「Hint: Seek not what time devours, but what it fails to claim. For it is where the names chosen not to be spoken are kept carved in wood. 」
Carnage's gaze drifts over the letters etched into the Covenant's slab. Each of the sinners stares out in confusion, trying to understand its context.
"Not what time devours." Carnage thinks deeply, straining to uncover a link between the passage and his current situation.
"Like to eat?" Artticus asks, receiving a cold 'What do you think?' look from the rest of the group. "My bad; in my realm education wasn't given to us for free." He backs off.
"Really?" Flor is dumbfounded. "An education was given to a child at the ripe age of five in ours. It's a must if you wish not to be demoted to a lower realm."
"Well, princess, not all the realms are privileged." Ernest says his tone is deep. "There's a structured hierarchy for a reason. The tops stay above, and the bottoms stay beneath them; it is not created for us to ascend to newer heights. You follow that rule, or you die."
The rest of them look on, heads lowering to that simple truth.
"Why care?" Carnage's uncaring attitude toward their little realization solidifies it. "We're all heretics now. We all are going against the gods' rule. The only path ahead is death, glory, or revenge."
His words are like a boulder, crashing down any hope some of them might have of returning.
"Unfortunately, he happens to be correct." Agnar approaches Carnage's side. "We stand as enemies of the heavens and of Coronach. This is the path you choose." She turns to him. "Have you deciphered anything of the text?"
"It's time." Carnage begins. "The first part of the text directly links to the effect time has on this place. It means, search for the places where the stoppage isn't affected."
"You're right." Ernest adjusts his specs and joins their side.
Soon the others joined their circle, Flor being the last, a bit hesitant.
"Do ya have any more information on the rest of the riddle?"
"No-"
"Bloody hell… I've got it! It's finally coming back to me!" Ernest interjects, the initial worry in his gaze giving way to the shine of delight. "Where the stoppage is ineffective, we would find the name of the village, in the form of letters, I hope." He steps forward, thinking to himself deeply before continuing. "Hence why they said, 'carved in wood,' christ… it was relatively easy to understand."
The sinners stand like rocks, slightly embarrassed that it was that easy of an answer.
"Ya may have expected more of a complicated answer." Articus breaks out into a snicker, and they all follow suit.
First a soft chuckle from Flor and Agnar, then a wheezing giggle from Evrad, and finally a full-on, shoulders-shaking laugh from Artticus, who nearly topples over. Carnage deadpanned stares.
'It's been so long… since I have laughed, really laughed. If only I wasn't tainted with the true horrors of death and torture, then maybe just maybe I would have been able to laugh so lightheartedly.'
"Did you remember anything else?" Carnage wastes no time, eyes glued to the time limit that's rapidly decreasing. "Laughing can wait."
"Oh yes!" Ernest gathers himself by clearing his throat. "From my rejuvenated memories, I was reawakened to the fact that this dimension of purgatos relies on identity; it's one of the publicly known facts among archivons."
"I don't quite follow." Flor says.
"It was right in front of us from the beginning." He explains. "The personas function as masks, replacing one's former self with an imposed identity. Every rule in this place is structured around the importance of identity or power. As I mentioned before, when a village loses its history, it loses its identity. That loss is what halts the flow of time. Time constructs identity; without it, existence collapses into… well… nothing."
'That's why it felt awfully similar to what's happening to me.'
"So ya saying all of this is the cause of forgetting a village's history?"
"Correcto." Ernest affirms. "Now, we just have to find the letters and their reasons for burying their entire history just to stop time." He spins. "Did anyone notice anything moving other than villagers?"
"Nope, only old trees, stone, and an annoying raven." Artticus grumbles.
'A raven?'
"Was it making noise?" Carnage inquires.
"A lot; the damned thing wouldn't shut it!" He pauses inwardly, wishing his stone had found its mark and ended the incessant chirp. "Gosh, it was so fuss—" He trails off, spotting their change in demeanor, and gradually realizes that it was a hint. "I guess... you can call it moving right?" He embarrassingly shrugs.
"You see now why men earn my hatred?" Agnar nudges Flor.
"Where?" Carnage calmly interrogates.
"C-come on, I'll show you the way!"
.
.
.
"So ya saying they take the form of humans too?" Artticus's eyes bulge from their sockets. "When I saw it, it was a massive-ass four legged furry thing with horns!"
"It wasn't a human?" Flor inquires.
"Nope." He shakes his head.
"A human in this place would be unnatrual." Ernest explains. "It needed to look as natural as possible to its surronding, which means it's smarter than it appears."
