The Human, The Fool, The Magician.
Unfortunately, I broke my streak of posted chapters. I apologize for that.
I was traveling from the 3rd to the 10th. I only managed to come back in time to see my mother for Mother’s Day. I still have to make another trip because of work, to check on some company-related stuff in another state.
Anyway, sorry for the delay. Here’s the chapter. I’ll be able to return to writing normally on the 16th, when I officially come back from traveling. But I’ll see if I can post another chapter before then, since I finally had some peaceful time here.
(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori.
Good night, everyone, and enjoy the reading!
[...]---[...]
Fors blinked repeatedly, confusion written all over her pale face. Her light blue eyes trembled faintly.
They were apologizing to me? Both of 'Them'? At the same time… Why?
Her lips parted slightly, forming a question she didn’t dare voice, and she remained in absolute silence.
The Fool Klein and The Human exchanged a long look. Behind the dense gray fog, Klein felt The Human’s inhuman, heterochromatic eyes fixed on him.
The Human slightly lifted his chin, then gave a small nod toward Fors—a casual, universal gesture that clearly said: “You explain. I wasn’t even supposed to be here if not for your fault.”
Klein grumbled inwardly. It was impressive how, with so few gestures and having known each other for such a short time, they seemed to understand one another so well.
Of course he’d do that. Honestly, I should’ve expected it, Klein complained in his thoughts, already recognizing exactly what kind of person Devas was. Someone very much like himself: an efficient slacker.
The type who, if he has to do something, will do it in the fastest and most effective way possible just to get it over with; he doesn’t run from responsibility, but if he can delegate the annoying part to someone else, he’ll do it instantly.
Adjusting his posture to appear even more inscrutable, The Fool Klein cleared his throat softly, the sound swallowed by the vast gray fog.
“The high probability of the moon’s abrupt phase change and the sudden appearance of the Blood Moon are due to us,” Klein explained, his voice monotone and mysterious. “It was an unfortunate and unforeseen event resulting from the moment I summoned him into this world.”
He did not elaborate—allowing Fors’s imagination to fill in the gaps with the appropriate reverent terror.
“I am someone who values fair and equal exchanges,” The Fool continued. “Since I have caused you harm, even indirectly, I owe you a favor.” He paused, shifting his gaze to the other end of the table. “However, I cannot speak for The Human.”
Klein gestured toward Devas. Fors, driven by pure self-preservation and intimidation, opened her mouth, ready to immediately refuse any favor from beings so terrifying.
Sensing this, The Human interrupted her before the first syllable could escape.
“Don’t refuse,” The Human advised. His hoarse voice was still gentle whenever he spoke to Fors. “It may be very useful to you in the future, if you don’t wish to claim it now.” Following Klein’s lead, he added, “I owe you something as well. From what I noticed while helping you, the moon’s fury was directed at my presence here.”
He let out a scoffing sound, a guttural and disdainful mockery aimed at the moon outside, before leaning back in his chair and falling silent once more.
Fors’s mind turned into a hurricane.
The Fool brought The Human from another world?!
The colossal misunderstanding regarding the level of power possessed by the owner of that space rooted itself even deeper within her. And now… she had the favor of two gods to claim? Fors’s fertile mind—a single woman and writer with a vivid imagination—began running wild.
Absurd ideas and scenarios bordering on the inappropriate—and rather spicy—flashed through her thoughts in fractions of a second.
Her eyes widened as she viciously reprimanded herself, her face burning with shame.
No, bad Fors! They’re gods! Devas knew my name! 'He'—both of 'Them'—can probably read minds!
Panic struck her, making her blush all the way to the tips of her ears, a sensation that only worsened when she noticed The Human’s orange, sunlike eye staring at her with undisguised amusement.
“I-I…” she stammered, desperately changing the subject to push away the thoughts that existed only in her head. “If… if I may use that favor, could one of you help me with the deliriums I hear every full moon?”
The Human hummed thoughtfully.
The low sound echoed, partially distorting the surrounding space with a bizarre fluctuation of pure madness intertwined with humanity before stabilizing. He slowly shook his head in refusal.
