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Chapter Text

Sefirah Castle was in chaos.

The gray fog stretching infinitely in every direction had remained silent and ineffable until now, as if it had gone undisturbed for millennia. Now it was swirling and churning with noticeable speed. The chairs of the theater buckled and swayed ever so slightly, caught in an ocean's wave. The entire space seemed to be reconstructing itself even as it fell apart.

But this still couldn't compare to the turmoil in the hearts of the audience, who took in this sight numbly.

In just a moment, the spell would break, crushed by the truth in all its damning weight - but for now, nobody dared to move. As much as the fog churned, they remained stock-still. The revelation they'd just witnessed had rendered them speechless. It wasn't that they had nothing to say; there was so much to say, think about and recontextualize, thousands of little realizations that rushed through everyone's minds like an unstoppable tidal wave, to the point where it was difficult to choose one thing to focus on. It seemed easier to do nothing at all.

Of course, that wasn't what they were here for.

4:50

"O-Okay, nice prank." Danitz chuckled nervously, sweat pouring down his face. "But it's over now, so let's stop joking around… it's not funny anymore…"

"This isn't a prank." Audrey could hardly make herself speak, overcome with a strange fragility she hadn't experienced since she'd first left home. No matter how much she wanted it to be, this was no joke - and if it was, they were the butt of it. The thought occurred to her out of nowhere: I wonder what my family must be thinking right now…

To think that stupid theory of mine was correct. It's just… not even I can believe it. Bernadette shook herself and asked haltingly, "Is this what Mysteries wanted to show us?"

Amanises swept 'Her' calm gaze over everyone before sighing gently.

"Yes."

With one word from the Evernight Goddess, the final nail in the coffin had been struck. Ridiculous as it seemed, it was impossible to deny now: Mr. Fool, the so-called ancient god, the mysterious and untouchable existence who the Tarot Club had so fervently worshipped, was none other than Zhou Mingrui - an ordinary person who had transmigrated into this world with no knowledge or power whatsoever.

Leonard's hands began to tremble in his lap.

That's not possible. Klein was... Klein was... Even in his mind, the protest was weak. But it couldn't be true. It just couldn't. The man he knew wouldn't... Leonard searched through his memories in desperation, trying to find something - anything to make this wrong, to make everything right again, but all he could see was Klein's gentle face. Smiling, frowning. Brows furrowed into his empty wallet. Cheerfully describing his sister's latest mechanical creation. Laying still, a corpse on a table. Somehow involving himself in every one of Backlund's major incidents alone, taking to sea alone, killing Ince Zangwill alone, feeding the birds alone, disappearing without a word, alone.

"I can't return anymore."

A nightmare, he thought desperately. Surely this is all just a nightmare.

"But…" Cattleya protested, almost too quiet to hear. No! When I dared to look at 'Him' directly...! And that ancient aura I sensed on 'Him' when we first met - how could my Eyes of Mystery Prying be fooled?! There's no other explanation! Unless… Taking in the sight of the gray fog, a strange cold washed over her. Was it from Sefirah Castle all along? Disregarding how a normal person could manage to control a sefirah in the first place... isn't it possible?

There was no way to know for sure. But there was no way to rule out the idea, either. Even as Cattleya racked her mind desperately, she realized she had no irrefutable evidence. The words died on her lips.

Mr. Fool… that Mr. Fool… no, how can I question the might of God… but… Alger's mind - usually bursting with theories - was working several thousand times slower than usual. It was only years of self-preservation instinct that stopped him from burying his head in his hands as a creeping horror came over him. Just what kind of god have I been worshipping all this time…?

Danitz began to splutter. "No way! There's absolutely no way! Queen Mystic, you're a pirate - you should know exactly who that crazy guy serves!" Due to his natural hesitancy to say Gehrman Sparrow's name aloud, as if invoking the name would summon the man himself, he encountered no resistance from the spoiler system. "You really think that lunatic could be fooled by a fraud who isn't even a Sequence 9?!"

"T-That's right!" Emlyn stood up, unnerved by the silence of the club's smartest members and encouraged by Danitz's foolhardiness. "Mr. Fool has accomplished many great feats in the past! Those certainly aren't lies!" 

How could this be part of the Ancestor's plan… n-no matter! As a Messiah, it must be me who stands alone to defend Mr. Fool's honor! The Sanguine's delusions of grandeur remained as strong as ever.

"Do you think godhood is necessary to accomplish great feats?" Bernadette suddenly felt exhausted. Although her theory had been confirmed, she felt no joy or satisfaction, aware of the uphill battle to come. "At the very least, this is Mr. Fool's origin. 'He' has almost certainly grown more powerful since then. As for the man you mentioned, Lord Oracle..." She gently reminded Danitz of his position. "I have my own suspicions that I can't share right now. Regardless.. nobody knows what comes next."

Danitz stiffened like he'd been struck down by Leodero himself. He opened his mouth, then closed it, sweat beginning to bead on his face. Suspicions? What suspicions?! Tch, she can only talk like that because she's never had to be his servant! No matter who his enemy is, that son of a bitch Gehrman would strike down anybody who dared to deceive him! He would even face a god! How could such a man - no, the devil himself - be taken in by this idiot?! Unless...! A terrifying idea occurred to Danitz, and he shuddered, growing lost in delusion. Unless he was in on it all along...!

"Yes, but…!" Emlyn tried to press on.

"Mr. Moon," Xio said quietly, voice holding the faintest hint of reprimand. 

Emlyn blinked. He looked at his comrades, who were all staring into space with a mixture of shock and grim resignation. Looking as if he'd been slapped, Emlyn sank back into his seat mechanically. His illusions seemed doomed to shatter before his very eyes, and all he could do was watch the cracks spread, like a porcelain doll thrown to the ground in slow motion.

The Ancestor's plan… what is it, anyway? 

"…A false god?" Alfred muttered to himself a few seats over, brow furrowing in deep thought. The situation seems… more complicated than I'd thought. Audrey really was tricked? No, not just her - an entire group of high-level Beyonders, of whom at least a few are confirmed demigods! It sounds like pure fiction! Surely Zhou Mingrui must have become a real Beyonder at some point; he had to, in order to keep the facade going. All with the goal of returning to his original world…? Who could have guessed something like this to be the truth behind that secretive organization? He shook his head. At the very least, his intentions seem benign. But the previous actions of the Tarot Club have made it clear that he's not above harming others to get what he wants… he may still pose a threat.

Alfred looked up, ready to communicate his thoughts with his father to get a second opinion, when another voice echoed through the fog.

"Then, Zhou Mingrui…"

Benson Moretti cleared his throat, sounding incredibly haggard.

"…no. Klein. What does this mean for Klein?" the man asked feebly. He seemed to have aged a decade in the span of mere minutes.

A beat of silence. Nobody wanted to speak.

"Klein is dead." Melissa was forced to answered her own brother's question. "He's been dead for a long time. But Zhou Mingrui…"

Her voice trailed off. She balled her skirts up in her hands with a violent tremble.

"…He's alive, somewhere. Isn't he?"

Benson and Leonard both flinched violently. But once again, nobody spoke. The fog roiled and writhed as it seemed to grow solid in the audience's throats, threatening to suffocate them in silence.

Melissa turned to the Evernight Goddess. "Ma'am Arianna. You said… Mr. Fool is alive. Just sleeping. But alive. You really meant Zhou Mingrui, right? Is that why…?"

Is that why you left? 

Melissa couldn't speak another word. She ground her teeth together in order to stop a sob from escaping.

Is this what you've been using our brother's body for…?

Alfred paused.

Melissa Moretti and Benson Moretti. Klein's siblings. Alfred didn't have to be a Spectator to tell that the two were barely holding themselves together. Audrey was looking away, face blank as ever, and yet Alfred couldn't help but unreasonably think that she looked sad.

This is… cruel.

He looked back down and said nothing. 

Klein... Leonard only trembled once more. Then he grew still, very still, until even his thoughts came to a halt.

4:30

"Have you all calmed down?"

Still in a stupor, the audience dully turned to face Amanises. All at once, the serenity of a calm night came over them, and the haze cleared ever so slightly.

