In a realm far removed from the crowded mainland, nestled away from prying eyes, the sun approached with gentle warmth. New Utopia, a pleasant town, embraced the graceful morning of spring. Every Sunday, the residents were exempted from the rigors of labor, adhering to the holy decree of Mr. Fool, who advocated for a day of rest each week. It was a tranquil break, affording time for familial bonds, romantic liaisons, and the pursuit of personal passions for all. The streets laid quiet as most establishments closed their doors, save for a select few providing sanctuary for social gathering.
Yet, amid the general amnesty, a crowd was amassed before the unassuming facade of the town's big cathedral that also served as a school. The structure, neither grandiose nor frail, distinguished itself through its numerous and vast majestic colored windows, allowing light and shadow to travel freely within. With just a glance, anyone could perceive the good maintenance of this establishment, speaking volumes about its significance to the townsfolk.
After a brief pause, the doors of the cathedral parted, revealing a figure of imposing stature. Atros the bishop stood tall and broad, a testament to his giant lineage. His face was adorned with facial silver hair and myriad scars, yet he welcomed his people with a familiar warm smile. The small company displayed a blend of concern and anticipation on their faces. However, despite these emotions, they exhibited no signs of hesitation as they approached the sacred sanctuary.
Behind the group strolled the old priest with Klein, who had taken on the guise and mannerisms of Otis. His demeanor matched his polished appearance, clad in a sleek black trench coat. This wear seemed to be the group's standard, yet Klein's coat stood out subtly with its sleeves accented in shimmering white silver. Despite its formal look, his coat offered both comfort and freedom of movement.
As the group, a dozen-strong, stepped into the main hall, a young blonde haired boy of barely fourteen turned his head toward Atros, a small hint of perplexity on his face.
"Mr. Bishop, we covered this in class, but will I really be in one pathways group forever once I'm assigned to one?"
Klein turned his gaze toward the young blonde boy, seemingly lost in reminiscence, as he observed the old man responding to him.
"Yes, indeed, but rest assured, we'll ensure the path ahead is suitable and harmless for you. And always remember, you're not obliged to proceed if you're not ready."
The young aspirant, though not entirely convinced, chose not to press further and instead nodded before returning to his fellow classmates. "Thank you, Mr. Bishop," he said with a polite tone.
After Atlos returned the politeness, he maintained formality as they walked to the main room. Klein, following beside him, briefly recalled yesterday's promise.
"I've already placed the books you requested in your office."
"How thoughtful of you, Assistant Smith. I truly appreciate it."
Atlos, showing a bit of concern, spoke in a low voice.
"You know, those books are the latest edition available in the Church of the Fool, and they're recommended for an even younger audience compared to the previous edition. The evaluation ceremony has also lowered its minimum age requirement compared to previous years."
Klein nodded, in thought.
It's inevitable that more and more people are beginning to uncover the hidden world of mysticism and beyonders. I fear that concealing such a significant secret from the masses won't be possible for much longer.
He continued to listen as the old man carried on. "It appears the day when crimson will rise and engulf the entire sky is slowly approaching. I just wish we had more time for preparation..."
Maintaining a serious demeanor, Klein held onto the same hope inwardly. Training beyonders in this way might not have a significant impact on the overall outcome, but he hoped it could at least improve the chances of survival for those children, even if only slightly.
Atros' smile curled slightly at the corner as he pressed his hand to his chest and gave a small bow. "But worry not, Mr. Fool won't let such an outcome slide. We just have to do our best to follow his will. Praise The Fool!"
Upon hearing this, Klein smiled slightly and mirrored his gesture.
I won't accept such an outcome.
"Praise the Fool!"
Everyone filed into the sacred assembly hall, which also served as a classroom. Each student took their usual seat, quietly anticipating the start of the evaluation. The room was filled with a hushed atmosphere, occasionally broken by whispers as everyone waited patiently.
Suddenly, the doors swung open, revealing a duo dressed in black trench coats, their sleeves decorated with a thin line of gold. One of them was a striking young woman with long silver hair tied up, her outfit embellished with tiny bells that tinkled softly as she moved. The other was a pale young man with short black hair and crimson eyes, revealing two pointed teeth.