“If I were truly present here with my real body, I could help you,” he explained pragmatically. “But since I am merely a Shadow at the moment, and the rules and laws of this world are still somewhat confusing to me, it will not be possible.” He looked at her seriously, concluding, “Not without risking your mental integrity—potentially driving you into madness or something worse by accident. And that is not something I wish to do.”
Fors paled considerably and shook her head quickly and frantically, denying any intention of taking such a risk.
Seizing the opportunity, The Fool Klein took the lead.
“I can help you,” he said calmly. “I can summon you here every full moon. Here, under my protection and isolated within my domain, you will be safe and far from the horrors.” He added benevolently, “You may remain until dawn breaks, before awakening safely in your own body.”
Fors didn’t hesitate. “I accept! Thank you very much, Mr. Fool!” she agreed at once, deep relief finally soothing the tremors in her body.
Hearing her swift and fervent response, Klein let out a long, imperceptible sigh in his mind.
Thank goodness she accepted. I won’t have to worry about this in the future, he thought, genuinely feeling more at ease.
It was excellent to have already repaid that favor in such a simple and straightforward way.
Given the hyperactive imagination most people in this world seemed to possess—judging by Klein’s experiences with others—if Fors had saved that “favor from a god” for later, she might have ended up asking for something utterly absurd that he, a mere Sequence Nine pretending to be a deity, could never fulfill.
He wasn’t worried about failing to pull Fors above the gray fog, since she had come through an orange “star” rather than a crimson one.
Because the moment she entered that realm, Klein felt a similar connection form—the same one that existed with the other members of the Tarot Club.
Moreover, Klein’s heart felt noticeably lighter.
He truly did feel somewhat guilty for nearly causing the death of an innocent due to the lunar anomaly triggered by The Human’s summoning.
Klein also made a mental note to pay attention next time he summoned The Human, in case something similar might occur again.
It was then that Klein noticed a technical—and very welcome—detail: his spirituality was not draining as quickly as usual.
In fact, the mental and spiritual burden of remaining conscious and maintaining the illusion of the space above the gray fog seemed to have decreased drastically. He realized that the accidental connection he had forged with the [Pocket Trump Card] in the real world was acting like a strange anchor or battery, stabilizing his presence there.
Taking advantage of the sudden calm, the absence of a headache, and the fact that two extraordinarily peculiar individuals were seated at his table, The Fool Klein decided it was the perfect time to expand his business.
He leaned back further in his high-backed chair, crossing his hands over the bronze table with the air of someone who commanded the universe.
“Since we are all here,” Klein’s monotone and inscrutable voice echoed through the ancient hall, immediately drawing Fors’s attention and The Human’s curious heterochromatic gaze, “would you care to join a small gathering I organize from time to time?”
Fors blinked, now calmer and realizing these two mysterious ‘gods’ were not malevolent, feeling far more at ease speaking. “A gathering… of gods?” she asked, her voice faltering slightly.
“A gathering for exchanges,” Klein corrected calmly, maintaining his aura of mystery. “A meeting where knowledge, formulas, ingredients, and occult information are shared. There are no beings like me besides The Human; the others are ordinary people. I call it the Tarot Club.”
As Fors’s mind struggled to process the fact that she was being invited into a secret society led by existences who mocked the laws of reality, Klein continued his explanation.
“The members of this club use codenames based on the Major Arcana cards of the Tarot to keep their true identities secret,” he explained. “Currently, some cards are already taken, such as Justice and The Hanged Man.”
He then turned his fog-shrouded face toward the shadowy figure before him.
“Originally,” Klein lied with the smoothness of a true charlatan, his voice not wavering in the slightest, “my intention was to invite only you, Devas. A formal invitation to cross worlds and join our table.”
A lie. I pressed the wrong button and summoned you by accident—but I’m definitely going to use this chance to look like some kind of mystical strategist.
And having this terrifying juggernaut as a member of Mr. Fool’s Tarot Club will clearly give me far more credibility!
Then The Fool’s gaze fell upon the woman seated to Devas’s right.
