Irina sang softly, her voice sorrowful and distant. In her hand, she held her Sealed Artifact, a brush she moved up and down in slow, deliberate strokes over Old Neil's blood-soaked hair. His head rested against her knee, blood staining everything—the carpet, her clothes, even her face.
Her lips, cracked and dry, curved in a sad, empty smile. Her eyes, hollow and unfocused, stared into the distance as the dark liquid continued to flow from them, staining everything in its path.
Klein stared at the scene before him with pure horrible disbelief. "Irina..."
As if she could hear him, her voice became fainter and her movements halted. The piano's melody seemed to pick up, engulfing everything in its eerie tunes.
Just then, Klein felt something illusory shatter before his eyes.
Was the captain pulling us into a dream just now? But who—what blocked it... He focused on the scene before him and spotted something he had completely overlooked earlier. On Old Neil's forehead and cheeks, four illusory cold-looking lashless eyes flashed with a dark glow and locked onto Dunn.
The sticky blood that covered the ceiling, floor, and walls started squirming, like a giant opening its mouth to swallow Klein and company. Old Neil's body grew blurry like overlapping afterimages.
Klein didn't fumble for his revolver, instead, he extended his hand into his pocket and planned to use his Slumber Charm.
Suddenly, everything calmed down before him. The sticky, bloody liquid suddenly turned placid like a still lake.
Those four eyes lost their coldness, hatred, desire, and all other expressions. They became quiet and peaceful before closing, seemingly having lost the desire to keep themselves open. But they did not disappear.
Dunn, Klein, and Royale drew their guns at the same time and aimed at Old Neil's head.
It was unknown when Dunn had thrown Sealed Artifact 3-0611 into the blood. Any living creature that comes into contact with the Peaceful Hair Strands will turn peaceful and lose all motivation until the end of their life.
Irina's voice became louder and her hand started brushing Old Neil's hair again. The mysterious four eyes began, against all odds, to slowly fade away from existence.
How, just how... Klein's hold on the revolver wavered. "Captain. They're disappearing..."
Dunn's gaze was intense, skeptical, not daring to move away from the incredulous scene before him, "She seems to be keeping it under control, somehow."
The seer activated his spirit vision, his eyes flickering briefly. "Her spirituality is at zero. Her physical energy is nearing its end as well."
The captain observed in silence, as though entranced. "Perform a ritual and try to dispel it."
Klein holstered his gun and set to work. All the Nighthawks could see the pair of illusory eyes looming behind Irina and Old Neil suddenly twisting, glaring at the Seer with hostility. Royale began chanting a poem to assist him, and soon Dunn joined in.
As soon as Klein finished, he felt drained, as if all energy had been forcibly sucked from him. His eyes immediately turned to Irina and he realized that not only had those illusory eyes disappeared, but she had also stopped singing and so had the piano.
Why... why is she still brushing his hair? "Captain, what now?" Royale asked, her voice unsteady. She had long since lowered her revolver and didn't seem keen on raising it again.
Maybe I can... "Let me try to divine if there's any danger to interrupt her." Klein's gaze turned to the side to look at the Captain, only to realize he was still staring at the scene.
Unbeknownst to the others, Dunn Smith couldn't shake the memory of his first encounter with Irina, when something eerily similar had occurred—she had attacked him and Leonard that very same night. "Go ahead," he said.
Klein formulated his divination, tossed a brass coin, and watched it spin in the air. When it landed, the portrait faced up. Positive.
"It's safe for us to interrupt her." He confirmed.
Dunn nodded, then addressed Royale, "Go and try to wake her up but do not touch that Sealed Artefact."
The sleepless stepped forward, her boots squelching on the blood-soaked carpet. She crouched and gently placed a hand on Irina's shoulder. "Irina."
Royale's voice didn't seem to reach her, who instead began brushing her own hair. The sleepless hesitated, uncertainty clouding her expression. Tightening her grip on her shoulder, she urged, "Irina, you have to come back."
But again no response came. She tried some more but Irina's actions remained unchanged. Frustrated, Royale turned to the Captain, only to see him kneel down and take Sealed Artifact 3-0611 into his hand. He glanced at Klein, and with a single look, the Seer understood his intent.
Klein flipped the coin once more. This time, heads. He nodded, meeting Dunn's gaze. "The outcome will be favorable."
