Cold sensation of power resting near his heart....
That symbol," Kalvin instructed, "will be the key to our communication. When you are alone and in need, tap that rhythm on your chest: one long, two short, one long. And then, pray to the Mysterious Ruler. I will guide you and, through you, I will send strength. Now, rise, Alik, and begin your mission. Your city's suffering ends only when you act."
With a silent, mental command, Kalvin severed their connection.
Return to Sunlight City
Alik found himself back in his small, dusty room, standing by the window. The oppressive, perpetual twilight of his cursed city filtered through the glass. The air was cold and stale. It had all happened in an instant, yet the feeling of the ethereal tear-mark on his soul was undeniably real. He pressed his hand against his chest, right where the symbol had fused. He wasn't afraid anymore. His fear had been replaced by a quiet, fervent purpose.
He looked out at the broken, monster-infested streets of Sunlight City. His heart swelled with a fierce, almost fanatical resolve.
Our god has abandoned us. But I have found another.
Alik left his window and walked out of his house. His steps were no longer those of a desperate man, but of a man with a secret, a covenant, and a terrifying, magnificent mission. His first destination: the town square, where the people gathered daily in their despair, whispering of the curse and the absent sun. He had to spread the word of the Mysterious Ruler.
Back in the House
In the small, broken house, Kalvin opened his eyes. He sat on his bed, the rhythm of his tapping teeth now silent. A faint smile touched his lips.
"A Disciple…" he murmured to himself. The energy that had been expended to create the soul-symbol was minimal, but the spiritual feedback he received from Alik's sudden, intense belief was a trickle of warm, restoring power. It wasn't enough to break the seal, but it was a beginning. A small, crucial piece of the restriction had been chipped away.
The more people believe in the 'Mysterious Ruler,' the more easily my own spirituality will integrate into this universe, and the more power I can draw from the belief.
He stood up, the weariness gone. The cafe was still his goal—to fulfill Astron's wish and give his sister Stella a beautiful life. But now, he had an external project, one that would simultaneously protect his sister and increase his own power. He had just laid the first stone of his new church, a religion of convenience and power built on the desperation of a cursed city.Kalvin walked over to the door, his mind already shifting from the Blue Mist to the mundane market road. The cafe wouldn't open itself. He needed money, and he needed a clear head.
"Let's see what the market has for me today. Although I have visited here already, but for another purpose," he said, stepping out, leaving the weight of his royal throne and his new Disciple behind him for the time being.
Kalvin stepped out of the broken house and into the late afternoon sun, which cast long, tired shadows down the market road. The air was thick with the smells of stale fish, woodsmoke, and a hint of the perpetual dampness of Everland. He'd been so consumed with the Blue Mist, his 'Mysterious Ruler' persona, and the immediate financial necessity of the cafe that he'd forgotten the immediate reality: his meeting with the Nexus organization was not just about getting a job; it was his first step into the local power structure.
"I need to look the part," he muttered, adjusting the collar of his simple, dark shirt. The five gold coins a week from James Smith's organization were more than enough to establish the café and fulfill his promise to Stella, but he also had to establish a cover that didn't scream 'sudden wealth.' A cafe was perfect—a steady, if modest, source of income and a perfect front for a detective.
He walked with a new purpose toward the commercial district of Everland, his mind already formulating a mental blueprint for his cafe.
The Sleuth's First Step
Kalvin found himself in a cleaner, less-crowded part of the city, where the buildings were taller and the windows sparkled. As he walked past a brick building with a simple, unmarked wooden door, the special rhythm of his right-side tooth vibrated: a short, quick pulse, followed by a second, almost instantaneous one. It was the subtle alarm James Smith had told him about—a signal that he was being observed by a Nexus.
He didn't flinch. Instead, he stopped by a shop window displaying fashionable hats and pretended to examine a round, black derby, the very kind the officers wore.
"I trust you've had a restful day, Mr. Astron," a cool, smooth voice said from behind him.
Kalvin turned, a polite, slightly surprised expression on his face. Standing there was a tall, lean man in a dark-gray suit—not the black coat of the police-impersonators, but clearly one of James Smith's circle. The man had sharp, calculating eyes and carried a thin cane.
"And you are?" Kalvin asked, maintaining a calm demeanor.
The man smiled, a gesture that didn't reach his eyes. "My name is not important right now. Smith sent me to facilitate your transition. The cafe is arranged."
Kalvin raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the speed. "Already? That was remarkably efficient."
"The Nexus organization is nothing if not efficient," the man replied. "The premises are in a respectable, though not overtly wealthy, part of the city. A small deposit has been paid, and the former owner was persuaded to vacate immediately. It's a clean slate, Mr. Astron. It will be officially registered as a café-and-tea house under your name by tomorrow morning."
The ease with which they manipulated the local economy was chilling, a clear sign of their hidden power.
"And the starting funds?" Kalvin asked.
"Five gold coins, your first weekly salary, have been wired through an untraceable account to a local bank. You can withdraw the funds tomorrow morning under the pretense of a loan you've secured for the venture. A forged document confirming this loan will be provided to you." The man handed Kalvin a small, rolled-up piece of parchment tied with twine. "A small gift from Mr. Smith—the keys to your new establishment, and the address."
Kalvin took the parchment and tucked it into his pocket. "Tell Mr. Smith I appreciate his thoroughness. I assume there's a first task to follow?"
"Indeed," the man said, his eyes now intent. "The Sleuth Pathway is not a passive one. Your current tier is low, but the pathway often manifests its ability to its users through dreams or sudden, profound intuitions. Mr. Smith requires you to visit the cafe before you set up shop. The previous owner left something behind, something he didn't even know he had. Your first task is to simply find it. It should be obvious to an Oracle."
With that, the man gave a curt nod, turned, and smoothly disappeared into the light market traffic. Kalvin was left standing alone, a set of keys and a mystery in his pocket. Find what the previous owner didn't know he had. He felt a familiar, subtle pull in his soul—the Nexus power stirring, aligning with his new purpose.
The Hidden Clue
Following the address on the parchment, Kalvin found the café in a quiet, two-story building on the edge of the commercial district. It was small but well-maintained, with a large glass window and a simple sign that read, "The Empty Mug." The moment he stepped inside, the unique aroma of old wood, dust, and, faintly, burnt sugar, hit him....