Draped in elegant attire, a man moved through the greyish white fog in a languid manner. In his right gloved hand was what seemed like a silver mirror with ancient patterns on the back and an eye-like engraving on each side at the front.
Behind him, a number of silhouettes. Under the candlelight and music, they all blurred and soon vanished into the fog.
The figure stopped and watched a strange door of light, above the greyish white cloud which seemed to beckon him. Klein stood motionless for a minute before moving his gaze elsewhere.
He observed the transparent cocoons hanging above the door of light. He looked at the "modern" humans with different skin colours inside the cocoons.
Closing his eyes to sense them, Klein raised his right hand and closed his five fingers.
The cocoons cracked open as the people inside transformed into specks of light. They flew out of Sefirah Castle and landed in the real world, into the bodies of those who had just died.
However, his eyes twitched slightly as he looked down, his gaze penetrating the Sefirah Castle's defences, and he observed a similar greyish white fog which seemed to have "Wandered" and adhered to some of the descending specks of lights before receding.
Klein's head tilted slightly as Arrodes moved to observe its master. After some time, Klein nodded, and looked at his humble and loyal servant.
...
After taking deep breaths, the man drank his brown jelly-like potion. Suddenly, deep ravings assaulted him, with his spirit body seemingly breaking free from his body. However, instead of hovering some distance away, it continued to move away, while the man felt the surroundings, his body, and consciousness growing faint. Incapable of doing anything, he could only despair as his strange condition worsened.
No!
His ethereal spirit body screamed, but it was quickly stifled, as the man's body—no corpse, fell back, hitting the stone floor with force. However, the impact didn't shatter the back of his skull, but his lifeless eyes, and gradually foaming mouth, told everything.
Suddenly, the man's eyes fluttered, and then blinked widely as he took a deep hasty breath, which was soon followed by a fit of cough. He instinctively bent to the side and coughed his excess saliva, continuing for a moment. Soon, however, he gritted his teeth as a piercing headache assaulted his senses, causing his eyes to turn bloodshot.
Wh-What is happen… Ning… His thoughts were incoherent, as he clutched his head, hoping the piercing whispers, shouts and screams could stop.
Cogitate!
A thought seemed to form in his fractured mind, and like a practice move, he instinctively gathered whatever was left of his sanity and imagined rays of lights, converging to a centre gradually forming a glistening ball of light. As he focused on this sphere, he could feel the random, incoherent, and unbearable ravings recede, while various words formed in his mind.
Briber… Sequence 7… Lawyer… pathway… Bribe…
He frowned as he wiped his drenched mouth and focused on the knowledge that was infiltrating his mind.
A sequence 7 Briber? That's what I am? Wait, none of this makes sense. Where's this!? I don't remember being here!?
His eyes hastily wandered to the surroundings, noticing various cupboards and bookshelves filled with dusty and mouldy books. Weathered stone walls, littered with a number of cobwebs, dotted the background of the cramped room. The man observed the table beside him, and he reflexively got up, almost stumbling as he observed the various lab-like components laid on it.
Most prominent was a sheet of paper, with various scribbles on its surface, and an empty wooden cup on the floor next to his feet. His eyes moved back to the paper with strange looking writings, which seemed to possess some indescribable attraction towards him, as he reached out with his hands and picked up the paper.
Highlander, the man instinctively noted as he read the contents.
"Sequence 7, Briber potion formula:
Main Ingredients: One "Cry Baby" flower and strange-faced cannabis crystals.
Supplementary ingredients: 5 drops of golden datura juice, 5 drops of black datura juice, 4 drops of psychedelic grass essential oil, 80 ml of red wine."
The man remained still like a statue, staring at the paper, rereading its contents over and over, before resigning and placing it back on the table.
This can't be for real. He tried to reject what his still somewhat fractured mind was piecing together, but the evidence was staring not only at his face, but was also pasted in his recovering memory.
I read this, but this doesn't make sense. I was simply chilling in my house, and then this!? He looked around once more, before moving his tongue in his mouth, finally noticing the bitter taste that laid in it. So, I drank the Briber potion, and died?
He still found the whole situation incredulous, but he knew rejecting his reality wasn't going to help him in any way.
