Autumn Korosten
*Beep - Beep*
The streets of Qīyùchéng city throbbed with life, a chaotic symphony of car horns creating a rhythmic pulse that reverberated through the vibrant tapestry of its bustling streets. However, amidst the cacophony, it wasn't just the sounds of honks that resonated within the city's energetic thoroughfares.
A melodic voice cut through the ambient noise, inviting all who passed to partake in the culinary delights of the Shenzhou Traditional Restaurant. "Welcome, welcome, welcome to the Shenzhou Traditional Restaurant," the voice chimed, its cadence weaving seamlessly with the urban melody.
Further down the crowded street, a spirited street vendor engaged in a unique marketing pitch. "Buy one, get one free of your Mum's toothbrush," he called out.
Not far away, another vendor sought attention with a different approach. "Sale, sale, sale! A discount of 30% on all our products will commence in 30 minutes—a discount of 30%!"
The announcement echoed through the air, gathering an impressive crowd. Some were eager to showcase their haggling skills and maximize the discount, while others simply sought a good deal. Meanwhile, the store owner, wearing a friendly smile, observed the growing crowd with a gleam of greed in his eyes.
These street vendors, reminiscent of spirited performers, orchestrated their daily hustle with fervour. Balancing on the tightrope of commerce, each sought to captivate passersby, vying for the opportunity to pique interest and draw more customers to their businesses.
Not somewhere far, in a quiet corner away from the urban commotion, Autumn found solace within the serene confines of a café. "Your tea is here, sir," a sweet voice chimed as Autumn was presented with a cup of tea.
That's right, it was time for a tea break. "Thank you," Autumn nodded, lifting the cup and taking a small sip before abruptly pushing the tea away from his lips.
'Sweet,' Autumn frowned, his taste buds recoiling at the cloying sweetness of the tea. A disdainful mutter escaped him, 'How can a tea be this sweet? Who puts a pound of sugar in their tea?'
****
A/N: Boba enjoyers might get offended.
****
Observing his reaction, the waitress, a bit concerned, inquired, "Is everything alright, sir?" Autumn met her gaze, passing the tea in her direction. "This tea is a bit too sweet for my liking. Take it back and bring me another tea with less sugar, preferably only one sugar cube or less."
The waitress, hesitating slightly, replied, "Sir, we don't have a return policy." However, before she could continue, Autumn interjected, "Just bring me another cup and include the charges of this tea on the bill. And remember, not too much sugar in the replacement."
"Right away, sir," the waitress nodded, taking the cup to retrieve Shroud another cup. As the waitress left, Autumn settled into a sturdy chair, surrendering to its support as he closed his eyes. In this moment of repose, the events of the day danced across the canvas of his mind.
Having arrived in Qīyùchéng City from the vast expanses of Siberia earlier that day, a sudden thought prompted Autumn to reach into his pockets, retrieving some items: a small piece of paper, delicately inscribed, and six rings, each embroidered with a similar pattern.
Suddenly, an excited voice chimed in within Autumn's mental realm, [Hoh, this is interesting~], Whisper's voice echoed in Autumn's mental domain. [Looks like you haven't been slacking off, deciphering the SoulSync Dreamweaver formula so soon after venturing into this world.] Whisper praised Autumn as it observed the items he had brought.
The SoulSync Dreamweaver formula is an ethereal technique that intricately weaves souls into the tapestry of dreams, enabling seamless communication among those who enter this mysterious land.
It allowed the individuals or more specifically the SoulSync code holders to enter a realm where thoughts pirouette in the moonlit corridors of the mind, forging connections that transcend the waking world.
In a more straightforward explanation, it grants users access to a dreamscape—a mystical meeting ground. Here, they can communicate with others possessing the formula and the means to traverse this ethereal realm.
Think of it as a virtual meetup, albeit operating on the elevated plane of mystical phenomena. Moreover, within this dreamscape, even if conversations span an entire day, only a mere fraction of a second would have elapsed in the material world.
Whisper silently observed Autumn's precise and fluid movements as he meticulously crafted rings adorned with ever more illustrious and magnificent patterns.
The room, bathed in the warm glow of dimmed lights, held an air of mystique as Autumn's fingers danced with purpose, carving intricate designs into the metal. The scent of fresh ink and the faint hum of an otherworldly energy filled the space, amplifying the enchantment of the moment.
Initially, Whisper struggled to suppress a grin from forming on its non-existent face, caught in the mesmerizing spectacle. However, as the rings began to take on their final form with the addition of each delicate line, it couldn't conceal its maniacal delight.
It began to laugh uncontrollably and with a maniacal sadistic tone that seemed to send shivers down the spine of every living creature.
