat with some fingerless gloves?! Maybe some mall-store katanas and nice little fedora to complete your delusions while I'm at it!"
Beatrice, nearly apoplectic with rage, throws her fan at the Scholar with all her might. It strikes the Scholar and the face and bounces off, flying to the floor.
The Scholar's eyes do not even flinch at the strike, only losing its black luster. It then narrows in dissatisfaction and more disappointment.
"Ah yes, the petulant tantrum. Please, go ahead. Stomp all over the room while you're at it. Get it out of your system, you spoiled wretch of a woman."
Before Beatrice could act, a black hand with white cracks dancing across it grabs her arm. Her many rage-filled eyes glared at Black Suit, who shakes his head. The Scholar is one of the most dangerous members of Gematria in terms of immediate strength, given the nature of his Magic and [Projects], both of which Black Suit is aware of, if not their specific details. However, compared to the rest, the Scholar's economic and political might is nonexistent. If Gematria wishes to strike back against the Scholar, it would need to be through those channels.
But before all that, Black Suit needs to clarify something from the Primeval Scholar.
"You do realize the extent of what you are doing, right Primeval Scholar?", Black Suit asks, both as inquiry and as a threat, "It would be quite hypocritical if you don't, what with your previous speech about the consequences of our actions."
"Oh, I do, Black Suit. I most definitely do." The Primeval Scholar grabs his cane, a simple rod of wood made from a branch of a tree, of a species unknown to Gematria. Its top are branches from the trunk of the cane, cut into a smooth shape for the Scholar's hand. Nestled between the branches is a large, rough, uncut and dirt grimed hunk of crystal, from the looks likely a large quartz.
The Primeval Scholar taps his can onto the floor with force, and a sheet of parchment appears before the 4 members of Gematria. On it is the symbol of a dark orb surrounded by faint circle of light, surrounding it are 5 symbols. A black crystal with white cracks, a mouth and an eye side-by-side, an empty rectangular frame, the symbol of Arius, and 2 concentric circles with gaps at the top, with long line extending from the center downwards. The concentric circles with the line fade from the parchment, leaving the 4 symbols surrounding the black light-ringed orb.
"Consider this my letter of resignation. I'm done with Gematria."
As the Primeval Scholar stands, Black Suit makes one last appeal to his now former partner. "You are making an enemy out of all of us, Primeval Scholar. But I do not deny the might of your [Projects], or the sharpness of your mind. Your input on our research has helped us greatly. It would be far more beneficial for all involved if you remain with Gematria and focus on the cooperation between our research objectives."
"Yes!", Maestro chimes in, "That [Sol Staff] you gave me has worked wonders on the lighting of my masterpieces! The rays of the sun, to shine where I please! What a wondrous work of art! You must stay with us, my fellow artist! Think of the magnum opus we could make!"
"The book you gave me, [Dreams of the Little Prince], was also a magnificent gift", Golconde adds, "To be able to plunge myself into a dream-like story that changes as I act upon it. The work of a master storyteller. You must tell me its author at least, before you go."
"And those gloves, [Manus Tenebre], were beautiful. A shade of black so deep it swallows the light. And to be able to feel shadows with my hands! A true marvel! The fruits of your research made manifest; I am honored that you consider me worthy of such a gift." Black Suit bows slightly as a show of appreciation.
"You three received relics?! All I got from him was a tea set!" Beatrice was incensed that the Scholar shared his [Projects] with these bumbling oafs, but not her.
"The [Windmill Lotus] is no mere tea set, Lady Beatrice. Have you not noticed how perfectly steeped your teas have been? How your cup retains the perfect temperature, no matter how long you wait?"
The many eyes of the Red Mother of Arius widen in realization. She does remember how her tea has been of higher quality recently. She thought it was because her servants in Arius had finally managed to be competent in serving tea. To think it was the delicate tea set given to her by this mysterious and strange newcomer of Gematria.
A short but heavy sigh escaped from the lips of the Primeval Scholar. He prepares to leave this little club of self-entitled idiots. However, something stops him and causes him to look at these 4 lunatics. Yes, they remain lunatics, but the Scholar cannot in good faith deny the (very) small sense of gratitude he has for Gematria for the 6 months he had stayed with them.
The Scholar straightens himself, and addresses his now former colleagues, "I can confidently say that I have NOT enjoyed the last few months with you."
He cuts off any reply, mainly Beatrice's "However, I cannot deny that I remain grateful for the assistance Gematria has provided to me, a newly arrived outsider."
"Golconde, Decalcomania, the ancient relics you have allowed me to analyze have been most illuminating. Your theories on narrative realities and the relationships of destiny and tropes were also a pleasure to discuss. For that you have my thanks."
"Think nothing of it, Scholar. Your observations of [Narrative-bound Realities] are also appreciated. After all, is not the fate of the side characters to help one another?" "But of course!"
"Maestro, I may not approve of your specific methods in art, but I cannot deny the skill and passion of your artistry. Your drafts for Gregorious were wondrous. I look forward to the completion of that masterpiece"
"Haha, I am pleased someone appreciates the creativity of my works. Do not worry Scholar, I will make sure to save you front row seats."
"Black Suit, out of all of you, I respected you the most. That respect is now mostly gone, thanks to your excessively destructive methods. But you remain a seeker of Truth in my eyes. And I will not forget the assistance you have given me when I first joined Gematria. For that, I am truly grateful."
"Hmm, then perhaps I can ask you to remain as compensation for that gratitude? No, you are not that kind of person, Scholar. Well, I suppose this is where we must part ways. Your assistance and input has been most valuable. Do know you are welcome to return, under conditions of course."