"Staying like this won't accomplish anything. I'm sure you all have things you need to discuss." The Evernight Goddess spoke in a lilting tone, 'Her' composure completely unshaken. 

Discuss... what are we supposed to say now? The Tarot Club stared blankly, heads spinning. They could hardly stop themselves from sinking in their seats. The Morettis didn't bother trying, shrinking into themselves as if they wanted to be swallowed by the fog, overwhelmed by the idea of confronting what they'd just learned.

The Hall family exchanged looks with each other, intent on making sense of the latest viewing's revelations. But soon their gazes turned to Alfred, who had gone oddly still, and then, as always, to Audrey. Lady Caitlyn held back a sigh, eyes swimming with sadness. This is a trial my daughter needs to face on her own. This is the risk of living in the Beyonder world, where everybody hides their true nature... she has to learn this for herself.

Feeling her family's gazes on her, Audrey blinked as if coming out of a trance, temporarily regaining her wits. "Susie," she whispered to her trusty companion, who nodded in response, immediately understanding. As much as Audrey wanted to be there for the Morettis herself, her mind was stretched thinner than usual by the situation, and sending out a Virtual Persona felt unwise. Even a demigod had limits, and Audrey knew hers well, as much as the fact frustrated her. She needed to conserve her energy for taking care of the Tarot Club and herself. They'll be in capable hands, Audrey thought as Susie padded over to the Morettis, who were too distraught to pay their new companion any mind. Or... well. Paws.

Amanises' gaze followed the interaction, but 'She' said nothing.

"Well? Come on already." Will Auceptin sighed. "Let's get this over with."

So calm... Xio made the observation numbly, then rubbed her temples. It can't be... Mr. Fool's angels were expecting this? What the hell has Fors gotten me into?

Gehrman… There's no way Gehrman Sparrow didn't know about this… That son of a bitch. This was all an elaborate plan to have me put my faith in a fraud… Completely disconnected from the atmosphere of the conversation around him, Danitz's thousand-yard stare penetrated the fog. I wonder, will I be forgiven if I pray for mercy…

What's with the sudden grim mood? Roselle lampooned to himself. His gaze swept over the rows full of drawn, pale faces and softened ever so slightly as he closed his eyes, looking away. All these people here for him, and he still had the gall to look so miserable the one time we met. You wanted to go home that badly, huh?

Seeing her father's expression, Bernadette took charge, having recovered slightly from her shock. "Shall we split into groups again? Lady Arianna is right. We won't accomplish anything by sitting here and gaping at each other."

Earl Hall cleared his throat. "I agree with Queen Mystic. However, I can't help but suspect that my family will be excluded from any meaningful discussion."

"The situation is quite delicate right now." Azik smiled apologetically. "I am sorry we cannot offer answers at the moment. There are… more pressing matters to attend to first."

The members of the Tarot Club had gone silent, not even daring to meet each others' gazes. The Moretti siblings were trembling and holding hands tightly, as if they would be ripped apart the second either one let go. Even Azik's wise countenance was showing signs of strain, and Danitz had begun to mumble incessantly under his breath (which everyone ignored).

….There's nothing I can say to that. In the end, we are undeniably the outsiders here. Except for… The earl's gaze shifted to Audrey for a moment, and he sighed. "I understand. We will take part in the general discussion."

As if to copy the Morettis, Lady Caitlyn took her sons' hands into her own and squeezed.

"I believe that would be best. As for myself, I would like to request another private audience with Emperor Roselle," Bernadette said with an elegant raise of her chin, causing Roselle to pump his fist.

Her Majesty has already recovered and resumed acting normally... Still lost in a haze, Cattleya felt a faint sting of shame. Every attempt at rational thought seemed to slip through her mind like sand through a sieve as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, causing her glasses to slip. She had never felt more like a child than in this moment. What's wrong with me? I... I have to pull myself together, or she'll think less of me... but I just don't know what to do. Your Majesty, please tell me what to do...!

Amanises acknowledged the pirate's request with a slight inclination of 'Her' head. When nobody else spoke, 'Her' silky voice crept into every corner of the fog. "If that is all, I will allow you to discuss now."

The truth had been exposed, and there was no running from it now. Another grim silence fell over the audience as people grit their teeth and tensed in their seats. The Tarot Club remained still, scanning the fog as if searching for answers.

What now? Mr. Fool... 

Amanises' veil shifted. As if by magic, everyone blinked at the same time. By the time they opened their eyes, the fog had already enveloped them.

Melissa and Benson opened their eyes to the sight of a golden retriever.

"Hello," the dog said.

A moment of silence.

Benson pinched himself. Nothing happened. He pinched himself again. Satisfied that it wasn't a hallucination, he laughed bleakly. "The stress must have gotten to me. I just heard that dog talk..."

"You've heard me talk before, you know," Susie said indignantly. "I mean, ahem. Hello. I'm a Psychiatrist, just like Audrey."

"..." After staring at the dog for a few seconds, Benson sunk into a crouch and placed his head in his hands with a long, deep exhale. In that moment, the man who hadn't even hit thirty seemed like an elder worn down by decades of hardship.

Biting her trembling lower lip, Melissa soon joined her brother on the ground, putting an arm around his shoulder. 

"...Alright. Let's sit down." Susie's voice became softer as she regained her professionalism. She sat to face the siblings. "I understand this is a lot to process. I'm sorry Audrey can't be here right now, but I'll do my best to help. Of course, you don't have to talk to me immediately."

Benson took another deep breath. Then he finally looked up, running his hands over his face. "This is really happening, isn't it? I'm not going insane?"

Susie smiled, as well as a dog could. "You're not insane. In fact, you're handling the situation remarkably well."

"There's no need to lie."

"I'm not." Susie's voice grew serious. "You're doing well."

Benson seemed to shrink back, face crumpling, and Melissa drew further into herself. The veneer of shock and disbelief was fading, and soon there would be nothing to hide behind.

"So Zhou Mingrui is..." Benson swallowed heavily, trying to unstick the words from his throat. "Is he really…?"

Susie sighed and adjusted her glasses before responding:

"Yes. Zhou Mingrui is alive."

The Moretti siblings flinched. Benson's breath caught in his throat as a powerful lightheadedness came over him, and he grit his teeth against it - if only this was some terrible dream he could just wake up from. Melissa barely had the energy to react further. It was probably strange, she considered numbly, that they were reacting so terribly to someone being alive. This was the kind of reaction one generally had to a death announcement. But wasn't that what this was, in the end? When Zhou Mingrui's survival meant Klein Moretti's death? It wasn't anybody's fault, but she was in too much pain to care. It was easier to watch the fog in silence and not think of anything at all.

"Alive..." Benson managed. "After all this time... How?"

Why does it matter? Melissa watched a strand of fog curl up and dissipate listlessly. It's not Klein, anyway.

Susie began to explain with a somber demeanor. "Death in mysticism is a very complicated thing. There are many ways to fake it, or escape it entirely. I'm not aware of the specifics myself, but Klein must have found one of those ways, whether accidentally or on purpose."

"We saw his corpse," the man said weakly. "It was Klein. It was him."

"It might have been. Or it might have been a fake." Susie's eyes were impossibly gentle. "There's no way to know right now. Regardless, Zhou Mingrui is alive."

"I... can we talk to him?" Benson asked urgently. "Is there any way he could explain himself to us, or even just... show his face?"

What was that play we were going to watch together?  Melissa curled further into herself. "The Return of the Count"? I don't remember what it was supposed to be about, even... yes, that's how little it mattered. Why can't you see...

Susie shook her head somberly. "I'm not sure, but I doubt it. 'His' condition at the moment seems rather fragile. It's best to assume that we can only rely on the viewing for explanations." She adjusted her glasses with a paw. "But don't give up hope. It may be possible for 'Him' to establish communication, or for you to achieve closure through the viewing itself. As painful as this experience must be for you, it's also a chance to let an old wound heal properly."

"An old wound..." Benson muttered. His gaze dropped to the floor, and he fell silent for a moment. When he tried to speak again, his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Why didn't he say anything? To let us know he was..."

"Why would he?"

