Rain, Night, Past, Destiny

Rain—night.

Rainy night.

A common phrase, a common weather, a word that could almost be called a synonym for Nostramo.

Karyl opened his eyes.

No, he had not been sleeping.

In reality, peaceful and quiet slumber had long since departed from him. Unlike ordinary people, the scene he saw when he closed his eyes was not that tranquil, melancholic black.

He would see many things, but he could never see peace.

Sitting up, Karyl's expression appeared somewhat dazed; the aching of his muscles and the wailing of his bones had faded away. Even so, he still took several deep breaths to steady his mind.

This had almost become a habit of his, and besides, he needed to be calm enough to handle everything that might happen next.

The nobles would not let this go; Karyl knew this better than anyone.

"It's noisy outside."

The Wraith in the corner said as much.

He was squatting on the ground, gently poking a piece of wood he had picked up from a pile of trash with the index finger of his right hand. When he wasn't using force, his nails didn't have to be so sharp. Therefore, the board was still intact for now.

However, it was hard to say what would happen later.

At this moment, neon lights from outside the window happened to sweep across, casting their boisterous glow through the glass.

Because of this, Karyl could clearly see the Wraith's filthy, matted black hair, which hung over his pale forehead, looking absolutely terrible.

He frowned at this.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Tonight is strange, Karyl."

The Wraith looked up and blinked: "I went to observe at Gargoyle No. 17's location; the Crimson Finale's base has already been taken over by another group. They didn't fight for days to seize it like they used to, which is so strange."

"No. 17?" Karyl asked.

He did not focus on the key information provided by the Wraith for the moment, but instead turned to ask about another seemingly trivial matter.

"Gargoyle No. 17," the Wraith lowered his head and answered in a low voice. "I like it."

"Ah, so you've given them names again. Which part of it?"

"Huh?"

"Which part of it do you like?"

Hesitating, the Wraith looked up again. He grabbed the piece of wood, shook it twice in his hand, and only then answered Karyl's question.

"It... its surface is very smooth?"

"Answer me with a firm tone, Wraith." Karyl smiled slightly. "People should be more resolute when expressing their likes or dislikes."

"Its surface is very smooth." The Wraith straightened his back and said as much. Even his voice grew a little louder.

"Anything else?"

"...It's very new? It's very new, Karyl."

The Wraith laughed. He wasn't very used to this expression yet, so it looked stiff. However, this was already an improvement.

"It's very new," the Wraith repeated. "I like it."

"So, do you prefer new gargoyles?"

"No, that's not it." The Wraith shook his head, still not putting down the piece of wood in his hand. "I have already found No. 18 and No. 19, but I still like No. 17 the best."

"Then, why?"

"Because."

The Wraith's voice ended there. He looked at Karyl blankly, not knowing how to continue. He couldn't come up with any more reasons.

What a poverty of expression.

You chattered on about twenty-three different ways to cook rats on the way back here, and no matter how much I wished for you to be quiet, it was useless. Now, you can't even state a third reason for why you like Gargoyle No. 17.

Staring at the Wraith, two thoughts flashed through Karyl's mind.

"A fractured mind," and—

"Do you have any impressions of the past, Wraith?" Karyl asked.

"Huh?"

"The past. Your past."

The Wraith answered Karyl's question with a look of bewilderment upon bewilderment.

Sighing softly, Karyl had no choice but to repeat his question once more, adding further description.

He had already realized that when speaking with Wraith, it was best not to use metaphors or deliberately leave half your words unsaid.

"Before you met me—or rather, before you entered that mine filled with rats, warmth, and mud—where were you?"

"."

Wraith did not answer immediately. He frowned, beginning to ponder. Kael did not urge him; he could see the effort on Wraith's face. Therefore, he would not be too concerned about the result.

Of course, if Wraith could actually say something, that would be for the best.

Kael could figure one thing out even with his toes—Wraith could absolutely not be a naturally born human or creature. He cared about this deeply.

"I"

"Hmm?"

"Fire, and I was falling."

Wraith whispered. He looked nothing like the naive monster Kael had come to know.

His body was trembling, his face too; the muscles beneath his skin were twitching incessantly, as if he were having a seizure, yet Wraith himself did not seem to notice.

Or perhaps he did notice, but could not stop it.

Kael frowned sternly and gritted his teeth. He had already realized something and braced himself. To be honest, he already regretted asking the question.

In fact, he regretted it deeply.

"Twenty," Wraith continued in agony, his voice trembling.

At this very moment, something began to churn within his pitch-black eyes. Like rotting bones swallowed by a swamp, they struggled unwillingly to see the light of day once more.