I was a Barbarian… I think. Did I even fully digest my potion? Dammit, too many questions… Just focus on one thing after the other. He let out a breath, and entered Cogitation, further easing him. He then opened his eyes and reviewed his situation.
Okay, I don't remember much, but from what I can tell—he looked down at his small hands, calloused, and lightly tanned. He felt his somewhat smooth chin, then at his face, which he could feel was oval. While he didn't have a mirror nearby, he who had technically lived with this face could picture his feminine looking appearance, with dark ginger shoulder length in his mind.
He—Tabui Jacques was a young man, in his late 20s, living through life as a well educated, and respected senior lawyer in the Matani state in West Balam. While his appearance was distinct, he was still a man in his early prime years, enjoying a promising life, and had the chance of stumbling upon a ruby which felt quite attractive to him. After a certain amount of time and repeated visits to a wannabee seer, he nonchalantly consumed the ruby, which he now knew was a Lawyer Beyonder characteristic. Through sheer luck, he became a Beyonder.
… Did I actually consume a Beyonder characteristic raw!? Jacques's bow-shaped lips twitched before he settled and analysed his situation directly after this incident. Following his advancement, he blazed through his career path with incredible momentum, earning the praises of many and forming unique connections. He even got the opportunity to travel abroad, but he would always come back to this lovable home-state of his. However, in one of these travels, he discovered the true nature of his situation, recognising he was now a Beyonder.
Through shady deals, and even some backstabbing, he became a sequence 8 Barbarian after 4 years of being a Lawyer.
I recall the advancement sucked ass. I didn't know the acting method at all, which was reflected in the fact that even after 3 years of being a Barbarian, I didn't fully digest my potion. Unfortunately, or fortunately, with the war which has concluded over a year ago now, I obtained the Briber potion formula and ingredients from those Intisian bastards… Wait, war?
Jacques's mind filtered through his memories, recognising that today was the 25th of October 1352. His brows furrowed as he pondered. Klein should be slumbering, right? Dammit, my potion doesn't grant any Mental—I mean Intelligence buffs… Well, I do have the mental resistance of a Barbarian; I guess.
He did admit that in terms of physical and mental functionality, not counting his current state, he was at a peak his previous life could never achieve. Apart from that, as a Lawyer, his grey eyes could see through and use loopholes in rules and the weaknesses of the law, people, among other things. That wasn't even counting his incredible physical abilities as a Barbarian, and the conceptual abilities of a Briber.
No, dammit, focus on one thing at a time! He inwardly reprimanded himself before thinking. How? I shouldn't be part of this Earth. My Earth is different, and the world was merely a book… Parallel worlds? But then that brings even more confusion! For example, why me? Am I the only one? My resurrection seemed to have coincided with Klein's slumber…
Based on the date, I might've been from the batch of released souls from… The Gray Fog. Again, am I the only one? What happened to me in my original world? Did I die there? Did I replace the one who corresponds to me here, or some other rando?
Dammit… So many questions, but no answers… He lamented to himself, and stayed standing for some time. Jacques looked at his crisp dark shirt, pants, matching polished shoes, and then brushed back some of his ginger hair strands on his face. His elevated senses picked up the dampness of the room, remembering that this was the basement of a simple, abandoned warehouse. Jacques had wanted to advance in a secluded spot.
He let out a sigh, and took a seat, but then flinched, feeling the chair subtly crack, and bend to the side.
Well, damn. He shook his head, and then reflexively moved to lean on the desk, but then paused, noticing its dusty surface.
Dammit, I made my potion in this environment? How unserious I am. He clicked his tongue but then froze, realising that the chair he was seated on was equally dirty. Jacques let out another sigh, and soon his eyes pricked as he felt a faint burning sensation on the back of his left hand.
He turned it around, but didn't see anything, making him frown, but then he recalled something, and clicked his molars, activating his spirit vision. While his past self wasn't well educated in terms of mysticism, he wasn't so clueless anymore.
Before his eyes, buried in the back of his hand, were seven dark dots, arranged in a heptagonal fashion. The dots turned deeper, almost tangible, and then shone, causing him to reflexively lurch back. However, he froze in place.
...
Away from his basement, deeper into the lively port Pylos, and far from its bustle, was a quaint shop. A mature woman with a stern expression, donning thick eyeglasses with average looks and attire observed the three dots in her hand lightening up.
