Dusk washed over the gigantic buildings and humble shops of the city. Caressing Coshire with its last breaths of sunlight as the Far Fetcher dominated the sun once again.
Otres, stripped of his armor and gear, kneeled before a short table. His knees rested over a soft cushion, making sure he felt comfortable.
Hitirus was no different. Except for who he was. The Scaler and Melted Thawed returned beside the rest, leaving a Yonie and Yomie to house his body.
The Yonie was a Mountain Yonie, while the Yomie was a Sandy Yomie. Both were wildly different, but the same thresher love and respect were still there.
Stew steadily boiled before the two Variants, steaming its delicious aroma. Hitirus stared idly into his bowl, wondering where Otres found the ritual to heat something up.
"Now, questions, yes?" Otres spoke with a fatherly tone. "I know your name is Hitirus because Gatruda told me. They manifested themselves as I stalked you."
"Pardon?" Hitirus awkwardly looked up at Otres, almost questioning what he meant by 'manifesting.' "Do they just get information from thin air and appear in someone else's mind?"
Otres laughed. He reached for a nearby silver spoon, then he dipped it in the stew. The chunks of meat, noodles, and vegetables swirled around.
He reached for his napkin, then rubbed the spoon against it. Drying it off. Before facing Hitirus to address his question, he glanced at his throwing shield, which sat idly near the balcony.
"Rich questions, my good friend." Otres finally returned to Hitirus. "I'm going to say this, Ruda collects information, Gat acts on it."
"I - I see... can we manifest Gatruda? I have gifts for you and them," Hitirus asked.
"Of course - the gifts! It is a common courtesy for Noble Minds who find prospects to send them as messengers, even if the message is a gift," Otres explained.
Hitirus reached for his bag, then unzipped it. The overhead chandelier made it easy for him to push aside the broken contents and bring out the gifts.
"An empty book," Hitirus proudly presented Otres his gift. "What will you put inside?"
"My..! This is exactly what I've been meaning to look for. In this book, I'll document a multi-step plan to tether all Golaiths onto our reality," Otres replied.
"Huh? There's so many strange thing's happening... okay, why do you want that? Wouldn't that be cataclysmic?" Hitirus asked.
Otres smirked as he waved away the heating ritual. Allowing the bowls to cool from their fair hour. He dipped his spoon inside, then brought up a small chunk of potato up to try.
"Mmm... just right. Give it a try, Hitirus," Otres ignored the question.
"Not until you answer my question. And also, why are you suddenly so nice? Didn't I just kill some of your guards earlier today?" Hitrus' voice sounded more irritated.
"Fine. In a way, we're committing suicide, but for a good cause. Every Noble Mind ever understands what they must do. I'm no different. I've studied these entities since my younger years," Otres explained.
Hitirus planted his elbow on the table, then anchored his chin on his palm. "So you think this'll stop them?"
"Give us a chance, at least. Once we dragged them out of their reality and into ours, they play by our rules, no more mixed signals. When we say death is final - its final. A Goliath bleeds all the same," Otres answered.
He sighed, then locked onto Hitirus' eyes. "I am the Order Enforcer - a strange Prophet. Not only am I a Prophet, but an Oracle. So I follow the same law the Nine first placed down."
"Why?" Hitirus shot back. He pointed at him, then frowned. "You guys fight Servants, even claim to combat the Nine."
Otres glared right back at him. "Its complicated - this world. Just know, you fought an equal rival. However, the sentence was further reduced because those Variants aren't completely real."
Hitirus fell silent, eyes wider than ever. Despite being told something similar by Zeek, he didn't know if this was true. Yet another Noble Mind said the same.
"They have memories stretching to their childhoods, except they were made as adults. None of them know this because they are firm in their pasts. After all, how could one disprove them?" Otres explained.
"Let me tell you something, I'll summon Gatruda to aid you at some point. But I'm sure you're the right person to show this to. Close your eyes," Otres ordered.
And Hitirus followed.
-In his mind -
A crown sat idly in a crystal throne, statues made of the same material lined the outskirts. The room smelled of fresh blood, with the distant chorus of heavy stomping.
Somebody went mad, enraged by the life given to them. With a war cry, the crown began to fade into obscurity.
It disappeared steadily as dust drained itself from the fine edges and arches. While the crown drained, the statues shattered.
Like glass, they rained cyan and purple crystals. Which further broke upon hitting the pitch black floor. After the whole world went dark, another voice spoke.
"Sichfasch."
-Back outside his mind-
"I've deciphered most of this dream's meaning," Otres continued. "And I'm sorry if this is going a bit fast, but I can sense something big is going to happen."
Hitirus blankly stared at his bowl. "Cyan and purple crystals... Uvurim! Statues, they cement legacies and stories. So some important characters will shatter - die."
Otres raised an eyebrow. "Huh? Oh - oh! That's what those crystals meant. But the crown is the most concerning part. That's why I want to write this book, so the future King can carry our plan on."
"Wait. Since it disappeared slowly, it's probably hinting at a King still being present, they just disappear. And the voice, 'Sichfasch.' Its an order and name," Hitirus explained.
"Sort of like yours, King-cleaver. That's why I believe you're the one for this. Here's my next directive: first thing tomorrow, run to Nestres. Gatruda will watch and guide. I'm going to let you see an old friend."