'Now... How am I going to do this?'
The night had transcurred with nothing noteworthy to mention, with the exception of Nephis's silent company. Now that the Nameless Sun had risen in the west and the sky was bathed in grey light, Zachary was busy looking at the crimson coral in the distance.
Stray, grey clouds drifted lazily through the vast expanse of the horizon. As he watched them, Zachary couldn't help but envy them a little bit for their lack of worries and attachments. It made him scoff a little; he had never been that much of a sky-gazing person.
'Stop fooling around man, there's business to address...' Zachary reminded himself with a shake of his head as he felt someone approaching from behind him. 'How am I going to do this?'
He was sitting at the edge of the marble arch, his feet dangling carelessly as he rested on his hands. The Journey to the South was just beginning, and there was no rest for him. He had to be ready for anything.
"Hey, Blabbermouth."
Zachary had long since prepared for this journey, spending sleepless nights in the darkness of the Cathedral going through countless simulations and scenarios. Their dive through the catacombs and successful escape from its entrails was proof of how well he had planned his movements until this point.
"...Mr. Inconvenient."
But there was something he hadn't planned for... The loss of Flow Control.
While he had been quite vocal about how he was going to minimize the use of it in front of the cohort, his Noble Truth was one of his most useful tools. The quiet certainty of its support was a huge failsafe in case anything went wrong, and it would have been especially useful in the frenetic ride of the Builder Statue.
"...Zach."
Wincing painfully, Zachary continued his deep contemplation.
So with Flow Control temporarily gone, he had to reconsider his whole operation. He was already filling the reservoir of essence in his Body, but it was happening at an impossibly slow rate. Simply eating and digesting monster meat was enough to passively fill it, but Zachary had needed more than six months to barely accumulate close to five hundred fragments in his Body. He didn't have that time.
So what he could do was—
"Zachary!"
A violent, bone-rattling yank on his collar forced a sharp wince from his lips. He blinked, looking up to face the immediate author of his sorrows. Towering over his seated figure was Effie, a thoroughly frustrated, almost angry expression flattening her bronze features as she blocked out the grey sky.
Zachary was well aware of just how fierce the huntress could be. Even with their casual, banter-filled relationship, he knew better than to intentionally push her buttons when she looked this irritated. Normally, seeing that expression on her face would make him navigate the conversation with extreme caution...
That would be the case, at least, if it wasn't for how Effie was currently dressed.
Given the stark difference in their current positions, Zachary had to crane his neck back to look at her fully... and there was certainly a lot to look at. It didn't help that Cinder Eyes was actively working against his modesty, greedily drinking in every single piece of visual information his retina could absorb.
The gluttonous huntress had dismissed her bronze armor to let it repair itself within her Soul Sea. In its place, she was now wearing a primitive loincloth and brassiere combination whose design completely ignored aesthetics in favor of pure, raw utility—covering only the bare essentials and leaving the rest of her skin completely bare to the harsh air of the Forgotten Shore. Her toned, powerful muscles practically gleamed beneath the grey sky, her bronze skin showcasing an absurd level of vitality and athleticism.
Cinder Eyes even tracked a stray drop of perspiration as it traveled slowly down the defined lines of her abdominal muscles, before disappearing right between—
'Some things in this world just can't be helped, can they?' Zachary muttered mentally, deliberately forcing his gaze away from the sweat drop. He looked past Effie's shoulder toward the rest of the cohort gathered around the campfire, all of them dressed in similar minimal attire.
Yes. The Beach Episode had officially arrived.
Failing to entirely suppress a scowl, Zachary brought his gaze back to the towering figure of Effie, making a conscious, heroic effort to lock his single eye strictly onto her amber ones. "Yes, Effie? What could you possibly need that requires violently shaking me at this ungodly hour of the morning?"
Hearing his dramatic sigh, Effie raised an amused eyebrow and rested her fists firmly on her hips. Zachary did his absolute best to keep his face completely deadpan.
"Mind telling me why I had to call your name a dozen times before you finally decided to acknowledge my existence, Mr. Inconvenient?"
"Oh, yes. Ummm.... I was trying to ignore you." Seeing her raise her fist dangerously, Zachary quickly added, "Hey, hey. It didn't end up working, right? So, anyway. What can I do for you?"
Effie stared at her raised fist for a second, genuinely debating whether or not she should just punch him anyway. But after a beat, she sighed, lowering her hand and pointing a single finger at his chest. "Oh, I was just wondering why on earth you haven't taken your armor off yet."