In another distant place, a curly brown-haired woman, dressed in a slightly torn attire, observed in bewilderment at her hand resting on the ground, illuminating her bloodied face with black colours, and causing her to freeze in place. In a similar fashion, a naked black-haired woman examined every inch of her reflection on a large ornate mirror in awe, fascination, and extreme excitement. However, her long, smooth brows twitched as the back of her hand showed three dots.
A number of similar scenes occurred all at once, in various locations throughout the Northern and Southern Continents.
Soon, Jacques opened his eyes, and was immediately greeted by a greyish white fog, which gradually receded, revealing several bewildered and shocked people. At a glance, he deduced most of them as being middle-aged and spectral in appearance, wearing all sorts of clothing. They all wore the look of shock and weariness to their surroundings, which continued to retract, soon revealing a large, weathered and ancient round table with corresponding seatings at the centre of the room they were in. The hall's background was lined with the fog, with some windows, revealing a blurred view of a forest outside.
"... W-What. The fuck!?" Jacques reflexively cursed in English and immediately regretted it as most of the strangers in the room turned their head towards him and observed. Some with interest, others with shock, and a small number with…
Relief? He immediately entered Cogitation and calmed his nerves, recognizing the looks of hope some were starting to gain. Though he wasn't a Spectator, as a senior Lawyer, one good at finding minute loopholes in rules, regulations, and people, he noticed this fact.
"... English?" A man with a stern demeanour and typical Feynapotterian physical characteristic tentatively said from Jacques side, causing the latter to observe him. The man's eyes had a certain suppressive force which felt familiar to Jacques.
An Arbiter? Jacques simply nodded, and from the corner of his eyes, he could spot more and more people growing relieved, with some sporting excited expressions. However, none of them made any other moves.
Hey, why so serious? Shouldn't there be more panic due to suddenly appearing here? Or are you all experts? … Or did some of them make us appear here? Jacques silently lampooned in his mind, while a man with tanned skin and flamboyant clothing sauntered through the room, with many moving out of his way as he soon stood before the tall, single door of the room. He reached out with his hand and grabbed the doorknob, pulling and twisting it, but to no avail. Under the bewildered looks of many, the man, after some reflection, fluidly moved his hands along the knob, but the door still didn't bulge.
"Hahaha! It's locked!? It's actually locked! We got kidnapped and thrown into someone's basement!" His carefree laugh and exclamation made most feel uncomfortable, while some looked at him in a curious manner.
"Nothing, here," a rather short man with green eyes, and black hair, wearing a typical formal suit and leaning by the window, said, after glancing through it. His now sparkling eyes couldn't see through the grey fog at all.
It had to be said that they all spoke in English, making Jacques, who was silently appraising them, confirm one thing: I'm really not alone… What a relief.
He let out a sigh, and moved forward, reaching the centre of the round table, an action which attracted most of the people's gazes. As a man of the people, he easily withstood the pressure and stood straight while observing them with a smile.
"Well, I spoke first, and I believe it makes sense for me to continue." He didn't wait for the man by the door who seemed to want to object as he said in a deep tone, "What… What do you guys think of a Cuttlefish who loves diving?"
His words caused everyone, including the flamboyant man by the door and the one by the window, to freeze, before narrowing their eyes. Others looked shocked, but understanding donned their faces, while a number started speaking in various languages.
"So I really transmigrated…
"Is it a case of Parallel world? Those crazy theorists were actually on to something…
"Wait, does that mean I've a chance to smell Fors's armpits?
"I can be a demigod. Do I actually have a chance?
"So, Steam is out here… How can you be a Paragon and still be trash?
"Hey, don't diss my man steam like that. He's jacked as hell.
"Also, Roselle, I've to confirm your refined taste."
The last comment made most pause and observe a black-haired middle-aged man wearing golden ornaments, and sporting an approachable demeanour. Within the group—a woman wearing a long layered dress, and was both distracted by her appearance and the shocking experience, making her slightly retreat into a corner after hearing this.
Apart from these random comments, some wore complicated and contemplative expressions, though they were mostly overshadowed by the excited voices.
