Noctis had fallen silent, the sight of the burnt corpse engraved in his half-open eyes. The half-opened eyes he wished so dearly to close.
But for now, he should not. It was simply too dangerous. He had to keep his eyes open for any newly arising threads. He was the only pathfinder of the small group. It was his job to keep an eye out for any lingering threats.
After all, his ability, which he had little to no control over, at most showed him one hour of a person's future fate, or at least the string's trajectory only went that far.
Who knew what else the mystical strings could reveal if he dared to look deeper?
But that was not important now. The question they would have to answer was whether they wanted to go any further.
All three of them stayed silent. None said a thing, while Noctis did his best to hide his growing discomfort.
"Oh wow… that does not look like a pleasant way to go."
Turning his head to the source of the relaxed voice, Noctis frowned lightly. She was taking the situation that he had led them into quite well.
Looking over to the left, Noctis saw that Lightning had a muffled reaction, to say it bluntly. Unlike Trisha, he seemed a bit more affected, but not nearly on the verge of being shocked, as his expression fluctuated between disgust and something that could be described as thoughtfulness or… Interest.
But whose interest? It didn't seem that he had such morbid interests, so why would he show interest in this case? Wanting to help the lost people? Maybe a little, but it didn't seem right. Why had he been sent to Abyss City in the first pla…
Shaking off the thought, it wasn't time to let his thoughts run wild to distract himself.
Lightning seemed okay with staying. That's all that was important.
Well, what could one expect? Such sights don't seem uncommon in Oracle, just like in Abyss City. If anything, the streets of Oracle were cleaner, the law somewhat more present, but violence still simmered beneath the surface. Shadows clung to the corners just as tightly, and the silence that followed a crime was just as heavy, only hidden behind more polished words. In Abyss City, brutality was the norm; its twisting alleys echoed with the cries of those who disappeared, and the stench of fear was more pungent, almost tangible. Noctis had noticed many small cues while working with Little Lightning, so he believed it might be a bit better in Oracle, but he simply couldn't believe it was much different.
In the end, it was all the same.
As for Nocits, he probably wouldn't react too strongly to seeing a corpse or two from time to time, but in this case the implications were the thing haunting him, not the gruesome sight.
Watching as Trisha neared the corpse on a maybe before all too comfortable seat, now torched and almost unrecognizable, just as the owner now was. She stopped a step away from the man, as her gaze wandered across the man or woman. By this point, it was difficult to tell.
Not interested in gawking at the deceased, the string that represented his life was long gone. Nocits stayed away from the dead man and walked over to the shelf he had gone through on his previous visit.
He no longer saw the lively bundle of strings clouding his vision, each book now in clear sight.
With fewer things to clutter his vision and occupy his thoughts, Nocits only now truly noticed the number of books gathered on the shelf for the first time.
It was a staggering amount. The man had to have been an avid reader or a great collector, as titles of all sorts came together to form this collection.
From documentaries to fantastical tales, everything could be seen. It would have been no understatement to say that this was his life's work and passion, or at least it would seem that way.
But this fortune was not Noctis ' purpose for coming here.
In all honesty, he could not quite understand this hoarding desire many held. It just seemed a waste of money and time. He had tried it and found little pleasure from it. Maybe they had been the wrong items to hoard, or the whole thing had been pointless from the beginning.
After wandering for a while, his eyes eventually landed on a singular red-rimmed book, tightly crammed between its brethren, placed around the height of Noctis' chest.
Its title had been worn off and was no longer distinguishable. The rivers of time truly made no distinctions between man and object.
He reached out to grab this red-rimmed book once more, just as he had during his last visit.
Last time he had been careful, trying to be gentle because of the Doctor's warning. This time Noctis saw no need to care. What use had the dead for trinkets?
At most, he would try to avoid leaving too many traces of his brief visit, which could be considered a mercy to the old man's legacy in a certain way. At least more of a legacy than the rats and vagrants that were going to steal the stuff.
No longer hesitating, Noctis' finger crammed above the vertically placed book as it carefully wiggled into the old papery texture, muffled by the glove separating skin from page.
