Chapter 67: Fulfillment #1 (Patreon)

Terra left a few hours ago while Owl and the Helping Hands work on improving the cave. In the meantime, Shriek is showing me one of the chat room things. The chat room’s words are so fast, though. It is difficult for me to keep up. Shriek says that each of them is from a different person and that it’s typically more disorderly, but they removed pictures. I presume the ones that would use pictures must be people that have yet to learn to read or write as I have. It is good that they are usually allowed to participate, though I do not know what they are meant to understand without a proper teacher.

“Miss Nightingale, just point if you want me to stop somewhere,” Shriek remarks. “Oh, that or I could just go back to the beginning.”

Using my whiteboard, I write, “I would prefer to simply read the beginning. Most of what they say I do not understand.”

He nods. “Well then, just give me a sec while I scroll back through all the old messages!”

The words move even faster except in reverse as Shriek does something to the lap-top. A moment later, we appear to reach the very beginning of the messages. My eyes run through the words of what supposedly belongs to this era’s people.

I write on my whiteboard and tap on it to gain Shriek’s attention. “What are these caravans of which they speak?”

Hearing my questions, his face lights up as he answers, “They are basically convoys of people that live communally after they were uprooted from their homes for one reason or another. Usually, they spend a few weeks or so in one place before going somewhere else.”

“Are these a newer occurrence?”

“Nah, they go back years. It used to be mostly made up of Native Americans after a bunch of reservations was seized in the Midwest. They were a lot smaller back then and kept to themselves.”

“I see, and they are not small anymore?” I lean back in my chair to listen to his answer.

Shaking his head, he continues, “They’ve ballooned since Crawler–Anchorage and the temperature started to plummet in the northern hemisphere a couple of months ago. They’re hardly the same thing anymore. Now they’re full of all types of people that are in it purely because they have nowhere else to go. It’ll take the bulk of them a while if some really intend to come here.”

‘...I understood some of that, I suppose. At least the general idea.’

Erasing my whiteboard, I scribble, “I believe I have seen enough for now,” and then wave my hand.

“Cool; let’s see if they’re talking about us on the news then!”

He does something and then a picture of the news crier, Jay Teems, appears. “When we come back, we’re going to speak to several of the more popular authors who write in a genre known as Lit R-P-G. These authors claim they have been experiencing harassment and even threats. Here’s a preview of that.”

The picture changes to a man sitting in a dark room with his face obscured in black shadows. He speaks in an incredibly deep voice, “It’s crazy! I just wanted to write a harem story, y’know? Then I thought, ‘Heck, why not make it a LitRPG? People like those, right?’ I swear I had no idea there was some actual truth to the whole system thing; it was just some added spice!” Throwing up one of his arms, he points toward me and says, “If anything, people should be asking questions about that Fairy! We don’t know anything about her!”

‘And I prefer it stays that way, to be frank.’

…
…
…

Several more hours pass. I grew a tad bored of being around Shriek, so now I sit watching the Helping Hands use odd spinning tools on the cave walls. ‘Does the cave really require these wire things?’ Scanning the ground, I look at all the other wire things they have run through the cave. ‘They already have so many and that rumbling device outside is so loud.’

Terra has also returned. Presently, she sits watching something on her lap-top. Earlier she left to ensure her father had not returned and to get some sleep. I doubt she slept much however since she returned early this morning.

Finally, there is Gen. Gen is hugging the coffin tight, yelling at anyone that dares get too close to steal his most precious object. I stand and pat him on the head. He nearly bites me before realizing who it is patting him on the head. When he sees it is me, he frowns and makes big pitiful eyes. Scratching under his chin, I shake my head. ‘Apologies, Gen. This is all to ensure us both a better future… I pray.’

Leaving Gen, I walk up behind Terra to observe whatever it is she is so focused on. The image is at first two people speaking to one another, but a familiar picture appears—a girl in stunning cerulean robes and silver armor petting the chin of a white ape.

‘Oh, it is me again. Odd.’

The image changes to pictures of burning rides and people yelling; the people in the image seem to be cloaked in gray dust as they dig through debris. At the bottom, it reads simply, ‘Unrest Mounts Following Rumours of Forced Conscriptions.’ The picture swaps to one that displays hundreds of people shoving against a wall of noble’s guards equipped with shields.

“This is getting more pressing,” Terra says in my head before releasing a long sigh.

“Is there something I may do to help?”

“No, I’m just warning you… Someone managed to capture a video of the turtle in The Lake and now people are suspicious that the Terrace is where the Tower will be there. Thanks to that, they’re starting to gather at the hotel we plan to place your gate at in anticipation.”