She was pointing directly at the Witness Testament. Zachary was the only person in the entire camp who hadn't dismissed his gear.
"Oh, Effie..." Zachary immediately murmured, placing a dramatic hand over his mouth. "While I am admittedly quite easy and certainly available, if you want to see me without clothes, you're going to have to put in a little more effort than that."
His deflective laugh echoed across the arch, causing Effie's eyebrow to twitch further and forcing Kai to abruptly whip his head around from where he was meticulously tending to his arrows.
"Easy?" she repeated, shaking her head to clear the nonsense. "No, forget it. I'm asking a genuine question. You should take advantage of this rest period to let your gear repair from the damage it took down in the catacombs. Who knows when we'll get another quiet window like this."
"But my armor is completely fine," Zachary answered smoothly, turning his body to face her. 'Aside from the gaping hole in the shoulder... But considering the Witness' Testament has a physical defense rating of zero, there's literally no point in unsummoning the mantle just to patch it up.'
"Huh?" Effie blinked, her expression twisting into pure, bewildered disbelief at his casual claim. "How?! How do you survive an entire gauntlet through the catacombs and come out without a single scratch on your gear?!"
Hearing the sheer, offended indignity in her voice, Zachary simply shrugged with a roguish chuckle.
"Git gud."
Effie stood utterly at a loss for words, processing the blatant absurdity of his answer. After a long second, she finally forced her composure back into place. "...Doesn't matter. Take off the armor, Blabbermouth. It's not fair that you're the only one looking decent while the rest of us are stuck looking like this." She gestured with her thumbs toward the rest of the group lounging by the fire.
Zachary furrowed his brow, a slight flash of annoyance crossing his features. The huntress was pressing the matter entirely too hard, and her excuses were starting to wear incredibly thin. The rest of the cohort clearly picked up on the sudden shift in energy, their attention turning fully toward the argument. Even Nephis, who was quietly roasting meat over the fire, slightly turned her head to catch the dialogue.
"Plus..." Effie continued, her voice dropping into a highly playful, mocking tone. "You're making the girls uncomfortable, Blabbermouth. Are you secretly just a peeper hiding beneath that chivalrous facade you like to put on?"
'Peeper? Chivalrous?' Zachary thought, feeling a wave of profound, internal offense. Taking a deep breath to ignore her blatant psychological warfare, he called out to the group by the fire instead.
"Hey! Am I making any of you uncomfortable?"
Nephis glanced over at the sound of his voice, gave a single, definitive shake of her head, and immediately went back to monitoring the meat. Cassie seamlessly mirrored the gesture from her spot.
Zachary turned back to Effie, flashing her a thoroughly victorious, smug grin.
But Effie wasn't about to accept defeat so easily. She coughed awkwardly into her fist, quickly shifting targets. "Come on, Zach... Cassie really wants to see."
Hearing her name dragged into the crossfire so casually, the blind girl snapped her head back toward them. She threw her hands up in the air in a silent, utterly insulted question, a highly offended expression radiating from behind her blindfold.
Zachary chuckled at the rapid-fire silent comedy before letting out a tired, definitive sigh. "Look, Effie. While I am incredibly flattered by your intense fixation on my physics, I'm actually a bit self-conscious about the state of my body. So I'm going to have to firmly decline."
Saying his piece, he turned back around, ready to resume staring at the distant crimson coral.
Seeing such a rigid, polite wall of refusal, Effie's shoulders slumped in dramatic disappointment. "Oh, well. At least I tried, right?" She sighed heavily, turning on her heel to walk away with exaggerated, sorrowful steps.
"There's really nothing I can do—Sike!"
She lunged backward with blinding, superhuman speed. Her fingers accurately hooked right into the existing tear on the mantle's shoulder, and with a single, herculean yank, she ripped the fabric wide open all the way down to his waist.
The incredibly loud, violent tearing sound echoed sharply across the quiet marble arch. The entire cohort froze, their expressions instantly locking into sheer shock—a perfect mirror of the stunned, wide-eyed look Zachary wore as he slowly turned his head to stare at the massive, gaping ruin of his mantle.
"Oh no!" Effie gasped, instantly clapping both hands over her mouth with a hilariously feigned, mock-apologetic look. "What a tragic accident... Such a massive tear! It's going to be incredibly inconvenient to walk around wearing such ruined clothing, Mr. Inconvenient. What a shame... I guess you have no choice but to unsummon it so it can repair in your Soul Sea now."