The silver-haired lady was the first to speak, offering a modest bow. "Please accept our apologies for being late, coming to this place proved challenging. Let's proceed with the examination without any further delay."
The bishop showed no signs of concern and warmly welcomed the two instructors required to lead the evaluation. Observing the arrival of the responsible parties, Klein then turned towards the duo and the old man, offering a respectful bow.
"As an assistant, it seems my ability to aid is somewhat limited. I hope the evaluation goes smoothly. If you'll excuse me, I'll take my leave now."
Atros didn't restrict it; after all, Otis had participated in many evaluations, and his assistance was rarely required. He nodded with a bright smile as the two others also showed no surprise and saluted him. After wishing the students the best of luck, he casually made his way toward the exit.
While Klein enjoyed participating in such events, he had grown weary of the repetitive process and felt a bit embarrassed hearing the bishop recite the teachings of The Fool. As he made his way out of the cathedral, he couldn't help but wonder how his followers could take the holy book so seriously.
Klein chuckled softly, I'd rather die than even admit this holy book is about me.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, Klein knew he might have overreacted. Lately, his emotions had been all over the place, sometimes strong, but mostly absent. That was the cost of operating a fragmented soul. To stay connected with his human side, he found that occasionally exaggerating his reactions helped bring out buried emotions. Such were the goals of Otis' persona, after all.
Such were the responsibilities of a god—balancing prayers, guiding destinies, and uniting the people. It was a daunting task, requiring wisdom, power, determination, and above all, sacrifices. Each decision carried immense weight, shaping the lives of individuals and the fate of this world.
The outside remained largely unchanged, basking in the calm atmosphere of a lazy Sunday. Klein, impersonating as Otis, walked through its streets, exchanging greetings with the handful of residents who also had ventured out for a leisurely stroll. Eventually, he made his way to the outskirts, where the town met the sea.
The deep blue waves rolled in and out like the never-ending tide, their rhythmic motion creating a soothing sound. The air was heavy with the scent of the salty sea, enhancing the atmosphere. The wind blew steadily, gently brushing against everything in its path. In the distance, a figure dressed in black could be seen, walking along the shore with a wooden cane in hand.
It was Klein, finally able to wander and exhale, to simply be. He leaned into the breeze, feeling it caress his hair like a comforting hand. Inhaling deeply, he tasted the salty air, letting its tangy scent fill his lungs. The deep blue waves rolled and crashed against the shore with persistence, singing a soothing lullaby. As he gazed upon the vast expanse of water, he felt a burden lift from his shoulders, replaced by a serene calmness. With each breath, he felt rejuvenated, as if the sea were breathing new life into his weary soul.
One wouldn't typically encounter such beauty, Klein was simply heightening his senses. He understood that reality wasn't always as delightful, yet he wanted to fully embrace the moment. If a simple illusion could bring about positive change, he was willing to welcome it. After all, he had learned from the past that although hope could be proven to be just an illusion, it had still propelled him to where he was now.
His thoughts drifted like the waves. He recollected the coffee chat he had with Evernight. Maintaining his humanity and reasoning as a deity required reliance on anchors, though it wasn't solely limited to it. In many instances, angels and beyond had acted as their own anchors. Assuming a human guise, like his portrayal of Otis and others, similarly helped at preserving his humanity for the moment.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, birds glided across the sky in illumination by the fading light. Klein was lost in reflection, considering how to strengthen his sense of self. Juggling the remnants of the Celestial Worthy with the challenges of being a pillar, he was eager to find simpler ways to ground himself in his new reality.
I suppose I'll need to ask Her more about it, he mused to himself. What might She have in store for our next encounter? Another coffee shop, perhaps?
He decided to set aside the matter for now and simply enjoy his day off.
I basically gave myself a day off through Mr. Fool, huh? he smirked to himself.
With a clear mind, Klein took his time to savor his day along the coast before journeying back to his secluded home, nestled away from the town and overlooking the sea. As night quickly fell, he received news of the successful evaluation of the students.
Klein reflected on the day's events with a sense of satisfaction as he settled into bed, the soothing sounds of the sea hushed him to a state resembling sleep.
.
Monday had arrived.
It was an important day of the week for Klein, and also one of the days he enjoyed the most. For Otis, it was another day off, perfect excuse for him to stay in his favorite coffee shop at a corner of a street.
