It felt... wrong. The previous owner, he surmised, was a creature of habit and simplicity. The counter was worn, the tables were basic, and the walls were a pale, unremarkable yellow.
Kalvin closed his eyes, centering himself. He wasn't looking for a document or a strongbox. He was looking for something that a Nexus of the Sleuth Pathway would notice, something a regular man would overlook. He let the subtle, golden warmth of the Nexus power flow through him.
He moved slowly, his heightened senses taking in the room. He ran his hand over the worn wooden counter, feeling a vague impression—not an object, but a feeling of loss. He checked under tables, behind shelves, but found nothing unusual.
Something the owner didn't know he had...
He finally stopped at the back of the room, near a small, rusty back door that probably led to an alley. On the wall beside it, mounted slightly crookedly, was a cheap, printed poster of a seaside village, vibrant but unremarkable.
As his gaze settled on it, a powerful jolt went through him. His sight momentarily blurred, and in that split second, the image in his mind changed. He didn't see the poster; he saw a faded, almost invisible scratch mark etched into the wall beneath it, and a profound sense of concealment washed over him.
He stepped forward, pulled the picture off the wall, and there it was—a tiny, almost imperceptible scratch, no bigger than his thumbnail, where the plaster had been chipped away. He pressed against the wall near the scratch and felt the plaster give slightly.
He was right. The Sleuth Pathway worked through subtle psychic suggestions and a hyper-awareness of what was out of place.
He found a thin knife in a drawer and carefully worked around the scratch. After a few minutes, a small, tightly rolled-up piece of parchment came free. It was not sealed, and the paper was brittle with age.
Kalvin unrolled it under the dim light of the back room. It was not a map, nor was it a letter. It was a single sheet of paper, covered in precise, intricate drawings of mechanical gears, pistons, and springs. At the bottom, in small, perfect script, were three words:
"The Clockwork Heart."
He re-rolled the drawing, his mind racing. This was likely the real reason the organization wanted the cafe. Was the former owner a disgruntled inventor? And what did a blueprint for a mysterious mechanism have to do with the Nexus? Ohh, from now on, I will handle this case, what a headache.
He needed to return to the Blue Mist. He needed more power to process this information. He needed his Disciple, Alik, to start believing in the Mysterious Ruler with greater fervor.
Kalvin discreetly tapped his tooth—twice slow, three times fast—and waited for the familiar pull of the blue mist. The room faded, and he found himself sitting once again on his royal throne, the blueprint of the Clockwork Heart now resting on the long, large table before him.
A faint, silvery-blue mist coalesced and flowed toward the paper. Kalvin directed his immense, albeit restricted, spiritual power into the drawing, attempting to pierce its meaning.
The Clockwork Heart. It is a Tier 7 Artifact. A key to an older world.
The thought was not his own, but a sudden, undeniable piece of knowledge infused into his mind, an unexpected benefit of the Sleuth Pathway—the ability to divine the true nature of an object. This wasn't just a machine; it was a potent artifact. This explained the Nexus interest.
He smiled, a true, satisfied smile. His two goals were beginning to align: his hidden work for the Nexus would lead to the recovery of powerful artifacts, and his Mysterious Ruler persona would slowly but surely draw power from the devotion of the faithful.
"My first item of interest is secured," he murmured to the silent, vast hall. "Now, let's check in on my first Disciple."
He focused his spiritual attention on the silver-blue tear symbol on Alik's soul.
The Harbinger of the Ruler
In the perpetual gloom of Sunlight City, Alik stood on a broken fountain in the main town square. The air was thick with desperation, and the few dozen people gathered below him looked like ghosts in the failing light.
He was shouting, his voice hoarse but filled with a new, fanatic conviction.
"Our God has abandoned us! The Sun is gone! The monsters come! But I tell you, there is another!"
A few people stared, but most looked away, tired of false hope.
"He is the one who answers when all others are silent! The one who is the Source of all Secrets and Wonders! He is the Mysterious Ruler!"
A grizzled old woman threw a rotten vegetable at him. "Silence, fool! Only the Evernight Goddess holds sway in this darkness! There are no others!"
Alik did not flinch. He pressed his hand to his chest, feeling the faint, cold sensation of the symbol, and with a new understanding, he tapped the rhythm: one long, two short, one long. And then, he prayed with a fervor that shook his bones:
"Mysterious Ruler, give me the strength to give them hope!"
As the connection was established in the Blue Mist, Kalvin watched through Alik's eyes. He saw the doubt, the despair, and the single, brilliant point of Alik's faith.
Kalvin raised his hand on the throne and, using a more precise, focused spiritual expenditure this time, sent a sliver of his power directly into the silvery-blue symbol on Alik's chest.
In Sunlight City, a single, brilliant, golden spark flared in Alik's hand. It wasn't the raw Nexus power, but a pure, untainted surge of divine energy.
Alik looked at his hand, then at the terrified faces of the crowd, and he smiled. It was a terrifying, magnificent smile of absolute power.
"Behold!" he roared, throwing the golden spark into the oppressive, dark sky. "The Ruler has answered! He is real! Believe!"
The golden light shot upward, piercing the twilight and exploding into a brief, magnificent shower of warm, vibrant sparks, momentarily pushing back the unnatural gloom. For the first time in months, the people of Sunlight City saw a true, warm light, and they gasped.
The faith is immediate and intense, Kalvin thought, feeling the influx of restorative spiritual energy. The seal is chipping away faster than I thought possible.
His first Disciple had proven his worth....