Three days later, the house was ready.
Jack and Reina moved in without fanfare. The Lonestone Capital City residency became their new anchor. A tangible base in the kingdom.
It was a medium sized property. Located at the edge of Garden District. Conveniently close to the port. But far enough to avoid the worst of its grime. An old, forgotten orchard surrounded it. A tangle of neglect Jack intended to rectify.
Their new life settled into a routine rhythm. Their mornings began before dawn. Jack and Reina would rise early. When the air was still cool and crisp. And head to the cleared space in the orchard.
There, they honed their skills. Reina practiced her agility and Mystic Arts. Her movements were fluid and graceful. Like a dance with mystical special effects.
Jack also trained his physical movements, accuracy, and Mystic Arts. In human form. It was not as effective compared to exercising them in his specific forms. Specter for Mystic Arts, for example. Or rakshasa for physical combat stances.
But, he could not openly used that here. In the middle of the city with a large number of transcendent people with various abilities.
After training, they would tackle the house. Jack was surprisingly meticulous about domesticity. They pruned the gnarled fruit trees. Cleared the overgrown paths. And even cultivated a small vegetable patch.
Their neighbors were mostly quiet artisans. They would offer polite nods and brief exchanges over the low stone wall.
Jack maintained a genial, if somewhat reserved, demeanor. He was Mr. Jack Night. The diligent, recently married homeowner.
Reina showed a radiant yet calm persona. Playing the role of the loving wife. Her smile seemed very genuine though.
Jack had accumulated significant wealth. He still had the gemstones he had extracted from Sapphire City Mines.
And, he also played his current identity well. As a genius engineer. He patented and sold some blueprints of convenient yet mundane household gadgets and toys. To large companies in Lonestone. Acquiring quite significant royalty.
The wealth actually also served a broader purpose for them. Jack tasked Reina with joining local charity organizations. Lonestone, despite its prosperity, had its share of destitution. He also insisted she volunteer at the nearby public hospital. Assisting nurses and comforting the sick.
"Love!" Jack had explained seriously. "You need to do these things. Your past actions generated a significant amount of negative karma. It might not mean much now. But, it will significantly affect you when you reach higher stages of transcendence."
"Really?"
"Do you notice that most 'evil' transcendent beings were mostly either crazy or extremely cold in behavior? Especially those with higher stages?" Jack explained. "They were mostly not the original them anymore."
Reina, her eyes wide with understanding, had immediately agreed. The concept of karma, especially its tangible impact on her power, was a revelation.
She threw herself into her charitable work. With the same intensity she had once applied to working in evil organization. She might not become a good person yet. However, she could pretend to be good. But it was fine. Sincerity didn't matter for karma anyway.
Jack also busied himself with working on his engineering design during the day. And his secret self-appointed tasks at night.
Most nights, after Reina had fallen into a deep sleep, Jack would slip out. He would transform into Jack Mystery. A mysterious specter of judgement.
He drifted through the city's industrial districts, the classic Renaissance quarters, and the grim slums. He was a silent judge. An unseen arbiter.
The guilty... Those who preyed on the weak, who reveled in cruelty, or who corrupted the innocent... They found themselves tormented with vivid, realistic nightmares. Or a series of inexplicable misfortunes. Each meticulously orchestrated by the unseen specter.
But Jack Mystery was not just judging the guilty. He was also judging the worthy. The truly innocent, those burdened by unjust suffering, the victims of the city's predatory elements... They found unexpected peace.
Jack would weave sweet dreams into their sleep. Sometimes, they would wake with a sudden clarity, a burst of energy, or an inexplicable solution to their woes. Jack carved his own version of justice across Lonestone. Stealthily.
Days kept rolling...
Then, one quiet Lonestone evening, the time had come. Jack was sitting in his study. Not overlooking the budding orchard as usual this time. He looked at the crystal coin on the desk, showing the number one on its face.
He smiled and closed the windows. Turning the room dark. He activated his [Incarnation Shift] and transformed into his specter form. And waited.
Not long afterward, the crystal coin glowed briefly before the last digit vanished. Zero.
A mental invitation appeared in Jack's mind. Asking whether he would join the gathering or not. Without any hesitation, he accepted the invitation.
His surroundings blurred. The scent of polished wood and old paper faded. Replaced by the faint aroma of fresh flowers. And an indefinable scent of cool, clear air after a spring shower. Jack's mind materialized.
He was in Rainsister's cozy living room. Exactly as he remembered it. Soft lamplight bathed the space. Illuminating shelves packed with books.
The beautiful deity, Rainsister, was there. Reclined gracefully on a plush, comfortable couch. A steaming mug was cradled between her delicate hands. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders. Catching the light from a nearby ornate lamp.
Before Jack could offer a greeting, the air shivered again. Another consciousness solidified in the room. Amaranth White, dressed in simple, practical garments. Her usually serious face was etched with a mix of surprise and confusion. She looked around. Her eyes were wide with astonishment.
Rainsister set her mug down with a soft click. Her gaze, warm yet piercing, settled on Amaranth first. "Welcome, Mist of Compassion."
Then, her eyes shifted to Jack. "And you too, Spirit of Conviction."