Benson and Susie looked up. It was the first time Melissa had spoken in this gathering. Melissa herself tensed slightly, barely even realizing she had spoken until the others' gazes fell upon her.

"Why would he say anything?" she repeated, tone dull but eyes burning with acidic rage. "He's not actually our brother. He had no reason to."

"That's not... he stayed with us for two months, didn't he?" The usually mature and emotionally reserved Benson couldn't stop himself from talking under Susie's encouraging gaze. He swayed as if his soul had come unmoored. "We treated each other like family. If he was a stranger, it should have meant nothing, but was it really all... pointless?"

"I can't tell you that." Susie looked sympathetic. "You have to decide for yourself. Though... I think for Zhou Mingrui-"

"Miss Audrey knew, didn't she?" Melissa interrupted.

Expression pinched, Benson called out, "That's-"

"I'm not finished." She stood suddenly, propelled by the heat of a years-old fury bursting to the surface. "Miss Audrey knew Zhou Mingrui was alive and she didn't tell us. So did that man who told us about Klein's death years ago. Even Zhou Mingrui himself... how many other people kept this from us?"

Susie remained placid, letting her patient vent out her emotions. "I don't know the details myself, but those people had their reasons. Zhou Mingrui was involved in many strange and supernatural matters, and he most likely decided it was too dangerous to stay with you, for fear of implicating you." 

Melissa's fists began to tremble. "Too dangerous? What does danger mean to someone who would dare to blaspheme the gods? Anyway, he barely knew us, so why should he care about us? I don't believe you. He was just looking for an excuse to leave, wasn't he?"

"You're looking for a specific answer for me," Susie said quietly. "But I'm afraid I can't give it to you."

"Liar!" The scream tore itself out of Melissa with a force that shocked everyone, most of all Melissa herself. Finally the dam had crumbled, and the words kept rushing out like water in the tides, filling her lungs with salt and iron. "Don't lie to me! Why does Zhou Mingrui get to live on when Klein died so easily? Where's the meaning in that?! Somewhere out there a stranger is walking around in our brother's body - pretending to be - a god! And we're supposed to accept it?! He-" Suddenly the air stung her throat, and she choked. "He didn't even say goodbye!"

A terrible silence fell over the fog. Susie regarded Melissa - now shaking and breathing heavily - with limpid eyes, waiting for her patient to calm down. Then her gaze caught something on the ground and she settled, content.

"...Melissa..." Benson reached out for his sister. His eyes caught sight of what Susie was looking at-

He froze.

At first, Melissa didn't react, eyes glazed over in grief. But as the quiet stretched on, she gathered herself and asked, softly, "Benson?"

Her brother said nothing in response. He continued to stare at the ground, wide-eyed. Melissa followed his gaze and she, too, froze in her tracks, a familiar knot tightening in her chest.

A flower. Its color was golden, symbolizing happiness. Somehow it had appeared at their feet without their notice, innocent petals swaying, swaying in an intangible wind - here, in this dead sea of fog where nothing grew.

It was a Seville chrysanthemum.

Robotically, Melissa bent to pick up the flower. The stem had weight in her hands. Nothing about it seemed like an illusion. Even as she held it, she began, against her will, to remember: a clown, a chrysanthemum, the smile that had never quite left - that had seemed to hide, if only to Melissa's grieving mind, some inexplicable sorrow to match her own. Oblivious to her thoughts, the petals continued to sway. Gently, as if smiling at her. The feeling was so familiar it was like no time had passed at all: as if she had never left that moment four years ago, and every part of her life from then on had been one very long dream. A dream that had reached its end.

"So it was you…" she murmured. When she closed her eyes, she could almost picture it: the sheepish expression on her brother's face, same as always even buried beneath those layers of paint, shy but earnest as he handed over his peace offering.

"Melissa, I'll give this to you. So don't be mad, alright?"

When she opened her eyes, the image was gone. The flower remained.

This had to be some sick joke. Still clutching the chrysanthemum's stem, she raised a trembling hand to her mouth, muffling the sob that escaped.

"Idiot," she whispered harshly. "If you're going to apologize, don't leave in the first place…!"

Then, finally, she'd had enough. Beyond embarrassment, beyond pride, Melissa Moretti lowered her head and began to cry.

For a moment, Susie and Benson watched without a word. Then Benson pulled her to his chest, blinking against the burning in his own eyes as he stared at some point beyond the distance. Melissa only cried harder. She cried because she was sad; she cried because she was angry; she cried because there was nothing else she could do but cry, and that fact only made her sadder and angrier. Every long and lonely night had seemed to return to her all at once, and because she could do nothing more, she cried.

Gently, gently, the petals of the chrysanthemum swayed, brushing against her face as if to wipe her tears away.

The Tarot Club sat in heavy silence.

This is… Justice Audrey took in the sight, feeling shellshocked. Numbly, she wondered whether to Placate the group - more out of instinct than of conscious thought - but decided against it. Disregarding emergencies, this was a time when everyone needed to sort out their own thoughts.

She suspected that at this moment, these calm, respectable demigods were now frantically combing through their memories, looking for any possible piece of information to disprove the truth - only for the truth to become more obvious than before. She suspected because she was doing the exact same thing. Now that she'd been forced to acknowledge reality, the puzzle pieces she'd held all this time fell into place as easily as breathing, and she wasn't sure she liked the picture that was forming.

Mr. Fool's silence during Tarot Club meetings - not because 'He' thought the discussion was beneath 'Him', but because the discussion was too far above him. Whenever Mr. Fool had "regained" some strength, Mr. World had always advanced recently - in the past, she had written it off as part of the strange relationship between the pair, one that seemed to transcend a deity and 'Their' blessed. Even 'His' honorific name - "the Fool who does not belong to this era." Suddenly it all made sense in the strangest possible way: the idea that had been in front of them all along, yet was too bizarre and terrible to ever consider.

If any of us had really thought about it, we could have figured this out for ourselves. Audrey sighed. But in the beginning, Mr. Hanged Man and I were too fearful and inexperienced. We were easily impressed by simple posturing, backed up by the power of this gray fog. And by the time more powerful members began to join, Mr. Fool's image had already been cemented… what a perfect, self-made trap. It's hard to believe it wasn't planned this way. How could such a miraculous secret organization, influencing the world from the shadows along its meteoric rise to power, be something made out of a moment's desperation…

And… what does this mean for Mr. World? Something terrible was growing clearer to her, and Audrey's skull started to pound, the first echoes of a fearsome headache. Not knowing what to do, she could only fall back on instinct and do what she did best: spectate.

She sent a concerned glance to her fellow founding member, expecting the worst. Unsurprisingly, "Alger Wilson" seemed to be taking it worse than anyone. In an uncharacteristic display of something approaching vulnerability, he was rubbing his temples with his arms propped up on the table, face turned away from the others. She frowned imperceptibly. Mr. Hanged Man…

If Audrey's mind as a mess, then Alger's mind was in complete disarray. He'd been thrown overboard in the worst of storms, but the sea was no longer a refuge - the source of strength he had made for himself, had earned for himself. Instead it was a terrifying abyss trying to swallow him whole. He could only struggle in the water as if all his power had abandoned him, unable to even tell which way was up.

Rationally, he knew the truth. There was no way left to deny it; doing so at this point was just foolish. But knowing that did nothing to alleviate the suffocating pressure in his lungs. For the first time he could remember, logic and emotion were at complete odds in his mind. It shouldn't have mattered: he'd never been a man ruled by impulse, priding himself on the clear head he kept despite the influence of his pathway. When he made decisions, they were informed and rational. That was how he had survived so long as a mixed-blood and a Beyonder, defending himself against violent superiors, traitorous allies, and cruel enemies. It shouldn't have mattered, and yet when logic told him something he refused to accept, he found himself struggling to breathe.

