The wind howled through the valley, carrying the scent of iron and ancient soil.
Five figures materialized from the shadows, their cloaks fluttering like the wings of ravens. They wore armor forged from darkness itself, absorbing the ambient light of the Third Epoch's sun.
These were the "Shadowcloaks," an elite squad of Official Beyonders serving directly under the King of Angels, Sasrir.
"Traces?" the leader hissed, his voice a rasp of grinding stone.
A scout knelt, pressing a gloved hand against the red earth. Shadows coiled around his fingers, tasting the history of the soil.
"Gone," the scout reported, his face grim. "Spiritual residue confirms three targets. High-sequence. But the trail ends here. They used a method of travel that bypassed the physical realm entirely. Likely Teleportation or... Spirit World traversal of Door."
The leader straightened, looking down at the valley below.
It was a settlement.
Gothic spires rose from the earth, built from dark, blood-colored stone that seemed to weep in the morning light.
The architecture was sharp, intimidating, and undeniably Sanguine.
Yet, the atmosphere was jarringly peaceful.
In the fields surrounding the dark citadel, pale-skinned vampires with crimson eyes were... farming.
They tilled the soil with magically reinforced tools, tending to fields of Moon Flowers and Blood Wheat.
Children with small pale hands played tag around a scarecrow that looked suspiciously like a werewolf.
"Sanguines," the leader spat with disdain, "Blood Moon Town."
"Do we pursue into the town?" the scout asked.
"No," the leader turned away. "Lord Sasrir received a revelation and ordered us to patrol the perimeter, not to start a confrontation with Lilith's children. If the intruders are hiding there, the smell of blood will drive them out eventually. We move to the next sector."
The Shadowcloaks dissolved into shadows, leaving the peaceful, gothic farming village undisturbed.
In a secluded corner of the Sanguine town, a two-story house sat in silence.
It had been abandoned for decades, haunted by a powerful Evil Spirit that had driven away even the Sanguine locals.
"Well," Kim Dokja said, dusting off his hands as he looked at the pile of dissipating shadow in the hallway. "That takes care of the landlord."
"It was a Powerful Wraith," Klein Moretti noted, adjusting his Lv.8 crimson regalia. "Mid-sequence."
The house was clean now.
The Secretive Plotter had simply exerted his 'Status', and the remaining malicious spirits had fled in terror, preferring the sunlight outside to the void inside his coat.
They gathered in the living room.
The furniture was old but functional, draped in dust sheets.
"We are safe for the moment," Klein said, divining the danger, "The official forces have moved on."
"Good," Dokja said. He sat on a dusty sofa and pulled a small glass vial from his coat pocket.
Inside swirled a silvery, chaotic liquid that seemed to steal the light around it.
[Sequence 9: Marauder Potion]
He had retrieved the characteristics from the gift box Hajin left him.
It was time.
"Are you sure?" Klein asked. "The Error pathway... Amon is.... Law of Beyonder Characteristics Convergence is a cruel thing ."
"Who is that Amon you are always talking about? Is he really that scheming? Besides, I have the 'Fourth Wall'," Dokja replied with a faint smile.
He uncorked the vial and drank it in one gulp.
It didn't taste like a potion. It tasted like cheating.
A sensation of cold electricity shot through his veins. It wasn't the burning digestions of the 'Demon King' or the 'Angel'. It was a rewiring of his logic.
His mind expanded. He didn't just see the room; he saw the flaws in it. The crack in the window seal. The loose floorboard. The gap in the logic of reality where a rule could be bent.
He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to take. To find a loophole in the system and exploit it.
[The 'Fourth Wall' giggles.]
[Story 'The Last Witness of the Unwritten End' finds this development amusing.]
"So this is a Beyonder Potion," Dokja whispered, flexing his fingers. He looked at Klein. For a split second, he wondered if he could steal the top hat off Klein's head without him noticing.
'I hope Hajin didn't just give birth to the second Amon. Dokja's changes of character are very sudden after he received that new function of his advance chip at 7F.' Klein fixed his Bansy hat, sensing the gaze of Dokja.
