Rain… night.
A rainy night.
An ordinary word, ordinary weather, a word that had become almost synonymous with Nostramo.
Kariel opened his eyes.
No, he hadn’t been sleeping.
In fact, peaceful, deep sleep had long abandoned him.
Unlike ordinary people, when he closed his eyes, he didn’t see soothing, profound darkness.
He saw many things, but not peace.
Raising himself up, Kariel looked a bit dazed.
The muscle pain and bone ache had subsided.
Nevertheless, he still took a few deep breaths to calm himself.
This had already become a kind of habit for him.
Besides, he needed to keep his composure to handle whatever might happen next.
The aristocracy wouldn’t let this go so easily; Kariel knew that better than anyone.
“It’s noisy outside.” Ghost said this from the corner.
He was crouching, lightly poking at a wooden board he’d picked up from a junkyard with his right index finger.
When he didn’t apply force, his nails weren’t that sharp.
So the board remained intact for now.
But what would happen next was unknown.
At that moment, neon light flashed outside, its bright rays penetrating the room through the window.
Thanks to this, Kariel could clearly see Ghost’s dirty, matted black hair falling over his pale forehead.
It looked terrible.
He frowned.
“Really?” “Yes… it’s a strange night tonight, Kariel.” Ghost lifted his head and blinked.
“I went to the seventeenth, observed.
The ‘Crimson Finale’ residence has already been taken by others… they didn’t fight over it for days like before.
That’s very strange.” “The seventeenth?” Kariel asked.
He didn’t pay attention to the key information Ghost had provided yet, instead asking about something seemingly trivial.
“The seventeenth gargoyle,” Ghost lowered his head and answered quietly.
“I like her.” “Ah, so you’re naming them again… what exactly do you like about her?” “Huh?” “What exactly do you like about her?” Ghost hesitated, then lifted his head again.
He grabbed the board, waved it in his hand, and then answered Kariel’s question.
“She has… she has a very smooth surface?” “Answer confidently, Ghost,” Kariel smiled slightly.
“When a person expresses their likes or dislikes, they must be firm.” “She has a very smooth surface,” Ghost said, straightening up.
Even his voice became louder.
“And?” “…She’s very new?
She’s very new, Kariel.” Ghost smiled.
He wasn’t used to this expression yet, so it came out stiff.
But it was progress.
“She’s very new,” Ghost repeated.
“I like her.” “So you like newer gargoyles more?” “No, not exactly,” Ghost shook his head, still holding the board.
“I’ve already found the eighteenth and nineteenth, but I still like the seventeenth the most.” “Then why?” “Because…” Ghost’s voice trailed off.
He looked at Kariel in confusion, not knowing what to say next.
He couldn’t find any more reasons.
“What a meager ability to express thoughts.” “While you were carrying me back, you rattled off twenty-three different ways to prepare rats without stopping, and none of my requests for you to shut up worked.
And now you can’t name a third reason for liking the seventeenth gargoyle.” Looking at Ghost, two thoughts flashed through Kariel’s mind.
“A deficient mind” and… “Do you remember your past, Ghost?” Kariel asked.
“Huh?” “The past.
Your past.” Ghost answered Kariel with an expression of extreme bewilderment.
Sighing quietly, Kariel had to repeat his question, adding more detail.
He had already realized that in conversations with Ghost, it was best to avoid metaphors and insinuations.
“Before you met me… or rather, before you ended up in that mine with lots of rats, very warm, and full of dirt, where were you?” “…” Ghost didn’t answer immediately.
He frowned and thought.
Kariel didn’t rush him.
He could see from Ghost’s face how hard he was trying, so the result wasn’t that important.
Of course, if Ghost could tell him something, that would be wonderful.
Kariel could tell even with his little toe that Ghost definitely wasn’t born naturally, neither as a human nor as any other creature.
And that worried him greatly.
“I…” “Hm?” “Fire… and also, I was falling.” Ghost said this quietly, and right now, he looked nothing like the naive monster Kariel knew.
His body trembled, his face too, the muscles under his skin twitching continuously as if in a seizure, but Ghost didn’t notice it himself.
Or he noticed but couldn’t stop it.
Kariel frowned seriously and clenched his teeth.
He already understood what was happening and prepared himself.
Frankly, he already regretted asking that question.
In fact, he regretted it very much.
“Twenty…” Ghost continued with difficulty, his voice trembling.
At that moment, something stirred in his dark eyes.
Like decayed bones swallowed by a swamp, desperately trying to see the light again.
Kariel abruptly clenched his fists.
A bad feeling took root in his heart.