“However,” Klein added, his tone taking on a sublime air, “fate is a river with unpredictable currents. Since the gears of destiny seemed intent on pulling you into this domain today, Fors Wall, you too have earned the right to an invitation.”
Fors held her breath. The weight of the word “fate” coming from Mr. Fool’s mouth made her feel as though her entire life had been rewritten in those brief minutes.
With a slight, almost imperceptible wave of his hand, The Fool Klein stirred the spirituality of the space above the gray fog and condensed the fog into tangible forms.
Upon the long bronze table, twenty-two Tarot cards materialized out of thin air.
However, before they even touched the surface, some vanished—the Justice, the Hanged Man, and the Fool were not among them.
The remaining nineteen cards landed with a soft whisper of paper, face down.
The back of each displayed a complex, intricate pattern of silver lines over a dark background resembling a star-strewn night sky, bearing the same pupil-less eye symbol that adorned the back of Klein’s chair.
“Do you accept joining us, Fors Wall?” Klein’s flat voice echoed.
Fors, still processing the fact that refusing would likely mean offending beings beyond human comprehension, nodded frantically. “Yes! I—I accept, Mr. Fool.”
The Human observed the exchange in absolute silence. His orange eye and abyssal red eye lingered on the cards for a moment.
Then he lifted his chin and gestured toward the woman beside him.
“You may choose first,” The Human’s hoarse, predatory voice sounded unexpectedly polite. “Ladies first.”
The Fool Klein responded with a slow, dignified nod. He moved the cards across the table with a touch of magic, spreading them into a perfect fan directly before Fors.
“Since fate has brought you here,” Klein instructed, sounding impossibly inscrutable, “let fate choose a codename for you.”
Fors swallowed.
The sound felt far too loud in the silence of the hall. With hands still trembling faintly, she hovered over the cards at random, hesitating for a second before grabbing one from the middle of the spread.
She turned it over and revealed the face: The Magician.
The illustration depicted a standing figure, one hand pointing a wand toward the sky and the other toward the earth. Before the figure, resting upon a table, were the symbols of the four Tarot suits—a cup, a sword, a wand, and a pentacle.
Above the figure’s head floated the symbol of infinity.
At the exact moment Fors’s fingers flipped the card, The Human did not look at the mystical cardboard.
Instead, his heterochromatic eyes fixed on an empty point in the air, just above the woman’s head.
“So this is what fate looks like when it moves…?” The Human murmured softly, genuine curiosity in his tone, as though he were observing invisible gears turning in the air.
“A snake?… no… A symbol?…” The Human blinked in confusion, rubbing his forehead as if nursing a headache.
At last, he named it: “Ouroboros…”
The hair on Fors’s arms rose beneath her silk pajamas. 'He' can see fate?! Literal fate moving?! Panic struck her again. What kind of monster sees destiny itself and comments on it as casually as the weather?!
Across the table, The Fool Klein’s thoughts were not much different, though his face remained well hidden.
Terrifying. What the hell are you seeing that I—the owner of this damn gray fog—am not seeing? I just told her to pick one at random to look mysterious!
And what do you mean, fate? What happened to your extravagant title?!
Clearing his throat mentally, Klein committed the name “Ouroboros” to memory and moved the remaining cards to the center of the table, gathering them before sliding them toward The Human.
This time, he turned the cards face up so The Human could choose.
“And you,” Klein asked, his tone level and neutral, “would you accept becoming part of the Tarot Club?”
Please say yes, Klein begged inwardly. Having someone strong, ridiculous, and terrifyingly practical like you at my secret gathering would be the best survival guarantee I could possibly have in this insane world.
The Human let out a low, rasping hum that echoed through the pillars of the hall as he assessed the face-up cards. Then he nodded slowly.
“You may turn them face down,” he said, resting his elbows on the table. “As you did with Fors. If I were to choose freely, I would take the Fool card—but since you already occupy it, we’ll let luck decide.”
He paused briefly, the red patterns across his shadowed skin pulsing faintly. “My title remains far away, with my real body. The effect I have that allows me to ignore fate and luck is severely weakened here—right now it only protects my mind… So this may affect me. Let’s see what happens.”
