Eldritch Horror Theatre

Fu Qian had always been curious about what Nepheli—a genius of the Benevolent Curse Institute and the inventor of the Yesterday Once More Miracle—had seen in her own past.

After a few subsequent encounters with that question in mind, the answer was now glaringly obvious.

Even Nepheli’s highly unusual worldview had finally found a logical explanation: she, too, had seen the version of herself that triggered the apocalypse.

Whether it was real or false, it was enough to plant a seed of doubt.

Consequently, everything she had once pursued would suddenly feel entirely meaningless in the dead of night.

If everything she had spent her life exploring turned out to be nothing but a web of lies woven by someone else, that would undoubtedly be hard to accept for a proud academic.

In short, it seemed obvious that Excellency Nepheli had snapped under the revelation, ultimately abandoning a brilliant future to join a villainous organization and begin comprehending the world through a rather alternative lens.

Of course, thanks to his own enthusiastic meddling, she had already been successfully expelled from that villainous organization.

After that, she had tracked him down to ask for a wisp of the Flame of Frenzy.

”I still have to thank you for generously sharing it.”Nepheli seemed to be thinking the exact same thing. Her words of thanks served as a tacit admission to Fu Qian’s silent accusation as she cast her gaze around.

”I discovered this place a long time ago. Sadly, it still wasn’t early enough. By that point, I no longer cared much about the secrets buried in the Ash Sea... I figured it was just another patch job left by the Night Watchers.

”But once I discovered a certain unique trait of this place, figuring out how to utilize it immediately became the answer I sought.”

...

She was speaking more and more bluntly now.

”Another patch job left by the Night Watchers.” It was glaringly obvious that Nepheli held a similar opinion regarding the aftermath of the exploration operations—namely, that the Night Watchers were heavily involved in the cover-up.

It wasn’t a hard conclusion to reach, but her dismissive tone spoke volumes. She clearly couldn’t care less about the order the Night Watchers maintained—a textbook symptom of a villainous turn.

After all, if everything before them was merely an illusion outside the real world, how was any of it different from a dream?

”And you found it.”

Fu Qian mimicked Nepheli, reaching out to caress the empty air. Unfortunately, there was no tactile sensation of an invisible living creature. Even the raging flames failed to offer any sense of familiarity.

”I did. With Rom’s help,” she said. ”Unfortunately, it was yet again not early enough... By the time I realized I needed to light a fire, I had lost the kindling.”

Watching his gestures, Nepheli casually dropped a terrifying name, her laughter carrying a heavy dose of self-mockery.

”Well... that’s certainly unfortunate.”

Witnessing such a reckless move, Fu Qian could practically see the Charm-Dispelling Light shining off Nepheli’s body.

Rom was a higher entity—and not one locked away in ancient myths, either, but a figure who had been active just a couple of days ago. Yet here she was, in such a highly sensitive location, casually referring to Rom by name.

Even with evidence suggesting that the entity had suffered heavy damage during the previous operation, Nepheli’s attitude was nothing short of brazen.

Her mention of kindling was also painfully obvious—the process required a spark of the Flame of Frenzy as a catalyst.

It was just a pity that her luck was truly terrible. She had run right into the return of the King of the Abandoned Prison, causing the Miracle that once summoned the Flame of Frenzy to fail entirely.

”But the target for that fire shouldn’t be this place, right? I recall you saying you meant to ignite yourself.”

Retracting his hand to stroke his chin, Fu Qian zeroed in on the details, suspecting Nepheli was being deliberately vague about certain things.

”Oh? Given our respective positions, you don’t really have any reason to trust a word I say. Couldn’t that have just been an excuse I made up on the spot?” Nepheli found this somewhat odd, looking at him with an amused smile as she fired the question back.

”It could be, but I lean toward it not being one.”

Evidently trusting his own judgment more, Fu Qian shook his head.

”...It indeed wasn’t.”

Staring at Fu Qian for a moment, Nepheli took a deep breath.

In the blink of an eye, the flames wreathing her body flared even brighter, perfectly demonstrating why bellows were used to stoke a fire.

Of course, that wasn’t the main point. This time, the flames roaring around her finally carried a familiar scent.

”Everything before us is merely a reflection. The only thing being ignited is indeed myself.”

...

So that was how it was. One always had to keep their guard up against the twisted sense of humor of academic types.

Though she had only offered a few words, it was enough for Fu Qian to piece together the truth of the situation.

The phrase ”needed to light a fire” was incredibly misleading. It made it too easy to assume that Nepheli had to ignite the entire Domain of the Dead to fulfill her plan.

Even the brightly illuminated Lighthouse behind her added to that distinct sense of déjà vu.

But he couldn’t forget that he was the master of the Flame of Frenzy. No matter how much a power mutated, there had to be a limit, and the flames currently burning before him held absolutely no sense of affinity.

That detail alone had been enough to spark Fu Qian’s suspicions.

The facts proved that Nepheli’s transformation into a candle was the truth all along. She was utilizing the miraculous creature beneath their feet in an entirely different manner.

”If a candle wants to be reflected in a mirror, it must first be lit?” Fu Qian offered a casual analogy.

”Exactly... like a mirror. That is the fundamental nature of this place, even though Rom claims it is a creation of the Death Sequence.”

To his surprise, Nepheli once again broke into an enthusiastic round of applause.

”I am not sure how it’s supposed to reflect the path leading to the Inverted Lake, but it does seem capable of helping you see your true self more clearly—provided you present yourself in a sufficiently intense manner.”

And for that, she hadn’t hesitated to cremate her own brain?

The truth was now largely out in the open, leaving Fu Qian to sigh inwardly.

Moreover, based on her explanation, his previous analogy comparing this place to the Precious Mirror of Romance had turned out to be extraordinarily accurate.

”It’s not surprising. Aren’t those lucid people trapped in here the perfect examples?” Fu Qian reasoned. ”In theory, you’re just trying to figure out whether you’re dead or alive.”

Even the speculation that this place was connected to the Dominator of Death had been verified. Fu Qian offered this comforting remark with deep satisfaction.

”Heh, it sounds like you had a very pleasant chat with them...”

Nepheli also looked incredibly amused as she listened.

”I’m not sure what conditions Cass offered you, but if I had still been around when you joined the Academy, I would have used every method at my disposal to drag you into the Benevolent Curse Institute—wait a second, how did you do that?”

Realizing something mid-sentence, Nepheli abruptly furrowed her brow.

”The time has clearly run out. Why hasn’t the storm stopped?”

Wasn’t it obvious? Why else would he have been so careful to avoid torturing anyone during his interrogations?

Fu Qian sighed inwardly, though a wide smile stretched across his face.

”That’s just how the weather forecast works,” he said. ”It’s rarely accurate.”

Hmm...

Unfortunately, Nepheli didn’t say another word. She cast a profound look in his direction before vanishing, taking the brilliant light that wreathed her body with her.

...

He sighed. He knew there was no such thing as a perfect coincidence. He was still one step too late after all.

As the scene blurred and shifted, Fu Qian found himself standing once again at the foot of the Lighthouse, right past the door.

Amidst the faint gleam, he pulled his hand away from the door behind him and tilted his head up to gaze at a corner of the Tower’s peak.

Light was still radiating from that exact spot. However, it was no longer possible to recognize the esteemed senior who had once stood there; all that remained was a pile of sparkling, crystalline human bones.