Kael clenched his fists tightly, an ominous premonition rising in his heart.

He tensed his muscles and spoke in a low voice: "Stop, Wraith."

".Fate! Fate!"

Wraith roared shrilly, veins bulging on his neck.

Then he screamed and fell backward.

"No! No! I don't belong there! I don't want to go back into the darkness!"

Screaming, Wraith collapsed heavily to the ground, his pitch-black eyes still staring at the ceiling of the Sanctuary. His limbs twitched in unbearable pain.

Kael's preparation paid off. He approached the moment Wraith hit the ground, his right hand already grabbing one of Wraith's, ready to exert force to pull him up—yet, at that very instant, Kael was struck as if by lightning.

Sounds reached his ears.

Wait, were those really sounds?

Or were they merely his own delusions? Amidst the piercing noise and the terrifying whispers that pierced the veil, Kael released his grip in agony; endless numbness and pain surged from the skin where he and Wraith made contact.

Wraith was still screaming, and he

No.

Trembling, Kael exhaled a stream of frigid air. A cold blue light ignited in his eyes—and then, amidst a ruthless indifference and icy shivering, he perceived them.

They.

Things from another world, another dimension.

They were slamming into his heart with a power beyond human imagination, like a collapsing skyscraper, attempting to unearth the truth hidden deep within the heart of Kael Lohars, the lost scion of Nostramo.

They were full of malice, shrieking, stabbing into Kael's heart with tiny, poison-tipped blades.

They wanted his past, his stories, his desires. They made promises without even knowing everything, from worldly wealth to endless power, even showing him a vision of Nostramo reborn.

But there was no Kael Lohars here.

"Get out." Kael said, trembling yet firm. "I have nothing to give you, I have no desires for you to exploit."

Kael extended his right hand and swiftly grabbed Wraith.

"Get out! Get out!" he roared the command, the blue radiance in his eyes brighter than ever before. "Stay away from him!"

"Kael? Kael? Wake up!"

Wraith's panicked shouting made Kael open his eyes wearily. He wanted to speak, but his parched, stuck-together lips prevented him.

Do I not even have this much strength left? he thought, caught between laughter and tears.

"Kael?!"

Shaking, shaking, shaking—then, Wraith tremblingly picked him up and placed him on the broken chair they had salvaged, his movements gentle and careful. Immediately after, a faint breeze arrived.

Kael saw Wraith fanning him with that piece of rotten wood. Wraith was pursing his lips, his eyes wide, his face paler than anyone on Nostramo.

".Don't." Kael said with difficulty.

"You're alive!"

Yes, I am alive, but if you shout a few more times I might just die. I really will die.

Kael looked at Wraith powerlessly, who at this moment seemed to have evolved in a way he never had before.

He understood Karyl's meaning with a mere glance, and Wraith immediately quieted down, gripping the legs of his chair and falling silent.

Of course, this could not last for long.

After a period of silence, Wraith spoke up cautiously.

"Are, are you alright, Karyl?"

"...Water." Karyl said with difficulty.

Wraith leapt up abruptly, kicked the door open with a speed impossible for an ordinary person to track, and dashed outside—Karyl knew what he was going to do; there was a small rainwater filter on the roof of the Sanctuary.

Three seconds later, Wraith sprinted back, pulled a chipped tin cup from beneath the hem of his robe, and slowly moved it to Karyl's lips.

Clearly, he had not forgotten that it was raining outside.

"Are you alright?" Wraith asked gingerly.

"Better—and thank you for bringing me water, Wraith," Karyl said. "Also, I apologize for asking you that question."

"..." Wraith pursed his lips in silence and lowered his head.

"Lift your head," Karyl said softly. "Don't act as if you've done something wrong. You have already done well enough."

Wraith raised his head and looked at him blankly, not understanding what he was talking about.

Karyl merely smiled slightly.

You have already done well enough, if you have been able to hear the voices of those things all this time...

He sighed: "But I still have something to tell you—lift your head."

"Oh."

"In the future, if you get the same feeling as you just did while on a solo mission," Karyl said slowly, "no matter what you are doing, come find me immediately."

Wraith was slightly stunned, and then, his expression brightened at a speed visible to the naked eye: "Your countdown won't reset to zero?!"

"...Is it raining outside?"

Karyl turned his head to look at the open door. He could have discovered the truth of the matter through his own vision, yet he still asked the question, not even forgetting to close his eyes.

"Huh?"

"Is it raining outside, Wraith?"

"It is raining, Karyl—won't your countdown reset to zero?"

"...Is the rain heavy outside?"

"It's alright, but will your countdown reset to zero?"

"..."

Tonight, it was raining in Nostramo as well, though not very heavily.