The explanation sounded confusing to Fors, registering only as something absurdly and ridiculously powerful. But for The Fool Klein—and those watching everything on the Stream—it answered a significant doubt.
So that’s why he said that earlier… Klein organized his thoughts and forced the cards to flip face down once more, shuffling them perfectly before The Human.
The moment the eighteen cards settled, aligned with their silver backs facing up, The Human raised his right hand and brought it down in a sharp, resounding slap against the bronze table.
BAM!
The impact made the entire environment tremble.
The ancient, millennia-old table shook, the gray fog rippled violently, and The Fool Klein had to grip the arms of his chair to avoid betraying surprise.
Fors, seated to the right, shrank slightly, letting out a small yelp.
The force of the strike sent a shockwave sweeping across the table. Sixteen cards shot into the air, spinning before falling back onto the bronze surface—every one of them face up.
Only two remained concealed: one card that, defying gravity and the impact, simply did not flip and remained intact in its original place; and the other, firmly pinned beneath The Human’s shadowed palm.
In a deathly silence, The Human looked down at his own hand, the ring of marks and symbols circling his orange pupil spinning at high speed.
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes unfocusing as if gazing at something far away.
Slowly, he flipped the card beneath his fingers—then turned over the card that had refused to move under the impact.
The first—the one beneath his hand—was The Devil.
The illustration depicted an imposing, demonic figure with twisted horns and membranous bat wings, seated upon an altar carved from bones and congealed blood.
Around him, dark abyssal flames burned across the landscape.
At his feet, a naked man and woman were chained to the altar by rusted shackles, yet their faces showed no pain; instead, they wore twisted smiles, symbolizing voluntary servitude to primal instincts, depravity, and the deepest corruption of the human heart.
The second card—the one that had resisted the tremor—was The Tower.
Its image depicted a colossal, ancient obelisk rising atop a desolate, rocky mountain. From the dark and oppressive sky, a chaotic, divine bolt of lightning struck downward violently, splitting the structure from its peak to its foundations.
The stone crown adorning the tower was sent hurtling through the air, while two human figures plummeted into the infinite abyss below, swallowed by flames and smoke.
It was the absolute portrait of sudden and inevitable destruction and calamity.
Staring at the two cards, The Human let out a scoffing laugh. It was a sound half resigned, half surprised, tearing through the silence of the hall.
“Perhaps fate truly wants it this way,” he murmured, his orange eye narrowing slightly. “The Devil is a familiar role to me, but The Tower?…”
The Fool Klein, perfectly maintaining his posture as an omniscient deity, did not hesitate to intervene and explain. As someone who prided himself on knowing a little about everything, he indeed knew a little about Tarot as well.
“The Tower symbolizes Calamity,” Klein explained, his serene voice echoing through the gray fog. “It represents sudden ruin, the end of an era, the collapse of pride, and the violent shattering of old structures and order. A disaster that sweeps everything away, yet invariably brings inevitable change in its wake.”
The Human studied the cards in silence for a few moments.
His fingers, formed of shadow etched with markings, tapped slowly against the edge of the table.
Then, as if processing the logic for himself—and perhaps for the thousands of hidden viewers on his stream—he gave a slight nod and spoke aloud:
“The Devil and The Tower. It does make a certain sense. I am Devas Asura, but at the moment, one could also say I am only a half. The Devil is me—my primary 'nature'. And the shadow of a Devil…” he tilted his head, the red iris blazing with insane intensity, “…is calamity itself. Since I am the shadow projected from myself, who is also Devas Asura… both cards define me.”
Across the table, The Fool Klein felt a chill at the description and leaned back in silence.
Beside The Human, Fors Wall shrank further into herself, nearly forgetting to breathe.
'He' admitted it… 'He' calmly admitted 'He' is literally the Devil and a walking Calamity… Terror ran cold down Fors’s spine.
Her thoughts were tangled and conflicted. While she felt safe and oddly protected by The Human, part of her also found him terrifying—more so with every word that left his lips.
Fors was beginning to wonder if the two of them weren’t, in fact, Evil Gods.