He tugged first carefully, with the thought of preserving the book as best he could, then with a bit more force, noticing how deeply stuck it was.
Eventually Noctis mumbled, attracting the solemn gazes of the other two as his thumb began to crack the red texture of the book, his force increasing by the moment.
"Como… on! Uhh uhh Uagh…"
Noctis suddenly stumbled back foolishly, a torn book in hand, the cover and the text on its back unrecognizable.
Unable to hold his balance, Noctis, book in hand, slammed onto the hard floor with a thump, under the others' plain expressions.
Feeling embarrassment bubble up, Noctis quickly moved his less-than-sightly position into one, crossing his legs. Then, from there, he jumped up, his movements holding a certain flair.
"Ha ha… the floor has truly interesting markings covering it. You should take a look. Ahm, but not now."
Trembling under the two's silent disbelief, no disappointed, no MOCKING… or simply plain unreadable watchful eyes that had seen everything.
Before either of them could put into words and comment on Noctis' foolish conduct, or the abysmal excuse for it, a loud, grating sound drew everyone's gaze, the already somewhat on-edge instinctively going into an alert state.
The source of the sound was not difficult to discover. After all, the three's attention had already been drawn to it before the sound even started grunting throughout the room.
Watching in silence as the thick metal shelf slowly started to split and slide aside, revealing a flight of stairs leading to the dark and unlit.
When the shelf finally stopped, the three stayed silent for a few moments, staring at it in bewilderment.
The first to catch himself, surprisingly, was the creator of the chaos, Noctis, whose gaze started a frantic race through the room, in search of any changes. Quickly noticing no new gold strings had formed, he let out a sigh of relief.
It seemed the sound had attracted no one.
Well, the sudden bout of fear had been unfounded from the get-go. The strings would already have shown that someone would be attracted by the sound even if the sound had not yet rung out. It was just that Nocits had little idea of how the things around him would change, only able to guess from the future movements of those surrounding him, and himself aswell.
How would he be able to read the intricacies of the future? Objects had no life, nor strings attached to them, neither did their clothes or weapons. He could only barely see the silhouette of a person in the form of afterimages made of the strings originating from people's bodies, as of late.
It was a true guessing game from his perspective, especially when there were so few strings surrounding him.
Right now, only three: one from Trisha, another originating from Lightning, and the last drifted outward from Noctis's own chest.
From the looks of it, Lightning's string would keep the guy in his current position for a minute or two before it began drifting forward, stopped, and then started circling in about a radius of a meter.
Perplexed by the string's behavior, Noctis watched it for a few more moments as the string began to part not into differing futures but slowly forming a barely built human figure made of string, littered with gaps and far too thin to truly be a human. The sight seemed a bit comical.
The string had not shown that Little Lightning would just stand on the spot, like they did when circling on a very small spot, but that he was about to walk in circles, his barely distinguishable hand at his chin… He took a very thoughtful posture?
A bit perplexed by the actions, Noctis's gaze quickly left the distorted figure, the golden spark in his eyes a bit brighter than usualy, encompassed by a rising headache. Taking a look towards Trisha, her string did not stay on her position for long either, as it began forming a double of its own, which, just like the last, started following the line that it was made of.
Watching it, Nocits was surprised to see the figure vaguely resembling a golden stickman walk over, its hands waving in front in some indecipherable movements, as if explaining or trying to get someone's attention. A sudden last movement made its movements seize for a few seconds before it started pointing towards the corpse.
Walking over to the corpse in hurried steps, encompassed by a less defined thread of fate, Nocits watched, completely absorbed by the scene, as the more defined stick figure started to wave its hands once more as if to explain.
Bang!
A biting pain ran through his cheek.
He slowly turned his head back towards an upset Trisha, who was currently pinching his cheek.
Nocits asked in confusion, at the same time freeing himself from her grasp.
"What is it?"
First befuddled, then seemingly enraged, Trisha underwent clashing and vastly differing emotions in the blink of an eye. When she finally spoke, her tone held a certain gravity to it that Noctis did not know of her.
"We have to leave."