"And you, Beatrice. Out of you 4, I dislike you the most. It is a true shame, as even I cannot deny your grace, elegance and even beauty. If only your soul shared even a hundredth of your outer grace. Nevertheless, I do remain grateful for the hospitality you have given me during my visit to one of Arius' external bases, and the material aid you gave me in my first month. For that, you have my thanks."
Beatrice's eyes slightly narrow, and with pursed lips say, "Do not think I can be easily swayed by such praises, I am not one of these naïve girls. But at least you are not as naïve as them. Just don't get in my way"
With the pleasantries out the way, the Primeval Scholar begins to bow.
Left hand to the small of his back, right hand holding the cane sweeping outward. Right foot pointing back. Lowering his head and bending at the waist at a perfect 45-degree angle. The traditional bow of an Ousian noble to the host of the event he has participated in.
"I bid you farewell, Gematria. May our future meetings be more pleasant than this."
TAP, echoes the cane tip upon the floor. The robes of the Scholar begin to swirl around him, wrapping him and covering him. The cloth contracts smaller and smaller, until the Scholar disappears entirely.
The Primeval Scholar has left Gematria, and once more the members number only 4.
"What a dramatic exit! Bravo!"
"Hm, one less insolent naïve mouth to listen to."
"And so, the antagonist abandons the struggle against the protagonist. Where will he go now? The path of the story may bend to this side character yet." "But of course!"
Black Suit remains silent, contemplating the consequences of the Primeval Scholar leaving Gematria. The Scholar would have been a truly valuable ally, and his exit will likely prove detrimental to his plans in the future.
He glances back to the parchment left on the table, and notices something.
"The Dweller is not represented here."
The rest of Gematria looks the Scholars "resignation letter".
"It's not particularly surprising." remarks Golconde, "The basement is hidden as well as we could manage. And none of us have even hinted of his existence."
"Wait" Maestro points to a spot on the parchment "Look here"
"Have you gone blind, Maestro?" Beatrice notes. "There's nothing there."
Black Suit looks to where Maestro is pointing, then realization shapes his face into surprised amusement
"Negative space"
"Precisely, Black Suit.", notes Maestro "Notice how all the symbols are arranged each at 60 degree intervals. 6 points, but only 5 symbols. This sixth point beside his symbol, is empty."
Shock courses through Golconde's mind. "He knew of the Underground Dweller? How?"
"No, I do not think the Scholar knew of the Dweller specifically.", Black Suit muses while looking at the parchment. "Otherwise, he would have added the Dweller's mask or another similar symbol. I believe he suspected there was another member. And this is his way of showing us he knew a secret of ours."
"Are you sure this isn't just a mistake on that Scholar's part?", interjects Beatrice. "Perhaps there's no meaning to this."
"NO", Maestro proclaims "This is intentional. A fellow artisan like the Scholar knows of the meaning of negative spaces in artwork. I know that much about him." The doll's hand clenches, and his two heads began shaking, if only slightly. "Ah, to leave such poignant detail on his last artwork to us, with such heavy meaning! A warning and threat, presented with purely empty space! He truly is a fellow patron in the arts! I truly must reserve a seat for him once Gregorius is finished!"
Hands steepled before him, Black Suit wonders what the Scholar plans to do next. Noting the Scholar's expressed distaste for Gematria's methods, Black Suit has an inkling on where the Scholar shall appear next.
He moves to call the Kaiser PMC Director, his business "partner" for the ploy of crushing Abydos to acquire the Mystic of Horus. But he pauses. The agreement with the Sensei of Schale still stands. And so he decides will not interfere, even if another wishes to. He will see where this goes. Even if the loss of Horus is costly, the possibility of his newest research subject being joined by an equally interesting subject is far too tantalizing to prevent.
Black Suit takes out his tablet, and opens a video feed to one of the many cameras within Kaiser's Abydos base. A smile forms from the cracks of his face. It is time to see if his theory about the Primeval Scholar's nature is true.
The Primeval Scholar appears near a small oasis deep in the Abydos Desert, next to a small glowing spire of rock. A [Varl Stone], a means of anchoring spatial spells to predetermined locations. Essentially, a teleportation relay. Due to the unknown suppression, the Scholar's capabilities have been reduced enough that his usual methods of teleportation are now impossible. He will have to rely on the various [Varl Stones] he built all over Kivotos in the nearly one year he has been here if he wishes to continue using his weaker teleportation spell.
The sounds of gunshots, explosions and furious battles carry over the dry desert air. The Scholar activates his [Gale Wing] boots, and swirling air forms around the soles of feet. It carries him high into the air, giving the Scholar a birds-eye view of the battle the Sensei of Schale is bringing to Kaiser.
He watches from above. The struggle of the students of Abydos, the roar of Trinity's artillery barrage, the shouts of Problem Solver 68, the methodical advance of the Prefect Team.
The slowly growing desperation of Kaiser's forces as they realize they are being beaten back by a bunch of kids.
And all of it under the directions of the Sensei of Schale. He could see the fear in her eyes. A single shot from one of those robots, or from the many contract-slaved students of Kaiser, could end her then and there. But onwards she moves, and her confidence bolsters the united front of Mystic students that follow and trust her every word.
As the Primeval Scholar stares at the battle below him, led by the fearful, but steadfast mortal woman, a single thought enters his mind.
A singularly stupid idea, really. An idea that would pit him not only against Gematria, but with every other group that will inevitably try to take a piece of the rich pie that is Kivotos.
A very bad idea, logically and practically speaking. But it's a fun idea, that rings true to his principles.
And what's the point of logic and impartiality, if he must sacrifice his principles for them?
"To Tartarus with Gematria. I'm going to go help Sensei instead."