Collapsed

Karen remembered opening his eyes last night after completing the symbiosis contract. He remembered carrying Purr to bed with his own hands and pulling the covers over her, and he remembered telling Alfred and Kevin that the symbiosis ritual had succeeded, but that he needed a moment to recover and didn't want to be disturbed. Alfred had taken Kevin back to his room to rest; and then... had he gone into the bathroom for a bath? And then fallen asleep soaking in the tub? Karen shifted slightly in bewilderment, stirring the water with a soft splash. Indeed, his last memory from the previous night was settling into the bathtub, intending to sort out his thoughts while soaking, only to unexpectedly drift off. Intuition told him he had slept for quite a long time. Furthermore, when he examined his internal state, he discovered several new currents of power within him... No, not simply new currents. If power were compared to building blocks, the reservoir of spirituality originally within his body had become vastly richer in color. It was a peculiar sensation, like suddenly gaining perception of several kinds of power—so unfamiliar, yet so intimately known. The corresponding prolonged sleep was likely meant to refill this newly remodeled reservoir. Karen was well accustomed to this; back when he practiced spells, he had frequently pushed himself to the point of overdraft. Just then, Karen realized the water in the bathtub was still warm—not a lukewarm dreg of heat going cold, but the comfortable warmth ideal for a soak. Cupping some water in his hands before his eyes, he actually sensed an aura of Light within it. So, while he was asleep, his body had automatically circulated the power of Light to keep the bath warm for him? "Heh..." Karen shook his head with a chuckle. That was nice too; he would never have to worry about catching a cold if he dozed off in the tub again. Stepping out of the bathtub, Karen dried himself with a towel and changed into fresh clothes. While washing up in front of the mirror, he noticed he seemed a bit different. Not in his facial features, of course—there was hardly room for improvement in his looks anyway. The change lay in his bearing. Though he still looked youthful, a steady composure emanated from him. Described in terms familiar to Karen, it was something akin to... refined grace. If he donned divine robes and stepped into a church, even though he looked young, believers would probably take him for a newly transferred priest. This was likely the change brought about by the power of Light. Karen was quite satisfied with it. He had always been somewhat unaccustomed to his "youth," so he was glad to project a calmer, more seasoned presence. Entering the bedroom, Karen saw no sign of Purr on the bed. Rather than rushing out or ringing the service bell, he walked into the study and glanced at the wall clock. It was five in the afternoon. He had slept through almost the entire day. Checking the calendar closely, he was relieved—a full cycle hadn't passed; he had merely slept through the daylight hours. Beside the desk stood a thermos. As usual, Xili came by every morning, noon, and evening to refill it with hot water. Karen lifted the thermos, opened the teacup lid to find prepared tea leaves inside, brewed a cup, and sat down behind the desk. While waiting for the tea to cool, Karen opened his right palm. With a slight stir of intent, a flame manifested in his hand, shifting shapes at his will. Then, as Karen's right eye narrowed slightly, the outer surface of the fire was tinged with white, instantly taking on the sacred presence of a "holy flame." Right at that moment, the figure of an old man materialized before Karen's desk. "You're still here?" Karen was slightly surprised. "You moved?" The old man was also caught off guard. Looking around, he chuckled. "You brought all my books, so naturally, I followed along. After all, the mental imprint is anchored to the books, not to the house." Then, looking at the holy flame in Karen's palm, the old man gasped in disbelief, "You... you converted to Light?" "Not quite." Karen shook his head. "I knew you had the power of Light in your body, but this is the first time I've sensed the aura of faith in Light from you. Have you turned to the embrace of the God of Light?" "Have you ever considered that what is called the aura of faith in the God of Light might simply be because a part of our own aura is shared with the God of Light? We have always treated what already belongs to us as a gift bestowed by a god, while remaining immensely grateful for it." A bitter smile crossed the old man's face. "You're blaspheming against God again." Without realizing when it had started, the old man had actually grown accustomed to it. Karen opened a drawer containing several packs of cigarettes. He no longer smoked, but he still kept a pack and a lighter on him out of habit, and Alfred always made sure to stock them wherever Karen frequently sat. Tossing a pack onto the desk, Karen asked, "Do you smoke?" "I used to. Alas, the present me cannot smoke. But the colony my true self went to produces tobacco in abundance; my true self should be enjoying it thoroughly by now." "Does smoking make you happy?" "Happy? I can hardly describe the feeling. For a longtime smoker, tobacco can rarely be called happiness." "Indeed." Karen nodded. "If you don't smoke, you naturally have ten points of happiness. If you smoke, the nicotine steals five points from you, keeping you at a base level of just five points. To seek a boost in