Damon felt his chest burn as the words penetrated his mind, and his eyelids snapped open. Now bloodshot, his eyes reflected Henry's worried expression, but that image soon vanished.
Everything in the scenery shifted as the musical-themed classroom was replaced by a stone path, leading to a slightly weathered building.
Its foundation, made of red clay bricks, stood two stories tall, molded with cement and housing several rows of single windowpanes on the first floor and three bow windows on the second. At its center, an arched window crowned the large entrance door connecting to a concrete staircase.
Smack!
Hearing a sound, Damon looked behind him and spotted two figures facing each other, seemingly caught in an unexpected standoff as they stood on wet grass.
The first was an older Cecil, wearing a white blouse and a ruffled hem black long skirt. Her attire was then further embellished by a nightshade colored corset paired with a long-sleeved white, cropped jacket, lined in green along the cuffs. Below, her legs were partially hidden behind a high slit in the front and accentuated by white boots and stockings.
"How could you say such a thing? I thought we were friends..!" Cecil lowered her open palm with a look of anger, taking two steps back, prepared for the other person's retaliation.
However, the white-haired woman before her simply stared back while cupping her reddened left cheek, as if she could not fathom that Cecil dared strike her after what she had said.
"That person was her..?"Muttered Damon with unease, struggling to maintain the vision.
Immediately, he had noticed her skin was a rich brown, only a few shades darker than his, yet what stood out most was the purple gemstone necklace, tied around her slender neck by black lace. With the dark beret and a purple rose accessory perched on her head, it wasn't hard to realize she was rather wealthy.
He had seen his own mother wear similar attire on occasion after all.
But Damon had his doubts after recalling her initial remark. Though the black and white flounce lace dress she wore was more elegant than Cecil's attire, the ugly expression on the woman's face gave the impression of one who merely sought to feign nobility.
At that moment, Damon felt someone grab onto his shoulders.
Abruptly, the vision dispersed, and his eyes fell upon Henry, who released a sigh of relief.
"What was that !?" Henry questioned, his eyes darting between Cecil's unmoving figure and his brother's pained expression, "I saw your eyes dull to grey, like your soul had left your body."
"I'm fine, just shut up!" Damon shouted, closing his eyes again. "I need to focus !"
"What--" Henry froze, immediately grabbing Damon's shoulder once more. "Wait a minute.. What do you mean by 'focus'?"
"You already know what I mean. Now let go," Damon interjected, brushing off Henry's hands."Time's running out!"
Leaving his brother confused, he then settled into a nearby chair before diving back into the chaotic mind storm. For a few seconds, he spiraled through fragmented voices, desperately searching for the previous vision until a new scene finally solidified.
'Where did I end up..?"
Damon turned around, catching the scent of something sweet, and discovered a large garden of ripening apples around him. His gaze then strayed further ahead, drawn to the sight of a familiar lake shore.
The same pretentious woman stood there on its edges, holding a stone in her raised right hand. Its surface was painted with fresh crimson, likely from whoever lay at her feet.
Yet as Damon walked closer, an adult Cecil crumpled against the muddy ground became visible. Watching the blood seeping from her dented temple and staining the dirt below, his steps quickly halted.
"Should we not do something..?" Suddenly, a man's deep voice nervously asked from a nearby bush. His words seemed to spur a cacophony of whispers shortly after, as four other voices sounded.
"What do you expect us to do, Emmett..?"Another man's voice stressed. "She is smitten with you. Why don't you put an end to this madness!"
"H-he's right.. this is your fault." A woman's voice agreed.
"Do you take me for a fool? Imagine what she would do to me if I spoke out!"The man known as Emmett replied.
"What kind of man are you,!?" Asked another woman's voice in a suppressed tone. "How could you be this spineless! You knew Josephine was up to no good from the moment she invited Cecil to our picnic!"
'these voices.. Are they the five victims..?' Damon muttered as his mind continued to race with his frantic heart. The more he heard, the clearer their identities became to him.
Seeking to confirm his suspicions, Damon then focused his eyes and peered through the shrubs to reveal a group of five dark silhouettes crouched together in a circle.
"Calm down bǎo bèi[Treasure], we--" Another man interjected tenderly with a Huaren accent but was quickly cut off.
"We? There is no we, I refuse to have my future soiled by this, I'm leaving!" Coldly refusing to hear her companion's words, the woman scoffed and stood up before taking off in another direction in the garden.
As the sounds of her footsteps faded, the rest of the group fell silent and exchanged several scared glances, strangely hesitant to leave.
"They put on good masks, but they're all spineless people."Noticing this, Damon could not help but laugh before his attention shifted to the woman, whom they called Josephine.
She stared down at Cecil's face, breathing heavily in shock, and as her pupils quivered, she wiped the sweat from her brow with her dress sleeve.
Without a hint of remorse in her tone, Josephine then dropped the bloody stone on the ground and said with narrowed eyes, "You should have accepted my kindness; this all happened because you tried to deny fate. I was the one meant to be chosen, not you!"
"Now that you're gone, that priest will have to choose me." Patting her chest in satisfaction, she flashed a gleeful smile and crouched to grab both of Cecil's arms.
"She makes this look easy. I'm sure this isn't her first either."Damon stared at her for a full second, trying to decide what to do.
While he was half-tempted to intervene, he intuitively understood that what he was seeing was merely a memory. The final die on Cecil Watson's life had already been cast, and there was no changing that; however, the reason for which she died was like a stone dropped into his stomach.
If Cecil had been born with a gift, something rare enough to draw envy and fear, what kind of end was this supposed to be? To be beaten to death by someone who decided she had gone too far?
'Who gave her the right to decide that?' Damon pondered seriously.
He didn't believe having noble status naturally made someone worth more than another, and although strong specters would likely disagree with that sentiment, Josephine was no specter of that; he was certain.
She was an ordinary person, yet she dared to kill the extraordinary!
["Could you accept it?"]At that moment, Master Tomoe's voice surfaced with a solemn cadence. ["Being a silent watcher to such ruined fates?"]
Damon was sure the question was just another test of sorts, but as his anger rose, he took a step forward and answered through clenched teeth. 'No!"
The moment his foot touched the ground near Cecil's fallen body, the memory shattered.
*****
At the same time, below the lake, Vincent slowed as a familiar shape drifted into view.
Kruger floated there with his eyes shut tight, motionless in the murky deep as though abandoned by gravity itself.
As Vincent drew closer, his stomach tightened. He quickly noticed barnacles had begun to grow from the man's skin, clinging to his face and arms in similar blue shades that lined the creature's body.
Instinctively, He released a weak pulse of spiritual energy in hopes of triggering a brief resonance to confirm the man was still alive.
As if on cue, a powerful pulse of intent shot forth from Kruger, brushing against Vincent's remaining hand. The cold spiritual energy then coiled around the hilt of his broadsword.
'My sword? Is he suggesting I run him through..!?'