Shriek enters the room holding a white shirt. Unfolding it, he displays it, saying, “Man, they sure are fast; look what I found some shirt shop sellin’!”

The shirt is the same image I saw on the lap-top. A fist with the thumb tucked beneath the index finger.

At the same time, the image on the lap-top changes along with the words. It now reads, ‘People Seek A Way Into Cosmic System After Stream’ and shows a picture of me with Doctor Jäger and Mrs. Jäger.

Terra gazes at me and states in my head, “We need to go ahead and fulfill the prophecy before things develop further.”

“Aye, I believe it is around the time we stated the prophecy would be fulfilled. I believe we should do as we said we would.”

Narrowing her eyes, she nods and points at Shriek. “You stay and watch over things. Owl, Nightingale, we’re going to head for the hotel. We’ll satisfy the prophecy as we said we would and leave.”

“Is it fine if thou comes with us? Should thou not keep a distance until thou art prepared to retake thy organization?”

“To be honest, I probably shouldn’t go with you, but…” She peers at me. “I’m going with you.”

Thinking for a moment, Owl asks, “Should I have Rabbit, Wolf, and some well-suited Hands go with us to help shield Miss Nightingale?”

Terra nods at Owl and waves him off. With her permission, he leaves the room, removing a black rectangle from his coat pocket.

Hearing them speak of shielding me, I tilt my head and peer at the lap-top. “Are there a lot of people at the gate location? Should we perhaps sneak in or wait until late at night?”

“No, the bulk of people there right now are mostly just curious locals, but more and more zealous people will be arriving every hour. Plus, you recall how we had a focus on bringing and targeting some of the more promising people and inviting them into a chat room?”

I nod.

“Well, some of those promising people are at the hotel.”

“Ah, I believe I saw some of them conversing earlier.”

“When?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Shirek showed me on the lap-top!”

Her silver eye glares at Shriek who seems to be oblivious to it. “Don’t let what you see on the internet poison your mind, Constance. I know you’ve gone through a lot, but you’re still innocent in some ways.”

Narrowing my eyes, I shake my head. “Prithee, I would like it if thou might simply elaborate upon my earlier questions and cease calling me innocent.”

She smirks and continues, “Ah, well, it would reflect badly on us if we acted like we were afraid of some ordinary people acting a bit crazy. We need to show confidence. After all, some of the more talented and astute people genuinely believe, and for good reason, that they would be putting their futures in our hands.”

“What if someone attacks me or something of the sort? It seems as if everyone nowadays carries around firearms.”

Terra takes my hand, flips it over, and reaches into her coat pocket. Removing what looks to be a brooch, she places it in my palm. The brooch seems to resemble a bronze turtle shell with threads looped into holes that dot the shell’s surface. She releases my hand and says into my head, “This brooch can shield you if you find yourself in a critical spot—if someone tries something they shouldn’t. You saw my father do something like that once before, remember?”

“Thou means with the fire and acid; how it would not touch him?”

“That’s right, I took this from my father for you to have as a way to protect yourself. Put it somewhere you won’t lose it. It’ll activate on its own if it senses you’re about to take potentially lethal injury.” Raising a finger, she emphasizes, “It will only work once and they aren’t exactly easy to find. I’ve had this one for a few years now since that person tried to assassinate me.”

My fingers trace the threads along the brooch’s shell. “So this shall protect me?”

She releases my hand. “It will if someone does something that would actually do a significant amount of damage. Which is all you need to worry about because the Helping Hands, Lorcan, and I will be there with you.”

‘...I should not act so worried. If something happens, I shall handle it. I must act as if I am a brave knight while I wear the arc suit.’

“Aye! As always, it is very much appreciated. I shall return it to thou after the gate is placed.”

“No, no, please keep it. It’s more important you have it. Especially with our contract and all.”

“Aye. I understand.” Placing it in one of my pouches, I reply, “Then we may leave when thou art ready.”

…
…
…

A bit under an hour later, we arrive at Terra’s hotel. It only took us a few minutes to arrive here, but what took the longest was finding somewhere Lorcan could retrieve us without being seen. Terra’s hotel is where I shall be placing my second gate, where we prophesied its appearance.

It is dark and silent in the back of this ride; right now, it is Terra, Owl, Wolf, Rabbit, and me. There is also Lorcan, but he is operating the ride. Terra and Lorcan cannot be seen with me, so the two have their hair tucked back and are wearing a mask, hood, and cowl similar to the Helping Hands. As for what mask they wear, Terra went with a beautiful mask that resembles moth wings, while Lorcan chose a hideous ape mask because he thought he might be able to scare Gen with it.