The Captain stepped forward as Royale retreated. He carefully guided the strand of hair to touch Irina's hand. Her vacant gaze shifted, becoming calm rather than distant. Moments later, Dunn discarded the artifact, watching as a glimmer of awareness slowly returned to her eyes.
"Irina," he called.
She blinked, turning her head slightly toward his voice. Her eyes found his, and a faint smile tugged at her lips. "Oh... hi cap... hmm..."
"I'm... kinda tired..."
And just like that, the weight of her exhaustion finally overwhelmed her, and she collapsed to the side, unconscious.
Irina tossed and turned in bed, discomfort clear in every movement. It felt as though someone was relentlessly hammering her head.
"Ugh... My head... Just what happened..." She groaned, memories slowly trickling back. With frustration mounting, she pushed the blanket aside and began massaging her temples.
As she did, something cold brushed against her cheek. She grabbed it—her pocket mirror. "Why... Is this here?"
And not in my pocket as usual...
Sitting up slowly, she placed the mirror on her pillow, her hands continuing to knead her brows in displeasure.
My spirituality isn't fully recovered like usual, just why...
Her hand froze as she suddenly realized she was still wearing outer clothes. "..."
"Wait."
Opening her eyes, she took in the unfamiliar, cold surroundings. The room was scarcely decorated; just a bed, a small table beside it with a glass of water
Shit. I think I know where I am.
rina concentrated on her environment and the oppressive feeling sank in. Her Beyonder abilities were being forcefully suppressed, and even her protection offered no relief.
No good, no good. I'm behind Chanis Gate.
Just as she was going to try and activate her spirit vision, the door opened revealing two figures.
Double shit. That man is—
"It's good to see that you're awake. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Crestet Cesimir, one of the nine high-ranking deacons."
The Goddess' Sword.
"Hello, Your Grace." Irina stood up and bowed politely, trying to ignore her fatigue.
Her gaze landed on Dunn Smith, standing silently behind him, wearing a complicated expression.
"Do you remember what happened?" The Deacon asked her the moment her eyes left him. He slowly lowered his silver suitcase to the ground, not making a sound.
Ah... How could I not...
"Yes." Her reply was short but confident. "How is Old Neil?"
"That is not important right now. Explain how that whole incident played out."
Irina quickly understood that there was no room for argument. They viewed her with suspicion, perhaps as a potential threat or a traitor.
I can understand where they're coming from, she thought bitterly. They came expecting to find Neil having lost control, only to find me instead—bloodstained, wielding a Sealed Artifact that supposedly holds no real power.
"Well?" Crestet's voice was sharp, cutting through her thoughts.
She glanced at him, noticing the change. His eyes, once a vivid green, were now a pitch-black void, devoid of their usual gleam.
"For a while now—actually no. Since the beginning, there has always been something strange with Old Neil. From time to time, behind him, I would see a pair of illusory black eyes."
Dunn's voice interrupted her, stern and unwavering. "Why didn't you report it to me?"
"Well, it was only in the last period that I slowly began to worry," Irina admitted, her voice lowering. "I had a suspicion but didn't dare act on it—up until I did. A week or two ago, I confronted him, but for some reason, emotions got the better of me and I got angry instead. He kept denying vehemently and it felt like, no matter what I said or thought, I was always in the wrong."
Crestet's gaze didn't soften as he continued his interrogation. "On the day before the incident, you took a day off. Was it connected?"
"Yes and no," she responded, choosing her words carefully. "It had been a while since I last saw those eyes. But on Sunday, not only did they appear, but Old Neil also looked incredibly pale. Only when I finally got home and thought about it deeply did I realize something was deeply wrong. I-I planned on informing you Captain but I decided to take a day off to gather my thoughts."
Dunn's tone was matter-of-fact as he added, "On Tuesday, you had an argument with him. Everyone knows you screamed at him."
That day...
"Yes," she said quietly. "I saw those eyes again, and it made me so angry I just stormed out. I still don't know what came over me. Later that day, I went to visit him to both apologize and get some answers. But..." her voice trailed off, the weight of regret settling in.
The carpet, walls, even ceilings. Everything was just... Red.
Irina's face contorted at the memory, remembering the gruesome scene. "It was late, the moon had already risen. I didn't even knock because my Spirituality flared up. The door was closed so I rushed behind the house to search for a window and entered through there."
