The night had cooled down. The noise from the gambling arena faded into quiet chatter and the clinking of glasses. Tom sat on a wooden bench just outside the infirmary, hat tipped low, bandaged across his side. The lights above flickered softly, a pale orange glow falling over the tiled floor.
Harriet leaned beside him against the wall, chewing something that looked like dried fruit, one hand in his pocket, other holding a cup of tea.
Tom exhaled slowly, staring at his boots. "It's strange," he said, voice low. "I lost two kidneys, a pancreas, and a gallbladder, yet here I am. Seems like life wants to clap me more."
Harriet snorted softly. "You sound like an old man already. Should I start calling you Grandpa Newton?"
"You could. But I would still outshoot you with one hand."
Harriet raised a brow. "Not if you faint before pulling the trigger. You should really go easy on the food now. Stick to soups. No more heavy drinks or food."
Tom's laugh was weak, more air than sound. "A detective who diets. That's new. I should write a book 'That time I got obligated as a Detective who diets'."
The short hum of electricity filled the air. A nurse passed by, nodded and left them alone.
Harriet said, "You know, the past doesn't mean much. It's just fossils now. Dust in a different shape."
Tom looked at him, slightly puzzled. "Are you planning to kill me with your noble wisdom and take away all the wages?"
"Nah man, I didn't mean it." Harriet continued. "Just think, the past doesn't hold you. It only remembers what you did, not what you wanted to do. The future's the same. A blurry light we kept chasing but never touched. Only the present's real."
Tom nodded slowly, thinking. "So you're saying.… what matters is what we do today?"
Harriet smiled faintly, tapping the wall with a finger. "Exactly. People don't care who can. They care who did. That's all that stays in memory."
The words hung heavy, sinking into Tom like stones into water.
"I used to think every decision could be corrected later." Tom murmured, eyes distant. "That if I fixed the future, the past would forgive itself. Sometimes, that is not how things work."
Harriet chuckled quietly. "Your b*llshit face is telling me that he you have lost more than organs."
Tom didn't answer, it was soft tired but understandable.
The arena bell rang in the distance. The next match would start in an hour.
Harriet straightened, tossing the empty cup aside. "Come on, hero. Rest while you can. Tomoyoro, you fight again. The world doesn't stop for our thoughts."
Tom leaned back, closing his eyes briefly. "Sometimes, thoughts are the only thing that keep us human."
Harriet smiled. "Keep thinking. Just don't forget to die."
Lanterns in the streets flickered like dying fireflies. Tom Greyrat walked beside Harriet through the mist-coated boulevard.
Tom's mind was a mess. The murderer isn't gone. He is here, among them. Hidden in plain sight. Every shadow felt suspicious, every face calm and some suspicious. The idea gnawed at him with every step. "It's not over." he muttered. "Someone is pulling the strings from inside this city."
Harriet adjusted his red scarf, tone lighter but eyes sharp. "Then we will find him before he finds us."
They turned to the corner and a miraculous stuff happened.
An aura was surrounding them. It was sharp and powerful but bearable.
Three figures emerged from a spiraling vortex of black fire. It was grotesque, twisted silhouettes of light and void. Their eyes were like galaxies collapsing outward, their voices rang of forgotten god's choir. The air around them distorted, gravity kneeling to their presence.
"OUTER BEINGS.…" Harriet hissed, pulling his revolver even though he knew it would do nothing. "Wrong timing, as always."
The leader of the three, a deity of living ink and bone, spoke. Its words vibrated in their blood blood directly.
"THE OVERSEER'S THREAD REMAINS IN THIS REALM. WE SMELL HIS STAIN ON YOU, FACE-BEARER."
Tom's body stiffened. The Dark System pulsed faintly within him. "Not again…." he whispered.
The ground collapsed under them. Soldiers rushed from the plaza. Plasma rifles, runic blades, their battle suits glinting under the artificial moonlight. But the deities were beyond numbers. They floated, unbothered, their mere presence bending time like wet glass.
One deity. A serpentine mass of fractal wings extended a finger toward Tom. Space snapped.
In an instant, he was gone and swallowed into nothingness.
Tom screamed without sound. He was inside the singularity of a black hole. His body compressed, stretched, crushed, reformed. A billion times a second. His bones turned to atoms, his thoughts into nothing. He tried to resist the damage through Absorption of his Face.
Somewhere in that chaos, the Dark System pulsed again.