At least neither of 'Them' seems to want my soul or my body… The Human—no, Devas—'He' actually seems nice, even if 'He’s' incredibly scary.
Mr. Fool also seems kind and approachable… in 'His' own mysterious way.
Heh, even if I just became a devotee of two Evil Gods, at least… it’s still better than losing control to those deliriums…
I think I managed to reclaim my life. Whatever happens in the future would just be a bonus…
Sensing the absurd density in the air, The Human suddenly burst into laughter.
It wasn’t a scoff this time, but a dry, unhinged laugh laced with disturbingly amused insanity.
“If fate wants to play like this,” he said, raising his right hand, “I might as well choose the Mother and the Moon just for the pleasure of defying it and telling it to go fuck itself…”
He extended his hand toward two cards that, curiously, had fallen almost on top of each other after the strike against the table.
The lower one was The Moon. Its illustration showed a full, crimson moon hanging over a desolate landscape.
Below it, two dogs howled toward the sky between two stone towers that seemed to guard a winding path, while a crab emerged from dark, deep waters.
Resting directly above it was The Mother.
The card depicted a majestic and serene female figure seated upon a throne adorned with sheaves of wheat and harvest symbols. She held a royal scepter in one hand, cradled her pregnant belly with the other, wore a crown of twelve stars, and smiled sweetly and maternally with her eyes closed.
The Human’s hand was mere millimeters away from touching the cards.
And then—he froze.
His entire shadow-formed body seemed to flatten like a living painting suspended in the air, utterly motionless.
His dark fingers halted above the Mother card, which continued to smile sweetly and maternally.
That smile, for some reason, looked strange, sickly, and possessive in The Human’s eyes—growing more unsettling with each passing second he stared at it, even though nothing had actually changed.
One second passed. Two… three…
Silence swallowed the space above the gray fog. Fors stared at him in complete confusion, unable to understand why the action had stopped so abruptly and stiffly.
Five… eight… ten seconds.
The Fool Klein, hidden beneath the fog, was already beginning to frown.
Genuine anxiety rose in his chest. What happened? Is Devas alright?… Klein was just about to speak and ask whether something was wrong when, finally, that Shadow’s body moved.
The Human slowly withdrew his hand. The sharp-toothed smile had vanished.
All traces of amusement were gone, and he looked utterly disgusted.
He blinked, his heterochromatic eyes studying the Moon and Mother cards as though they were the most revolting and dangerous things in the universe.
“I feel…” The Human murmured, his tone strangely disturbed and confused, lacking the usual echo in his voice. “…I feel like I was almost deceived here, for some reason…”
After that, The Human leaned back slowly into the high-backed chair, remaining silent.
His heterochromatic gaze grew slightly unfocused, as if he were seeing something far away—or perhaps scrutinizing his own inner depths.
After several seconds in complete silence, he extended his hand again. Completely ignoring the Mother and Moon cards—as if they were incurable plagues—he picked up The Devil and The Tower.
Flipping them back and forth between his shadowed fingers, The Human raised his eyes toward the head of the table.
“Which one do you think I should choose?” he asked, his tone returning to its usual casual rasp. “Since you’re the… expert on the powers and oddities of this world.”
Expert? I’m just a freshly awakened Sequence Nine who read a few old diaries! Klein complained bitterly in his mind. Not only am I not an expert in anything, what I really want right now is to grab The Human by his illusory collar and shout, “What did you mean by ‘almost deceived’?! What the hell is wrong with those cards?!”
But The Fool would never ask something so mundane, desperate, and ignorant.
I’ll have to ask him in the Stream chat later, Klein decided quickly, his pragmatism taking over. I’ll request a private chat so no one sees anything and squeeze that information out of him. If something scared Devas, I absolutely need to know what it was.
Outwardly, the fog concealed his very human concerns perfectly. The Fool Klein maintained his inscrutable and untouchable aura.
Suppressing the urge to never bring those particular Tarot cards into existence again, The Fool Klein waved his hand, causing all the cards except the Devil, the Tower, and the Magician to vanish.
