Vere stood in front of his bar, fathoming at the one-way glass. From outside, no one could see in unless he let them. With a subtle thought, he could somewhat influence the structure—which seemed eager to adhere to his thoughts to the best of its abilities.
Our handsome detective wanted to give it a worthwhile name. For such a special gift, he had to bestow a name that meant something to him personally. Just so he wouldn't forget it.
Suddenly it hit him faster than a bullet train. It might've not been the best name, but it was special in its own right.
The seductive neon sign hanging above the door sputtered out sparks in approval as it formed the words "Ragtime Paradise." Yellow-red fluorescent light radiated off of it and surged towards him as these words took root in his cognitive nexus, the link between the two deepenings even further.
As he opened the door to Ragtime Paradise, his eyes flicked over to the conspiracy board behind the bartender's counter. The sticky notes that he gained and utilized—the Details—were on their own little portion of the board. Scribbles that seemed half masterpiece, half cartoon dotted the spot they took. They depicted cops with the head of pigs dancing over a wolf with a gangster's clothes.
A new sticky note hung beneath it, a Detail he had picked up on earlier but wasn't really informed of.
>Detail Gained: (Wolf Shack). Designate it as a Clue?
…Vere took stock of it, and as he did, it shifted into a Polaroid photo. Interestingly, this resulted from him deciding it was a Clue, the words changing into a cursive scrawl surrounding a showcased scene.
It was a zoomed-in photo of the victim of the last Case.
Vere leaped over the counter with sauntering steps as he glanced over the general contents of the conspiracy board. It seemed to have a direct link with his current thoughts and information. Unlike the limited connection with Ragtime Paradise, it seemed to fully respond and encase his thoughts.
He had only one question—or at least one crucial question regarding this. Not how, but why? Why exactly could it do this sort of thing? The SAD had answers as words emerged from the darkness of his subconscious.
>Would you like to enter the Cognitive/Thought Nexus? A tutorial will be provided.
Yeah, sure. Why not trust the machine voice? Vere was a little bored anyways since the excitement from the Case had faded considerably.
He was partially conflicted about that, too. To say nothing of the joy he seemed to display when fighting, it was something he felt like he genuinely liked. But, on the other hand, his mind failed to respond to the act of murder in any meaningful way—it was just a fact of this world. Whether he was the killer, the witness, or the man that was left to figure it all out, it didn't matter.
There was an excitement to it.
'Man, whoever I was in the past…I must've been fucked in the head ey? Oh well, nothing I can do but keep being myself….' He seemed to loathe to admit it as his eyes were hidden beneath his messy strands of hair, a shadow cast over his face. Still, a self-deprecating smile formed from the curving ends of his lips as he shut his eyelids.
>Guided tutorial will now commence…
The large, multicolored assortment of branches shivered and shot towards the wisp in the center of their formation. But, try as they might, they could not suppress the germinating surge of power that it emitted in waves as the black void shook accordingly.
Changes took place as the wisp changed underneath the shelter of the struggling branches. Twigs pierced into the pearlescent wisp to no avail, and the clear-looking Magpie emerged from it in response to the attempts at suppression from the Rami.
It guided the twigs to encase the wisp, forming a nest that seemed to resemble a chrysalis. Then, from the pearlescent wisp, a figure emerged, the same in color but a direct copy of Vere's image. His demeanor, his posture, his everything.
Because it was Vere. As he opened his eyes, the Rami shivered and separated, and powerful energy surged through the previously almost empty abyss. The void stayed black, but some shadows seemed to move backward as some details formed.
No, they didn't form but appeared! As if they were always there in the first place, and the whole area had simply been oblivious to their existence!
It wouldn't be the first time.
These words drifted into Vere's ears as he looked around the place. It also seemed to be a replica of his voice, the admittedly mellifluous deepness a direct copy of how he spoke. The only thing that seemed odd was the intonation…
It still had that air of dry humor—yet it seemed a lot more sinister. Dangerous, refined, honed like a pointed edge. It was as if it was a cloaked dagger that was meant to ignore its case, a smiling snake that was merely pretending not to bare its teeth.
It was a voice that was ready to strike at any moment.
Vere couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu and instead viewed his surroundings. If the words the SAD was transmitting words into existence were to be believed, this was the inside of a dimension that existed within everyone.
This particular dimension was his—it belonged to him and WAS him, in a way. With that information, he felt like the dancing shadows that obscured everything were more like a faint taunt than anything else.
A familiar hostility seemed to want to blacken the transparent figure. Black strands of thought power radiated from the Inquisitor Rami and seemed to surge towards the pointed feeling—forming a membrane that seemed to absorb it.
Gradually.
It wasn't absorbing it fast enough for Vere to see a change anytime soon.
Although Vere's color palette had been drastically reduced to only pearl, there was a distinctive difference. A pair of Roman numerals on the side of his neck read "II."
On each Rami, there was also a Roman numeral. The base of each one read "I," showcasing their current Insight Level.
The rich colors seeping from the Rami wanted to envelop Vere, but they couldn't. They were too weak—repressed and restrained. They could only slightly glow and sway as their strange, gnarly branches struggled to grow.
Aside from that, a conspiracy board was hanging in the formless darkness. It indeed had the same appearance as the one in Ragtime Paradise, and Vere felt complete control over it. It was as if it was part of his body—which it technically was.
It seemed to want to communicate as it radiated a subtle sphere of yellow-red light. Vere read the thought loud and clear; it reflected something resting in his subconscious.
The desire to improve. It wanted to be upgraded…Vere decided that it would be. But not today—not yet. He needed to have a grasp of what he was doing first.
A confession booth that was black and gold in color stood alone beneath a suspiciously lavender-tinted bell-shaped shadow. They wanted to get in on the improving action as well, seemingly more desperate. But, although Vere knew he had an affinity with them, they seemed a bit more distant than the conspiracy board.
A dark blue barstool stood alone and adrift. There seemed to be the faint evocation of coin shapes shadows surrounding it as it drifted about in the void. That belonged to the Mystic Rami; it was pretty obvious.
So…what was the old-style television screen supposed to be? There was nothing but static on its screen, and the antennae had the unfortunate status of being relegated to the Magpie's nest. As Vere aimed to touch it, the Magpie suddenly went crazy, making all sorts of garbled avian noises as it flapped its wings in a berserk manner.
The static of the screen shifted, most of it reverting to black. A white, humanoid silhouette stood before another with a camera, and giggling noises resounded through the whole space.
The Magpie squawked again, quickly batting a wing over the antennae and shifting the screen back into static.
Vere was quite amused at the set of antics. As he reached for the antennae again, the Magpie cocked its head with a look that seemed to express, "Don't even think about it."
Thankfully, that was not exactly what it was saying. Instead, words flowed around its edges in an outline, the contents of which were simply the words "don't touch" over and over without regard for space.
Lastly, the Evidence he collected was still there at the ready. They each emitted subtle light that was outclassed by the Rami and thick miasma pervading the thought nexus and seemed to visibly shiver in fear.
They could feel that Vere didn't seem to have any real attachment to them. Evidence was like that—it had sapience, if not outright sentience. They were "intelligent" enough to pick up on Vere's emotions since they were within his thought nexus and seemed to subtly present themselves in an attempt to garner affection.
Vere…his eyelids twitched as he witnessed this. He never thought inanimate objects would start flirting with him…
His legs glided over to the center of the Rami as his figure melded within the depths of the appearing wisp. He was not dealing with this today, nah.
Let it be known that Vere Blanchett experienced his first pure "NOPE" moment at this very instance. What a sign for things to come…