Looking at her, still just as bewildered as before, Noctis remembered that he was the only one to see the strings, as he tried to explain.
"There won't be anyone coming anytime soo…"
"That's not important. That man in the chair had been tortured."
Falling silent, Noctis's gaze landed on the figure of the burned person barely resembling the kind man he once met.
"All along his body, there are things indicating it, even if someone tried to scorch them all away. Whoever did this is no normal thief. The technique is far too skilled for that, and there is only one organization capable of doing so in this abysmal city! The inquisitors of the royal guard."
Walking over, Nocits followed the thread coming from his body, as he watched Trisha point towards the scorched man's nails, which appeared to have been torn off.
The tongue that was now charred but seemed to have been split in the middle.
The set of male genitalia that seemed to be missing, but he wasn't really in it… Just following along the scene he had seen.
'Tortured, no common thief, royal guard?'
He took another look at the golden thread that he was following along with a trembling gaze, before averting his eyes and looking Trisha straight in the eye.
At the flood of revelations, Trisha had just unveiled many questions that simultaneously flooded into Nocit's head. What did they want from Klemens? Was the Royal Guard truly responsible for this? Why did Trisha know so much about the royal guard? Had he truly been a part of the kidnappings?
But most and foremost, why did all of their fates lead into that passage that had just revealed itself? Noctis had a good judgment of himself, and he was quite sure that, after such revelations, he would not want to involve himself in this any more than he already had. This had already exceeded his bottom line.
But should he really try to defy fate by leaving now?
Noctis was unsure. He had never rejected the strings' call before, but should he really just follow their lead?
Doom himself to a life of predictability?
Slowly turning his head away from the passage, his foot tapped the floor in an uneven motion as it seemed to lift away from the unlit staircase…
Click.
Clack.
Click.
CLACK.
The decision was made for him, as the distant sound of footsteps came from the corridor connected to the entrance.
Someone was coming.
But how? Noctis's confusion tangled with a rush of anxiety as there was not the slightest hint of a fated string coming from that direction. His gut twisted cold. That shouldn't be possible. A pressure built up in his chest with each passing second. His breathing grew shallow, eyes wide as he stared at the empty space, desperate to find any sign—anything at all—that would reveal the intruder's fate. Unless, he thought uneasily, the person was somehow veiled from his sight, their fate masked by some interference, or perhaps they were using some ritualistic technique that hid their future from his vision. The idea left sweat prickling at the back of his neck. Only on rare occasions had his ability failed like this, leaving him utterly blind to someone's presence. The unknown was always the most dangerous, and the fear of what he could not see sent his thoughts scrambling, his heart pounding as he subconsciously searched for an explanation within the known.
Was the person just not going to enter the room? Should they just wait? Was nothing going to happen? What was he to do?
Suddenly grabbed by the collar, Noctis suppressed a startled yelp as he looked towards the owner's hand.
"Trisha? What are you…"
Noctis felt his body be pulled along suddenly. The decision had left his hands. He was entering the tunnel, his own thoughts and efforts made pointless.
Not disappointed nor especially pleased, Noctis did not resist, as he had little excuse to do so other than the desire to follow his own path.
Quickly walking into the path, the bookshelf split in the middle, each part having slid to one side. Noctis had no time to analyze the inviting sight, or maybe the maw that was going to consume them. Just before fully entering it, Noctis stopped in his tracks, drawing the gaze of his two companions.
Seeing their unspoken questions, Noctis ignored the two, taking a step back as his gaze landed on the red book, or the place that it was missing from, and pushed it back in. To his surprise, unlike the force that he needed to free it, it cleanly slid in with little resistance, and just like he expected, the split shelf slowly began to slide back together.
With the most obvious trace hiding itself, Noctis quickly slid in between the two closing book-filled rectangles that functioned like doors.
Now that he had decided on a path, there was no point in hesitating any longer. He could not afford to do so.
Taking a last look back, there was nothing but darkness in front, the light of the past slowly fading as each part of the shelf took its place.
When nothing but darkness remained, paired with three silent golden lines, none of them showing signs of ever coming back towards the bookshelf, the rumbling turmoil of the machine finally ceased.