Why? Why was he unable to accept it? The question filled him with a familiar terror. He felt as if he'd returned to the days of his childhood, in a squalid village terrorized by tides, where the ocean had seemed like the most terrifying thing in the world. Alger had worked too long and too hard to be reduced to that again. He'd conquered that fear. He hadn't been content to languish in some seaside hellhole, controlled by the unpredictable whims of the tides and the clergy; he'd gone out into the world and bowed and scraped and made something more of himself. Whether it was the Lord of Storms or Mr. Fool he was serving, it made no difference. Get the job done, keep your head down, and never question anything - ever. He knew the rules well and he followed them always. So how could it all be falling apart in front of his eyes? Where had he gone wrong? He'd done everything he was supposed to. He'd been a model servant, obedient and loyal. He'd accomplished his duties without delay or complaint. Above all, surprising even himself, he'd had faith in his god…

But faith was also a form of trust.

Mankind was one thing. Their treachery was expected and could be guarded against. But a god's will was the mighty force of the sea. No point resisting -better to bend a knee willingly before you break. That was the philosophy he'd lived by, and it had saved his life on more than one occasion. And yet… when the one he had bent a knee to was a fraud, originally even more powerless than Alger himself, what was he supposed to think?

What was he supposed to do now?

"…" Audrey pursed her lips and tore herself away. She couldn't afford to focus on one person right now; she had to take stock of the situation. She swept her gaze over the remaining Tarot Club members, finding them in similar states of shock and confusion.

Mr. Fool is… that Mr. Fool, who saved my life… this is 'His' true nature? Cattleya couldn't believe it. A non-Beyonder and a Sequence 8 or 9 being tricked is one thing, even if they're both quite clever, but I was at Sequence 5 when I joined! How could I not have noticed? No, I know the answer: I never looked! O-Of course I wouldn't! How could I dare to? I learned my lesson the first time, through God's punishment! And yet... Under the table, out of everyone's sight, her hands balled up the fabric of her skirts. Shame sat heavy and thick in her stomach. An experienced Beyonder, blinded by fear? It's pathetic! Queen Mystic must be so disappointed in me. She knew the truth, and I... I've completely failed!

Mr. Fool… Mr. World… Mr. Fool… Mr. World… Fors had fallen into the deepest pits of hell. She clutched her head in her hands. It's fiction! It must be! B-But not even I could write something this crazy! Could this really be the truth?! Mr. Fool, a normal person… The one I talked to so casually every full moon was actually Gehrman Sparrow?! I dared to waste his time with my problems… it's a miracle I wasn't turned into a Beyonder characteristic on the spot! But now Gehrman Sparrow knows all my secrets, and that's a fate worse than death! N-No… I can feel myself losing control… Mother, I may be joining you on the other side sooner than expected…

(…Miss, why does it seem like you fear Gehrman Sparrow more than the Fool… Audrey's lips twitched as she moved her focus away.)

This is the Mr. Fool we worshipped? The one that was part of the Ancestor's grand plan? Emlyn glared at the gray fog as if it had personally wronged him. What grand plan?! There was hardly a plan at all! Everything was just a half-baked attempt by Zhou Mingrui to save his own skin! I was accepting the help of someone like that? It's humiliating! Unbecoming of a savior! What's... He swallowed, throat suddenly very dry. What's going to happen to us Sanguines...?

So Mr. Fool and Mr. World were actually the same...? Derrick's head hurt trying to understand the sudden revelations, but aside from some disorientation, he was quite calm. For him, two idols he looked up to had simply been merged into one. All of 'Their' accomplishments were the work of one person? It's completely beyond my imagination... 'He' must be even more incredible than I had previously imagined! Suddenly a new thought occurred, almost moving the young boy to tears. Wait, does this mean that Mr. Fool came to personally escort us out of the Forsaken Land of the Gods?! W-What an unbelievable honor... for 'Him' to do something like that for 'His' believers...! Praise the Fool!

Honestly, what am I supposed to think... As a latecomer to the Tarot Club, Xio was more bewildered than anything. I mean, pretending to be a god? Who's ever heard of something like that? Even in my early days, I would have known better than to pull such a crazy stunt! Zhou Mingrui must be either crazy or fearless! Or perhaps wherever he's from has a different attitude towards gods entirely - who knows? I guess it doesn't matter much now, since it's all said and done. What's important is how he was able to keep the charade going for this long! Really, until he became a 'Him' and even formed a church... talk about "fake it 'til you make it'... She shook her head in disbelief.

Audrey looked away with a quiet exhale. There was only one member left to check up on, and it was the one she was most worried about: Mr. Star, who hadn't spoken a word or moved a muscle since the last viewing. It was as if he'd gone completely catatonic. Apparently he and Mr. World - Klein - no, Mr. Fool…? Yes, Mr. Fool and Mr. World are the same person now, aren't they… Sigh, it's hard enough for an experienced Spectator like me. For someone who knew Klein in real life… She pursed her lips and observed. I can't imagine the shock... 

Leonard was very, very still.

He didn't speak. He didn't move. If he did either of those things, he would have to think. And if he thought, he'd have to confront that truth too painful to be reality. It seemed easier to just be still, very still, and let the world wash over him.

"This hasn't happened in a while," Dunn Smith said.

He didn't speak. He didn't move. He didn't pay attention to the familiar silhouette lurking, like the shadow of death, in the corner of his eye.

"Especially at this level of severity," the dead man continued. "The first few months were difficult, but most of the time it was just visions. You could only hear me talk on the worst days. It's been a few years since we've had a conversation... I've missed it."

If Leonard turned, he knew he would see his captain smiling: a gentle smile of that spoke of sadness. Just as it had appeared on the corpse.

"You know what this means, don't you?"

I'm in danger of losing control. He had let himself think. Leonard suppressed a wince. It was more out of instinct than anything else; mostly, he felt nothing.

"Usually, you would be right. If anyone could recognize the signs of that, it would be me," the captain joked, voice tinged with sadness. "But this space, whatever it is, seems to have some protective influence. You're not in any real danger." A pair of lake-deep eyes flashed. "You're just in pain."

You'd know that too, wouldn't you? The memories began to return, unbidden. Bile rose in his throat. For a moment, Dunn said nothing, expression unreadable out of Leonard's peripheral vision, but he knew that smile like the back of his hand.

"Why isn't he here with me?" Dunn asked, growing serious.

Finally, a response: a flinch.

Please, he begged his own hallucination silently, please don't.

"Leonard." The silhouette grew closer, closer, its darkness fuzzing the edges of his vision. "Are you scared to face him?"

Zhou Mingrui. Mr. Fool. Klein.

He'd been chasing the image of that person's back for years now. After joining the Tarot Club, he'd thought he had caught up at least enough to put a hand on that person's shoulder, to support him from behind, to do something. For a glorious moment, he'd been able to dream of standing at that person's side. It had been ridiculous, he'd admit - a Sequence 4, beside a King of Angels - but it had been a dream, and it had been his. Now the mirage he'd been chasing all this time had finally turned to smoke beneath his hands. It had probably always been fated to turn out this way. From the beginning. From their first meeting. No, before that - from the very moment Leonard was born.

He was an orphan. He should have suffered, yet he'd grown up easily, surrounded by friendly peers and kind guardians of the church. Always, always, he realized too late the suffering that occurred around him, only thinking back years later to the dull-eyed children who sat in the corners of his memories, waiting for an extended hand that would never come. Then he was a Nighthawk. It was almost expected of him to become one, to want to become one, a child who was fed stories of valor and friendship with every meal and mass. What do you want to be when you grow up? A servant of the Evernight Goddess. And that was that. With a smile on his face, he walked the road laid out for him by others, never questioning a thing.

He met the Captain. He met Old Man. Then he was the protagonist of a beautiful dream, a prelude to every grand adventure epic he'd ever read. He had everything he'd ever been told to want; all he had to do was wait for the cogs of his future to be sent into motion. He lived with such brazenness in that pathetic manner, eyes fixed so firmly on the distance that he barely took in the shape of his own life in front of him.

Now he wanted nothing more than to return to that dream and never wake up.