happiness, you smoke, and nicotine lends you three points, allowing you to reach eight points for a brief time. Once that short period passes, you drop back to five points, and then you have to borrow from it again. You don't blame it for stealing five points of your happiness; instead, you feel grateful for the 'extra' three points it gives you. It clearly stole what was rightfully yours to begin with, yet you remain endlessly indebted to it." The old man fell silent. Naturally, he understood what Karen was hinting at. Karen picked up the cigarette pack, turning it over and over in his hands. "We make up all kinds of reasons to comfort ourselves into believing we need it. We weave all kinds of stories to convince ourselves we can't live without it, taking it for granted that it must be an integral part of our lives. But no matter how many reasons, excuses, stories, and seemingly rational sermons there are, they're all lies. Go half a day without it, and you feel uneasy. Go a full day, and you feel agonizing discomfort. Go three days without it, and your head pounds so violently you feel like slapping yourself. Only then do you clearly realize... you are nothing more than a wretched slave groveling at its feet." "Well, I've grown accustomed to hearing such words from you, yet my heart remains steadfast," the old man said with a smile. "Perhaps, in the eyes of God, you are merely an errant lamb. God will forgive you." A slight smile touched the corner of Karen's lips. He knew that when someone ceased theoretical debate and used such a remark to deflect the topic, it proved their heart was evading the truth. "Then how do you explain this?" The next moment, Karen's right eye flowed with the radiance of Light, while his left eye revealed the unfathomable depth of Order. "..." The old man had no words. "You can think about it carefully. Consider whether your heart is truly still so steadfast." "You are an evil god." The old man gave a bitter laugh. "You've polluted me." "An evil god is nothing more than a dog." "What?" "I hope the next time I see you, you'll have something different to say." "So... you want to control me?" the old man asked. "I really do want to learn more about the Light remn... the current state of the Church of Light lately. After all, if I cover my left eye, who could deny that I am a devout believer of Light?" "I think you're close to succeeding," the old man said. "No hurry, no hurry. According to you, you've already been 'polluted' by me. Just like curing meat or pickling food, letting it sit a bit longer only enhances the flavor." "Heh heh." Leaving a dry chuckle behind, the old man's figure faded away in the study. "Almost forgot—for the sake of that refrigerator, I still need to cook at the cemetery. Sigh." Karen sighed. With the refrigerator not yet moved home, he felt too embarrassed to ask for time off just yet. Just then, the phone rang. Karen picked it up: "Hello, Pavaro Funeral Parlor." "Inquisitor Pavaro? Oh, no, you're Karen." Marlo's voice came through the receiver. "I got your number from Fanny. I've prepared some good wine and fine tender beef for a barbecue tonight. Want to come, Karen?" Karen knew Marlo couldn't suppress his curiosity about the array setup in his possession. For someone genuinely passionate about studying arrays, waiting even an extra day was torment. "Sure, what time?" "Whenever suits you," Marlo said. Karen checked the time. "It might take a little while." "No problem. We usually have late-night snacks past midnight." "That works. Where is it?" "The same factory where you exchanged pointers with Gray. Gray and Wende are coming too, as well as Fanny and Peige. Oh, and Quincy." "All right, I'll try to get there as early as I can." "Haha, take your time, handle your business first. So it's settled?" "Settled." Hanging up the telephone, he stood up and walked out of the study, just in time to see Purr riding Kevin as the dog trotted over: "Oh, you're awake?" Purr asked immediately, then added, "You didn't drain the water in your tub, did you?" "Oh, I forgot." "Then don't drain it. In a bit I'll have Dora and Doreen take a soak in your tub. It'll do wonders for their recovery. You really are extravagant." "And you? Are you alright?" "I'm fine." "Any changes?" Karen asked. "Changes? You mean this?" Purr waved a paw, and a fireball materialized. "First Tier of the family faith system. Low as it is, it's a great start. I can test just how high a tier I can cultivate with a cat's body." Because Purr was perched on Kevin's back, the fireball appeared directly above Kevin's head, and Kevin's fur promptly caught fire. At first, Kevin didn't notice, panting and grinning foolishly out of habit—until he caught a whiff of burning hair. "Oops!" Purr shrieked. She had set the dumb dog on fire. Karen reached out, conjuring a mass of water that splashed directly onto Kevin, soaking the golden retriever completely. He wasn't injured, but a patch on his head was singed bald. "Oh my, so sorry, dumb dog! I gave you a perm without asking first." Kevin didn't blame Purr. Instead, he dashed off to a distance, shook the water droplets frantically from his coat, trotted back, sat down, and scratched at his head with a paw. "Young Master, you're awake." Hearing the commotion outside, Alfred stepped out. "Alfred, have Xili take out a bag of the dumplings I made last time from the refrigerator; I'm taking them with me. Also, make rubbings of a few arrays an Inquisitor might find interesting—nothing overly profound or obscure, just pick a few you think are