Zachary took a shaky breath as he looked down at his waist. The torn cloth of the mantle gave way to the black compression shirt hiding beneath. He was as genuinely shocked as the rest of the cohort; he had actually been caught completely off guard. Effie had acted without a shred of hostility, and her sudden maneuver wasn't in any way dangerous to his life. That meant Danger Sense had absolutely nothing to warn him about.
After a few heavy seconds of silence, Zachary finally managed to find his voice. "...You bitch."
The cohort opened their eyes wide at the flowery word, and Effie instantly brought a hand to her chest in a display of mock-indignant offense.
"No, no, no. Don't give me those sorry looks." Zachary shook his finger at her as a wry grin appeared on his marred face. "You knew exactly what you were doing. I'm entitled to curse you at least this much."
The huntress only raised her hands with a mirthful laugh, clearly knowing she couldn't really argue with that logic. After a beat, she looped her strong arm over his neck like a snake, pulling him dangerously closer to her body.
"Now, Blabbermouth, don't be like that," she whispered in his ear, while Zachary closed his eye and desperately began counting the digits of Pi. "This is an opportunity for you. You can finally show off to everyone here."
"There's nobody here I want to impress. Now hands off," he grumbled, pushing the tall girl away from him. But after a beat, a resigned sigh escaped his mouth. There was nothing he could really do at this point. Yielding to reality, he finally called back the Witness' Testament.
Thanks to the grand spectacle, everyone was now paying full attention to them. The entire cohort saw in vivid detail when Zachary's ruined body was finally revealed to the cold light of the Forgotten Shore.
After months of relentless bloodshed and strife, his physique had transformed into something entirely different. It was chiseled, not for the sake of appearances, but for sheer practicality. He was lean, with strong, solid muscles completely covered by heavily scarred skin—a solid core and a broad back. It was the body of a martial artist meticulously built for war. And judging by the numerous scars, both old and new, it was glaringly clear his flesh had tasted plenty of it.
The healthy, natural color of his skin was violently interrupted by a geometric mosaic of red and black burns. From his neck to his shoulder, passing across his chest and abdomen, a myriad of different brutal shapes were drawn through his arms, alongside a huge, jagged gash on his left leg. There wasn't a single place on his body that wasn't wearing the harsh blessing of fire and blood.
The first to react was Effie, who was standing the closest. She took a step back, a sudden wave of deep regret filling her amber eyes. In her playful jest, she had dismissed his "self-conscious" comment as a mere, defensive excuse. But seeing the actual state his body was in... suddenly, the mental image of the bloody corner she had witnessed back in his private quarters at the Cathedral surged to the forefront of her mind. Everything clicked for her all at once, and she bit her lip in genuine shame.
The second was Caster, who studied the structural ruin of his flesh without showing an ounce of repulsion. Instead, the scion looked at him in wary contemplation, his gaze carrying something that surprised Zachary: a distinct tint of respect. Whether as a proud Legacy or simply as another veteran Dreamer, seeing the physical results of directly facing the forces of Corruption and the legions of the Nightmare Spell allowed Caster to deeply empathize with the struggle.
The third was Nephis.
Through last night's quiet conversation, she already knew exactly how far Zachary was willing to go for his goals. But seeing the true, visual extent of what he had brutally carved onto his own body showed her the exact price he had already paid in flesh and blood. As her eyes traveled through every single jagged scar and fresh burn, studying them and trying to deduce their lethal origins, a heavy, unreadable feeling settled behind her grey color.
And finally, there was Kai. He wasn't looking at the horrific scars at all. Instead, his full, undivided attention was locked below Zachary's waist... staring at the fact that the man was actually wearing a pair of modern shorts.
Feeling the sudden wave of silent attention becoming burdensome, Zachary chuckled nervously. "Eight words, miserable arm. Aesthetics," he joked, flexing his right arm dramatically.
"So, are you guys done eyeing me?" Zachary asked with a tired voice, leaning sideways while placing an open palm over his face. "I can pose if you want. I know quite a few—"
His rambling was abruptly interrupted by Kai's frantic, high-pitched question. "Where on earth did you get those shorts?!"
The idol's voice hit a pitch that caught Zachary completely off guard, but Kai entirely ignored the awkwardness as he looked back and forth between Zachary's fitted shorts and his own primitive loincloth. The vast aesthetic difference between their garments seemed to touch a deeper, vainer place than the superstar would care to admit. Aesthetic competition was real.
"Oh, these?" Zachary mused, pinching the black fabric covering his thigh. "They were a present from the Artisans. I'm a close friend of theirs."