Dunn's shadow hung over his shoulder, hand hovering closer, closer, closer. Leonard would have sobbed, if he cared enough to. It had all been a game. A fun story. He had passed his simple years in the orphanage and the church, just another faceless child in the pews, set aside only by his above-average looks. Every Sunday he had sat and clasped his hands together and let the sights and sounds embrace his mind for hours, praying to the goddess for the day the tides would finally sweep him away to grand adventure. Recalling it made him abruptly sick. The tides choked and stung of salt, and when they'd finally reached him, Leonard had drowned. Let alone making waves of his own, it was all he could do to keep his head above water as he was ensnared by the pull of that person - he who had always been the unfortunate epicenter, the eye of the storm. Leonard had only ever been a side character at best. A bystander. Someone who stood off to the side and let things happen, who let Captain die, who let Klein die, and now here he was, left behind once again.

But really - it was almost laughable, this farce, because who was he to complain? In the end, had he ever managed a single step on his own? It had all been a game; it had only been a game. Silly secrets that meant nothing, pitfalls easy to dance around in the gorgeous waltz he'd paced alone all his life, always spinning in someone else's palm. Now the stage had crumbled, the path beneath him lost to darkness. The only thing that had ever changed was the hand leading him along. 

Klein. He silently begged. Captain. Old Man. Anyone. Tell me what to do.

But there was no answer. So he remained still - very, very still, as he always had - and let the world wash over him.

"Are you alright?" Dunn asked, but the voice seemed off. Layered, somehow.

Silence.

"Mr. Star, are you alright?" Miss Justice repeated gently. Leonard felt his eyes open against his will. When had he closed them? It didn't matter. Dunn Smith was nowhere to be found. Dunn Smith had never been there in the first place.

"I... I'm sorry." Leonard's head spun, and he could barely get out the words. Who was he apologizing to? There was someone he needed to apologize to, very desperately. Who had he been talking to just now? Had he been talking to anyone at all? His eyes drifted to the World's empty seat.

"It's alright. Nobody has spoken yet." As if understanding his plight, the noble girl gently reminded him of reality, eyes swirling with unreadable emotions as she followed his gaze. "But... I believe Sir Death has something to say to us."

Leonard stared at her for a moment, mind still in a haze despite feeling the effects of a Placate wash over him. Nightmare... it must be a nightmare... Despite telling himself that over and over, he had yet to wake up. Blinking back tears, it was all he could do to direct his gaze to the head of the table, where the other Tarot Club members were looking with similarly lost eyes.

"It seems we have everyone's attention now." Azik Eggers smiled gently, the expression holding a strange undertone of regret. "I understand this is a lot to take in for you. I'm sorry this couldn't have happened under better circumstances... I'm sure this isn't what he wanted, either. Nevertheless, Will and I shall do our best to answer any questions you have."

"What he said," Will Auceptin said around a yawn.

Xio began to speak in a halting voice. "Sirs Death and Mercury - forgive my boldness, but... you were aware of this, weren't you?"

Mr. Fool's true identity... even now, it seemed blasphemous to speak of the topic out loud or address it directly. The Tarot Club could only watch the angels, hoping for answers. 

"Yes," Azik said placidly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He turned his attention towards Will Auceptin, a little curious himself about the other angel who had chosen to follow Klein.

"Of course I knew," the baby huffed. "I wasn't born yesterday." 

"Why?"

Everyone stiffened in their seats at the dull voice cutting through the fog, then turned to look at Alger, whose eyes were grim and distant. 

"Why follow a man without any power, if you knew?" he continued hoarsely.

What is he doing?! The Tarot Club looked at their comrade in shock and worry. Everybody knew that addressing an angel in such a manner was almost always an equivalent to suicide! How could Mr. Hanged Man, the most calm and collected out of any of them, be acting so recklessly? He must be completely out of it. The fact that he hasn't been killed yet is a miracle! Though, to be honest... I want to hear the answer to this question, too...

"Mr. Hanged Man..." Derrick whispered, heart clenching with concern. He'd never seen his mentor like this before. Maybe to him, this is something equivalent to discovering that the Ancient Sun God hadn't just abandoned the City of Silver, but died, and that there was never any hope... but that's not true! Mr. Fool is Mr. Fool, no matter what! 'He' has not abandoned us!

Well, he has a point... Privately, Emlyn agreed with Mr. Hanged Man's sentiment, though for once he had the good sense not to express this. It's not as if these angels are bound by race loyalty like Sanguines, either. What's the use in serving a fraud? If I should deign to serve anyone, it would only be someone powerful and deserving, such as the Ancestor or... Mr. Fool, so I thought... He slumped in his seat, feeling his heart deflate in his chest. What good is a Messiah who follows a false god, anyway...

Thankfully, neither the Angel of Death nor the Angel of Mercury seemed interested in smiting anyone today. Will Auceptin only responded with a sniff. "You should be nicer to me. Haven't you ever heard that children are the future?"

Still, the Tarot Club saw it for what it was: a gentle warning. Such disrespect won't always be tolerated. 

Audrey took the opportunity to Placate her fellow Tarot Club member before he could say anything else he'd come to regret. As soon as the Hanged Man's eyes cleared slightly, he sent her an appreciative - if still slightly dazed - nod. She smiled back.

"I apologize for my disrespect." Alger bowed his head deeply. His voice was still rough around the edges; everyone chose not to comment on this.

In response, Will Auceptin held back a yawn. 

"For me, at least, it was never about power." Seeing that the message had been understood, Azik began to speak. His mild expression melted into something softer, reminiscent. "Klein and Zhou Mingrui are both quite dear to me. I wanted to help them when I could. That's all."

"That heartfelt answer is making me look bad," Will complained. "Me, well... I took a gamble on him back when he was just a baby rookie." He smiled, displaying teeth unusually sharp for an infant. "I got lucky."

Luck, indeed... It fully struck Cattleya that she was in the presence of the Mythical Creature whose blood she had analyzed. Take a gamble? Why would 'He' do that? Because of this sefirah? Or something he glimpsed in Mr. Fool's... er, Klein's... fate? For an angel to take such a risk - just what could 'He' have seen?

Azik's voice took on a note of teasing. "A business decision? Was that all it was? I was quite upset when you beat me out for the title of 'the Lord's most cherished angel', you know."

"Clearly the Lord has an eye for these things," Will said smugly.

Sirs Death and Mercury are reacting so calmly, even joking at a time like this... not to mention brushing off my heretical question... Alger realized the consequences of what he'd done in hindsight and kicked himself, thoughts turning sour once again. Daring to ask something like that in the Church of Storms would have meant instant excommunication. I got off with not even a slap on the wrist! "Not about power"... How could a Sequence 2 Beyonder think that way? Do 'They' truly not care about Mr. Fool's identity? Were 'They' so content to entrust their fates to someone who had no idea what he was doing? N-No, I can't think of Mr. Fool like that - but it's the truth, isn't it? I don't know what to believe anymore...

Derrick's train of thought was much simpler. So Mr. Fool's angels knew all along... That means that in 'Their' eyes, Mr. Fool is truly someone following and putting 'Their' faith in! This realization ignited a warm glow in his chest. Praise the Fool!

Emlyn frowned. It's not surprising that 'They' knew the truth, but if mere angels knew, surely the Ancestor must have known, too! Why would 'She' have me join the Tarot Club despite this? Am I really supposed to believe that a false god - someone who was a normal person until recently - truly holds the key to weathering the apocalypse? I would never dare doubt the Ancestor, but something seems wrong here!

I wonder, do even 'His' angels truly know everything? Audrey's eyes narrowed slightly. To think Mr. Fool's identity was such a complicated thing... Zhou Mingrui, Klein Moretti, Gehrman Sparrow, Dwayne Dantes, Mr. World, and Mr. Fool, too? How many other layers are there that we're not even aware of yet? The mental burden must have been immense - how did I never pick up on it? As a psychiatrist, I've truly failed my patient. Then again, patients aren't supposed to keep secrets from you... She pursed her lips, that awful picture growing ever clearer. It seems like keeping secrets is all this person has ever done.

So there were people that knew the truth? Leonard resisted the urge to curl into a ball as he stared at the table blankly. Why didn't he tell me? Why? Why?

Taking in the Tarot Club's grim expressions, Azik chuckled. "Of course, our situations were quite different from yours. We knew from the beginning, while you all seem to have labored under false impressions for quite some time." His expression lost some of its levity. "I don't believe he meant to hurt anyone by lying, but it's natural for you to feel conflicted."