He suppressed the urge. "I'm fine."
"It fits you too well," the Plotter muttered from the corner, eyes closed. "Get some rest. We move again tomorrow."
While his companions slept, Klein Moretti did not.
He sat at the head of the long bronze table in the majestic, silent palace above the gray fog. The endless mist churned below, isolating him from the world, from time, from history.
"We need information," Klein whispered to the empty hall.
The Third Epoch was a land of gods.
To survive, to save the Ancient Sun God they needed an organization.
He tapped the edge of the table.
The gray fog surged.
He focused on the crimson stars floating in the dome of the palace.
There were hundreds of them, souls connected to the Sefirah Castle across time and space.
"Let us begin."
He focused on a star that pulsed with a steady, unyielding light.
It felt heavy, like stone.
Klein extended his spirituality to the star of a man. He held a crystal ball in his hands
A figure materialized in one of the chairs.
It was a man.
He wore animal hides and simple, rugged armor.
He had the brownish-yellow hair, his face was weathered, scarred by wind and battle.
Man's face reminded Klein of Little Sun.
The man didn't panic.
He gripped the crystal ball, his muscles tensing, ready to fight.
"Who goes there?" the man demanded, his voice rough.
Klein tapped the table. The symbol of The Fool appeared behind him, obscured by fog. "Welcome. You may call me the Fool."
The man narrowed his eyes. He looked at the symbol. He looked at the fog.
Klein proceeded with the formalities.
"An exchange," Klein corrected. "Value for value."
The man hesitated.
He was a Warrior.
A Twilight Giant Pathway.
His instincts screamed danger. But he was summoned here.
"I am... Kurt Berg."
Klein nodded. So it is Sun's ancestor.
"I'm the convener of the gathering. Keep your identity a secret. Please, draw a card."
The man drew.
[The Sun].
Klein nearly choked. Fate is truly a circle.
"The meetings are convened every Monday at 3 PM."
The New Sun bowed, his seat empty.
Klein turned his gaze to another star.
This one felt... wrong.
It was cold, slimy, and radiated a profound malice.
A crystal ring was the medium.
Summon.
The fog churned violently.
A figure appeared, not sitting, but standing on the chair.
It was a monster. Klein couldn't know his name, but it was Naboredisley.
It had golden skin that looked like rot, limbs that were too long and possessed too many joints. Its face was a landscape of horror, dominated by a single, vertical icy-blue eye.
"WHERE IS HE?!" The creature roared, its voice a psychic shockwave. "WHO ARE YOU?!"
It didn't wait for an answer. The icy-blue eye widened.
It reflected Klein's silhouette.
It tried to turn The Fool into a goat, a stone, a puddle of slime.
BOOM!
The Sefirah Castle shook.
The gray fog blocked the curse, but the pillars of the palace began to hiss and corrode.
Klein's eyes turned cold. He reached into the air.
[Historical Void]
He tried to pull the Sea God Scepter.
He grasped for the history of the Fifth Epoch.
He grasped for the weapon he had wielded so many times.
Empty.
His hand grabbed nothing but mist.
'The history...' Klein realized with horror. 'It doesn't exist yet. The Sea God Scepter hasn't been created!'
Naboredisley lunged, his mouth opening to reveal rows of spinning teeth.
[Spirit Inhaling].
A massive suction force pulled at Klein's Spirit Body, trying to drag him out of his seat and into the Devil's maw.
Klein reached for Nabordisley's body threads, his movements and thoughts sluggish for a second.
[System Alert!]
[Skill 'Historical Cognizance (Low-Rank)' is evolving!]
[User intends to access 'Personal History' instead of 'World History'!]
[Skill Evolved: Historical Cognizance (Mid-Rank) -> Historical imposition]
===
[Historical Imposition]
— Forces a connection to a specific history recorded inside the user's history, overriding the temporal paradox of the current reality.
===
"Come!" Klein roared. He didn't reach into the world's past. He reached into his own memory.
He remembered the weight of the blue scepter. He remembered the gems. He remembered the storm.