The shorts had actually come with the very first bundle of supplies he received when he returned briefly to the Bright Castle. It had come with a pairing tunic to match, but knowing that the journey ahead would be incredibly hard and messy, Zachary had decided to leave the top behind in his room, only carrying the shorts with him as tactical inner garments.
"A gift?" Kai repeated, sounding almost personally insulted. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get the Artisans to accept a commission for simple clothing? Even I had to wait a couple of months before ordering something!"
But just as the idol was about to launch into a full-blown lecture regarding market value and production demands, Caster interrupted him with a heavy sigh. "That is your primary question, Night? About clothing?"
He looked at the archer with a thoroughly weird frown before finally turning his attention back to Zachary. "...What in the Spell happened to you?"
Zachary looked back at the scion for a few quiet seconds before giving a casual shrug. "A stone hit me."
Caster's frown deepened sharply, before a sudden flash of realization illuminated his eyes. "That Echo... It's one of those living statues, right? We usually avoided them at all costs during our hunts. I can't believe you actually managed to best one of them... Was it in single combat? What did it—"
"Breakfast is ready," Nephis called out suddenly from the fire.
Like breaking a binding spell, the cohort immediately stopped crowding around Zachary and instead filed over to sit around the campfire.
Accepting the plate Nephis extended toward him, Zachary briefly locked eyes with her. She said absolutely nothing, nor did she allow a single change in her stoic expression, but Zachary knew deep down that she had intentionally cut the conversation short for his sake.
Giving her a quiet, grateful nod, Zachary bit into the roasted meat without even letting it cool.
It was incredibly tasty.
Breakfast passed without anything worth mentioning. It seemed that Nephis had given the cohort her own explanation for the existence of Thunder Song, carefully keeping the core secret he had shared with her while revealing just enough to allow him to continue using his Legacy without raising eyebrows. That arrangement worked perfectly for him.
Sitting cross-legged, Zachary had just finished digesting the essence from the meal and was casually tossing the black key in his hand. Despite the little comedic theater he had just endured with Effie, the crux of his dilemma remained unchanged: how was he going to face the future hurdles?
But before he could truly dive into his strategic pondering, Zachary felt a presence walking in his direction. Shaking his head with a quiet chuckle, he looked up to see Kai gracefully taking a seat right beside him. The archer's eyes flicked down to Zachary's shorts for a fleeting, desperate second before he flashed a smile that managed to shine brighter than the dull grey sky above them.
"While I appreciate the company, don't you ever think I am going to share my wardrobe with you," Zachary said immediately, slightly narrowing his single eye.
Kai's green eyes widened at the preemptive accusation, but he quickly laughed it off sheepishly. "No, no, no, nothing like that. I have enough class to never copy another person's style, you know? No, I actually came to talk to you for a different reason."
Genuinely intrigued by the sudden serious shift, Zachary leaned backward lazily on his elbows. The idol pressed on.
"While I was back at the Castle after our initial meeting, I went around asking a few questions..." He began, his voice dropping into a grave baritone that made a faint tension creep over Zachary's shoulders. "And... absolutely no one recognized the names of the artists you mentioned back then. So, either they're not famous at all... or something is seriously wrong."
Zachary blinked a few times before abruptly erupting into laughter. He couldn't believe Kai was still actively ruminating over that passing conversation. The fact that the original novel had completely glossed over the sheer, prideful attachment the idol had to his musical career was something that amused him dearly. It was such a mundane, ordinary thing, and yet it seemed to be a core pillar of the superstar's identity.
"Why are you telling me this like it's my fault?" Zachary asked back with a snort. "I think the blame lies entirely on you for being surrounded by such uncultured people."
The archer opened his eyes wide, shock and bewilderment mixing in equal measures on his flawless face. But Zachary didn't let him recover.
"Let's do this. I'll throw off some of the music I use to listen to, and you tell me if you've heard of any of them, alright?" Zachary suggested, a sudden spark of excitement hitting him.
"Okay, okay," Kai answered immediately, his competitive idol spirit instantly mirroring Zachary's energy.
Zachary wasn't doing this just for the giggles. He actually wanted to systematically gauge the exact depth and gravity of the information gap between his original era and the current timeline of the Waking World. Taking a deep breath, he fired the first shot.
"Elvis?"
"No," Kai shook his head.
"Sinatra?"
"No."
"Elton John?"
"Nope," the archer shook his head again.
"Alright, speedrun !" Zachary suddenly declared with a sharp click of his fingers. "I'm going to rattle off some name, and the second I hit it, you buzz in. Got it?"
Kai nodded fiercely. "I'll tell you."