Klein, with Otis' distinctive light brown hair, took a seat at a table and began reading the local newspaper. There was practically no one else in the shop apart from a few regular elders who had made it a routine to be there each morning.
He ordered a simple Fizzling Ice Tea, a beloved local beverage of New Utopia with origins dating back to the old Utopia, now in ruins. The refreshing taste of the drink was especially delightful for Klein.
Tick-tock, tick-tock
Time passed with the pulsing beat of the clock.
Raising his gaze, Klein checked the time on the silver clock hanging on the wall. It was nearly three in the afternoon. With a decisive motion, he made his way toward the men's restroom and entered one of the secluded toilet rooms. The small room was meticulously maintained, adhering closely to the doctrine of the Church of the Fool, which advocated for cleanliness to combat diseases.
Taking his accustomed seat, Klein slowly closed his eyes. He sensed his entire inner essence detach from his body as his fragmented soul commenced its departure. A faint thread of spirit, attached to Otis' body and stretching far into the beyond, became apparent. Following this ether thread, an upgraded version of a spirit body thread, Klein watched as the physical world dissolved, submitting to the subtle expanse of the Spirit World.
The world appeared to collapse inwards, giving way to a rebirth where reality dissolved into a mystical realm, blurring the boundaries of past, present, and future. This tangible scene lasted briefly as Klein advanced towards a swirling gray fog, infested with crawling figures, echoing cries, and frenzied ravings. Yet amidst the chaos, Otis' ether thread was not alone; tens of thousands of similar threads converged towards the fog. As he approached, an unexpected silence fell over the distraught entities, leaving room to grant him passage, none daring to reach out and touch him.
Above the fog, towering pillars seemed to ascend endlessly into the void, their features obscured by mist. A powerful sense of familiarity swept over him as he felt the vibrations of the other spirit threads. With a surge of anticipation, he appreciated the presence of his other fragmented souls drawing near. As the phantom-like spirit bodies, numbering in the thousands, converged upon the shadowy figure standing there, it gradually transformed into a towering form—a manifestation of their original essence, before receding to a normal human size. A fractured soul remained apart and stood by.
All kinds of lives and identities merged to form a singular entity—The Fool, or to be precise, Klein. He encompassed the thousands of personas, each holding a piece of his soul and connected to him through their ether threads.
As the figure materialized, draped in a black robe tinged with ethereal gold, its presence commanded awe. Beneath the hood, a mask of intricate design adorned its features, its constantly shifting forms creating a mesmerizing, glitching effect. Below the figure, smooth-surfaced tentacles sprawled across the floor, adding to its enigmatic allure.
This Klein remained devoid of emotion or expression, resembling a stoic figure akin to an ancient being who had endured millennia. His demeanor exuded not humanity, but rather conviction, authority, and power. In that precise moment, he embodied The Fool, one of the three existing pillars that governed the cosmos, ruling above even the Great Old Ones.
The solitary and fractured soul, unwilling to merge earlier, took on human form. It transformed into a youthful, well-refined gentleman sporting gold-rimmed glasses, sleek black hair, and piercing, icy eyes. His presence emitted a somber yet commanding allure, emanating an air of ruthless. This was Gehrman Sparrow as the World, a fabled adventurer and the enigmatic savior of lost souls. In the pirate world, his mere mention provoked fear and submission.
He glanced at the sole divine figure of the place and performed a graceful bow, one hand positioned in front while the other rested behind his back.
Interacting with himself as such might be awkward to some, but Klein had long grown accustomed to it.
The Fool nodded back as he slowly raised both of his arms.
With a snap of his fingers, the fog and tentacles dissipated, revealing a long stone table adorned with 22 seats. At the head of the table, The pillar sat upon a throne that commanded authority over the other seats. Klein as Gehrman took his usual place.
Dozens of stars of various colors and different forms appeared, floating around, beckoning to be drawn in. With his two arms, Klein as the Fool reached out into the void and pulled them in.
Unique figures began to materialize on the seats, each one distinct, leaving a few empty.
As they each appeared one by one, a voice broke the weighting silence of the void—a voice that was charming, mature, elegant, and filled with enthusiasm. Its timbre resonated with wisdom and grace, yet carried a youthful vigor that filled the room with energy.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fool~!"