“You may keep both cards,” he replied, his tone placid and unchanged. “It suits your duality and nature. As for whether you are addressed as Mr. Devil or Mr. Tower within the Club, it matters little. I imagine you would prefer to be called by your own name.”
The Human bared a grin of sharp white teeth, twirling the Devil card between his shadowed fingers, his expression far brighter than moments before.
“Wouldn’t it be terribly improper of me to break your codename system on my very first day?”
“The codenames exist primarily so the other members can keep their real identities hidden from one another and from the outside world,” The Fool explained calmly. “Something I imagine you have absolutely no need to concern yourself with hiding.”
Taking advantage of the suddenly lighter, more controlled atmosphere, Klein allowed himself a bit of playfulness, though his mysterious tone never wavered. “If you care that much about decorum, you could very well go by ‘Mr. Human,’ if you wished. It would make a fair amount of sense. Or perhaps… ‘Mr. Foreigner.’”
The Human let out a laugh—a genuine, dry, amused sound that caused much of the tension in the air to dissipate.
“I think I’ll stick with Devas, at least for now,” he said, shaking his head. Then he turned toward the head of the table and afterward to the writer seated at his right. “However, Mr. Fool—or Fors, in this case, Miss Magician—you may introduce me as Mr. Devil or Mr. Tower to the other members in future gatherings, if you find it more appropriate. Since it makes no difference which you choose, both represent me—Devas Asura—whether shadow or main body.”
Fors, who had been slightly spaced out, still processing her own relief and acceptance of her bizarre new life under the wings of two “friendly Evil Gods,” blinked quickly and refocused. Her sharp writer’s mind immediately caught the nuance in The Human’s words.
“Introduce you in future gatherings…?” Fors asked hesitantly, clutching the pale silk of her pajamas. “Does that… does that mean you won’t be attending the next meetings, Lord Devas?”
The Human rested his chin on his left hand, his orange, sunlike eye studying her with that same peculiar gentleness that contrasted so sharply with his abyssal red one.
He seemed tempted to tell her to drop the “Lord,” but recalling past experiences with others, he simply decided to let her address him however she wished.
“My method of coming into this world is still… somewhat experimental, so to speak,” The Human explained, his voice turning thoughtful. “Perhaps in the future that will change, and I will have more freedom. But for now, I can only…”
He paused, thinking.
A darkly amused smile curved his lips in a way that fit disturbingly well with the Devil card he had just placed back on the bronze table.
“…fall into this world only once a week. And generally, there’s a high chance that opportunity will already have been used for some other necessity during the week, rather than for the gathering.”
The Human then moved his shadowed hands and placed The Devil and The Tower cards side by side, face up, perfectly aligned before his chair.
After that, he stood.
“Well, it was a good first meeting and an excellent first contact, Mr. Fool,” he said.
Instinctively, The Human glanced at his right wrist as if checking a watch that wasn’t there. “However, it’s already late. I have a few other things to do and test. Coming into this world has given me several insights and allowed me to better understand certain matters. Even though I’m not here personally in my physical body, this experience has changed some things within me.”
He lifted his heterochromatic gaze toward the head of the bronze table.
“You know where to find me, should you need to speak with me,” The Human remarked.
The implication in his tone made it clear he meant the stream and the phone, sparing the need to say it aloud in front of Fors. “I’ll invite you for a conversation later. Would tonight or tomorrow be better?”
The Fool Klein rose as well, maintaining his unshakable posture. “Tonight will do.”
It’s not like I’d be able to sleep after all this anyway, Klein mocked inwardly, practical urgency bubbling beneath the veil of illusion.
I need to have a serious talk with Devas without pretending to be an untouchable deity in front of tens of thousands of people watching this madness.
And Fors—there’s her too. I can’t forget that.
Satisfied with the answer, The Human turned to the writer curled in her chair. “Until next time, Miss Magician Fors,” he said politely and gently.
Without waiting for a reply, The Human turned his back to the table and walked toward the dense gray fog.
As he advanced, his figure began to destabilize.
The air filled with delirious whispers and echoes of hallucinations as his shadow-formed body literally melted, dissolving into a vibrant orange mist.