'It is. One of the reasons why they choosed to 'eradicate' it.'
Their footsteps crunch against the grass, the floor no longer muddy but dry the hold of the stoppage is leisurely weakening.
Nevertheless, as their walk prevailed through the forest, flor eyes remained cemented to the busted up soles of Carnage's feets, the better part of herself tries to ignore it, but the physician in coursing in her veins can't help but question.
"Aren't your feet hurting? I can use one of my basic healing potions if it becomes too painful." She suggests.
"No need." He replies swiftly. "It's your life that is in harm's way and i'd rather we not waste valuable healing potions on my feet."
"Pardon the intrusion, but she does have a point, Carnage." Ernest says. "It looks unbearable."
"Pain is a simple function easy to turn off. I've learned how to for many years now so it isn't affecting me." He answers flatly.
Ernest stares for a beat before responding. "Turn it off?"
Agnar flinches for a second, hearing his explanation. "Just like that?" She asks, the words slipping out despite her will.
Carnage nods, "Precisely."
"That's exceptional," Flor says. "In my realm, humans are severely weak; they wail from minor scratches which reforged our entire history into the profession of medicine."
"In mines, pain is used as momentum." Agnar adds. "That's why the women who picked up the sword was greatly frowned upon, since we are perceived as fragile and only carriers of kin."
Carnage neither thanks nor denies their compliments and praises.
They may have seen it as something amazing, and it would be in a different context; nevertheless, in this one, it wasn't. He needed to learn it; he needed to master the art of severing the hold pain had over his body and consciousness.
It was another one of his mechanisms to keep him from breaking, and sometimes it still wasn't able to cancel out the pain of every one of his deaths.
"I would like to end this conversation right here." Carnage voices.
"Look! We're here!" Artticus chimes loudly, and instantly the sound of squawking echoes.
"We're here!" The cow mocks.
"Ya damned bird!" Artticus shouts back and it copies him again.
"Christ, look at the size of that thing." Ernest whispers.
All their eyes trail up the large tree, the rest paling in comparison, their sights landing on the jet-black raven perched on one of its highest branches, peering at them.
"Goddamn bird!" Artticus squeezes his fist, pointing it towards it as a threat, and it mocks him again.
"It looks like a normal tree?" Agnar voices searching for its roots. "But vastly larger."
"Maybe behind it or something?" Flor moves behind, seeing nothing. "Then where the hell is it?"
"Perhaps I may be able to use my glasses." Ernest suggests, and he blinks, and it activates. "Let's see." Moving slowly, his gaze sweeps from the ground to the gnarled root, then up the length of the tree. "There's a box inside of it." He stops, eyes locked on the glowing box embedded in the middle of the tree.
"Within the tree." Carnage is about to ask Agnar to hit it down but is intercepted.
"It's too large." Agnar replies sharply. "The bark is thicker than the other." Her knuckles tap the bark. "One would need more than the power of five men to bring it down, or a sword." She says in defeat.
'Then what other options do we have…'
"Evrad." Ernes deactivates his glasses, studying the quiet boy standing at the side. "He did say he can copy, right, so prove it."
'I forgot about him.'
All eyes fix on him, and he sighs, shaking his head before joining them. "I can do it."
"Good. That should be enough power, right?" Artticus inquires, yet Ernest doesn't look satisfied.
'Hm.' Carnage picks up on it but stays quiet only observing.
"I guess it should be enough." Agnar approaches the tree, Evrad at her side. "There's only one way to find out."
The gentle green glow flares again around her, and quickly she shows him a quick punch mid air for him to copy. Evrad takes a minute, measuring every line of her posture, every contraction of muscle, like reading a map of strength. Afterwards, with a confirmation nod, they near closer to the spot with Ernest's directions, stopping at arm's length.
Slowly, Evrad's muscles tense and contort, mirroring Agnar's in her current boosted state.
'interesting.'
In perfect sync, they both draw back their fists and launch forward, air crackling around them as they slam into the tree. A hollow boom ripples outward before the trunk splinters, cracks, and crumbles, revealing a hovering black box.
「First box revealed!」
Safely, it drifts down into Evrad's waiting hands. The others are already moving to him, but he hardly acknowledges them. His fingers trace the engraved edges with slow, possessive care, a flicker of hunger in his eyes, before he hooks a thumb under the lid and tries to pry it open.
「-The black box is sealed, unable to open-」
Evrad grits his teeth.
'This is where this comes in.' Carnage looks down at the tattoo.