In the book-lined room, the oil lamp on the long wooden table flickered with a dim yellow light. Four people—Plain, Sassel, Jeanne, and Astolfo—were engaged in conversation. The main dialogue was between Plain and Sassel. Plain, some sort of black sorcerer—though clearly not from the demonology school—generously handed over the book De Vermiis Mysteriis to Sassel, then sat on a bench to continue their discussion.
Sassel, still in his demonized form, sat across from the host of the room. He took the book but didn't rush to read it; instead, he focused on questioning Plain about the city. Jeanne sat to Sassel's right, her golden eyes studying the man opposite her with a furrowed brow—Sassel had just informed her through a soul tendril that Plain was also a black sorcerer, leaving her visibly displeased.
As for Astolfo, he sat to Sassel's left, fiddling with a mechanical doll, occasionally lifting his head to catch bits of their conversation. Plain explained that the doll was something left behind by other residents of the city, representing memories lost during their assimilation with the city.
"This isn't someone's dream world," Plain said, pouring a few glasses of water for them. "This world is layered. Zobeid is just one layer among many. Honestly, I don't know what lies above it, but this city has existed for a very long time. If my guess is correct, it appeared around the same time as that strange doll."
"And where do you think that doll came from?"
"I believe she comes from another world," Plain said. "During the First Empire's collapse—triggered by the emperor's magical experiments—do you remember that history?"
"Of course I remember. But haven't you forgotten everything about the past?" Sassel eyed him suspiciously.
"I have forgotten, yes. But the books I've collected recorded fragments of the past," Plain explained with a faint look of sorrow. "Let me explain briefly, sir. After the foreign gods and their servants—like the ancient grey elves and dark elves—invaded our world, some weaker beings and races were completely wiped out by the war; some escaped the physical world and created their own labyrinths—just as the dragons first created the First Labyrinth; and some great beings, though not dragged into our world, extended their curiosity toward us—like the Faceless God. You should understand this.
"As for the Moon Goddess—or rather, the controller of this labyrinth—I've found no records of it participating in the wars following the First Empire's fall. Why? I believe, like this labyrinth itself, it was created by Nyarlathotep. The Moon Goddess is merely an administrator."
"You're certain this labyrinth was created by the Crawling Chaos?" Sassel was taken aback. He quickly sent the next part directly via soul tendril—so Astolfo wouldn't hear: "Our school's records about It are extremely scarce."
"I once created a doll that resembled the one from my dreams," Plain said bitterly. "And she was possessed—directly by the Crawling Chaos itself. It seemed to like that body and decided to use her as a new incarnation. What stood before me transformed from a beautiful doll into a nightmare—each word it spoke chilled me to my core.
"As compensation, it gave me some information: that this place is a labyrinth modeled after a so-called Dream Mirror; that it could help me recover my memories, but at the cost of destroying everything else I once possessed; and that I could not leave unless I willingly abandoned my sanity and became a Moon Beast—a species of sadistic monsters."
Though his tone remained calm, a faint tremor betrayed his lingering fear.
"You can't imagine how bizarre it was," Plain continued. "Using that fragile doll's body, it spoke in a soft, intoxicating woman's voice—but every word, every sentence, its very language and existence, revealed to me a nightmarish abyss. I felt as if every inch of my body was rotting and molding, as if maggots filled even my fingers. After it finally left, I had nightmares for over a month."
He placed heavy emphasis on rotting and maggots.
Apparently, even the so-called 'most rational' of the outer gods were almost impossible to interact with...
Sassel fell silent for a moment.
"And the doll?"
"After that, I never tried making dolls again," Plain said. "As for the dream doll, I spoke with her a few times in that graveyard. She said she missed a place called Yharnam. She told me her creator was an old man named Gehrman, her original model was a woman called Maria, and that she now serves the Moon Goddess."
"By the truth above, don't start talking to me about Yharnam or Maria," Sassel muttered. "I don't want to fall into another dream city." He added aloud, "Are the people in this city all like you?"
"Not at all," Plain said softly. "My sanity is thanks to my wife. Most of the other fallen souls here are much closer to madness."
"Wife...? Are you joking with me?" Sassel raised his glass and drank, neither agreeing nor denying. "How could mortal emotions possibly withstand the pollution of the Outer Gods?"
"I agree..." Plain said quietly. "But she is not entirely..."
He paused and simply shook the wind chime hanging from the side of the table.
After a moment, someone descended from the second floor and approached Plain.
It was a delicate, pale girl, docile as a lily.
She had beautiful green eyes, an innocent expression, and smooth, waist-length hair the color of early spring grass, lightly scented and casually draped over her bare shoulders. She wore only a thin white dress, her small feet bare against the floor.
She curiously glanced at the three guests but said nothing, merely sitting quietly next to Plain.
She looked no older than thirteen or fourteen, yet her face bore none of a child's naivety.
Sassel almost spat out his water.
Jeanne reacted without much expression, but Astolfo's gaze drifted from his mechanical doll to the peculiar pair before him, his eyes sparkling once again.
But Sassel was different. To a black sorcerer's perception—that thing was definitely not some harmless little girl.
He connected a soul tendril to Plain. "By the truth above—this is a Black Goat's offspring? You're telling me your wife is a Black Goat's spawn?"
"Yes, yes, you're right," Plain sighed. "I truly don't know what happened in my past, but after I was assimilated into Zobeid by the Moon Goddess' summons—after I almost became a frenzied Moon Beast—it was Saya who brought my books and found me here, helping me recover a shred of sanity."
Plain reached out and patted Saya's head. She narrowed her eyes in enjoyment—but not with the typical innocence of a child.
"Sounds... wonderful," Sassel swallowed his water, neither affirming nor denying. Then, through a soul tendril, he added, though the tone was not exactly harmonious: "I once named my Deep One pet 'Rick,' but I doubt it would come looking for me now—probably lost whatever intelligence it had, down to a wild boar's level."