Lumian suddenly felt his body freeze as the corpse twitched violently. He forced himself to look, not daring to make a sound. After a moment, he activated his Mystic Eyes. The room was suffused with a dark, oppressive energy.
The corpse's mouth quivered, forming words that sent a chill down his spine.
"Help… help… help… Hakli… the world… the dream… will be real… help…"
Then, the pale body of Lacey's eyes snapped open—pitch black and endless. Black particles drifted from him, like a ghost being exorcised from its host. Slowly, he sat upright on the table.
Lumian moved back slowly, covering his mouth. As a phase nine with little combat skills, what could he do in a situation like this?
The black energy swirled around the room, curling like living smoke, brushing against his skin. His heart pounded. And then, with a final shudder, the pale corpse lied down back onto the table. Its eyes closed.
Silence filled the room, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
...
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Lumian was already drenched in sweat. He stared at the corpse and sank to his knees, whispering a desperate apology to Lacey for taking his life. I didn't want this… I had no choice!
He slowly stood, exhaling shakily. "Fffff…" Yet his heart continued to hammer against his ribs, refusing to calm. He pinched himself, pacing the room in a futile attempt to regain composure.
Gradually, his heartbeat steadied, though a flood of thoughts swirled in his mind. Yes… that's it. That's the only answer. Lacey's ghost… he's looking for me. Lacey… I'm so sorry!
Tears threatened to spill as his expression twisted with guilt. He lifted a hand to the sky, then placed it over his chest, murmuring a prayer to Skywalker.
After a few moments, his mind returned to the corpse's words. "…Hakli…?" Lumian's eyes widened. Could this… be connected to the Book of Revelation?
...
"…Hakli… what a strange name." Lumian muttered, glancing at the corpse once more.
Lacey did read the Book of Revelation… and Derrick said anyone who reads it risks going mad. Could this be one of its effects?
He paused, then let out a breath, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"…Phew. That didn't feel like a ghost seeking revenge," he murmured with a faint, uneasy smile. "But those black particles…"
His expression slowly turned thoughtful as he rubbed his chin.
They looked like something leaving his body… like a vengeful spirit being expelled. No… not a spirit.
That must have been the 'intelligence' that allowed Lacey to read the text, because there's no way he could have understood it!
He nodded to himself, thoughts beginning to connect.
And the leader… Mrs. Selene—no… Lady Aethera.
I think I understand now. Lady Aethera must have given Lacey a fragment of memory so he could read the text. The book itself should be unreadable…
But then, he paused again. A new doubt surfaced.
…No. That doesn't make complete sense either. How would Aethera be able to read it in the first place?
His brows furrowed.
…Wait. Aethera… and the Pale Moon Goddess, were at constant war over it.
Could it be… they already understood it back then…?
...
After some time, the door swung open, revealing Vincent with his black hair, and green eyes.
His gaze landed on Lumian, who stood in a white linen shirt and black trousers, one hand on his chin, lost in thought.
"Hey, Sherlock. Let's get to packing this thing up, we don't have all day." Vincent said with a chuckle.
Lumian snapped out of it and looked over, lowering his hand with a small laugh. "I thought Paul would be the one helping me carry it."
Vincent sighed. "So did I. But when I was captain, he told me to go and assist you."
He stepped forward and grabbed one end of the body. Lumian took the other without another word.
Together, they carried it out of the room.
Before long, they reached the waiting area and gently set the body down in front of Hargreaves.
...
Hargreaves glanced at the body and gave a small nod before speaking. "Leave it here. Lady Patricia will be here shortly."
Vincent let out a short laugh. "Leave it here? Won't that disturb people coming in?"
"It will," Hargreaves replied calmly. "Just place it near the edge of Lury's table. It's simpler this way—you won't have to go back and forth from the autopsy room."
Lumian nodded, considering it for a moment. "Yeah… that does make things easier."
He gave a small chuckle, then hesitated before asking,
"Captain… have you ever heard of the term 'Hakli'?"
...
Hargreaves rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment before replying, "I feel like I've seen that word somewhere…"
He paused, brows knitting slightly as he searched his memory.