"You asked who I am," Klein's voice filled the palace, gray fog fully covering his body
CRACK-ZIZZZT!
The Sea God Scepter materialized in his hand, woven from the gray fog and his own memory, reinforced by the System's power. It crackled with blue lightning, more volatile than the real thing.
[I am The Fool.]
Cold voice resonated from inside the endless fog.
Klein slammed the scepter onto the bronze table.
[Your 'Giant Story' begins to sprout!]
LIGHTNING.
A storm of indigo lightning, amplified by the Sefirah Castle, exploded within the palace. It bombarded the golden-skinned abomination.
"GRAAAH!" Naboredisley shrieked as the lightning tore through his cursed flesh.
"Remember this name." Klein commanded.
He severed the connection.
The Abomination was ripped from the chair and thrown back into the void.
But something remained. A glob of red flesh, pulsing with thorns.
A high-level Beyonder characteristic left behind in the struggle.
Probably Sequence 3 or 2.
Klein panted, swiping the characteristic into an isolated box made with Sefirah's spirituality. He'll inspect it later.
"That... was close."
He needed someone stable.
He focused on a star that felt cold, quiet, and dignified.
A man appeared.
He had bronze skin and soft features, but his eyes were sharp, devoid of the weary softness.
He looked around calmly.
He sensed the aura of the Sefirah—something higher than death, something primal.
"A domain of the spirit?" the man asked politely.
"I am The Fool," Klein said, recovering his breath.
The man bowed slightly. "I am Lorem Eggers."
'Eggers? Is this a relative of Mr. Azik?'
He drew a card.
[Death].
Klein suppressed a sigh.
Of course.
One last try.
A star that flickered with a strange, distorted light called to him.
Klein observed it for a second.
A boy appeared.
He looked no older than sixteen.
He had messy hair, half black, half white.
He looked innocent.
But the moment he appeared, the Sefirah Castle screamed.
The entire palace trembled, not in fear, but in resonance.
The fog rushed toward the boy like a puppy greeting its master.
The boy looked at Klein.
He smiled.
It was a smile that contained zero humanity. The boy wasn't surprised at all
"Did Father send you?" the boy asked.
Klein froze.
'Is his last name... Antigonus, by any chance?'
The boy tilted his head.
The boy raised a hand. The fog around him twisted.
[Grafting].
He was trying to graft something.
Klein panicked internally.
Slash.
Klein severed the connection instantly. The boy vanished before he could do… whatever he tried to.
Klein wiped sweat from his forehead.
He spent the next hour carefully selecting stars that felt stable.
Each new member listened through the rehearsed script of a swindler. No one doubted the power of a Deity who could summon Spirit Body directly into the Divine Kingdom even without praying to the existence.
'Indeed, I'm a fraud.'
He summoned an Elf with storm-blue eyes [The Hanged Man].
He summoned a half-crazy nobleman from a human settlement that utilized the Black Emperor pathway[The Emperor].
He summoned a barbarian from the Feysac region[The Chariot].
…
'That should be enough.'
Finally, thirteen seats were filled.
Tarot Club 2.0 was established.
Klein descended from the gray fog.
He opened his eyes in the dusty bedroom of the safehouse.
Through the window, the sun of the Third Epoch was beginning to rise, casting long, blood-red shadows across the room.
He hadn't slept in five days.
His head throbbed.
The spiritual exhaustion from using the evolved [Historical Imposition] and battling a Devil avatar weighed on his soul.
He looked at his hands.
"Sasrir... The Berg Ancestor... Eggers... Antigonus..."
It wasn't just a random assortment of people.
It was a web.
He was walking directly into the center of a history he had only read about in legends. Everything was connected. And everyone was terrifyingly powerful.
A shiver of genuine horror ran down his spine.
"What a coincidence…"
Klein looked around before going above the gray fog once more. He materialized a parchment and tried to do a divination.
The only thing that met him was total darkness.
'Failed.'
Klein sighed and returned to the real world.
He closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep.
He needed to be rested.