"Take him with you when you leave."
Take… me?
At first, Noel was unsure whether Elias was speaking about a third party, until he realized he was the only third individual in the room.
Exile's eyes turned to him for a moment, his hand gripping a cane that had been compressed and taken out from a pouch that carried countless tools.
"Lady, a boy? Tell me, lady—should I tell the Emperor that you gave me a boy to a bullet's playground instead of coming with me?"
Unacknowledging his words, Elias leaned back.
"Did you call me for mere appearances before the Emperor then? An excuse? Not for the good of the Empire?"
Exile did not reply, but his hand on the cane turned white, his knuckles more visible before relaxing.
"That is not so, Lady. You misunderstand, it seems."
Noel's blood pressure rose slightly as he carefully treaded, choosing the correct and proper timing for interruption.
"Mrs. Elias… are you talking about me?"
Elias did not reply, yet her actions spoke volumes—her tongue deemed unnecessary as she stood up from her chair.
"He will do what I cannot. Because he will act when I hesitate."
For the first time, Exile's wrinkled face darkened slightly, yet his eyes did not change—as if they were dead. Deader than the dead.
"And when have you ever hesitated after all this time? Is that not an excuse?"
Elias did not respond. She merely walked toward a bookshelf that held only one or two books in white and black, pulling the former out with her pale fingertips. She tucked her hair behind her ears as she opened a certain page, leaning against the shelf. Her eye color changed until her iris and pupil turned white—a white pupil within her slightly less white eyes, mesmerizing.
"My words are done. You can leave. With Noel. And Noel, join him in his career. Perhaps you will learn one thing, or two, or perhaps three."
"The Null Manuscript. Should you return after three years of playing, I will tell you why you came to this world. But should you not return, then the deal will be called off."
Noel's heart shook as he subtly understood her implied words.
His first impression was incorrect. He was simply too naïve to understand—no, to believe. He desperately wanted to believe he was merely dreaming, that he was under the influence of an external factor. A drug.
But he was dawned with his new reality.
Wait. Wait. Wait.So this is… this is real…?
Denial—a defensive mechanism for those whose minds cannot cope with certain actions or experiences.
But denial can only bring humans so far. For what comes after denial?
Acceptance.
The human mind cannot remain in constant denial; hence, it collapses.
So everything I experienced is real? Coming to this world? I really died?
Meeting an insane man with a newspaper, being a teacher to three students, getting lost, talking to Elias, finding myself in the library—was all of this real? So I really died?
And came back from death? Battlefield? What battlefield?
This isn't a… a dream…?
No way.
His thoughts were disorganized as he lost his anchor to reality, his left eye twitching as he felt his pulsing heartbeat. He reached out, pressing a hand to his throbbing temple.
Nothing… was making sense.Nothing.Literally nothing.
He who feared death the most had actually died? It wasn't just a dream where he jumped off a skyscraper?
No. No. NO!
Badump.Badump.Badump.Badum—
His mind wandered to memories from Earth—people he had promised to meet the very next day.
Friends.Lovers.His warm home.His old yet trusty phone.
And most of all—
The game he always pla… yed?
Noel's eyes widened as he recalled the last sentences he read on the screen.
So this was all because of the game? Impossible.
Yet he could not deny his reality.
"Ah, Exile. I have one last thing to add before you go off playing."
Noel's reddening eyes turned toward the source of the voice he least wanted to hear—the voice he instinctively knew.
The asymmetry of the world.Why he was chosen for this role.
It began to make sense.
But instead of clearing his mind, it made it worse.
He raised his aching eyes, pained by merely looking at his new reality—the sounds, the smells, all of it.
And most of all—
"Keep an eye on Noel, lest he accidentally commits a mistake."
Elias's expression, which had remained stoic, locked onto Noel's trembling pupils.
"On purpose."
His vision went white.
++++++
(?) — And the Shepherd cried, "For what sins was I punished for?"And its response was:"For you were never mistaken, never a mistake, never sinned, never a sin."["You were a mere wolf in shepherd's clothing, a lamb in snow—not wool."]
— Null