Ch.141Act 1: Ch.9 – The King Sleeps in Carcosa (10)

The Shokdok birds with human faces opened their mouths wide. Their jaws were split down to their ears, stretched as if about to dislocate. Crunch, crunch! They gnawed at the window frames and doors. They chewed on the log walls and roof.

“Buy us some time.”

Emma stretched her hands above her head. Blue flames circled in the air like a ball. Leaving the magician to do her work, I picked up an iron bar from the floor with my right hand. In my left, I held a revolver.

The Shokdok birds circled around the office. They were like eagles waiting for their prey’s last breath. But eagles don’t mock in human language, or scream, cry, and lament like these creatures. The walls and ceiling trembled with the sound of their wings.

Finally, the window gave way. The birds were sucked in. One shot took down two birds. I swung the iron bar to strike a bird and then stomped on it. Squish. It felt like stepping on a rotten pumpkin, but there was no time to dwell on it. I fired another shot at one flying toward Emma’s legs, then stabbed another trying to bite my shoulder.

One bird bit my left arm. It couldn’t pierce through my coat and shirt, but it hurt as if caught in a door. Still, the creature pulled at me, flapping its wings. I swung my left arm to knock away another one flying at my head.

But there were too many birds. Countless faces, faces, faces rushed in with wings. They opened their mouths wide, trying to tear us apart alive.

* Accept the mission and continue reading to intervene *

* Stop here if you do not accept *

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[ YOU HAVE CONTROL PRESS ANY KEY ]

* Now you are the protagonist *

You slip into a moment.

You see the blood and sweat flowing leisurely down Emma’s forehead. You can see her organs churning, unable to withstand the magical power, as she grits her teeth trying not to vomit.

The birds’ wing beats are slower than clouds drifting by. You experimentally swing the iron bar. It makes the same “whoosh” sound as before.

You shoot. You stab. You jam the iron bar into a bird’s gaping beak, then pull it out. You smash its head like breaking a flying tomato. You take two steps sideways and shoot the revolver stylishly, like a cowboy. One bullet penetrates three birds.

Ah, but if you wanted to, you could even track the bullet with your eyes.

You can see the revolver’s bullet getting slightly crushed each time it pierces through a bird. You watch as the bullet, after piercing the spine of the third bird, splits in two.

One half of the split bullet lodges in the decaying wall, the other in another creature’s head. Not a fatal wound. So you swing the iron bar upward. Grotesquely, the creature is smashed into the ceiling.

Yet still, there are too many birds.

You grow bored. You throw away the iron bar. You pour out the remaining bullets without restraint. You wildly swing random debris from the floor. Things break, shatter, and splinter into pieces, but you don’t hesitate, like beating a sinner to death.

– If it is fixed…

A familiar, wearisome voice resonates in your chest.

– What’s the difference between a moment and eternity?

Loss is painful. Something being there and then gone is sad. The thirstiest person in the world isn’t the one who couldn’t drink water. It’s the one who drank just a single drop. The same goes for Firesigh, who spent 4.6 billion years on barren Mars. A single drop of kindness became her curse.

– Only death remains unchanged. Because death is fixed. If you won’t give even a moment’s affection, give eternity. Let me live leaning on the eternity of “they are dead.” Allow me to put a period to you.

Shout at the universe. Yell into the void. Pour hatred into the sea. The world doesn’t care at all. “My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!”

You understand Firesigh’s solitude. Solitude is always one-sided. Not relating to or caring about anything is an honor. But when it feels like a burden, when you can’t enjoy indifference and feel loneliness and emptiness. It becomes a yoke, hanging from your neck.

Flames rise. Emma Scully, clothed in blue fire, looks at you. Ancient sorcery… using life force as collateral. She doesn’t have much time left. A week. Maybe less. Yet her flames bypass you. The spreading fire rises from the floor upward.

The priestess of a destroyed continent whispers in the language of flames. But you can’t understand. It’s like watching someone mouth words through a departing train’s window. What’s conveyed isn’t content, but only a sense of regret.

What’s the difference? What’s different between those gaping Shokdok birds and Emma? That they open their mouths wide and shed tears? That they cling to bodies equally rotting and festering?

The priestess engulfed in flames approaches you.

What happens next is completely unexpected.

The priestess’s palm flies toward you.

Slap.

Your head turns. Familiar pain floods in. But it’s not the pain that awakens you. It’s the realization in the form of pain that reopens the door to your heart.

We will not let go of you.

We will never let you go.

We will pull you back so you don’t fly away into the vacuum of solitude.

That is love.

[ YOU LOSE CONTROL ]

[ I HAVE CONTROL ]

* * * * *

Flames swept over my head. I quickly ducked down. Emma’s pillar of fire instantly blew away the office. Everything except the ground where she and I stood was incinerated, from bottom to top. A clean incineration.

The smell of burning rotten garbage, ash and flames scattered in the air. Emma collapsed toward me, and I quickly supported her. She was trembling. Despite the heat around us, she was shaking. Without a second thought, I hoisted Emma onto my back. She was surprisingly light, almost weightless.

Emma coughed. With each cough, she spat up clotted blood. I took off my coat and wrapped it around her.

“Your coat… will get dirty…”

“It’s fine even if it’s a bit singed. I just bought it today anyway.”

“Cough, cough! Ack…” Emma persistently pushed away my coat. “I said your coat will get dirty…”

I embraced her and wrapped the coat around her back. She tried to push me away, but she had no strength left.

