The next few hours until full nightfall, or maybe a bit longer. Who's counting now, when the clock hands seem to have fled along with common sense?
We'll try to find the right book to help translate those lines.
Yeah, just find one among thousands. One. The only. The needed. What's so hard?
If not for everything that happened, the murders, the awakenings, the witch, the library, maybe we'd already know what those symbols hide.
But... didn't I know from the start it would be like this? Could she... really not want us to know the translation? Does the witch have a taste for dramaturgy?
Plenty of options, zero answers. I'm no fortune teller, but I'm sure she wrote them after killing Gerudo with her own hands. And if I want to clear Enua, the first step is decryption.
Simple, right? Almost like "find a needle in book hell."
Though... if it's her move, the witch's move, gotta admit, it's elegant. Not for show, but with intent, and intent might hide a trap. A trap for the mind, for logic, for us.
While the participants crowded near the library, waiting for the servants searching for the door key, I... pondered.
Details.
Grimoires.
How long we'll search.
Now, of course, it's easier. I'm the only one whose memory doesn't wipe after restart.
The others? Victims. Cyclic, reborn victims who don't even know they died. Not very inspiring, right?
While I drowned in thoughts, Morgana and Cheryl approached. Key in hand.
"Here, we brought the key," Morgana said with slight anxiety, clutching it as if it wasn't metal, but a secret.
And really, a secret. Because, as said before, a key alone isn't enough. The door is enveloped in magic, between the 10th and 11th dimension.
"Alright, let me take the key. I'll open it," Yahweh said, already reaching.
"Wait, let me try to open the door."
Aragi's voice cut through the tension. All eyes on him.
(What, surprised?)
Felt like he suggested not opening the door, but slicing reality.
"Huh? Does it matter who opens it?" Yahweh asked.
"Of course not, but let me do it."
Words without argument, but with subtext. Yahweh looked at Hov, he responded wordlessly. And everything became clear.
"Fine, here," Yahweh handed it.
Passed.
Stepped back.
Yielded.
My turn now, I inserted the key. Turned, pushed. The door felt like it weighed a ton, but I opened it anyway. In that moment, I and the other me split.
The witch told the truth. The vampiress's power is real. Thanks, big breasts.
We're in the library again. Now with Enua, help at minimum. Alibi at maximum.
He won't leave the room; that's the plan. We agreed back in the bedroom. The other participants don't believe, but tolerate, because at night, it's not truth that matters, but safety.
"And remember, not all grimoires are safe," Morgana's voice rang. "Some emit energy..."
Yes, we remember. Some books hiss when touched, some whisper. And some look back at you.
Teams work separately.
Me with Enua.
Morgana with Cheryl.
Hov and Yahweh together.
Kamiki and Tiamut separately.
"Listen, I have a question for you..." Yahweh began. "Why did you decide I should let Aragi open the door? Does it matter?"
"Maybe yes, maybe no. I can't give you an answer. But... I felt it."
Yahweh looked, with a gaze that asks instead of words.
"Surprised you understood with one look," Hov said with a light, barely audible smile in his voice.
"It's... from those times. Where words don't work, and hands are silent, feelings remain," Yahweh said with light optimism.
"Smells of the past. Bad, but important."
They fell silent. Sank into themselves, like a deep pool of memories.
"Tell me... why did you agree to participate in this game?"
Unexpected, but understandable question from Yahweh.
...
"The witch couldn't force us, only resurrect."
"Hard to disagree with someone like you, Yahweh. I'm here... for an answer. For saving my wife."
"Guresu... died?"
"After childbirth."
Words.
Pain.
Attempt to understand the impossible.
"I didn't stop. Came here to get what I wasn't given then," Hov said, voice full of guilt. "And you?"
"You already know why I'm here," Yahweh said shortly but clearly.
"Then... let's promise each other we'll return alive!"
"Of course. I'm the Hero of the past, after all! Aha-ha-ha!" Yahweh said with a smile evoking old memories.
Time: 10 at night.
Several hundred books everywhere.
Every face tired, every heart uncertain. Me? I just want a drink.
But go out? No way.
"You okay?" Enua asked.
"All good," I replied.
Morgana, hearing that, approached immediately.
"You sure you're okay?"
"Sure. Honestly, almost."
She still went for water, with Cheryl.
I wanted to stop... but didn't. Why? Because I believe, because I'm stupid. Because I trust her fists.
While I think nonsense. Here it is, the trait the vampiress hates in me. Anyway, Morgana brought water. I drank and poured some on myself.
"Thanks."
"No need."
Her face flushed, maybe from gratitude, maybe from water. If asked what happiness is... I'd say: happiness is when surrounded by beauties with ample breasts.
Night.
Thousands of books, still not the one. Some grimoires. Others textbooks on medicine, geography, who knows what.
But suddenly a shout.
It was Yahweh.
"We found the book we need!"
And as if everything else vanished.