"...It's all just so bizarre," Xio admitted. "Mr. Fool has always seemed so strange and powerful. The idea of 'Him' being anything other than that is..."

"Is Mr. Fool even a 'Him'?" Emlyn couldn't help but ask incredulously. Is that the real reason 'His' angels don't use honorifics when referring to 'Him'? Despite wondering this, he couldn't help but use the same honorifics as always.

"There's no doubt about that," Audrey pointed out. "First of all, Ma'am Arianna herself told us that we were called here as part of an effort to destabilize Mr. Fool's anchors. Second, 'His' warning about 'Above the Sequence' can only be understood at Sequence 2 and above. And finally.." She took a deep breath as if bracing herself for the information. "We know for a fact that Zhou Mingrui, or Klein Moretti, is the World. Now we also know that... ahem, that Klein Moretti is the Fool. Therefore, the two must be equivalent to each other - and Mr. World was, at the very least, an angel before 'He' went to sleep."

At the very least? Having recovered slightly, Alger was able to catch this odd wording, but it only increased his feelings of discomfort and confusion. Is Miss Justice implying that Mr. World - ugh, Mr. Fool - could have reached an even higher level? Perhaps that of a King of Angels? Or... true godhood? Even though Mr. Fool's divinity shouldn't have ever had to come into question in the first place... you must not question the might of God, you must not question the might of God... The familiar chant echoing through his mind failed to calm him down.

"Mr. Fool... Mr. World... Mr. Fool..." Fors failed to be as subtle as her comrade, muttering under her breath as if she was going crazy.

Hearing this, Derrick straightened. "Actually, what about Mr. World? We've seen him and Mr. Fool together in gatherings. How can they be the same person?"

The Hermit adjusted her glasses and spoke in a heavy voice. "Starting at Sequence 5, the Seer pathway has the ability to control other people by making them into 'marionettes'. Even before that, the effect can easily be emulated with a Sealed Artifact or Beyonder Characteristic."

"A marionette..." Leonard croaked almost inaudibly. All this time... the real Klein was sitting at the head of the table all this time? I was looking for him so desperately during that last meeting, and he was right in front of me all along-! He bit back a sudden sob.

"And all the other godlike abilities Mr. Fool has demonstrated..." Xio started, hesitant.

"They can probably be attributed to this gray fog," Cattleya finished with a sigh. A sefirah - how could a normal person gain access to a sefirah? I can hardly be blamed for not thinking of such a nonsensical possibility! ...But that's a child's excuse, isn't it? She slumped in her seat, resisting the urge to hug her knees to her chest. All I can hope for is that Her Majesty isn't too disappointed.

"Then... what is this place, anyway..." Xio wondered. "I'd always assumed it was some sort of divine kingdom, but it must be an incomplete one. Reaching Sequence 2 in three years is ridiculous enough; reaching Sequence 0 in that time is just unbelievable."

Yeah, it sure is, thought Will Auceptin bitterly. The kind of thing that doesn't happen without divine intervention.

"What does it matter how that Zhou Mingrui fellow did it?" Emlyn grumbled, sour. Delusions ripped away like a toy from an unwilling child, the ugly truth he'd always looked away from now stared him in the face, uncanny as dolls' eyes. "We were tricked."

...After all, if the story of a Messiah isn't a grand adventure, it can only be a tragedy. Even as he scowled, the lump in Emlyn's throat grew larger. Mr. Fool and the Tarot Club had been the perfect backdrop for an exciting story, a lone hero rising to defend his people from the apocalypse. He had felt the weight of that responsibility in the past, as the illusion thinned in the heat of battle, but always, always, there had been Mr. Fool to pray to as a last resort. Mr. Fool, an ancient existence who could address Lilith by name, Mr. Fool who surely had great sway in all manners of things, Mr. Fool who could protect 'His' servants in ways beyond even their comprehensions. Now, even though the stage had come crashing down, Emlyn would still be expected to carry on the show alone. To advance alone, to save the Sanguines alone, to face the apocalypse alone... suddenly the word "Messiah" carried a horror that it never had before.

I never thought it would be like this...! A shiver ran down Emlyn's spine as his throat burned. He found himself missing his dolls more than he had all year.

Tricked... I fell for it... completely and utterly... Once again, Alger felt like he had been dropped into the middle of a storming sea. For some amateur's act? No, that mysterious gray fog, the situation... I couldn't take any risks. I was so afraid of being killed on the spot in that moment... could Mr. Fool have even hurt a Folk of Rage like me back then? Not even a Beyonder, with only the unknown power of this space? Could he have? Was it worth the risk? Did I do the right thing?

"B-But Mr. Fool still has many undeniable accomplishments," Derrick protested. "There was just more happening behind the scenes than we were aware of. I'm not entirely sure, but isn't that expected with such organizations, anyway?"

"You're right," Audrey told him quietly. "But people's hearts aren't quite so simple."

Logically, this revelation shouldn't have changed anything. The truth of the matter was that they were a secret organization: lying or concealing one's identity in such an environment was hardly an act of betrayal, but rather something normal and expected, even necessary at times. Naturally, the members of the Tarot Club were just as guilty of this as anyone else. Perhaps Mr. Fool might not be a god, but 'He' was still someone who had become tremendously powerful, and even helped them in the past. 'His' true nature, or their feelings towards 'Him', should never have factored into the equation.

And yet...

It wasn't proper; there was no reason for it; frankly, it overstepped every boundary imaginable. Despite everything, the sinking feeling in their chests refused to go away. Before their fateful encounters, each member of the Tarot Club had been at a bottleneck: stuck in the lower Sequences or perhaps not even Beyonders at all, mired in the drudgeries and necessities of life all the same - even the mysterious could become mundane with enough exposure. Mr. Fool had changed that. Mr. Fool had changed everything. 'He' had broken through the ordinary and whisked them off to be the witnesses of a truly grand performance, the likes of which the world had never seen; 'He' had even offered them the chance to join 'Him' on stage, together realizing a fate that was thousands of years in the making. Now the stage curtain had been ripped away to reveal a one-man show, barely held together at the seams. The veil of mystique had been shredded to ribbons, the mystery gone, the magic dispelled. Somehow the world seemed a little duller than before.

The fact that we're all so shaken… it's undeniable. The Tarot Club is more than a business transaction for us. Audrey's hands dug into her skirts. Even members of a secret organization have their pride!

"Mr. Fool..." Derrick surveyed the expressions of the group, his brow furrowing. As shocking as this revelation was, he just didn't understand the devastation his comrades seemed to be experiencing. Mr. Fool was still Mr. Fool; Mr. World was still Mr. World. 'Their' relationship had changed, but the people - person - 'Themselves' had not. Was his lack of comprehension yet another way he lagged behind, compared to those who had been born in the outside world? The idea caused his chest to prickle. Just this once, he wanted to be the one giving the explanations to others. How can I make the others understand...?

Swallowing, he came to a decision.

"Um, excuse me." Little Sun raised his hand. "Is it alright if I speak for a moment?"

Several people raised eyebrows, vaguely curious, but nobody really felt like talking, so no objections were raised. The attention of the table turned to Derrick Berg, who straightened before starting to speak.

"Life was... difficult there. In the Forsaken Land." He shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um, sorry, that wasn't a very good place to start. It's not that I'm asking for sympathy, either, it's just that... perhaps, because of this, I've always viewed Mr. Fool differently from the rest of you." With an exhale, he started again, shoulders hunched under the weight an old grief. "I think everyone was losing hope. So many of us had lived and died in the darkness that we couldn't imagine a future outside of it. With all the blood on our hands, it felt like anywhere we went, we'd just carry the curse with us. Many people chose to leave the city on their own rather than live in such a manner..."

The young boy paused. There was no need to elaborate on the fates of those who had left. Several Tarot Club members looked down, closing their eyes.