She took a break to gather her thoughts. "Normally, when I would catch sight of those illusory eyes, they would disappear, but... that time they didn't. The room was covered in blood but Neil looked his usual self, albeit extremely pale and uncaring of his own health. I tried to throw some sense into him but he just wouldn't listen."
Irina's voice grew louder, her agitation clear as her gaze dropped to the floor. The scenes replayed in her mind over and over. "I-I panicked. He was losing so much blood, a-and he was spouting so much nonsense about reviving the dead—the Hidden Sage—some r-ritual and shit—I-I knocked him out... I didn't know what else to do!"
The Deacon tried to ask something, but Irina pressed on, her words tumbling out. "But I could just feel that it wasn't enough! Those eyes, they didn't disappear but focused on me instead, I immediately felt my protection activating but Old Neil didn't have any."
Her voice softened, trembling now. "I was horrified by the scene, I was petrified. I crumbled down and just stood there... but then, my body just moved on its own. It was a wild guess, but I didn't really know what else to do..."
"That's when you used that sealed artifact. What does it do?"
He really figured it all out already... Why are you treating me like such a violet criminal then?! I was just trying to help Old Neil!
Irina refused to look the Deacon in the eyes "It calms me," she admitted softly. "It's subtle, but it helps. I went to see him right after brushing my hair. I didn't feel completely at peace, but I felt more... like myself. I thought, 'If it works for me, maybe it could help him too.'"
Crestet's eyes didn't waver. "If you knew it had those effects, why didn't you report them to the church?"
I wasn't even sure about it myself!
"It's a recent development." Irina tried to defend herself, "I never gave it much thought. I figured it was just a placebo—"
"Lying won't get you anywhere," he interrupted, his tone stern. "It's clearly documented that the incident at the orphanotrophy was caused by your loss of control. Just like how you were found brushing your hair, which helped calm you down."
What?! No no! Irina's head snapped up, her eyes locking onto his sharp gaze "No—I Don't remember anything from that night—other than an endless void! When I came back to myself Leonard was in possession of the brush. Before that, I— The last thing I remember was going to sleep on that same night."
It was Dunn who asked the next question. "What after you used the sealed artifact? What did you do next? Why did you sing?"
What is he talking about?
Irina looked at him with utter confusion. "I sang?"
Dunn looked momentarily taken aback, but quickly composed himself. Just as he was about to speak, the Deacon cut in. "Tell me what happened from that moment up until now. When you woke up here."
Nothing much. Truly.
She didn't hesitate as she answered, "I started brushing his hair. I felt really tired—exhausted even. I kept thinking my spirituality was going to be entirely consumed, it felt as if it lasted for hours—days even. Then I saw Captain, and I... blacked out, I guess? I woke up not long ago. That's everything."
Crestet's eyes narrowed. "Did you interact with the mirror since you woke up?"
What does that have to do with anything?
She furrowed her brow,"Hum. When I moved in bed, it fell on the pillow so I moved it."
"Why?"
Huh? What kind of question is that?
She blinked, slightly confused, "...because it was touching my cheek, and it was cold. It was uncomfortable, so I moved it."
A heavy silence hung in the air as Irina's gaze flickered nervously between Dunn and Crestet. After a long moment, she broke it with a hesitant question, "So... how is Old Neil? Is he alright?"
Please... please tell me he's alright, I tried my very best.
Dunn's expression softened with sorrow. "He's alive."
Thank the Goddes—
But," Dunn continued, "he's in a deep state of sleep. We don't know when—or rather if—he'll ever wake up."
... what?
no...
Irina's legs suddenly felt weak, and without thinking, she sank back onto the bed. Staring down, she mumbled to herself, "But I thought..."
After all that work... I succeded in stopping Dunn from being affected by the Antigonus Notebook so why with Old Neil.... I tried my BEST to help him, and... it still wasn't enough?
After everything I did?
...it didn't work?
"One more question." Crestet's eyes remained black, but his gaze had softened, no longer as aggressive as before. In fact, had Irina paid attention, she might have even described them as almost 'normal,' when compared to earlier.
Perhaps he doesn't suspect anything anymore... Irina nodded weekly, "Of course, your Grace. Ask freely."
"What's your current Sequence?"