engaging. I want to take those along as well. In addition, study the descriptions of Kevin's seal in Mr. Hoffen's notes. Once you're ready, I'll try to undo a bit of Kevin's seal." Hearing this, Kevin immediately resumed his goofy grin—a bald patch on his head didn't matter in the slightest now. "Right away, Young Master. Please wait a moment." Karen walked over and sat down on a bench. Purr followed and hopped onto his lap, asking: "What about you? Do you feel anything different?" "A lot has changed, though I don't know the exact effects yet. Still..." "Still what?" "Still, I should find out tonight." Alfred was remarkably efficient. Karen had only been seated for a short while before Alfred returned carrying a bag of frozen dumplings and a notebook with a red cover. "Young Master, shall I put them in the car for you?" "No need, I'll take them myself. By the way, I'll be back quite late tonight." Placing the items in the car, Karen drove to Ivy Cemetery. The gate was open, and Old Saman was sweeping the ground with a large broom. Karen drove in, parked, and got out carrying the dumplings. "What is that?" Old Saman asked curiously. "Dumplings." "Dumplings?" Old Saman shook his head. "What a strange pronunciation." "It's a new dish I came up with recently, fresh out of development. I brought some especially for you to taste." "Oh, really? I'm so thrilled. I'll just pretend not to see that you're merely trying to cut corners on tonight's dinner." "It tastes far better than your boiled macaroni." "Does it? I don't believe you." Karen went into the kitchen to boil the dumplings, then prepared three dipping dishes: one with the thick paste favored in Wien, one with chili sauce, and one with plain fruit vinegar. Old Saman had already set up the small table, and Karen brought out two plates of dumplings. Old Saman used a fork to lift a dumpling into his mouth. "How does it taste?" "Not bad." Old Saman moved on to a second, then a third... Karen, who had picked up a fork, hesitated and set it back down. "You're not eating?" Old Saman asked, sliding Karen's plate over to his own side. "I have a gathering tonight, someone else's treat. Saving room." "Heh heh, good habit." "There are more dumplings; I put them in your refrigerator," Karen said. "Oh? How many?" "About a hundred?" "That many left? I don't believe you. You're pulling my leg." "If you don't believe me, go count them in the fridge yourself." "I will." Old Saman picked up his pipe and tapped it on the table. A plume of smoke drifted from the pipe, and Old Saman reached inside it, pulling out a bag of dumplings and placing them on the table. "Hey, there really are that many. You didn't fool me, kid." Old Saman cracked his neck. "Tell you what. Tomorrow evening, drive your hearse over and haul this refrigerator back." Karen looked down at the pipe. "Take the pipe and the flute along, too." No excitement showed on Karen's face. Instead, he asked, "So soon?" "Yeah. Much faster than expected. The Church of Pamires delegation has already been kicked out of the Ankara Hotel by the Church of Order and is staying in an ordinary hotel in York City. That's essentially the final word. Now it just depends on when your higher-ups issue the final divine decree. Once it comes down, Church of Pamires organizations everywhere will be purged." "Then tomorrow I'll have someone come by to take your measurements and order your clothes in advance." "Hmm?" "What style of funeral do you prefer?" "Well, I haven't really given that much thought." "Then think about it carefully tonight. Tomorrow I'll come take notes." Old Saman took another bite of a dumpling and nodded. "Take your time eating. I'm heading out; I'll come earlier tomorrow." "Go on, go on. Oh, by the way, before you arrived, that captain of yours stopped by. He left something behind. Why don't you return it to him? Or I can just give it to him tomorrow since he's coming again anyway." Old Saman stood up, walked into the cabin, and emerged holding a black mask. Karen reached out, took it, and said, "I'll hand it to him." On the way from here to the factory, he would pass right by Sycamore Street anyway—just a matter of turning a corner. Besides, Karen remembered the custom-made divine robes he had ordered were due for pickup around now. After leaving the mask in the captain's office, he could pick up the robes while he was at it. Karen got into the car. Old Saman sat back down to continue eating his dumplings. Karen tapped the horn three times at him, and Old Saman angrily shot back a "shh" gesture. Over twenty minutes later, Karen drove into Sycamore Street, only to find the spot where he usually parked completely packed with cars. "Are they holding a meeting? So many cars." Karen drove around inside the area, but couldn't find a single space in such a large compound. In the end, he had no choice but to pull back out and park directly alongside the road. He wondered if illegal parking near the Church Affairs Building carried a fine, and if so, whether his God's Servant credential could be used to expense it. *Thud!* Karen shut the car door. Looking toward the Church Affairs Building, which was quite a walk due to where he had parked, he could only sigh and head in that direction holding the mask. He had only taken a few steps when— *BOOM!!!* A terrifying tremor and a deafening roar tore through the air, sending dust billowing across the sky. Steadied against the shock, Karen stared ahead in disbelief. Right before his eyes, that towering Church of Order Affairs Building had... collapsed.