"…Yes. It mentioned something about a kingdom… and a prince."
He looked back at Lumian. "Check the library. It should be in one of the books we received last week."
Lumian nodded. "Alright, captain. I'll look into it."
Hargreaves gave a small smile, then asked, "What brought this up?"
Lumian chuckled lightly. "Came across the term on a forum."
"Is that so…" Hargreaves didn't press further. Instead, he gestured to Vincent. "Let's go. We have more important matters to attend to."
The two of them walked off.
Once they were some distance away, Lumian turned and headed down the right corridor, stopping in front of a door. He knocked lightly before pushing it open and stepping inside.
...
The room was dim, with only faint light from the crimson sun filtering through the curtains.
He glanced around, then turned left—and paused.
The librarian, Mrs. Madison, was there this time.
Lumian let out a quiet breath, walked forward, and put on a friendly smile. "Good morning, Lady Madison. I was hoping to find any books that mention the word 'Hakli.'"
The red-haired librarian lowered her book and looked at him with clear surprise.
"…You? Lumian?" she said slowly. "You want to study?"
Lumian rested a hand on the table, his smile twitching slightly.
What exactly do you take me for…? he thought.
Madison chuckled softly and straightened, revealing her orange dress and neatly perched glasses that matched her green eyes.
"Well, if I told you how surprised I am, you wouldn't believe me," she said with a faint smile. "But you'll have to be more specific."
...
Lumian forced a smile. "To be specific… well, the captain mentioned it might be in one of the books we received yesterday."
The red-haired librarian nodded, flipping open her book and scanning through the pages.
After a moment, she spoke. "We received three books. Two are from the Church of Retribution—myths and records. The other one covers theories about the past."
Lumian nodded, but immediately queried. "Why are we even collecting other churches' history?"
Madison lifted both hands slightly in a casual shrug. "No idea. Probably to better understand the past."
Lumian nodded. "Fair enough. So… where are they?"
She leaned slightly and pointed to his right.
"Over there."
"Alright. Thank you," Lumian said as he turned to leave.
"Wait," her voice came from behind.
He stopped and glanced back.
Madison looked at him over her glasses.
"Try not to make noise."
Lumian frowned faintly, then shook his head as he continued toward the shelves.
...
Lumian walked over to the shelf, scanning the books carefully. Using his knowledge that new arrivals were usually placed at the front, he pulled out the three new volumes and carried them to a quiet corner at the back of the room. A soft breeze drifted through the curtains, brushing against his hair as he settled in to read.
He flipped through the pages methodically, but the first two books didn't mention anything about a kingdom or a prince. Finally, the third book—a volume on the Church of Retribution myths—caught his attention.
Eyes narrowing in focus, he began reading quietly. The clock on the wall ticked past three in the afternoon. From time to time, Madison peeked at him from behind her own book, clearly impressed by his dedication. She smiled to herself, debating whether to join him in reading. In the end, she decided to stay in her seat, letting Lumian immerse himself in the text.
...
…It was said that during the Age of Kingdoms—the age before the Steampunk Age—two mighty kingdoms clashed, each ruled by gods.
...The conflict was mainly between the God of Death and Hervyine, the God of Storms.
At first, the battle unfolded slowly, measured and tense. But over time, it escalated, until the two deities faced each other in full confrontation.
...Hervyine, fully aware that he could not match the power of the God of Death, poured part of his essence into forging an ancient relic—a crown meant to turn the tide of battle.
But before he could wield it, something reached his son: the whispers of the Primordial Lord of Chaos. One word echoed through the mind of the young god…
"…Hakli," Lumian whispered.
...
Lumian continued reading.
…in the process, the young god stole the crown and, in his madness, inadvertently destroyed the kingdom. Now the ruins lay in Persyvile, scattered across dust and rubble. The mad prince had vanished without a trace.
Bless the Skywalker for this revelation, Lumian thought, exhaling softly.
Suddenly, he felt two pairs of eyes on him. Looking up, he realized it was Madison. Caught, she quickly hid behind her book, pretending to read. Lumian chuckled and leaned back slightly in his seat.
So if I'm correct, he mused, the term "Hakli" is some kind of temptation… something that drives people to pursue their deepest desires.