Jacques simply stifled a laugh at the random statements he understood; while some were in other languages, which he assumed were Japanese, some Arabic, and Spanish.
The room instantly bustled with noise but the man who had first responded to Jacques took a step forward, and said in a deep, authoritative tone, "I believe there should be order in this room."
His voice seemed to vibrate with the room's thick walls, causing most to stop talking, with the man in flamboyant clothing by the door receding a little, while still wearing a smirk. Noticing they had complied, he smiled and said, "Well, there's no need to be rash. After all, it seems like we're all in the same boat."
This caused vigorous nods from the group as the man turned to Jacques, saying, "Tyr. Nice to meet you."
Jacques nodded and was about to shake hands but refrained from doing so as he spoke with a smile. "Jacques."
Their interaction made some look at them suspiciously, while the man, featuring a number of golden ornaments and an approachable demeanour, silently chuckled. They don't look like they know each other… And that Tyr seems to be an Arbiter, at least based on his authoritative effect. Logi, as usual, did a simple body language analysis, as he observed the man named Jacques take the floor.
"Today is the 25th of October, 1352, and we—or at least I transmigrated earlier today." His gaze swept the group of men and a few women, while saying, "I'm sure you all know what it means."
I've no idea what you're talking about. A bearded, tall man with languid eyes and reddish brown hair, wearing sailor clothing reflexively thought. On the other hand, most standing in the room nodded, understanding what had been hinted at.
The time approximately coincided with the time of The Fool's slumber, and the subsequent release of the "transmigrators." While they all couldn't be certain that they were part of the cocoon gang, they could at least deduce that they likely all possessed some relations to the Fool, just based on the timing.
In this world, such coincidences should always be observed with scrutiny!
Well, I don't seem to remember who these coincidences corresponded to… Apart from that damn Quill, of course. A good-looking woman with a ponytail, donning a complete male attire featuring a black cravat and coat, reflected while examining the fog surrounding the walls and lying beyond the windows. Strange, mysterious symbols soon formed in her eyes, rotating and arranging in various formations while she remained still. Curiously, however, most beside her did notice her anomaly, with only a few discerning eyes observing her for just a moment.
Following her analysis, she closed her eyes and let out a sigh. Today is quite hectic, isn't it? I appear in this body, and now this?
She shook her head and looked back at the ongoing gathering, which at a glance she numbered as nineteen. Noticing the silence, begin to envelop the group. She took a step forward in a slightly awkward way, and then spoke. "I don't know about you guys, but I for sure know this world is terrible."
The group instantly focused on her and nodded, giving her more confidence as she continued in an eloquent manner. "While we're all strangers, there are many things that tie us together, in a way that not even the 'Gods' can fully comprehend."
Wouldn't bet on that, Logi thought while wearing a neutral expression and observing both the flamboyant man who was tapping his foot on the ground while still being by the door's side and the current speaker, who turned to Jacques, and with a nod, added. "I'm Laverna, by the way."
Jacques nodded and looked at the group. "What she said. Though, of course, I'm sure some of you are getting impatient." As he spoke, he tilted his head to the side, without looking back at the floor tapping, which had grown louder. The flamboyant man seemed to notice and grinned while observing the crowd. "Just a silly habit of mine. Please continue."
Jacques nodded, but then heard the man say, "Also, since we're all friends now, I'm Charles. Nice to meet all of you!"
What's with this guy!? Some around Charles reflexively turned to look elsewhere, while Logi's gaze remained on him.
Jacques cleared his throat, then said, "Not long before we were… Transported here. The back of my hand showed seven dots arranged in a heptagon." As he spoke, he raised his left hand, which currently didn't feature any dots.
Before Charles could complain, Jacques turned around and showed him his arm.
His earlier words caused Tyr beside him, Laverna, and four other people to look at him. They all noticed their reaction and attentive looks, causing them to give each other an understanding nod. Laverna then said, "It seems we six also had that arrangement. With you, it makes seven."
Actually, I also had the seven dots, Logi thought, but he didn't voice this, as his spiritual intuition, which wasn't that elevated, advised him not to. He turned to observe the seven, and said, "It seems even amongst us there are special ones. We regular folks didn't have as many.
His keen senses picked up some of his fellow "Transmigrators," muttering under their breath that they had three dots instead.
