After a long deliberation, Ebner finally decided to hand the Brood Hive imprint over to Lamia inside the Memory Theater, letting her carry it to that "prison" island somewhere in the western waters of the Southern Continent.
This did not mean the imprint would simply materialize there the moment he triggered the Information Overwrite. It only meant that the memories and records of every living creature and object in the world would show it as having always been there.
Combined with Roselle's modifications to that "prison," not even an Outer God could peer into what lay within.
Bernadette mentioned that reaching the core of that prison ruin requires collecting as many Blasphemy Cards as possible. At the moment, the majority of those cards are split between me, Bernadette, and Klein — the three of us are probably the most likely candidates to open the place.
Ha. If I'm reading things right, once the Information Overwrite is complete, the remaining Blasphemy Cards will probably find their way to the three of us through various convenient coincidences.
Bernadette might get more than her share. My fate and the Fool's aren't quite so easy for anyone to "arrange."
While those thoughts ran through his mind, the Memory Theater's narrative wound to its end. The light and shadow around him faded, and his presence slipped back out through the screen, returning him to the theater's main hall.
He swept his gaze across the cinema-like space, then glanced at the frozen image on the large screen ahead, and laughed quietly to himself.
"This thing from the High-Dimensional Observer is genuinely interesting. Once I've fully mastered it, I should invite the Tarot Club members to come watch together — share each other's most embarrassing memories, shore up our humanity a little. Hmm. My own little Secret Observation Experience."
Pleased with himself, Ebner curled the corner of his mouth and wasted no more time. He let his spirit body simulate the sensation of falling, and withdrew from the Memory Theater's domain.
With his departure, countless threads of Information quietly spread over Reality — and every creature and object in the world quietly updated its memories, its understanding shifting in ways too small to name.
...
On the Future, docked at Morning Star City's harbor, the lean, sun-darkened Sharve crawled out from among the mushroom clusters again and spun toward Frank, a red light flickering in his eyes.
A second later he went completely limp and crumpled to the deck, unable even to sustain his usual frantic urgency.
Frank, unperturbed, walked over, plucked a dark-brown mushroom from a nearby cluster, and pushed it into his mouth. The man started screaming — but his voice grew softer and softer, as though something was filling his throat.
On the upper deck, the Clairvoyant — riding along inside the sailor John — watched the scene and let out a quiet breath.
The Future was moored right beside Morning Star City. Even if he had misjudged and the Mother Goddess of Depravity was genuinely fooled by the surface information on the Divine Chest — even if she sent someone, or projected her power from a distance — there was still Bernadette, an Angel, and the floating city itself, the physical vessel of the Mechanical Emperor, to hold the line. Whether the Future's crew would survive in that scenario was another question entirely.
Worth noting: Ebner had not known in advance what would happen during the ritual. Sending the Future to Morning Star City beforehand had been nothing more than a gut feeling he chose to trust.
Inside Morning Star City's central tower, Bernadette was in the middle of a conversation with Cattleya when she suddenly rose to her feet. Her deep-blue eyes — the color of concentrated ocean — narrowed slightly as she glanced around.
Then she sat back down. The expression on her face held a trace of confusion.
"Your Majesty — what is it?" Cattleya asked.
She reached up to remove her glasses and activated her Pure White Eye, but perceived nothing.
"Nothing," Bernadette said, her voice quiet and even. "I felt something familiar for a moment, that's all."
She had sensed the Memory Theater's power. For just an instant, she had thought she was about to be pulled back into that strange space again.
...
Backlund. Rose Street. The Harvest Church.
"Lilith," silver-haired and silver-eyed, gazed up at the red moon overhead. A breathtaking smile crossed her face, and she murmured soundlessly to herself: "A Discerner indeed — he understood exactly what I meant. Now we just have to see whether the one above takes the bait."
She paused, tilting her head with an air of consideration. "And since the long-term task is finished too, what reward should I give him?"
...
The Forsaken Land of the Gods. Somewhere in the deep dark, a bolt of lightning split the sky and briefly lit the surrounding nothing.
Amon — clothed in a black classical robe, his black pointed soft-cap tilted just so — lifted a hand to adjust his crystal monocle, then turned his gaze westward.
"Something has changed," he murmured in Ancient Feysac. "But I can't tell what."
He paused.
Then the corner of his mouth lifted into a smile, and he spoke a single word: "Brood Hive?"
...
In the ritual chamber of the Observer's Castle, Ebner looked around and found that the five surviving women had, at some point, lost consciousness. They lay across their respective altars. The former Demoness of Apocalypse, Aglaia Constantine, had drifted over to the Divine Chest and was standing beside it with an expression of flushed, satisfied delight.
She noticed Ebner's questioning look and smiled. "The gathering of Source Essence is itself a harbinger of the apocalypse — of all things returning to their origin. The Divine Chest holds only the faintest trace of that essence, but even so, it does wonders for my condition."
She's talking about the Divine Chest, but she's really reminding me that her condition is poor — a polite way of nudging me to deliver on my last promise. Sharp girl.
Ebner saw through it immediately. He smiled and summoned the Yellow Saintess Marionette from the Palace with a wave.
He had promised her as much during his last visit. And Aglaia was his own "daughter," after all. Giving it to her could hardly be called throwing it away.
The moment the Marionette appeared, Aglaia's smile grew brighter. She exhaled softly. "I didn't look closely at the projection last time. So it's Natalia. I never imagined she'd end up as your Marionette."
"You knew the Yellow Saintess?" Ebner asked, surprised.
"I knew her. She didn't know me." Aglaia stepped up to the Marionette and tilted her chin up with two fingers, meeting her eyes. She continued: "Natalia and Roselle were both members of the organization whose name I won't say. When she needed to advance to Angel, she came to Roselle to arrange an ambush on the Golden Saintess, Ignaecia — and it was I who suggested how to do it."
She let her hand fall and smiled at a private thought. "So the Demoness of Catastrophe extraordinary characteristic ending up in my hands... call it fate."
I knew the Yellow Saintess advanced to Angel by killing the Golden Saintess. But Old Yellow was actually the one who helped plan it?
Hmm. The Angel-Fiend sealed inside the Holy Seal — the one who can't remember who she is — couldn't actually be this Golden Saintess, could it?
A pity. After the combined ritual with the Divine Mirror, Divine Sword, and Holy Seal stripped the Destiny Angel's Sequence 1 characteristic, all the souls inside had sunk into dormancy. Otherwise it might be worth showing her to Aglaia.
While Ebner was still turning this over, Aglaia closed her eyes and smiled. "All right. You can take Natalia back now."
Ebner blinked, then looked more carefully at the Marionette. Her body was still that of an Angel, but the power within her had dropped to roughly Sequence 3. The Sequence 2 Demoness of Catastrophe extraordinary characteristic was simply gone — taken by Aglaia through some ability he hadn't even noticed.
"You don't need her body?" he asked.
He had expected to lose a Marionette entirely. A demotion was far better than he'd counted on.
"No need." Aglaia kept her eyes closed, still smiling. "Once I've digested the Sequence 2 characteristic, I'll be able to sustain a long-term spirit-form existence even without a physical body. I might even be able to serve as your messenger — handle your correspondence for you."
(End of Chapter)