['Hahahaha! This truly is amazing, but, of course, I must say, that stupid god of death helped us quite a lot by providing such a great gift.'] Whisper reminisced about the day when Autumn had returned to Japan a few months ago...
A few months prior, within the confines of a cosy yet slightly dishevelled apartment, where the warm aroma of freshly brewed tea lingered in the air, as Whisper munched down on a bowl of cereal, "Care to explain what's going on?" He addressed the Whisper, who was disguised as him and was munching on a bowl of cereal, not minding the presence of a new dog in the room.
"Oh hey! You took your sweet time, I must say. I was getting so bored that I was about to do something fun," replied Whisper, nonchalantly munching on a bowl of cereal.
Autumn, with his usual aloof demeanour, silently waited for Whisper to finish the bowl, which seemed to disappear in no time. Finally, after the last spoonful was consumed along with the ceramic and the spoon, Whisper leaned back, a mischievous glint in its ethereal eyes, and asked, "So, where have you been?"
"Hmm, let's see..." Shroud began, recounting his journey up until that point. The apartment's atmosphere shifted with each detail, though the initial parts of the story were mundane and seemingly non-significant.
However, the Whisper's ears perked up once Autumn mentioned the use of {Soul Departure}, and the very atmosphere in the room underwent a dramatic transformation.
The air thickened with an arcane energy, causing an electric charge to permeate the space. Shadows deepened, creating a play of light and darkness that seemed to dance on the walls with an almost spectral grace.
[Hoh?] The Whisper's ethereal gaze fixated on Autumn, a deciphering look etched on its incorporeal features. It was as though the revelation had ignited a spark within the room, casting an enigmatic and foreboding ambience that clung to every corner.
Amid this otherworldly focus, an interruption echoed — *woof*, a sudden Woff that disrupted the solemnity. Cheems, the playful pup, injected a burst of earthly energy into the esoteric scene, circling around Whisper and Autumn with joyful exuberance.
Whisper shifted its attention to the small canine, the air of mystery momentarily giving way to a softer demeanour. "What? Are you still hungry, little one?" Whisper inquired, its ethereal tones contrasting with Cheems' lively antics. The pup, in response, revelled in the playful dance, its presence a delightful juxtaposition to the current atmosphere of the room.
In a hushed tone, Whisper began to murmur to the puppy, gently cradling it in its ethereal grasp. "It's delightful to witness your boundless energy, little one. Yet, in this fleeting moment, you remain small. Fear not, for you shall grow, expand, and become more than your current diminutive form."
The room caught between the mystique of soulcraft and the earthly joy of a pup, became a canvas where the arcane and the mundane converged in a mesmerizing tableau.
Light and shadow continued their ethereal dance, and the convergence of energies painted a vivid picture of a scene where the boundaries between the mystical and the ordinary blurred with a captivating allure.
Whisper's spectral fingers continued their gentle caress, weaving an ethereal tale into the furry ears of Cheems. "You will burgeon into a magnificent adult Shiba, robust and adorned with a coat as opulent as a lion's mane," Whisper stated.
"Furthermore, your wisdom will deepen with each passing day, and your dominance will be a testament to the strength you'll embody... Alas, the ephemeral nature of existence weaves its own narrative, and not all splendours endure," Whisper's voice, once soothing, took on an undertone of melancholy.
[You will now embark on the journey of ageing—gradually, relentlessly. Your once sturdy bones will yield to the hands of time, your muscles surrendering their vigour. Yet, the cruellest facet awaits—an incomprehensible solitude and restlessness,] the Whisper intoned, and Cheems responded with a plaintive whimper, a poignant echo in the stillness of the room - *Whimper*
[And one day, you will stand at the terminus of this odyssey, but fear not, for that is not the end. You will then commence the inexorable march into decay—your body unravelling, succumbing to decay until all that remains is a vestige of your former self. Even then, it is not the culmination,] Whisper's gaze lingered on the vacant eyes of the pup, a spectral smile gracing its incorporeal countenance.
The ambience, once vibrant with mystic revelations, now bore the weight of profound stillness. The room became a tableau where the ephemeral dance of life and the inevitability of mortality intertwined. The ethereal strokes continued a poignant sonnet to the fleeting nature of existence.
[Your carcass will now embark on the inexorable journey of withering, whittling away, and fading into oblivion. And when I attempt to cradle you in this manner,] Whisper gently squeezed Cheems, the soft cascading sound of grains slipping through its ethereal fingers.
[You will transform into nought but dust—a complete, withered, and eerily silent vestige of vitality.] The Whisper's words hung in the air, a haunting symphony accompanied by the ethereal breeze that began to stir.