“Are you ready, Miss Nightingale?” Owl says with a calm voice. He does not address Terra. She is meant to be treated like any other member of the Helping Hands. In fact, only Owl, Lorcan, Wolf, and Rabbit know she is Galtry. It is imperative we do not reveal her identity until the time is ripe, or she will squander her ability to manipulate her organization.

“Oh, it’s Miss Nightingale now!” Rabbit states, poking the side of my helmet. “How cute!”

Ignoring Rabbit’s blatant efforts to taunt me, I write, “Aye. I am prepared, Owl. Are there really going to be that many people here?”

“Probably more than you’re imagining, Miss Nightingale,” he responds with a dubious smile.

A small window opens from the front, where the ride is controlled from. “Come on, Fairy. You’ve got an audience,” Lorcan says with a hearty laugh and his hand on the door handle. “This shit is fuckin’ insane, like a Hollywood premiere.”

The carriage doors swing open, and if I had one, my jaw would drop. Crowds of people to either side of a rope, raising signs above their heads. ‘What is this fever dream…’

Owl, Wolf, and Rabbit throw hoods over their heads. “Come on, Miss Nightingale, we’ll stand to either side of you.”

“I’m sorry this happened so quickly.” Terra exits the ride and holds her hand for me to take. “I hope you aren’t mad at me...”

“It… It's fine.” I take her hand. “I shan’t run.”

As soon as I stand and exit, the shouts of the people grow loud. I hold Terra’s hand as she drags me forward. The people yell tangled words at me. From what I understand, it is a mixture of curiosity, praise, pleading, and reproach.

Yet my eyes fall upon a group of people wearing the familiar symbol of the God in Light around their neck. While everyone else’s reaction is mixed, theirs is all the same.

“Charity should be given to those that believe in the Light; a false prophet is among us!”
“God is the only way; subverting his will means you’ll roast in the pit!”
“Salem is missing a witch and she joined the Hex Church!”

Memories of Roanoke come rushing back. This is just like then. As I have told Terra, people have not changed; the Church in Light hates what it does not understand. Worse, they have not tried to understand; they believe they already know despite having asked nary any questions.

A woman with short black hair and dark brown eyes approach me with some type of club. Behind her, a man with a big box camera follows. She raises her club and tries to put it near my face. “Sage Giovanni from WGN. The Federal Government has refuted your claims of some type of an inevitable catastrophe and followed it up by stating that they have no reason to believe you’re capable of getting anyone recognized by the Cosmic System. Can you tell us how you respond?”

Before Sage may reach me, Terra stops her. “Don’t pay attention to the vultures!” She shoves the Sage, yanking me forward. “We just need to get in and out, don’t worry.”

Some Helping Hands block her. I can hear her yell, “Why are you so afraid to tell people the truth!”

Moving past her, another one holds out their infant, screaming something incoherent.

Lorcan marches over and shouts, “No one wants your booger eater, lady; keep it to yourself!”

The hotel doors swing open, a dozen people in animal masks march out and begin to take control of the crowds. Breathing a sigh of relief, Terra tries to release my hand, but I do not let go. I glance back at the people who call me a witch, I have had many titles, yet that is among my least favorite.

“I do not like the way some of these people are looking at me,” I say into my head.

Glancing back, her brows furrow. “Do you want to leave? If it’s too much, we can. I won’t be disappointed or anything; we can do this another way.”

“Nay, I need to place the gate first, then I shall wish to leave.” I release her hand, straighten my back and march past her. “Besides, I am playing the role of a knight, so I shan’t let it bother me… at the moment.”

With a small titter, she pursues me. “Lead the way, Miss Knight.”

The two of us hurry onward, encircled by the people in animal masks. Things progress so hastily I do not even have time to take in the outside of the building. We move through the doors into the hotels so fast the only information I catch is the name “Hotel Casale.”

When we move through, I notice everyone take a breath of relief. It must be a lot warmer in here. I can only describe the inside as a royals castle, much like the RV from days prior. Our feet tap against the hard marble floors. To either side of us, people stand scrutinizing our every move.

According to Terra, these are people she actually invited to New York. None of them seem that threatening, except for one group of them that watch me with red eyes and pale skin. Supposedly, that group claims to be from the ravaged city of Anchorage—Terra claims they are a potential collaborator.

