Chapter 15:

Dyed In Purple

Scorpion In The Pendulum

It was utterly uproarious, utterly blurry, and utterly chromatic.

Sarai heard things, saw things, tasted things, and most importantly, felt things.

Claimed by his mind’s dullness, he began grasping fragments of visions and lived memories.

Spark! — The city’s lights flashed across his blurred pupils, and the chatter of crowds unsettled him.

As he pictured Aliskra’s ethereal presence beside him, holding his hand warmly, and allowing her laughter to resonate in his ears, his vision flashed like a glitching screen, taking him to another fragment.

Spark! — Now, surrounded by festival tents, shiny lanterns, and the fragrance of street food, Sarai heard, “It’s been centuries…” Aliskra’s faint voice distorted, “…perhaps millennia…since we had this much fun.”

Spark! — Seated face-to-face with Aliskra, Sarai’s attention was drawn to plates of sushi, sashimi, steamed rice bowls, beef, and other tempting dishes.

“The food in this age is so good!” Aliskra spoke with a full mouth.

Sarai felt his lips curl upward as he watched her pale face flush with joy. He turned his head left, gazing at his reflection on the glass pavilion.

His hair was dyed dark violet.

Spark! — Flash! Sarai’s eyes opened upon a blurry reality.

W-What is… He was lying on his back, surrounded by white walls that were barely visible. The room was dimly lit.

Huh…?! His eyes widened at a surprising sight!

Aliskra was straddling his bare chest, her red dress barely clinging to her skin.

“My god! Poor little beacon of hope is waking up.” Her eyes were as dark as the night sky, her pale cheeks reddened like a cherry, and her sweat was shining like holy water.

N-No way… What did she do to me… Sarai almost screamed as understanding dawned on him.

“Aaa…Aaaa—Mmmmm—

“Shuuuush. Stay silent, little boy.” Aliskra shut his mouth, his tears landing on her hand.

“You’re a tough one. Don’t ruin our fun again.” Her smile faded into an intimidating expression.

“Now, back to sleep.”

“Actually…”

“Now that I remember.” She reached out to Sarai’s face with her right hand. “Let’s take care of your right eye. We don’t want that woman spying on us.”

As her palm reached his right eye, Sarai felt a cold void bloom behind his right socket, as if the eye had never existed. And by the time her palm covered it, that feeling peaked.

Half-blind, he gave up on understanding his situation and collapsed back into slumber.

Kyoto—Higashiyama Ward

On the second floor of an aging machiya surrounded by temples and old townhouses, Kurose sat motionless, his fingers buried in his brown hair, his eyes lost in the stack of papers and photos that arrogantly filled his desk.

Beside him sat a dusty radio. “TCHHH—The origin of the global broadcast is yet to be known… KCHHH—and the Faithful rebellions are increasing tremendously. Tokyo’s Edogawa Ward and Ōta Ward are collapsing; the majority of civilians have already evacuated.”

The radio’s distorted, noisy sound echoed through the room’s gloom. It was a colorless room, its shut windows barely allowing any light to seep in, turning it into a grave for a man who already resembled a corpse.

“The European Union’s BND division had already cleared Paris and Munich… ZSSST—…America and Russia are demanding backup…” As the muffled news swam into his troubled mind, Kurose leaned back in his uncomfortable chair.

He raised his head, his puffy eyes gazing at the ceiling festooned with dusty webs. “Why is France suddenly calming down? Same for Germany. The two had the worst downfall just this week…” He sighed, rubbing his itchy facial hair.

“Weird. Utterly weird.” As he fell into the habit of speaking to himself, Kurose closed his eyes.

Uneventful minutes passed before he suddenly surged forward, slamming his desk.

He gnashed his teeth, staring down at the photos.

A dark purple-haired young man, his eyes hidden beneath a faint shadow, appeared in all of them. Warehouses, underground ruins, and sewer channels formed the background of most of the photos.

In the past two weeks, a tremendous number of deaths had occurred within Mafia and Faithful organizations. This man is the primary suspect. Kurose clenched his fists.

Bold enough to challenge international Faithful powers like ‘The Yokai’… He had destroyed many of their undercover Mafia, the last being ‘Jashin.’

The problem was that all of this had happened shortly after the cave incident and…

A lump formed in his throat.

…there are three kids from the incident who look extremely alike… But despite sharing the exact features as this mysterious figure, none of them had purple hair… His gaze shifted slightly to the left, examining an article titled “Primary Suspects for the Cave’s Missing Child.”

Hayato Ken… Akira Ryuu… Sarai Kanazaki… The examination results were very similar but incomplete. The murderer made sure to mess the bodies up as much as possible. Also, the erasure of the soldiers' bodies is an entire mystery itself…

Could the missing child be the murderer? Just who’s this purple-haired figure? Is this possibly related to a Faithful phenomenon?

Manic laughter forced its way out of Kurose’s dry throat. A desperate one? No, clearly not. It was one that carried the weight of flawed passion, the kind to bestow one with his own doom.

“TCHHH… In response to the deaths of many American politicians, Japan’s prime minister sent a few BND agents to help in California, the biggest name being ‘The Atheist of Dawn’… What did you say? Oh?? ZSSSTT—B-Breaking news! After having suffered tremendous damage, ‘The Infants of Lilith’ are said to be retreating to Asia—”

THUMP! In a sudden loss of calm, Kurose sent the radio flying with a kick.

“Great. The prime minister sent our agents, leaving me and a couple of others to take care of this fucking mess! And what’s more than this? The whore Lilith is flying here,” he yelled, collapsing back into his chair.

“How am I supposed to focus on the case now? It’s been years since I had a challenging one like this.” He closed his eyes once again, drowning in thought.

Guess I have no choice.

He opened his narrow eyes, stood, and walked around his desk.

Each step carried a weight he could barely bear.

Thud!

It’s fine to use some help…

Thud!

I’m not cheating…

Thud!

It’s only fair this way…

He paused, gazing at his dusty reflection in an old mirror.

Only his face was fractured by the cracked glass.

“I know you can see me.”