In an office beneath Saint Hillan Cathedral in Saint George District.
Everyone gathered around the long, dark table was looking toward the middle-aged man seated at the head on the left.
He had a distinctive head of short brown hair, slightly curly and unruly, stubbornly sticking out in every direction. His features were firm and well-defined, and he looked a little like the sort of person who spent so much time in a lab that he forgot to groom himself.
At that moment, his lips were pressed together, and his expression was hesitant, yet tinged with resolve, as though he were making an extremely difficult decision that went against his heart.
After taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he pulled an ancient silver mirror with strange patterns from beneath the table. Black gemstones on either side were arranged like "eyes."
It was the Sealed Artifact he had been entrusted with after becoming captain of the Machinery Hivemind in the Backlund Diocese: Artifact 2-111, the "Magic Mirror" Arrodes.
As soon as he took out the "Magic Mirror" Arrodes, ripples of light shimmered across its surface, quickly weaving themselves into flowing scarlet words:
"What would you like to ask?"
Beside him, a Machinery Hivemind squad captain curiously watched the "Magic Mirror" on the table and muttered under his breath:
"Arrodes seems to be in a pretty good mood today. It usually doesn't get straight to the point like this."
As soon as he finished speaking, ripples stirred across the "Magic Mirror" again, and new lines of words appeared, each one still dripping with blood:
"You ignorant human, what do you want to learn from the great Arrodes this time?"
"So you prefer it when I'm a little more arrogant?"
"Your tastes are a little strange, but the great Arrodes can accommodate you."
After Arrodes replied, the squad captain who had spoken earlier sheepishly fell silent.
The Machinery Hivemind captain in charge of the "Magic Mirror" rubbed his stubborn brown hair and sighed inwardly. Then he looked at the "Magic Mirror" before him and asked directly:
"Great Arrodes, I want to know what happened in the casino controlled by the Black Wolf Gang on Miluk Street, in the Backlund Bridge area, in the early hours of this morning."
Ripples moved across the surface of the "Magic Mirror" Arrodes. The blood-red words disappeared, replaced by new ones:
"This question requires two questions in exchange."
The Machinery Hivemind captain asked in surprise, "Why?"
Arrodes quickly replied, "Your question should be divided into two parts: what happened, and who was involved."
"Of course, if you don't want to know about the people involved, we can exchange one question for one question."
"Also, that counts as a question."
He somewhat ruefully rubbed his unruly, slightly curly, yet still resilient hair, then sighed:
"No problem. Tell me the answer."
A cheerful-looking shimmer rippled across the silver mirror, and an image appeared, dim and hazy, as though obscured by a black curtain:
Inside the casino building, two blurry figures steeped in intense colors flickered in and out of view. One moment they were in the washroom, the next in the corridor, then in the stairwell. The image kept skipping and stuttering.
A few seconds later, the image froze on the third floor. The two figures, steeped in intense colors, stood in the corridor, facing a mass of flowing shadows in the room opposite.
Then the image started skipping and stuttering again, flashing white or black from time to time. In the gaps, arcs of electricity and frost occasionally streaked across the scene.
Soon, the two figures steeped in intense colors disappeared, leaving only flowing shadows that filled the entire room.
The next moment, the image shifted to the street outside the casino. A figure whose entire body was covered in colors, with no details visible, stood in the middle of the street and raised its right hand. Then white light engulfed the image, while thunderous booms rang out again and again.
As the white light and thunderous noises faded, the "Magic Mirror" grew dark once more. Silver words tinged with red quickly surfaced:
"Two forces of high status interfered with my vision. Even the great Arrodes could only see a few blurry, flickering images."
"One of these forces was full of corruption, filth, shadows, and mutation. It came from the one worshipped by the Aurora Order."
"As for the source of the other force of high status, I don't know. The related information seems to have been blocked."
Without giving the Machinery Hivemind members a chance to ask anything, Arrodes finished its brief description and immediately said:
"Now it's my turn to ask."
The Machinery Hivemind captain's expression stiffened. He felt he had gotten the short end of the stick. Such vague, incomplete, hard-to-decipher information hardly seemed worth answering three questions from Arrodes.
And Arrodes was making him uneasy today for some reason. He had a feeling its questions would cost him something very important.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and said, "Go ahead."
Blood-red handprints, as though made by tiny baby hands, suddenly appeared on the silver mirror lying on the table. Then words, blood-red and seeming to flow, surfaced one after another:
"First question: What exactly do you usually do to relieve your sexual urges?"
Feeling the gazes of those around him, some obvious, some discreet, the Machinery Hivemind captain had a momentary urge to choose punishment. But remembering there were still two questions to come, he shut his eyes, gritted his teeth, and answered:
"When I'm bathing, I close my eyes and fantasize. Or I get a magazine, lean back against the headboard or the sofa, and then... use... my hand..."
The blood-red words on the silver mirror burst apart in celebration:
"Correct!"
"Second question: Who do you fantasize about when you're bathing?"
After Arrodes's question appeared, a suspicious flush spread across the captain's bronze-tinged skin. He lowered his head and spoke in a barely audible voice:
"I choose punishment."
"All right..." A line of words drifted across the silver mirror, sounding a little reluctant. Then—
Boom!
A silver-white bolt of lightning appeared out of thin air and struck the Machinery Hivemind captain, making his already untidy hair stand on end and turn from brown to charred black.
Whether Arrodes had done it on purpose or it was a coincidence, the soot-covered captain blew a ring of smoke from his mouth and even burped.
After giving him a moment to recover, new words quickly surfaced on the silver mirror:
"Third question: If one day the person you fantasize about while bathing came to you with your favorite magazine and invited you to relieve your urges together, what would you do?"
He closed his eyes briefly, ignoring the astonished, curious, or hesitant looks around him. His gaze was firm as he said:
"I'd pull the trigger on him. The real him would never do something like that."
"All right, the question-and-answer game is over. Have a pleasant life."
The final line of words flashed across the silver mirror, which quickly fell silent, leaving only the awkward people in the office.
"That is the full account of how the Machinery Hivemind asked me for answers. I did not reveal any information about you or your favored one, nor did I give them any hints."
"Exalted Being, neither now nor in the future will I reveal any of your information or give them any hints. Arrodes bears you no ill will."
Cyril looked at the rows of rather obsequious silver words in the full-length mirror. For some reason, an image came to mind of a little person huddled inside the mirror, gazing up at him cautiously.
If Arrodes had a physical form outside the mirror, it would probably look like that.
He sighed inwardly, then gave the full-length mirror a slight nod. "Well done."
"It is my honor, great and exalted Being."
Ripples spread across the mirror in rings. Even after Arrodes's words disappeared, they continued to echo for quite a while before new words appeared:
"Exalted Being, one of your believers is planning to steal a Sealed Artifact from beneath Saint Hillan Cathedral. However, according to my calculations, unless his efforts are interfered with by the power of an Angel or higher, his odds of success are infinitesimally close to zero."
"May I ask if this is a task you assigned him? Would you like me to provide him with some necessary assistance? I would only need him to take me out with him."
Cyril blinked, staring in a daze at the words on the mirror.
What? Since when did I have a believer? And when did I tell him to steal a Sealed Artifact from beneath Saint Hillan Cathedral?
He knew every word, so why did the whole message seem so unfamiliar?
Before you continue