Derrick's voice, which had become almost inaudible, steadied again. "Mr. Fool was the one to lift us from that darkness. 'He' showed us light for the first time... 'He' gave us hope, but 'He' gave us so many other things, too. Views of the ocean, milk candy, sunrises, peaceful nights... we can enjoy these blessings because of 'His' grace. Perhaps it's different for people who have had always had these things. But for us wretches, they were miracles." He looked his comrades in the eyes, gaze burning. "Compared to my people's smiles when they see the sun, Mr. Fool's true nature is irrelevant. 'He' is kind, and that is all we have ever needed of 'Him'."

...Little Sun... The Tarot Club was taken aback by the boy's declaration and determined countenance. Their youngest member, naive and inexperienced, had begun to grow into a fine young man. Silence reigned over the table as the words sunk in, only to be broken by a hoarse voice, roughened by tears:

"Kind...."

Several members felt a small jolt of surprise. The Star had spoken without being prompted for the first time in the meeting. 

"Klein has... always been very kind," Leonard whispered, eyes unfocused. "I'm sure there's no kinder god than him. So why..." His voice cracked, and he fell into a daze once more, staring wordlessly into the distance.

Why... what? This unfinished question stirred unease within the hearts of the Tarot Club. Mr. Star and Mr. World had a strange relationship, one nobody knew the nature or extent of, and now Mr. Star struggled under the weight of a strange sorrow, one known only to him. What did he know about Mr. World - and by extension, Mr. Fool - that the rest of the club didn't? A mixture of curiosity and dread turned in their stomachs. Is it some terrible secret? Or perhaps, he's just betrayed to find out something like this about a friend...

Mr. Star... Audrey stared ahead with a heavy, numb heart. "Anyway," she said softly. "I think that the Sun raises an excellent point. We were tricked, yes, but everything actually promised to us was delivered promptly and without lies, in accordance with Mr. Fool's belief in equivalent exchange. The only thing wrong was our perception of 'Him'."

"Perception is still an issue," Emlyn grumbled. "It's the principle of the matter..."

"And anyway, Mr. Sun, you're wrong about one thing." Alger's words came out gravelly as he carefully tried to keep his voice steady, rubbing at his face. "Kindness and divinity are inherently opposite traits. It's good that you and your people have benefited from Mr. Fool's actions, but don't mistake that for goodwill."

Even now, Mr. Hanged Man is trying to teach me a lesson... Derrick's heart surged with gratitude. Still, he stood his ground, squaring his shoulders. "I understand, but that's not what I'm doing. Regardless of 'His' nature or intentions, Mr. Fool's actions have always been kind... that's what I meant to say."

"You can't afford to think that way." Alger's tone grew sharper. "If Mr. Fool's intentions were to change, so that 'His' actions no longer happened to align with kindness, what would you do then?"

Derrick remained firm but mellow. "I don't believe that will ever happen. But if it did, I would remain faithful to Mr. Fool no matter what." 

Right now, Little Sun almost seems more like the mentor than Mr. Hanged Man... The Tarot Club watched this exchange closely, gazes going from the unusually agitated man to the unusually knowledgeable boy. Sigh, it's like the whole world is turning upside down.

...Mr. Fool saved my life, when the full moon almost made me lose control... Finally, a rational thought broke through the cloud of hysteria in Fors' mind. I suppose that could have been a tactical move to gain a new ally, but letting me ramble to 'Him' about such unimportant things for every full moon after? What could 'He' possibly have gained from that, besides my trust? 'He' never did anything to abuse that trust, either. No matter how you look at it, this certainly seems like kindness... She shook her head madly, swallowing against the lump in her throat. How could a person like that be Gehrman Sparrow?!

Alger began again, eyes tired yet holding a hint of uncharacteristic wildness. "You..."

"We're getting off topic." Judgment Xio intervened. "In the first place, what is there to talk about? It's true that, as strange as this situation is... has anything really changed?"

"..." Alger fell silent, pinching the bridge of his nose.

For a moment, nobody spoke, a strange sense of shame washing over the table. What were they doing, sitting here and arguing like children? They had already established that yes, nothing had changed, and that their sense of shock and betrayal was mostly from their own selfishness. Although Mr. Fool had lied about being an ancient god, they were also at fault for believing the lie, and even feeding into it. And in the end, what did that matter? 'He' clearly possessed some divinity now, and the benefits reaped they'd all from the gatherings were undeniable. Mr. Fool was the leader of the gatherings before all else, so regardless of their feelings, they would continue to serve 'Him'. What more was there to discuss?

That should be it, but... No matter how childish their emotions were, the Tarot Club members couldn't simply erase them.

What's changed?! Leonard's hands curled into fists under the table, heart threatening to slam out of his ribcage. Everything's changed! Klein, Klein has-! But the words died even in his mind, long before they could ever escape his throat. He remained still. Always, always still.

"...Well, obviously, what's changed is that we're stuck here." Emlyn broke the tension with a sour sigh. "Hasn't Mysteries had enough yet?"

What a brazen way to address an Above the Sequence entity... The Tarot Club couldn't help but stop to admire their comrade's stupidity before the discussion resumed.

"It is... strange," Ma'am Hermit began slowly, still regaining her wits. "If Mysteries' goal is to destabilize Mr. Fool's anchors, now would be the perfect time to dismiss us from this space with no further explanation. We would be destabilized, lost in confusion, and unable to contact each other. But the maintenance of the timer implies that there will be more viewings to follow... is there some other motive at play?"

"I may have an idea, though I'm not sure if it's true," Azik offered placidly.

An angel has spoken! Everyone at the table whipped around to face Azik, faces eager. "Please, Sir Death," implored Xio, "anything would help."

"Of course." Azik nodded with a mild smile. "You recall what Ma'am Arianna said earlier, didn't you? It's true that Mysteries retains control at the moment, but 'He' is weakened. Executing this plan and holding you all in this space is an exhausting endeavor while also having to fight against Mr. Fool. I believe Klein may be able to exert small amounts of resistance in this period of instability. For example, holding us here for additional viewings..."

…That's right… The Tarot Club stiffened at the memory of the Evernight Goddess' words; the entire conversation seemed to have taken place years ago. 'She' believed that Mr. Fool willingly opened up 'His' memories to fight back against Mysteries… but…

"Even after all that just happened, you still believe Mr. Fool is choosing to keep us here?" Mr. Moon asked in shock.

"Of course he is," Will Auceptin said with a shrug. "Letting you all go now would be a disaster. He has to at least try and make himself look good first."

...Shouldn't you, the Fool's most cherished angel, also be trying to make 'Him' look good? Nobody dared to ask this question aloud.

Who cares! I want to go home! Mother! Fors was close to tears.

"I... meant to ask back then. If Mr. Fool is able to resist in any capacity…" Cattleya asked tentatively. "Does that mean 'He' is awakening?"

A series of sharp breaths echoed through the fog. If Azik's theory was correct and Mr. Fool was putting up resistance, that implied that 'He' had some level of consciousness - even awareness. This was the most news they'd received regarding 'His' state ever since that last Tarot Club meeting a year ago, and despite the circumstances, the idea of Mr. Fool awakening still sent an electric jolt of euphoria through each member's veins.

Azik furrowed his brow thoughtfully. "Not exactly awake. Just... aware. His slumber has possibly grown shallower, allowing a part of his consciousness to surface."

"Even he can't completely sleep through a commotion like this," Will Auceptin added, crossing his pudgy arms.

"Can Mr. Fool hear us?" Derrick asked urgently.

"Obviously." Will's tone made it clear he thought the question was stupid. "He could hear everything from the beginning. This is still his domain, you know."

…Ah… The Tarot Club felt a strong pang of guilt for putting on such a disgraceful show. But no - weren't they the ones who were lied to? Should they have to feel guilty at all? Would having doubts like this end up hurting Mr. Fool's anchors?

Azik smiled and shook his head, sensing their doubts. "For now, just take your time and try to understand. It seems that we'll be stuck here for the foreseeable future, anyway. Mr. Fool can wait for you all to settle yourselves."

But can he? Audrey recalled the tiredness that had hung over Mr. Fool like the shadow of death during that last gathering. The two psychological profiles - her rather extensive one on Gehrman and an incredibly short one on Mr. Fool - were connecting in a way that filled several inexplicable gaps yet promised nothing good. She shelved the puzzle pieces in her mind, unwilling - unable - to fully connect them just yet. Can he really afford to wait?