He saw shadows of countless souls bound to him whispering and urging. "Move. Break. Unravel the chain."
Tom forced his will through the collapsing gravity. "You think.… this is where I die?"
He reached for his revolver. Unfortunately, his hand was light now not matter. Concept.
He aimed and fired.
The singularity cracked like glass.
Reality exploded outward. Tom stumbled out of the void, covered in black dust, eyes glowing faint blue mystically.
The deity shrieked a sound that made the area tremble.
"GO BACK!" Tom roared, thrusting both palms forward. The Dark System flared tendrils of invisible power surged from his body, wrapping the creature, folding it into its own mass.
The air rippled and the deity vanished into the abyss it had come from.
It wasn't over. The remaining two deities began merging. Forming a monstrous eclipse of light and flesh. Above them, the clouds burned. A meteor, an orbital fragment streaked down, turning the night sky red temporarily.
Harriet eyes were wide, stood before it. "If this hits.… the whole union is gone."
He ripped off his coat, exposing the luminous runes carved into his arms. "Guess it's my turn!"
He leapt into the air, into the absolute heaven of chaos. His aura ignited with blue trails, wrapping the meteor like a living barrier. With a cry that shook the heavens, Harriet Clover redirected it. Slicing the fireball apart in dust with his own body as it disintegrated in the clouds.
When the smoke cleared, Tom stood below, barely conscious. Harriet fell like a burning ember and landed on his feet, laughing hoarsely.
"Well.…" he grinned, blood on his lip, "That was dramatic enough for a report, right?"
Tom exhaled, a trembling smile came through. "Too much for winning oscar." he said quietly.
The metallic echo of armored boots filled the plaza as a squad of soldiers rushed in, their halberds glowing faint golden from the city's defensive enchantments.
The insignia of Ramsis Legion gleamed on their chest plates. Golden wings spread over a rising sun. Their captain, a broad-shouldered man with ash-gray hair, halted before Tom and Harriet and saluted sharply.
"Our deepest apologies, sir. We are late." he said, breath ragged but voice firm. "The situation escalated beyond protocol. We'll handle the anomaly from here."
Tom adjusted his trench coat, nodding. "No apologies needed." he replied, tone calm yet drained. "Next time, get here before the buildings start mourning."
The captain grimaced faintly but bowed nonetheless. "Understood, sir. We'll make sure of it." With another salute, he turned to his men. "Contain the perimeter. Recover any fragments of the anomaly!"
The soldiers spread out, forming precise geometric formations as they began scanning for residual energy. The hum of runic technology filled the air like a mechanical heartbeat.
Tom and Harriet slipped away from the scene quietly, their footsteps light against the rain-washed pavement. Neon lights flickered on, merchants reopening shutters, the scent of fried dough drifting faintly from a nearby stall.
"Another hour, another near-death experience." Harriet muttered, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. "You'd think this city would get boring at some point."
Tom smirked faintly beneath the shadow of his brimmed hat. "You'd probably complain if it did."
They walked in silence for a moment before Harriet suddenly raised his hand. A shimmer of blue mist formed between his fingers
twisting into tiny ribbons of liquid light.
It was water, yet it hovered dancing like a conscious stream. He flicked his wrist and the mist swirled into a floating ring before dispersing into harmless droplets.
"Water magic?" Tom asked, eyeing the fading vapors.
Harriet grinned. "Hydro-weave, technically. Comes in handy when the fire alarms don't cooperate. Water magic has its own fundamentals like Hydro-weave, Quasar, Hydrofuel, Hab-i-tat, Monothesis, others. I have mastered Hab-i-tat, the art of controlling water in your body and breath under water. Also, Hydro-weave, art of shaping the affinity water. Learned it in my academy days. You?"
Tom shook his head. "Never touched magic but I know few information about those affinities."
"Not even a spark spell?" Harriet raised a brow. "Man, you're missing out."
Tom said nothing but deep inside, his thoughts stirred. Water affinity.… He remembered someone — a rival wielding a trident of liquid light, calm yet ferocious. Vera Astrid. His name came in his mind.
He looked ahead, pushing the thought aside as the city stretched before them.
Harriet kicked a pebble, breaking the silence. "Well, partner," he said with a lazy grin, "what's next?"
Tom adjusted his hat, eyes narrowing slightly. "Whatever's waiting." he said quietly. "This time, we'll be ready."