"You ready?" Zachary asked one last time, taking a deep breath to fuel his lungs.
"All right... Asia, Europe, America, Kansas, Chicago, Boston, Player, Silver, Marvin Gaye, John Denver, Jim Croce, Billy Joel, Juan Gabriel, Luis Miguel, José José, Zoé, Caifanes, Enanitos Verdes, Los Bunkers, Soda Stereo, Hombres G, Daft Punk, Spandau Ballet, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Fleetwood Mac, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, The Police, The Clash, The Cure, The Who, Dire Straits, Radiohead, Rammstein, Depeche Mode, Sticky Fingers, Journey..."
With every single legendary name Zachary spat out, Kai just kept shaking his head, and a deep, cold sense of foreboding began creeping into the back of Zachary's mind.
A couple of centuries had passed between his original lifetime and the current era of the Nightmare Spell, but even allowing for the passage of time, a cultural erasure of this magnitude shouldn't be possible. But then, a grim piece of historical context slotted into place.
Zachary realized he had been listing bands and artists that originated entirely from the Americas and Europe—regions that were now completely inhospitable, dead zones in the modern Waking World.
Most of the American continent had been utterly pulverized by the Category Five Nightmare Gate, and Europe had been decimated even earlier during the brutal resource wars that birthed the Dark Ages. With those civilizations wiped off the map, their digital footprints and physical media had vanished into the void of history.
However, another crucial detail surfaced in his mind: NQSC was geographically located in what used to be Asia. If any cultural fragments survived, Kai should at least be familiar with names from that side of the globe.
'I've got you now, you motherfucker...' Zachary thought, his spirit instantly reigniting as he pivoted his strategy. "Masayoshi Takanaka, Nujabes, Mariya Takeuchi, X Japan, One Ok Rock, Mil—"
"Oh! I know One Ok Rock!" Kai suddenly shouted, practically beaming with joy at finally recognizing a single goddamn name on the list. "They're that really old, ancient band, right?"
'Old?... Old?!... You fu...' Inwardly, Zachary nearly threw out a profanity. He had to violently remind himself that, from Kai's chronological perspective, that statement was mathematically accurate.
"Yeah... yeah. I guess they are old," Zachary muttered, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "But hey, at least they're still great, right?"
"Well..." Kai murmured, tilting his head slightly in a critical, musical critique. "They're pretty dated. That heavy mix of distorted guitars and raw percussion isn't really my vibe, you know? Gale and I prefer a much more refined, melodic synth base with—"
At that exact sub-genre breakdown, Zachary checked out of the conversation completely.
It was one thing to call a favorite band ancient; it was a completely different, unforgivable sin to actively diss their arrangement right in front of him. It was a thoroughly hilarious display of hypocrisy, and Zachary himself was entirely unable to see the glaring irony of his own sudden, deeply offended musical elitism.
A few minutes passed, and Zachary only managed to stop the idol's musical rambling by handing him the Blood Arrow. Kai's eyes nearly escaped their sockets when he read the Rank of the Memory, and he almost fainted when he heard the details of its enchantments. Zachary had to immediately calm the idol down to avoid drawing any more attention to their corner of the arch.
They remained sitting together in a friendly, relaxed atmosphere, watching as the stray clouds drifted lazily above them. The archer suddenly turned to him, a profound sentiment settling behind his emerald eyes. The comfortable vibe remained, but the sudden, intense heaviness of Kai's gaze made Zachary instinctively take a precautionary step away from the idol.
"What, falling for me already?" he asked with a sharp click of his tongue, feeling a little uncomfortable under the sudden hyper-focus.
Blinking twice at the blunt accusation, Kai immediately shook his head. "No! Nothing like that! I don't know what rumors you've heard about us idols, but I definitely like women." Giving a charming, melodic laugh, the idol smoothed his voice. "It's just... I'm having a really hard time reading you. Which is pretty difficult, you know? Considering my Flaw and all."
"Please, don't misunderstand," Kai quickly added, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. "I don't have any ulterior motives or anything. I just genuinely want to get to know you better."
Zachary raised an amused eyebrow but remained entirely silent.
"Hmmm... You mentioned before that you used to work at a convenience store, right?" The archer mused, scratching his chin as Zachary gave a simple nod of confirmation. "I honestly can't picture you working behind a counter... Is there an anecdote you can share with me? I would love to hear a story about it."
Hearing the excited pitch in Kai's voice and seeing his eyes reflect such earnest, innocent curiosity, Zachary felt a sudden, distinct pressure wash over him.
