The Fool was asleep, but life went on.
There were many things to do in preparation for the apocalypse. In order to better serve their god and protect the ones they cared about, the Tarot Club had continued to advance and carry out their missions around the world, all the while nursing hope in their hearts. Someday, they knew, 'He' would wake up, and a new grand performance would begin.
So when their visions suddenly filled with crimson, it was not fear they felt, but joy.
In the Empress Borough of Backlund, the Hall family was sitting down for dinner.
Alfred Hall looked at his loved ones, satisfied. Fighting madness day after day and surviving that hell known as war was all worth it just to be able to be here with everyone he cared about: his two doting parents, his brother Hibbert, and his sister Audrey, who was called "the most dazzling gem of Backlund". A title she was worthy of, he thought with pride.
Unfortunately, she was also the source of the only current problem in his life. After seeing so many of his comrades lose control - practically losing control himself - how could he be happy to know that his precious sister was a Beyonder? A Sequence 7, no less! He tried to take comfort in the fact that she seemed to have heeded his warnings seriously, but he couldn't help but worry...
As if on cue, Audrey looked at him and laughed. "Dear brother, what are so worried about? You look like you've swallowed a lemon!"
Alfred blinked. Hadn't he hidden himself well? Ah, right, she's of the Spectator pathway... He let out a helpless laugh. "I was just thinking of how much you've grown up."
"Really?" Audrey's eyes lit up. She puffed her chest out with pride. "I think it must be the new perfume I bought - a certain friend of mine who often travels gave it to me and said it was from Intis! I always feel very worldly and mature when I wear it..."
Earl Hall and Hibbert laughed at the girl's antics. Caitlyn simply smiled as Audrey continued to talk about the various places her friend had traveled to.
Alfred leaned back in his chair, content. Perhaps I was wrong, he thought fondly. She hasn't changed at all...
At that moment, crimson light flooded his vision.
His battle instincts kicked in, but there was nothing he could do. The last thing he saw was the alarmed expressions of his family - and Audrey's face which had drained of all emotion, like a goddess watching impartially from above.
A boy no older than three or four licked at an ice cream cone happily.
Aaron Ceres looked at his son with a complicated expression. As a surgeon and doctor, he couldn't approve of Will's near-constant sugar intake. On the other hand, he'd performed several checkups on Will, and had others in his medical circle examine Will as well, and his sugar levels appeared to be perfectly normal - which was strange in and of itself. Where was he getting all that ice cream from, anyway?
This abnormality was only one of the few odd things he'd noticed about his son. For instance, how Will had silver hair and golden eyes, traits that couldn't have come from either Aaron or his wife. Or how Aaron's luck had dramatically increased soon after Will was born. If not for the luck-based anomaly he'd suffered before the birth of his son, at the hands of a boy of the same name, Aaron easily could have dismissed these things as coincidences.
Well, it should be fine... Aaron thought. What am I thinking? This is my child. It's best not to pry into these matters.
"Klein, you jerk..."
Having let his thoughts wander, Aaron was snapped out of his reverie by the sleepy voice of his son. He looked back to where Will was sitting. The boy had drifted asleep in the grass, ice cream fallen to the ground. Aaron let his lips twitch, imagining how upset Will would be about that when he woke up.
Who is Klein? An imaginary friend, perhaps? Aaron wondered. He gently scooped up his sleeping child and went inside the house. All the while, Will's eyelids fluttered, as if he were having an unpeaceful dream.
In Feynapotter, a bronze-skinned man sat in a cafe writing on a piece of paper.
"...Your mentor and friend, Azik Eggers."
Just as he was about to sacrifice the letter, his gaze turned into an endless field of crimson.
Oracle Danitz sat in the pews of the Church of the Fool with an unusually contemplative expression.
Dogshit... He cursed. Why does have an Oracle have so many responsibilities? This is the first time I've been able to sit down all day. Well, it's befitting of a lord such as myself... still, it's all Gehrman Sparrow's fault! That son of a bitch!
As he continued to curse a certain crazy adventurer, his sight suddenly flashed crimson.
In a mausoleum on a primitive island, a Dark Emperor sat on his throne, trapped in eternal slumber.
Suddenly, a sigil on the back of his chair began to glow. A pupil-less eye representing secrets. Contorted lines representing change. The symbol grew brighter and brighter until the shadowy figure was enveloped in its light. Slowly, the Emperor's eyes began to open.
The first and last thing he saw was crimson.
Bernadette sat in her cabin in the Golden Dream with a newspaper in front of her. As she read, her eyebrows began to raise.
The "Queen of Stars" has been gaining notoriety lately... it won't be long before that girl catches up to me.
In the privacy of her own room, she allowed herself to smile. If there was one thing in this cruel and maddening world that Bernadette was proud of, it was Cattleya. She had grown so much from the small child that used to look up to Bernadette in awe.
As pride and nostalgia bloomed in her chest, her thoughts turned in a familiar direction. The smile began to fade. She drew her body into itself and softly whispered:
"Father..."
Through the film of tears that had begun to form, she barely noticed the crimson light surrounding her.
Benson and Melissa Moretti sat in their apartment, sharing a meal and talking.
They'd both witnessed much suffering in the war. But they had survived; Benson had even gotten married. Now, even though they'd lost so much, they were just happy to have each other.
"I can't believe it." Benson shook his head. "My sister, who never believed in mysticism, part of the mystic world... what did you say you were called again?"
"Savant. It's the sequence 9 of the Artisan Beyonder pathway," Melissa answered.
"...I don't know what half of those words mean."
Melissa smiled. "It just means that I'm not at a level where I'll face much danger. I don't plan on advancing further. I only became a Beyonder to become better with machinery, anyway."
"That's good. I trust you to make your own choices, Melissa." Benson reached out and gently held his sister's hand. "But... please be careful."
Silence passed over the room. Unconsciously, both of their gazes moved to a third seat at the table, where a person had once sat.
"I will," Melissa said hoarsely.
Benson nodded and squeezed her hand. The wound that left behind by their brother had yet to fully heal. Maybe it never would. But they had each other, Benson reminded himself, and that would never change.
At that moment, the simple dining table disappeared from their sight, replaced by endless crimson.
In the astral world, a goddess sat among flowers. She plucked a night vanilla flower from the ground and brought it to her veiled face.
The appearance of the crimson light did not surprise her. Her lips curved into a frown, her concealed expression becoming solemn, but nevertheless, she let herself be enveloped by the light.
In Sefirah Castle, a man sat in the throne of the Fool. He wore a hooded robe and felt indescribably ancient.
He was not Klein Moretti.