"...Mysteries summoned us specifically for the purpose of destroying Mr. Fool's anchors," Cattleya began haltingly, as a picture began to form in her own mind. "Of the twenty people summoned, eight - almost half - were us, Tarot Club members. I don't think I would be mistaken in assuming that we are..." She swallowed. "Quite important. To 'His' stability."

Azik's smile grew sadder.

Alger stiffened in his seat, hardly believing what he was hearing; Audrey held back a bitter smile. Fors, Xio, and Emlyn gaped slightly, while Derrick's eyes sparkled. Leonard's breath hitched as he fought back a fresh wave of tears. Filled with a whirlwind of bittersweet emotions, the truth settled over each of them like an unwelcome embrace: Mr. Fool is more than a mere leader to us… but we are more than mere subordinates to Mr. Fool.

"...There's nothing surprising in that." Alger offered a final, meager resistance. "Beings of higher sequences need anchors to stay sane, and seeing as... Mr. Fool is not actually an ancient god with countless followers, we are likely some of 'His' strongest allies and subordinates. Divinity is as contractual as anything else in this world."

"All human relationships are contractual to a degree," Audrey said softly. "Even those based on love."

Mr. Hanged Man's eyes narrowed. "Miss Justice, are you implying..."

He was crying. In the confessional booth, at that time, he had been crying. Audrey closed her eyes and said nothing more. 

...Love? Alger was rendered speechless once again. He stiffened in his chair as he was pulled back under by the tides, mind echoing only with the smell of sea spray, of the ocean he'd longed to walk into as a child.

"Mr. Fool..." Derrick's eyes shone bright with unshed joy. It would have been enough just to offer 'His' kindness, but to love us - to truly love us... Piously, he lowered his head and clasped his hands together in prayer, tears tracing down his cheeks. How lucky we are, to be loved by God!

"That's..." Cattleya's voice wobbled slightly, and she cleared her throat. "A very bold claim, Miss Justice."

He said something else to me, didn't he? Audrey only nodded mutely in response, eyes still half-closed as if lost in recollection. Yes... He told me: "If I wanted to give you my blessings, I would have said, I hope that you will still love your family and friends after seeing them as they are." Her gaze fixed on the fog. I wonder if he was thinking of himself in that moment.

"It's not impossible," Judgment Xio offered quietly. "Even in this gathering, there's a precedent. The Moretti siblings... they weren't aware of Mr. Fool in the slightest, and seemed to genuinely believe that their brother was dead. They can't be important anchors to Mr. Fool in the traditional sense of belief. The most reasonable explanation for their presence here is simply that..." The faces of Xio's own family flashed in her mind, and she found herself unable to finish her sentence.

...that he cares for them. Each Tarot Member thought this without saying a word.

Leonard grit his teeth against a fierce sob, burying his head in his hands. In this moment, he couldn't care less how the Tarot Club saw him, if they were watching at all. He just wanted to close his eyes and be swallowed by the fog. Maybe that would take him to where Klein was.

"Love? I-I mean... That doesn't..." Fors mumbled, quiet and shaky. Even for a novel plot, this would be too ridiculous... Yet every protest seemed to die in her throat as she recalled that last Tarot Club meeting, when Gehrman Sparrow had disappeared. Although she hadn't expected to feel anything at his absence - maybe even relief - she had instead felt a great sadness and terror, like the very foundations of the earth had shifted underneath her. Mr. World had been a pillar of their gathering, untouchable in the same way that Mr. Fool was untouchable. Outside of fiction, it was hard to imagine either one being capable of something like love or tenderness.

She pictured Mr. Fool's patient figure sitting across from her every full moon and fell silent again.

L-Love is great and all, but that won't save us from the apocalypse! Emlyn frowned at the table, oddly conflicted. Anyone who knows anything about gods knows 'They' don't really love... Still, I would rather have the god who can protect me, even without loving me! What's love matter if we all end up dying?! Though... Never until his dying day would he admit the fragile fluttering in his chest was relief. I suppose Mr. Fool has been watching over us all this time. So we aren't... on our own...

Surveying the table, Azik smiled gently, even as his heart ached. Klein had never discussed the Tarot Club in his letters, though towards the end Mr. Fool's identity had really been an open secret. Still, it didn't surprise Azik in the slightest that he had managed to touch these people's hearts through the thick and stifling mask of a deity. He only wished he could have seen it, in those last few months, for himself. The letters were his prize possessions, but as he had so often experienced, time and slumber remained impenetrable barriers between him and those he loved.

If only there was more I could do... Even as an angel, Azik felt powerless.

Will Auceptin caught his eye meaningfully, then gave a slight shake of his head before turning to address the group. "It's about time to reconvene now. You all know what you have to do, don't you?"

"Of course," Audrey said simply, though her expression was more detached than before. "We're here to help Mr. Fool."

Mr. World... Gehrman Sparrow, Klein Moretti, Zhou Mingrui, or whoever else... is my patient. If Mr. World is really Mr. Fool, then Mr. Fool will just have to become my patient, too. Miss Justice had achieved temporary stability. After all, no matter what name 'He' holds... that person hates being alone.

Still overcome with joy, the Sun Derrick nodded eagerly, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Yes... whatever I can do, it would be my honor! My life belongs to Mr. Fool!"

"...We cannot allow ourselves to lose composure again." The Hermit Cattleya pushed her glasses up her nose. Even as she spoke those mature words, she wanted to curl into a ball and hide under the table, overwhelmed by what she'd just learned. Divinity and love... Is this the truth you wanted me to face, Your Majesty...? 

"W-Well, we don't have a choice either way," The Magician Fors pointed out, hands trembling in her lap as she finally looked up to face the others. She could almost see Mr. Fool at the head of the table, listening patiently as always. "But... I want to help."

Besides, if I don't help, Gehrman Sparrow will d-definitely kill me! She shuddered and wrapped her arms around her sides.

"So do I," Judgment Xio added, patting her friend's hand comfortingly. I don't know what the hell is going on anymore, but at least Fors is here with me.

"I suppose I can be generous, since this gathering has helped me in the past." The Moon Emlyn sniffed with his usual magnanimousness. I would prefer the protection of a true god, but... surely the Ancestor knows what 'She' is doing. At the very least, this way, I... He harrumphed to himself and crossed his arms. W-Well, it's better than nothing!

"..." The Hanged Man Alger let out a long, slow exhale, trying to focus past the ringing of the tides in his ears. He put all the nonsense about "love" to the side and just thought logically. It should be too late for me to reconvert to the Storm Church now... I'm already the pope in a new church. Even if my failure was inexcusable, there's no more room for regret. I've thrown my lot in with Mr. Fool; now I can only hope for the best. Bracing himself, he spoke with a fraction of his usual authority and none of his inner hesitation. "Naturally, I will remain with Mr. Fool."

Finally, there was only one member left who hadn't responded.

"Mr. Star?" Derrick prompted gently as the table turned to face the poet. (Emlyn cleared his throat far less gently.)

"I..." Leonard didn't lift his face from his hands.

"It's only natural that you'd be the most affected out of all of us, Mr. Star," Miss Justice soothed, casting a Placate. "Which is why I'm so sorry to ask this of you. But right now, we must present a united front in the face of adversity. For Klein's sake, will you stand with us?"

"I don't..." Leonard's voice cracked in two. His hands tightened in his hair for a moment before he finally looked up, eyes red-rimmed but bright. "I don't want to stand still anymore."

The Tarot Club members let out small sighs of relief. Mr. Star was struggling, but he hadn't given up. That was all they needed to know.

"Because... there's something I have to ask him." Leonard continued hoarsely after a pause. He turned to look intently into the gray mist, tracing silhouettes nobody else could see. "I have to ask... if he has any regrets."

Silence fell over the Tarot Club once again. One by one, they also turned their gazes into the fog, as if by looking long enough they could glean some wisdom, understand some hidden truth about the man behind the curtain which had so haphazardly been ripped away. Perhaps, more than anything, they also wanted an answer to that question.

But the fog did not reply.