It wasn't a threat; it was just the heavy narrative expectation of having to deliver an interesting story. But unfortunately, the reality was that the Original One's life had been completely monotonous and bleak after his parents' deaths. He didn't have a thrilling convenience store saga.
After a few seconds of internal calculation, Zachary finally broke the silence.
"You know? There's really not much to tell about a convenience store. At best, I could talk about some of the weird midnight clients that used to drift in," he said, leaning forward as his voice dropped into a deeper, conspiratorial register. "But if we're going to talk about weird people, I have a much better tale to share."
The sudden change in atmosphere spread instantly through their section of the marble arch. Kai instinctively mirrored him, leaning forward, completely ready to absorb the details.
"What I'm about to tell you is a true story, man."
"Yeah, I know," Kai said simply, his Flaw automatically verifying the absolute veracity of the statement.
"Seriously, man. Truth straight out of my chest," Zachary repeated, doubling down. "God can strike me down right here if I'm lying."
"Yeah, I know it."
"Please, trust me, man!" Zachary insisted, deliberately raising his voice. "My dead grandmother can rise from her grave right now only to be smitten into holy ashes again if I'm caught—"
"I know! I know it, Zach!" Kai interrupted, running a tired hand over his face. "For the gods' sake, you already know about my Flaw, man. You don't have to over-insist on the cosmic stakes."
Zachary cleared his throat. Cinder Eyes subtly picked up on how several members of the cohort were now pausing their chores to look at them from across the arch. Finally, flashing his signature roguish grin, he began.
"Before working at the convenience store—much earlier, actually—I worked at a delivery service company," Zachary stated with a proud nod. "It was just for a summer. You know those logistics apps, right? Where you want to deliver a package across the city but you don't want to use standard mail, so you request a courier through the app, someone picks it up, and they take it straight to the destination."
"Huh? Really?" Kai interrupted, his tone shifting into something wistful. "I thought most delivery services used automated drones nowadays."
Zachary looked at the idol with a perfectly flat, deadpan expression. After a heavy beat, he asked in a monotone voice, "Who's telling the story, you or me?"
Realizing his slip-up, Kai flinched slightly. "Sorry. Please, continue."
"No, by all means, continue if you want, Kai." Zachary decided to push the button a little bit more, leaning into the bit. "It clearly appears you know far more about my life experiences than I do, isn't that right?"
"I'm sorry... Zach. Please continue," the archer said, raising his hands apologetically.
"Because it's not like I actually lived through this—oh, wait, I did! So why argue the logistics with me, Kai?" Zachary pressed further, adopting a tone of deeply feigned, dramatic insult.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, dude!" Kai exclaimed, covering his eyes in sheer exhaustion. "For the Spell's sake, why are you doing this to me?"
Laughing quietly at the idol's dramatic defeat, Zachary sighed and picked up the thread.
"Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. So I was talking to this girl, and she suddenly says to me, 'My boyfriend isn't coming home tonight, so we could—'"
"Delivery! We were talking about a delivery package!" Kai interrupted, covering his eyes again. Seeing the sudden comedic spectacle, Effie took a tentative, highly intrigued step in their direction.
"Oh my, I am so sorry, Kai," Zachary sighed with a theatrical, heavy heart. "It's just that I get distracted so easily. And when someone rudely interrupts my flow..."
Laughing once more at Night's completely defeated expression, Zachary finally let his voice settle into a steady, narrative rhythm.
"Like I said, I worked there for a summer. But earlier that season, there had been a massive spike in cases where the tru—the PTVs were being violently assaulted and the high-value delivery products stolen. Because of that, the company mandated a strict security protocol: every truck had to be operated by a two-person crew. Standard safety measures, alright?"
Seeing Kai nod intensely and noticing Effie quietly taking a seat right beside the archer, Zachary continued.
"Well, I was assigned as a partner to this older guy. Mid-forties, unmarried, a really tough, rugged bastard, but an incredibly nice pal all around." Zachary paused, his eyes wandering up to the grey horizon, a perfectly crafted reminiscing expression settling over his features. "You know how it is. At that age, a man can confidently say he's seen almost everything... especially considering the kind of harsh world it is out there, right? So consider my absolute surprise when that specific day happened."
He paused for effect.
"What day was it?... I can't quite remember the exact date, but it was damn hot, that's for sure. The type of suffocating heat that makes your skin crawl and leaves you desperately craving a freezing cold beer the second the shift is over." He passed a slow hand over his neck, as if he could still feel the phantom dryness in his throat. "We had received a routine pickup order, so we arrived at this dilapidated, ancient concrete building near... the outskirts. Yeah. Right near a really bad, dangerous neighborhood. Let's just leave it at that."