Jack nodded a curt acknowledgment. "Rainsister." He offered a simple, respectful greeting. Even in this mental space, her presence commanded a certain deference.
Amaranth, however, was clearly reeling. Her gaze snapped to Rainsister. "Rainsister... You are... the Goddess of Knowledge?" Her voice was a hushed whisper. Laced with disbelief.
Rainsister offered a gentle smile. A hint of amusement was in her eyes. "That was not wrong. But not exactly right either. I do possess immortality, yes. And my abilities to reach for patterns and information, are indeed vast. Equal or even greater than that of gods and goddesses. Ah... and people did once call me that."
She paused, taking a sip of her drink. "But no, Mist of Compassion, I am not a goddess. At least not in the sense you understand it. I can't use or receive faith. I am Fateless, just like you."
"Fateless?" Amaranth repeated. Still processing the information. "But... if you're not a goddess, if you can't use or receive faith, how do you possess such power?"
"Because being Fateless means precisely that," Rainsister explained. Her voice was calm and clear. "We are immune to the world's fate. Our paths are not predetermined by destiny. But this immunity comes with a flaw. We cannot draw power from faith. We are outside that system. We cannot tap into it. Our power is inherent, our own."
Amaranth frowned. Clearly struggling with the abstract concept. "What exactly is fate, then?"
"Fate..." Rainsister explained. "... is not a predestined outcome. It is, rather, an absolute point of events that will happen. It is not the result that is unchangeable. But the specific, unavoidable event that leads to a result."
She paused. Allowing the concept to settle. "Consider one fated to be a hero. His fate is not to win or lose a specific battle. But rather, to face the villain at a particular time and place."
"He cannot escape that confrontation." She continued. "He might run, hide, or try to avoid it. But circumstances will conspire to bring him to that fated encounter. Whether he wins, loses, or flees. That is his choice, his skill, his luck. No longer his fate."
She explained further. "Or a more mundane example. A normal man, living his life. His fate might show that he will face an event that could cause his death. A natural disaster. If it is his fate, no matter what precautions he takes, he will find himself at that absolute point in time and location."
She smiled as she continued. "He cannot escape the event itself. But whether he dies, is injured, or miraculously survives untouched... that, again, depends on his actions, his resilience, his choices during that unavoidable event."
"This absolute point in the future..." Rainsister continued,. "... this fixed nexus of events, is what true divination and prophecy can access. They see the unchangeable points. Not the variable outcomes."
"And Fateless?" Amaranth asked.
"We, as Fateless individuals..." Rainsister said. "... either possess no such absolute points within our existence. Or they are so deeply hidden. So intrinsically intertwined with our nature that this world's limited divination cannot perceive them."
Jack had a surge of questions. But one stood out among the rest. "And Fate Code? The thing that's supposed to allow a transcendent to reach the Illumination Stage? Is that also tied to fate?"
Rainsister shook her head. "No. It is a misnamed concept born of misunderstanding and fragmented knowledge."
She explained. "To break through the world's secondary limitations. And enter the Illumination Stage... Well, to do that, one must break the 'Reality Bubble'."
She gestured with an elegant hand. And the air around each of them seemed to shimmer. Forming a translucent, layered spheres.
"Imagine that humanity does not interact with the world directly." She said. "There are subtle, unseen 'bubbles' around each sentient being. Filtering the 'radiation' of the true world. Limiting their individual perception of reality."
She made a gesture, and the innermost sphere around them burst and disappear. "When a person becomes a transcendent, they break through the innermost of these bubbles. The 'Self Awakening' bubble. The one that limits the raw potential of their own being. They begin to perceive the world with greater clarity. Or to manipulate essence directly."
The second sphere around them pulsed. Cracked. And broke into pieces. "To be 'illuminated'... To reach that next stage, one needs to break through the next bubble. The 'World Illuminating' bubble."
"This one bubble..." Rainsister explained. "...is the subtle, unseen filter that dictates how you perceive and interact with the broader reality. The very fabric of existence beyond your individual self."
Jack listened carefully. The explanation didn't exist in the Encyclopedia of Mystic Arts he learned.
"About Fate Code." Rainsister continued. "There are indeed specific objects, esoteric rituals, and rigorous practices that can aid in breaking the second bubble. These are the things people have mistakenly labeled as 'Fate Code'. No connection at all with fate."
Jack contemplated. It fit. The vague descriptions he had read of 'Fate Code' now made sense through a more logical, almost mechanical lens. It wasn't about manipulating destiny. But shattering restrictive barriers.
"Can you teach me?" Jack asked. "Can you teach me a ritual or practice that is... moral enough to do that? Something that doesn't involve sacrificing virgins or devouring souls?"
A faint smile touched Rainsister's lips. Her eyes sparkled with a knowing amusement. She simply made a graceful gesture with her hand. A soft, almost imperceptible wave.
A thick, leather-bound tome appeared in the space before Jack. Floating serenely. It was radiating an aura of profound ancient knowledge.
"You may learn from this." Rainsister's voice was gentle but firm. "But only while you are here. Its contents are pure. Untainted by the desperate shortcuts and corruptions that have plagued many paths to Illumination."