For a brief second, only his blazing right eye and sharp-toothed smile remained floating in the haze—before everything vanished completely.
Absolute silence returned to the ancient hall.
The Fool Klein turned his attention to Fors. “You may remain here until the night ends and it is safe to awaken. I imagine you have much to think about,” he said reassuringly. “However, I have certain matters to attend to.”
Without waiting, Klein severed the connection to the gray fog and returned to the real world.
His figure dissolved, as did the [Pocket Trump Card] upon the table, leaving Fors Wall alone above the gray fog, immersed in her own chaotic thoughts.
[…]
In the real world, in the dark room in Tingen, Klein awoke from his trance. He gasped lightly, feeling the immediate and radical shift in his body and spirit.
His acting had worked!
He wasn’t entirely sure which factor had weighed more heavily — whether it was the fact that he had acted as a true deity directly before The Human, because even though The Human knew Klein wasn’t truly a god, he was still ignorant of this world’s powers and mysteries, allowing the performance to function — or whether the presence of thousands of spectators from multiple universes watching his “performance” had accelerated the process, even if they weren’t physically there.
But the result was undeniable: he felt as though nearly his entire Seer potion had been digested in one go—and he had only taken it a few days ago.
Only a minuscule fraction remained before it would be fully digested!
Klein’s spirituality clearly indicated that this final drop depended solely on his own personal understanding of the potion’s principles—something he simply needed to internalize to complete the digestion.
Even if everything happened by accident and I improvised most of it, this was an absolute success! Klein celebrated inwardly, relief washing away the mental exhaustion the tension had caused.
His gaze fell to the back of his right hand, where the mystical markings rested. The orange eye there had vanished, and the [Pocket Trump Card] slipped inertly from his hand.
Quickly stuffing the card into his pajama pocket, Klein’s eyes shifted to the untouched phone on his bed and finally to the bedroom window.
Outside, the aggressive red rays of the Blood Moon seemed to be fading.
The light calmed rapidly, returning to the red glow of an ordinary night. The anomaly was passing, dissipating alongside the absence of The Human’s Shadow in this world.
A chill ran down his spine, unease settling in his chest. Klein shut the window and pulled the curtains closed quickly, making sure not to look directly at the moon at any point.
He tapped his chest four times in the shape of a crimson moon, offering a brief prayer to the Goddess in apology before taking several breaths to steady himself.
Klein then returned to his bed, sat down on the mattress, and picked up his phone.
Quickly, he typed his first message in the stream’s (CHAT).
[...]---[...]
Well, with this, we’re wrapping up this mini Lord of the Mysteries "arc".
I know some people might think it was short — and that’s fine — but I’m not going to force the story in a direction I don’t like or that I feel would come across as forced. I never planned for it to be anything more than a first contact in these early chapters.
As for the interactions: Devas and Klein are similar, to the point that it’s easy for them to become friends. As for Fors, she absolutely had to appear there, because Devas’s presence would make “Her” react — and “Her” reacting would cause Fors to almost lose control. It was either be saved by Devas or die.
And I like Fors, so there’s that too.
Lord of the Mysteries will continue to appear, with Klein commenting more as Mr. Fool in the public chat, and as himself — without the act — in the private chat. Devas will also be summoned there occasionally.
As for whether Devas will follow a path and become a Beyonder… well, about three people actually guessed what’s going to happen. In general, he will — and at the same time, he won’t. I’ll let things settle down a bit before that happens.
And, interestingly enough, there were two people acting there.
As for Devas’s title not functioning properly, that’s something that’s been there for a while as well. The title affects everything Devas has a connection to — the viewers through the stream, Jinn, and so on — but it has always been to a lesser degree than it affects Devas himself, as I mentioned a few times in Stark’s POVs.
The Shadow Puppet is Devas Asura, but at the same time, it is only a distant half without a connection to the real body. So even though the title still functions and his mind is protected, the parts that ignore fate, destiny, and luck are weakened.
Well, I won’t drag this out any longer.
Good night, everyone, and enjoy the reading!