By this point, the rest of the cohort was still lingering near the remnants of the fire, but their bodies were completely turned in his direction.
"The standard delivery process is incredibly straightforward. The app handles the transaction, the tracking, and the logging. You just need to physically receive the package, have the owner sign the digital manifest, and note any additional handling details." Zachary stopped for a brief second, tracking the subtle movement of Nephis as she casually walked over to join their circle. He didn't miss a beat. "Now, there's a strict corporate privacy policy in place. The delivery couriers legally cannot look inside the package, nor can they inquire about its contents. It's an obvious rule... but most times, we used to ask anyway just to break the ice."
"It wasn't because we actually cared about the merchandise, mind you, but simply to pass the time with the client while the system registered the package. Usually, people don't have an issue with it. I mean, come on, what are you typically sending through a local courier? Clothing, electronics, small furniture, maybe some embarrassing personal items. In those cases, the client would usually just laugh, dismiss it, or plainly tell us they'd rather not say."
Zachary looked around the expanding circle before dropping his voice further.
"So, we arrived at the location, and we finally met the client. It was a man. Not remarkably old, but the way his face was deeply wrinkled made him look... uncanny. He was bald, slightly hunched, and the way he walked out toward our truck was entirely eerie. At the moment, we didn't pay it too much mind because our eyes were solely focused on the asset he was carrying."
Zachary watched as Caster silently moved to stand right behind Effie, while Nephis smoothly sat down beside her, bringing Cassie along. The entire cohort was assembled.
"The asset was a portable cooler. A small, plastic cooler with a noticeable, heavy dent warped into the lower edge. I was the one who reached down to pick it up, and boy... it was significantly heavier than it looked." Taking a deep breath, Zachary registered the complete, pin-drop silence of the arch. Everyone was leaning forward, fully immersed in the gravity of his words.
"I mentioned how clients usually reacted to the question, because when my partner passingly asked what was inside the box, the man didn't give us a normal response. Instead, he locked his eyes onto my partner with a dark, angry frown and snarled: 'Mind your fucking business.'"
The cohort opened their eyes wide at the sudden, raw toxicity of the line. After a calculated beat, Zachary pressed on.
"Now, given the privacy policy I mentioned, that would technically be a valid refusal. We shouldn't have been asking in the first place, right? But like I said, my partner was a tough, seasoned character. He immediately felt something fishy about the whole setup, and especially about the man's intense hostility. So, he pushed back. He smiled and said: 'Come on, friend, don't be like that. At least give us a category so we know what we're transporting. We need to be sure it's safe... What's in the box?'"
Zachary stopped, letting the heavy quiet stretch over the marble arch.
"But the man just stood there, unblinking, and repeated: 'Mind your fucking business.'"
"That second refusal was the exact moment I carefully set the cooler back down on the asphalt. I was starting to feel a cold knot forming in my stomach; something was deeply, fundamentally wrong here. My partner was clearly on the exact same page. Dropping his friendly courier act entirely, he took a heavy step toward the guy and said: 'Look, man. This is for both our security and yours. We legally need to verify the nature of the cargo. So I'm going to ask you one last time... What's in the box?'"
"The man's frown deepened sharply, his wrinkles twisting his features into a grotesque grimace that sent a physical chill straight down my spine. In that moment, looking at his face... it felt as if the man wasn't entirely human. He just hissed back with an angry, venomous voice, repeating the exact same phrase he had been chanting the entire time: 'Mind your fucking business.'"
A sharp, audible breath hitched somewhere in the circle, cutting through the faint, distant crackle of the campfire. Zachary let the tension hang in the air like a physical weight.
"That was the breaking point. My partner stared at the man for one long, agonizing second before stating in a completely flat voice: 'We won't be delivering your package. You can file a formal complaint through the app, but this truck isn't moving your cargo.' And without another word, he turned on his heel and walked back to the vehicle. I followed a second later, but not before looking back one last time. The man was standing there under the blistering sun, raising a trembling fist in the air, cursing our names... right next to that dented cooler resting at his feet."
"That was only our first pickup of the morning, so despite the incredibly tense encounter, we had a schedule to maintain. We continued with the rest of the day's deliveries. My partner actively tried to lighten the mood as we drove, and we talked about a million different things to kill the stress. I vividly remember him launching into this long, cynical rant about why he never got married, excusing himself by saying he didn't see the financial point in supporting the modern marriage industry."