“Damn it, you need to rest! Let’s wait until you stabilize. To Arkham Hospital…”

“No.”

Emma made a dying sound. The area under her eyes was hollow. It seemed like her empty body was sucking in her organs. Someone who had been so healthy now withered like a winter tree.

“Must stop… must stop it… the reservoir…”

“Not now! You need to rest!”

Emma grabbed my collar. Her voice was hoarse and cracked, so I had to put my ear close to her lips.

“Don’t you understand? Look at those Shokdok birds! They’re victims sucked into the reservoir! That reservoir pulls people in and devours them. It turns them into Shokdok birds to catch more prey! The reason no one knew until now is because anyone who looked at the reservoir was entranced and sucked in!”

“We can do it after you recover!”

Emma hit my chest with her fist. It was barely stronger than a push with a finger.

“I don’t have time anymore.”

Tears welled up in her eyes.

“I don’t… have time…”

I couldn’t bear to listen anymore. I picked her up and placed her in the back seat of the car. Before she could protest, I got into the passenger seat.

“Fine. Let’s go stop it. But we’re not going right now. Not until I know you can walk on your own two feet. Understand?”

“So stubborn…”

Every time Emma breathed, there was a leaking sound. It seemed like her lungs weren’t functioning properly, letting air escape. Strangely, it resembled the sound of a flute.

* * * * *

PM 9:11

Though Emma refused, I stubbornly wrapped my coat around her and buttoned it up.

“Can you walk?”

After getting out of the car, Emma staggered after just three steps. I had no choice but to carry her on my back. The flute-like sound mixed with her breathing was quite concerning.

“Emma. Really…”

“The flames might have been visible from the city,” her voice was surprisingly calm. “If so, someone will come and interfere with us. Then we’ll never be able to put ‘that thing’ sleeping here to rest. Arkham City will insist on using this as a water supply. Then… eastern Massachusetts will perish.”

Emma’s arms pulled me closer.

“So we must stop it. It will be harder after today. Understand?”

“I’ll stop it. I’ll stop it, I say. If you die here, what am I supposed to tell Agent Catherine Scully?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Emma smiled. “I’m not destined to die like that.”

“What do you—”

“Just go, assistant.”

I walked toward the reservoir. The forest had completely burned down, but the reservoir wasn’t visible. We must have gone quite deep last time.

“The Necronomicon?”

“Left it in the car. In the glove box.”

“Keep it safe.” Emma buried her head on my shoulder. Her long hair tickled my cheek.

“By the way, Emma. It’s a bit funny given our situation… but why did you pretend to be your sister?”

“It really doesn’t suit me, does it?” Emma laughed. That sorrowful laugh made my heart ache. It was the laugh of someone facing death, suppressing the fear of annihilation while cheerfully recalling old memories.

“My sister and I are similar. We both know how to cross the boundary between matter and soul, to understand people’s hearts. I through magic and ritual, my sister through science and hypnosis. But we’re fundamentally different. I believed even delusions were true if I experienced them, while my sister filters through reason and rationality.”

So it seems Emma can cross into the spirit realm, but Catherine cannot.

“My sister’s power is stronger than mine. Reason and rationality mean self-control, the ability to refine power. Unlike me… a foolish woman who uses everything up without thinking of consequences. Cough, cough! I once resented my sister for changing the course of my life… but walking my own path, I came to understand her. When I was sick and lying alone, I thought maybe I should have lied when I saw that medal.”

“Medal?”

“You don’t need to know.” Emma brushed it off.

But I already knew from what I’d heard. The vision of Hyperborea that Catherine and Emma saw together. Catherine denied it, Emma affirmed it. So Catherine could lead a normal life, but Emma went astray as a deranged child.

But isn’t it cruel to force ten-year-old children to choose between truth and lies in an instant, causing their lives to be twisted?

“So I protected my sister. Once you know something, you can’t go back to not knowing. Fear, terror, broken trust—it’s the same. When you realize the world isn’t what you thought, it feels like the ground is collapsing beneath you. You can never go back to those good times. When that child carelessly traversed others’ minds, I protected her. Twin intuition, perhaps… And then. I saw you.”

It must have been that day when Firesigh was chasing me. The day I heard about the medal and Hyperborea from Catherine. Emma’s weak fingers caressed my cheek.

“Assistant. How did you get involved in all this?”

Emma pressed her body against my back. Her body was still trembling, but her voice had strength.

“I came looking for Professor Armitage. I found a complete version of the Necronomicon and wanted him to translate parts not found in other pages. But I found him lying unconscious here. I never imagined the reservoir would be like this. What about you?”

“I told you. I tracked you. It’s strange. You’re like a lightning rod. I don’t know if you seek out strange things, or if strange things follow you.

Since Professor Armitage was working on a request from the Federal Security Bureau, there must have been prior discussions with my sister. When she hears that the professor went missing and you showed up, she’ll definitely come here.

So I had to get you out before my sister arrived, and I wanted to finish this before she came. My options were limited. Or perhaps my imagination was poor.”

“So. Ahem. What’s the method?”

“We have to kill it.”

I stopped walking. Is this woman really suggesting we “kill” the reservoir?

“Isn’t it strange? That reservoir entrances anyone who looks at it. But when the forest burned down, the police officers and firefighters weren’t drawn into it. Why do you think that is?”

I searched my memory. Come to think of it, they really did act as if nothing had happened. The reservoir had no effect on them at all.

“Why do you think that is?”

“That’s…”