Together we move toward a big pair of heavy wooden doors. The Helping Hands throw open the doors, revealing a grand ballroom of vibrant silvers and golds. It is a wide chamber, large enough for a thousand people at least. Everything is brightly lit and without pillars. Drapes hang loosely from the edges of the rooms along with floor-to-ceiling windows. At the front of the room is a stage made of rich dark hardwood. From the ceiling hangs six crystal lamps, lamps that Terra calls chandeliers.

Gazing upon the sparkling chandeliers, I realize it has a second floor that looks down upon the ballroom floor. I tilt my head; I did not expect to find a crowd of people standing around quietly observing me. They are not like the ones from earlier, they seem ordinary and many of them hold black rectangles.

We move to the stage. The room is silent, I do not know if they expect me to say anything and Terra looks plain irritated that they are there at all. She stealthily gives orders to the Helping Hands to prevent them from coming down and Lorcan to take the car around the building’s back.

‘They do not seem malicious. In fact, they appear rather respectful.’

“We need to hurry. People outside are trying to come in to see what’s happening,” Terra says in my head.

At the same time, a purple wall surfaces.

‘I suppose…’ Glancing between the Earl’s wall and Terra, I nod. ‘I suppose this is part of not running. A gate for those that shall carry the world upon their backs… a small show then.’

I raise my hand, greeting them.

“Are you about to do something?” Terra questions in my mind.

Looking at Terra, I say, “Aye and as I do with most things, I shall deal with the consequences. For now, I wish to look a bit ‘crisp’ as the saying goes.”

“It’s not ‘I’ anymore; it’s ‘we.’ We’ll both have to deal with any consequences.” She rolls her eyes with a tiny huff, hiding her expression from the Helping Hands. “But it’s not like I can say anything, just be ready to leave and enjoy your moment of looking crisp,” she responds in my head.

Owl notices I plan to do something and orders some of the Helping Hands to prepare for our leaving. From within my suit, the ball of yellow light moves and seeps through my leather glove, where I take it into my fingertips. Whispers arise from the balconies above. This may be the first time in life or death that anyone has watched me with such reverence, save for the elderly rats.

‘It is sort of like that time with the elderly rats, is it not? Aye, I need to do something in sign language. Something to inspire the masses… I suppose they have already adopted their own sign.’ I shake my head, peering into the face of the people above. ‘Perhaps I missed my calling; I would have been a great performer. I suppose a haze monster is not that different.’

Raising my left hand, I spread my finger, push out my middle finger, and then claw the air—this means “Mercy.” I then change it to the fist with my thumb tucked beneath my index finger.

Just before releasing the spark, establishing the second gate, I remark to Terra, “Oh, I should mention, I do not know exactly what is going to happen.”

“But this is your second gate?”

“Aye, but the first spark moved into a crack in the wall. I do not know what happened on the other side.”

“...is that safe?”

“I believe it is; Earl would likely warn me if it was not.” Taking her half-frown as confirmation to continue, I release the spark. It floats earthward, reflecting and illuminating the stained glass helmet beneath my cloak, my armour, and the cerulean fabric of my robe. The spark hits the hardwood below and a smoky black arises.

“Off the stage,” I warn Terra while hurriedly leaving the stage myself.

Terra, Owl, the other Hands, and I all move off the stage as a light commences building. A rumble comes from beneath the stage as haze spews out. The haze coats the stage's floor and then freezes solid, creating a stage of glass.

Watching the glass, I notice multiple shards sprout and arise like flowers until the stage is covered in them. Upon the flowers, glass butterflies sit, moving their wings until they freeze in place. ‘Beautiful! Excellent job, Earl; I cannot wait to see it complete!’ The gasp of the crowds above confirms my belief as they all whisper amongst themselves. ‘’The gate room survived the pellet of a pistol previously, so I believe it shall be fine here. Also, once again, Earl did not warn me, so I shall blame her if it does not.’

The sounds of the crowd's voices reverberate from the halls into the ballroom. I can hear people yelling at one another, some commanding them to stay back and others demanding they move.

“Is it finished for now?” Terra asks with a tinge of urgency.

“I believe so.”

“Then let’s go. We’re going to have to drive around and make sure no one is following us before returning to the cave.”

“Aye. Prophecy fulfilled.”

I look up at the people who are all leaning forward, watching as if they expect a finale. It shan’t ever come, though. The hard thumbs of my metal boots against the floor are how I bid the people in the halls farewell. If they wish to speak, they shall have to follow me. ‘...That is what a knight would say, is it not?’