Gun of Ashes

”Me? How is that possible! It must be the influence of some sort of erosion!”

Heracles was a little incredulous, he could only attribute the issue to erosion, knowing that it could affect a person’s consciousness.

”No, the erosion only triggered your illness.”

The woman’s voice came through, as she walked in calmly holding a notebook.

”Mr. Holmes is getting better, so we don’t need guards or anything to control him.”

The woman looked at Lorenzo briefly, then continued speaking to Heracles.

”Heracles, do you remember what you told us? About the details of your shipwreck, how you were lost at sea and relied on a chinchilla to survive, and when you were on the brink of death, you heard the chinchilla speaking to you, the voice conversing with you until you were rescued.”

Heracles was silent for a while, then nodded, confirming these events.

The woman sighed helplessly.

”Do you still not realize the problem? You already showed symptoms during the shipwreck, but you dismissed it as a hallucination. You also mentioned that the chinchilla had long been dead, dried up by the scorching sun.

The reason you didn’t have such symptoms later was because you self-healed... that’s just my temporary guess, as we can’t exactly pry open your head.”

”If that’s the case, I had been schizophrenic for a long time, but managed to self-heal, treating Polo’s voice as a hallucination... so why am I having symptoms again now?”

Heracles asked.

”Didn’t you say it yourself? Erosion, it might have re-triggered your symptoms... and proving it is actually quite simple.”

The woman said as she looked at Lorenzo, and asked.

”Do you remember what I told you before, Mr. Holmes?”

Lorenzo nodded, then looked maliciously at Heracles, who didn’t notice this at all, perhaps not expecting that even in such a situation, he would be betrayed by Lorenzo once more.

This feeling was quite subtle, as if things were already this bad, how much worse could they get?

Heracles was still too naive.

The woman clapped her hands and medical staff pushed open the door, wheeling in a small cart with a cage on top of it, enclosed on all sides except one wire-mesh side. It was dark and blurry inside, but the constant writhing shadows indicated that a chinchilla was inside.

”Heracles!”

”Polo!”

Polo’s voice emerged, and Heracles excitedly responded.

A man and a chinchilla, eyes wet with tears, had a subtle feeling of reuniting after a holiday. Regrettably, this reunion scene didn’t last long. The woman suddenly stood up, pulled out a scalpel from nowhere, and stabbed it forcefully into the cage in front of Heracles.

Heracles was stunned, hearing the sound of metal clashing, and could hear the chinchilla’s wailing amidst the harsh noises. Then everything fell silent.

Polo’s voice disappeared.

”You bastard!”

Heracles exploded in fury, raising a fist to punch the woman, but was tightly held back by Lorenzo. The Demon Hunter, with strength like pliers, controlled Heracles, preventing him from advancing an inch no matter how he struggled.

”Calm down, Heracles,” Lorenzo said.

”How can I calm down! That bastard killed Polo,” Heracles raged.

The woman remained calm and said placidly.

”Didn’t Polo die once already? I just killed the second version, so a third version is bound to appear to replace it, isn’t that right?

No, there were never any versions; Polo has always been you, another you.”

”What are you saying!”

Heracles shouted.

At this point, the woman stepped aside, revealing the cage behind her. The scalpel was lodged in the edge of the cage, not impaling the chinchilla at all, and the chinchilla cowered in the corner, shivering.

”Help me! Heracles!”

At this moment, Heracles could hear Polo’s voice again, slightly easing his anger.

”So I’m guessing it’s asking for your help?”

The woman smiled, but in Heracles’s eyes, the smile was immensely terrifying, no different from those demons.

”Mr. Holmes.”

The woman said while opening the cage, and Lorenzo considerately let Heracles go.

Before the chinchilla could scamper out of the cage, Heracles rushed forward, scooping it out and hugging it tightly, afraid someone might snatch it away again.

”Heracles!”

”Polo!”

Another two affectionate calls resounded, though Lorenzo and the woman could only hear Heracles shouting Polo’s name. Seeing this, Lorenzo couldn’t help but cover his eyes, as if witnessing a strange love story.

Yet, like many people’s love stories, what starts beautifully gradually turns sour.

Heracles lovingly stroked Polo’s soft fur, but soon realized something felt off about the touch.

”Polo...”

Heracles said puzzledly, as Polo now made no sound, reverting to an ordinary chinchilla, silent and lying obediently in Heracles’s arms. It was then Heracles realized this wasn’t Polo, but another chinchilla.

”What’s... going on?”

Heracles was thoroughly stunned, the emotional rollercoaster leaving him a bit dazed.

”See? Heracles, the chinchilla is merely a medium for triggering ’Polo’ in your consciousness. When I ’killed’ the chinchilla, your mind deemed Polo dead, so you couldn’t hear its voice. When I showed you the chinchilla was still alive, you could hear its voice again.

Now that you’ve realized this chinchilla isn’t yours, Polo has once again disappeared.”

Heracles fell into silence, confronted with undeniable evidence, unable to oppose anything.

”You are indeed ill, but the good news is that as long as the chinchilla isn’t before you, the other consciousness will remain dormant,” the woman said.

”Why... is it like this?”

Heracles had no choice but to believe what the woman said, although he still found his bizarre illness hard to accept.

”Did the shipwreck cause this?”

”I’m afraid it’s not just that. You see, a regular person with schizophrenia would experience disorganized thoughts, and lack super memory abilities... you are an exceptionally unique case.”

”What are you trying to say?” Heracles asked.

”It might be related to the demon.”

The woman flipped through the diagnosis, with a report from the Purification Mechanism clipped inside.

”Do you remember where you drifted to?”

”I can’t recall clearly. Oddly, I remember everything except the shipwreck distinctly.”

Heracles calmed down, recalling his past, the events were remarkably vivid, except for the shipwreck, as if an unknown force shrouded it, distorting it into an unrecognizable form.

For this time, Heracles seemed ready to accept treatment, becoming calm and composed like when Lorenzo first saw him.

”Is that so? Then let me tell you, the Purification Mechanism investigated your past and traced your route. Based on the accident site and potential drift direction, if nothing unexpected... you drifted onto the Silent Sea, and by a fluke, floated out again.”

”Silent Sea?”

Heracles’s expression changed, too complex to define as fear or excitement, but so complex that, suddenly, his illness didn’t seem as significant.

”Yes, the Silent Sea. This means you narrowly escaped the Death God twice,” the woman praised.