Looking up at his captivated audience, Zachary flashed a casual, knowing smile.
"I mean, if you think about it, in this current day and age, what is marriage even for? There's no longer a central church, it's a bureaucratic nightmare to get property registered under a single legal name... Honestly, only wealthy Legacies would even bother worrying about things like that. Those pompous, aristocratic families only ever care about preserving their pristine pedigrees and managing corporate inheritances..."
After a brief, loaded second of silence, Zachary coughed awkwardly into his fist.
"He didn't say those exact words, obviously. I just threw that specific flavor text in there... you know, to make the narrative more engaging to the current demographic." Laughing awkwardly, he turned his gaze directly onto Caster. "But it's totally something he would say. And come on, Caster... you know it's fundamentally true."
The Legacy tightly pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling a slow, suffering breath. "Please, Zach... at least attempt to control your tongue in my direct presence."
"Focus on the damn story!" Effie barked, her amber eyes burning with irritation as the entire cohort collectively forced him to stop his meta-commentary.
"Sorry, sorry," Zachary chuckled, raising his hands before sinking back into the rhythm of the tale. "Anyway, we kept working. The vibe stayed a bit strained for a while, but by the time the late afternoon rolled around, we had practically forgotten the entire exchange, chalking it up to just another weird encounter among a hundred normal ones. My partner even bought me a burger from this famous joint down the road, which was more than enough to completely lift our spirits."
"It wasn't until the end of the shift, when we finally returned the truck to the company's central headquarters, that we saw something that turned both of our bodies into absolute stone..." His voice dropped into a dark, gravelly baritone, and every single person in the cohort held their breath, completely paralyzed as they waited for the drop.
"There, sitting right in front of the locked garage gate... was an object that made a wave of intense nausea hit my throat. The cooler was there. Completely alone. Bearing the exact same distinct, warped dent I had examined that morning."
Nobody spoke. The silence was absolute. Zachary pressed on with a grave, unhurried cadence.
"I stood completely frozen. My stomach flipped, and a violent wave of shivers raced down both of my arms. I couldn't even process the reality of it until my partner barked at me to go call the authorities. The corporate building was located downtown, right next to a major avenue, so I immediately turned and sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me toward the nearest police precinct. I frantically explained the situation to the desk sergeant, and seeing the sheer, unadulterated panic written across my face, they acted immediately, following me right back to the headquarters."
"I arrived back at the garage only a few minutes later. My partner was standing a few feet away from the drop point... but this time, the lid had been moved. The cooler was wide open."
The silence stretched incredibly thin among the gathered characters, a thick, claustrophobic tension washing over the entire circle. Effie leaned forward, her fingers subconsciously digging into her knees as she whispered, "What... Zach, what was in the box?"
Zachary slowly turned his head to face her. His single, crimson eye locked dead onto her amber ones, his expression perfectly mimicking a mask of absolute, unvarnished terror.
Finally, he spoke in a completely flat, deadpan voice.
"Mind your fucking business."
It was as if a spell had been broken. The tense, terrifying atmosphere vanished instantaneously, replaced by a sudden, heavy wave of awkwardness. A bizarre silence spread through the cohort as they glanced at one another, their intensely dramatic expressions rapidly twisting into something incredibly funny.
This silence was only broken by Zachary's voice cutting through the quiet.
"What's in the box?!" he shouted, delivering his absolute best, desperately frantic impression of Brad Pitt.
Effie stared dead at him. Her clenched fists began to tremble violently as her lips twisted into a dangerous snarl. She tried with every fiber of her being to hold her composure together, but Zachary's utterly smug, punchable grin completely shattered it. With a roar of frustration, she lunged straight from her sitting position to tackle him into the marble dirt.
But this time, Zachary was ready. Anticipating the exact moment of gravity-defying violence, he slid to the side and dodged her easily, springing to his feet and backing away with quick, light steps.
"Come here, you little shit! Give me back my precious time!" the huntress yelled, pivoting wildly as she tried to grab him.
Zachary simply glided out of her reach, dodging every single one of her furious, herculean attempts with an effortless ease that only made Effie's frantic lunges look increasingly ridiculous. With Flow Control down, he was relying entirely on raw, unassisted muscle memory, and yet his movements were perfectly fluid.
Watching the absolute chaos unfold, and looking over at how the rest of the cohort was just slowly shaking their heads in collective disappointment, Nephis couldn't contain it anymore.
A clear, rare sound broke over the ancient marble arch as the stoic Changing Star genuinely burst out laughing.