A profound stillness enveloped the room as a strong wind swept through, carrying away the spectral dust that had spilt on the ground. The only remnants in the aftermath were the lingering echoes of Whisper and the ethereal figures of Whisper and Autumn.
The unfolding scene held an eerie ambience, casting a spectral veil that left chills trailing down the spine of any witness. However, Autumn remained aloof to the macabre spectacle, not out of apathy toward the lives of others but rather due to having transcended the stage of conventional concerns.
He stood detached from the semblance of pity, greed, or any attachment to the unfolding reality itself. In his own words, "The reality perceived by a person is, in fact, the reality they believe in. We are all unique, each perceiving a distinct reality, with different perceptions, different minds, and different goals."
In Autumn's view, the unfolding scene served as a poignant testament to the inherent individuality of existence. Here, each soul perceived its own reality, and the dance of withered dust in the breeze acted as a stark reminder—a sombre reflection of the unavoidable conclusion awaiting those who stubbornly clung to the notion of a common, shared perception of reality.
This detachment in his demeanour wasn't a mere facade; rather, it bore the weight of a demeanour sculpted through countless ordeals and profound understanding gained over his lifetime. Each experience etched its mark on Autumn's being, refining his outlook and fostering a detached wisdom that set him apart from the conventional ebb and flow of emotions.
In the dance of the wilting dust, he saw not just an end but a symbolic representation of the countless narratives that had dissipated into the vast expanse of existence. And his demeanour, seemingly aloof, was, in reality, a manifestation of a depth of understanding and resilience forged through the crucible of his unique journey.
Autumn waved his hand as the wind dissipated, and the atmosphere settled down where, in the aftermath, only Autumn and the spectral entities of Whisper remained.
"Phew, now that no one is here to interrupt, I must say," Whisper nonchalantly gazed at Autumn from head to toe before a small grin appeared on its face. It gracefully lowered itself to its knees, saying, "Congratulations, your grace, on freeing yourself from your former vassal's Karmic circle.
Fast forward to November's Thanksgiving...
The remnants of Shroud's consciousness completely departed from Autumn's body. Henceforth, the one who now possessed this vessel was not Shroud but Autumn Korosten - "The Duke, Autumn Korosten, has returned."
Back to the present, as Autumn inscribed the final stroke, he had now completed the Soul-rings. As Whisper observed this momentous scene, it couldn't help but wonder how the king of Hell must be feeling at this very moment.
****
Meanwhile, in the realm beyond the living, the realm of death - Narka, an agitated Yama could be seen biting his fingers as he muttered incomprehensible words. His ever-stoic expression had betrayed a myriad of emotions—rage, agitation, worry, and the most profound fear.
Beside him, his wife Dhumorna wore a hard expression, her visage filled with a frown, and uncertainty clouding her eyes. After a prolonged silence, she uttered, "Looks like we were deceived by this enigmatic outlander." The goddess spoke through gritted teeth, a rare expression of extreme frustration. Her nails dug deep into her hands, causing them to bleed.
"The old divines do say that you may have eyes, but even still, you will be blind," Yama said, barely suppressing his anger as he gnashed his teeth. "I shouldn't have given him more than what he asked," Yama declared, slamming his hand on his throne, causing the entire Narka to shake.
"Dammit," Yama cursed as his body started to boil up with unprecedented hatred towards a single being. He kept muttering that man's name in his heart - "Orcus," "Orcus!," "ORCUS!"
****
[Looks like you are done, huh?] Whisper inquired, its ethereal gaze fixed on Autumn as he carefully set aside the completed ring. The atmosphere crackled with an unspoken significance, heightened by the timely arrival of the waitress, bearing a cup of tea.
"Here is your tea, dear customer. It's made per your preference," the waitress presented the tea with a delicate grace. Autumn's discerning eyes appraised the cup before he took a measured sip, a subtle nod conveying his satisfaction. "It's good."
"Then, enjoy. If you have anything else, please do not hesitate to call us," the waitress gracefully bowed before retreating, leaving Autumn alone with his thoughts. He immersed himself in the quiet pleasure of savouring the tea, the room awash in the soft glow of a tranquil afternoon.
However, amid the serenity, Autumn's gaze shifted into the vacant empty space when he suddenly broke the silence. "Say, Whisper, isn't it about time?"
[...,] Whisper stood quiet, waiting for Autumn to utter his next words.
"We explore the abyss of this world," he uttered.
To be continued...
****
A/N: Hope you enjoy the chapter and feel free to comment. Your thoughts and criticism are valuable in helping me improve and stay motivated to write more.
With this, we have officially reached the milestone of 100 chapters, including the auxiliary ones as well.