Connecting the dots to Lacey, he continued inwardly: The whispers must have pushed him, further and further towards the Witches Garden. Because what I see about Lacey, he perhaps just wanted a genuine relationship.
But if you think of it, the term could also corrupt people by making them lean more into curse logic... so it has two functions, from what I understood from the story and Lacey's case.
He stood up abruptly. I better get going.
Lumian approached the librarian. Madison stayed behind her book, murmuring to herself as she read. Lumian smiled, tapping lightly on the table.
"Madison, I'm done with the book. Can you help me write my name and check it?"
"…"
She didn't respond. Lumian chuckled, shook his head, and turned to leave. As the library door closed behind him, Madison finally lowered her book, shook her head with a small smile, and quickly wrote his name in the record.
...
Hatcliff Street, along the road.
Under the crimson-tinted shade of the cool evening, Mr. Shadow walked steadily forward, his black clergyman suit blending into the dim light. His cane tapped softly against the ground with each step.
Beside him, Lancelot followed closely, dressed in a colored jacket and trousers.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
For a while they was silence, only ten steady taps echoing along the ground.
After a while, Lancelot broke the silence. "Mr. Shadow… I've been meaning to ask. I've never really seen you with anyone. Do you have someone you're close to?"
Mr. Shadow paused slightly beneath his white, featherless mask, then continued walking.
"How weak the mind is… when it wishes to forget."
Lancelot fell quiet at that, unsure how to respond. After a moment, he let out a small chuckle.
"It is, I suppose. I once had a place I belonged… but I was cast out by the God of Beginnings." He tilted his head slightly. "Surely… you have someone too?"
The faint sound of passing cars echoed along the street.
Nearby, a pair of children playing with a ball suddenly stopped and looked up.
"Is that Mr. Shadow? The highest phase known so far?"
They waved excitedly.
"Hello, Mr. Shadow!"
Mr. Shadow gave a small wave in return, a faint smile hidden beneath his mask as he continued forward.
After a moment, he finally spoke.
"…Something like that."
...
As he spoke those words, the faint sound of a blade sinking into flesh echoed in his ears—again… and again.
Yet his steps never faltered. They continued walking until they arrived at the main branch of the Church of the Pale Moon Goddess. Without hesitation, they stepped inside.
They passed through the cathedral, its silence heavy, then moved into a narrow hallway before ascending the stairs.
Reaching the upper floor, they turned toward a door on the right.
With a quiet push from Lancelot, it opened softly.
...
Inside the room, a priest was about to rise, but he froze at the sight of Mr. Shadow and sank back onto his seat. The other three, already seated, trembled, as if raising their eyes would summon a catastrophe.
Finally, Mr. Shadow spoke, his voice calm.
"Where's Priest Hamer?"
The man in the black robe quickly stood and stepped forward.
"I'm here, sir."
Mr. Shadow nodded slowly. "Why did you send someone to possess the Duke—and kill him using my name?"
The man shivered, crawling forward on unsteady legs. "Mr. Alfore… I'm sorry. I… I only acted because I heard the goddess's message about the text!"
A small, unsettling smile crept across Mr. Shadow's face as he raised a hand to his cheek. "So you were following your goddess… is that it?" He chuckled softly. "But what if… what if you didn't? What if you were lying, trying to pry into my secrets?"
"No, Mr. Alfore… I swear on goddess, I could not—" The man stammered, his body trembling.
Mr. Shadow let out a faint sigh. "Is that a lie you tell others, or something you tell yourself to feel safe? Did you even listen to her… or did you just want to keep the text away from me?" He paused, tilting his head. "If I killed you right now… would I be to blame? Hehe."
He withdrew his arms and continued, voice still calm, almost casual. "I already had a plan to find the text. I already knew who possessed it. So why… why did you do that?"
The man could not answer. His trembling intensified.
Mr. Shadow studied him for a long moment, then finally turned, walking away. His words lingered in the silent room:
"You are lucky this… matter… wasn't traced back to me."
The only thing that remained as he walked away was the steady tap of his black cane.
Tap. Tap. Tap.