He tensed his muscles and said quietly: “That’s enough, Ghost.” “…Fate!
Fate!” Ghost roared shrilly, the veins bulging on his neck.
Then he screamed and fell backward.
“No!
No!
I don’t belong to that place!
I don’t want to return to the darkness!” Screaming, Ghost crashed heavily to the floor, his dark eyes still staring at the ceiling of the Sanctuary.
His body convulsed in agonizing spasms.
Kariel’s preparation paid off.
The moment Ghost fell, he lunged toward him, grabbed his arm with his right hand, and was about to lift him… but at that moment, Kariel was struck as if by lightning.
He heard some sounds.
“Wait, were those really sounds?” “Or was it merely a figment of his imagination?” Amid the piercing noise and terrible whispers penetrating through the Veil, Kariel released his hand in agony.
Infinite numbness and pain radiated from the point of contact.
Ghost was still screaming, and he… “No.” Trembling, Kariel exhaled a cloud of icy vapor.
An icy blue light flared in his eyes.
And then, in a surge of merciless cold and freezing shivers, he felt… Them.
Something from another world, another dimension.
With inhuman, crushing force, like a collapsing building, they descended upon his mind, trying to tear from the depths of Kariel Lokhars’s soul — the fallen aristocrat of Nostramo — his most intimate secrets.
They were full of malice, they shrieked and drove tiny, poisoned blades into Kariel’s heart.
They craved his past, his history, his desires… without knowing anything yet, they already promised him everything — from worldly wealth to boundless power, even showing him a transformed Nostramo.
But Kariel Lokhars was not there.
“Get out,” the ghost said, in a trembling but firm voice.
“I have nothing to give you.
I have no desires for you to manipulate…” The ghost extended his right hand and swiftly grabbed Ghost.
“Out!
Out!” he roared, and the glow in his eyes was brighter than ever.
“Stay away from him!” … “Kariel?
Kariel?
Wake up!” Ghost’s alarmed cry made Kariel wearily open his eyes.
He wanted to say something, but his dry, sticky lips wouldn’t obey.
“Do I not even have the strength for that?” he thought with bitter irony.
“Kariel?!” Shaking, shaking, shaking… then Ghost, trembling, lifted him and very carefully, gently, sat him down on that same broken chair.
A light breeze blew.
Kariel saw that Ghost was fanning him with that rotten wooden board.
His lips were pressed tight, his eyes wide open, his face paler than any Nostramo resident.
“…Don’t,” Kariel said with difficulty.
“You’re alive!” “Yes, I’m alive, but if you scream like that a couple more times, I might die… I really might die.” Kariel looked weakly at Ghost, and at that moment, Ghost unexpectedly showed an uncharacteristic perceptiveness.
He understood everything from a single glance.
Ghost immediately fell silent and, gripping the chair leg, went still.
Of course, this couldn’t last long.
After a brief silence, Ghost spoke cautiously.
“You… are you okay, Kariel?” “…Water,” Kariel said with difficulty.
Ghost jumped up and, with inhuman speed, kicked the door open and ran outside.
Kariel knew where he was headed — on the roof of the Sanctuary, there was a small rainwater filter.
Three seconds later, Ghost returned, carrying in his hand, shielded by the hem of his robe, a tin cup with a chipped rim.
He slowly brought it to Kariel’s lips.
He obviously hadn’t forgotten that it was raining outside.
“Are you okay?” Ghost asked cautiously.
“Better now… and thank you for bringing the water, Ghost,” Kariel said.
“And I’m sorry for asking you that question.” “…” Ghost silently pressed his lips together and lowered his head.
“Lift your head,” Kariel said gently.
“Don’t act like you’re somehow to blame… you did great.” Ghost lifted his head and looked at him in confusion, not understanding what he was talking about.
Kariel just smiled slightly.
“You did great, if you’ve been hearing their voices all this time…” He sighed.
“But I still have to tell you something… lift your head.” “Oh.” “In the future, if during a solo mission you feel the same as you did just now,” Kariel said slowly, “no matter what you’re doing, come to me immediately.” Ghost shuddered slightly, and then his face noticeably brightened.
“Your countdown won’t reach zero?!” “…Is it raining outside?” Kariel turned his head toward the open door.
He could have seen the truth himself, but he still asked the question, not even forgetting to close his eyes.
“Huh?” “Is it raining outside, Ghost?” “It is, Kariel… your countdown won’t reach zero?” “…Is it raining hard?” “Not really.
But will your countdown reach zero?” “…” That night, it also rained on Nostramo, but not heavily.