Logi then continued with a smile, saying, "It seems the hierarchy is already decided then."
The man, one of the seven, also leaning on the wall close to the round table, donning a formal suit with a black vest, moved forward and said, "I had a strange desire to be taken away when the light appeared. Was it the same for you guys?"
The Six others nodded while he examined the back of his hand, and after a moment, the seven dots shone once more. The rest understood what he had done, as they soon activated their marks. Simultaneously, the grey fog moved, enveloping everyone in the room, bar the bearers of the pentagrams, who all reflectively observed each other.
"... I feel like if we all agree, we can get out of here," another one of the seven spoke. He was a middle-aged man with red eyes, his slight pointy canines, and tanned skin with a very thin frame made most discern his origins. He looked around and then added, "Lenor, by the way."
They nodded, and all retracted their hands, the marks receding alongside the grey fog.
Weird, we seemed quite coordinated. Jacques thought as he observed the group, which had all slightly moved away from the walls coming closer to the table. He then smiled, gesturing at it. "Well, let's not stand on ceremony. Shall we?"
At the request, the group all moved, and took seats along the round table, with Charles skipping to the head of the table and taking a seat, while wearing an excited smile. Most members turned to their chairs, which remained unchanged, causing them to sigh in disappointment.
After they all settled, Tyr said in an indescribable tone, "We all clearly have thousands of questions, but as Laverna previously said, it's best if we can unite somewhat."
He then glanced around and continued. "First things first, is anyone currently in a tight situation that needs immediate attention?" This was a reasonable question, since they were, after all, in their astral projection while their bodies seemed to have remained.
"I just got out of some sewers."
"Humph, try rising from the grave."
"... And I thought waking up in a charred body was hardcore."
The members turned to observe Logi, who made the last statement with their eyes saying, "You again!? Why are all the random comments!?
A curly brown-haired woman with slightly torn clothes shook her head saying, "My situation is okay… I guess."
Tyr nodded and continued. "For better or for worse, we're connected in a very special way, and also have access to this unknown realm, while being even bigger oddities than the other 'transmigrators'…"
He cracked a smile before saying, "Well, since none of us didn't immediately turn into a giant mesh of distorted organs, I say we've quite the advantage."
But why didn't we turn into that? From what I recall of the story, there are certain things that we should know, which are extremely dangerous… While these were Jacques's thoughts, it equally resonated with all nineteen of them.
"There was that saying," one of the members said, while wearing a pondering expression.
"There are some things that make it easier to be 'infected' the more you know," the mature woman, who looked like she was in her 40s, wearing thick eyeglasses, said in a nonchalant tone. Jacques recalled her as the one who had insinuated that the God of Steam and Machinery was a fraud.
"But why don't we recall is the question," Logi said, and then added. "Of course, we could just assume it's our very own 'transmigrator perk' and live with that."
"I for one, am glad for it."
"Say that louder for the crowd," a beautiful voice said, which caused a tall man near her who had been sneaking glances at her and had previously spoken, added in a louder tone. "I for one, am glad for it!"
Instigator? Most of the group simply examined the charming woman in her layered dress, as she leaned forward on her hand, saying, "You can all call me Rosetta, by the way."
Demoness! This word rang in all their minds, however, some like Logi simply smirked having realised this fact earlier as he observed Rosetta, who was at first mostly focused on checking herself out.
At the head of the table, Charles tried to control himself, to no avail, and finally exclaimed, while looking at Rosetta. "Damn! Girl, you thicker than a bowl of oatmeal! Wait, I guess guy… Wait, you're a girl now…"
He then paused, observing everyone's side eye and muttered under his breath. "Oh, yeah! I was supposed to say this in my mind." Charles then went silent, occasionally changing facial expressions, as most ignored him.
… I like how you manage to not only objectify her but also confuse yourself. Bravo. Logi inwardly praised, before he continued. Of course, I too must know if Roselle was lying or not. His eyes moved to the mature woman with tight dark bun and hazel eyes who he had corrected for mocking the God of Steam and Machinery. The woman in question coughed lightly after composing herself, saying, "Tempest is my name. Also, we don't have all day so…"
"How about we give a name to this… Club or organisation of ours?"