On the deck of the Blue Avenger, every crew member was occupied.
A short-haired blond man dressed in the blue robes of the Church of Storms stood near the helm, shouting orders over the lingering tumult. "Maintain our course! Keep heading toward those two ships! Those are the Captain's orders!"
With the arrival of their captain, Alger Wilson, the previously tumultuous waters had calmed considerably, allowing the Blue Avenger to advance far more smoothly than before. Yet their approach was by no means peaceful. The Stormbringer was currently engaged with the gigantic sea creature lurking beneath the waves, and every so often, the aftermath of their clash spread across the surrounding waters. Waves suddenly rose without warning, violent currents pulled against the hull, and distant thunder caused the deck beneath their feet to tremble.
Even with Alger suppressing the worst of the disturbance, it would still take some time before they could reach either of the ships ahead.
Amidst the activity on deck, no one noticed a hand press against the door leading into the captain's cabin.
A glove resembling human skin covered it.
The wooden surface beneath the palm rippled like disturbed water. Without producing so much as a creak, the figure gradually sank through the solid door, his body becoming indistinct as he phased through it.
Moments later, Charlie emerged on the other side.
Once completely inside, the human-skinned glove disappeared from his hand. He briefly surveyed the cabin before moving farther in, ignoring everything that held no relevance to his purpose.
He was searching for the Book of Calamity.
His gaze soon settled upon the captain's desk.
A yellowish-brown book rested quietly upon its surface. Written across its cover in a single line of Elvish were the words: Book of Calamity.
A brief smile appeared on Charlie's face.
He approached the desk and picked up the book, immediately opening it. Pages rapidly passed beneath his fingers as he skimmed through them one after another. He didn't linger long enough to properly read their contents, merely ensuring that his eyes caught a sufficient glimpse of each page.
No need to waste time reading everything now. Divination can handle that later.
After reaching the end, Charlie closed the book while keeping it firmly in hand.
His expression became serious.
He shut his eyes and began a precise divination centered upon the ancient book. For several moments, he remained completely still, with only the subtle movements of his eyes beneath his eyelids betraying the activity taking place within his mind.
Eventually, his eyes opened.
Charlie stretched his free hand toward the empty space beside the desk. Using the Book of Calamity as a medium, he twisted his wrist slightly and reached into the Historical Void, allowing luck to guide his attempt at retrieving the figure he sought.
The first attempt failed.
On the second, his outstretched hand suddenly became heavy.
Got you.
Charlie pulled.
An indistinct silhouette emerged from the void beside him, its outline rapidly becoming substantial.
It was a woman with pointed ears and deep brown eyes within which faint lightning seemed to flicker. Her black hair was gathered into a bun, complementing the complicated ancient dress that covered her figure. Her facial outline was soft, her features exquisite, possessing a timeless beauty that seemed untouched by the passage of countless years.
Queen Cohinem.
For the moment, however, those deep brown eyes remained glazed and unfocused.
Charlie still maintained physical contact with the projection, his hand gripping her shoulder firmly. Only after confirming that she had been successfully summoned did he release his hold and put some distance between them.
He walked around to the opposite side of the captain's desk, leaving the newly summoned figure standing across from him.
After moving to the other side of the desk, Charlie placed the Book of Calamity back upon its surface.
Behind him, the historical projection finally moved.
The vacant look within Cohinem's deep brown eyes flickered. A glimmer of awareness returned as her unfocused gaze sharpened, and the first thing she did was turn toward the unfamiliar man standing across from her.
Before she could make another movement, her entire body froze.
Charlie watched her reaction and gave a small chuckle.
"Welcome, Queen Cohinem. Your arrival was very timely."
Cohinem's gaze settled firmly upon him. Then, almost immediately, confusion appeared across her exquisite features.
Something was wrong.
She had been parasitized.
In the brief moment after completing the summoning, Charlie had silently implanted several parasites within the historical projection. They had already spread throughout her spiritual body, establishing a deep level of parasitization before her consciousness had fully awakened. Her movements were restrained, and even the thoughts that had immediately surfaced upon realizing her circumstances were stolen before she could act upon them.
"Calm down," Charlie said pleasantly. "This is our first meeting. There's no need to make such a commotion."
Only then did the restriction loosen enough for Cohinem to be able to talk.
Her expression settled as she studied the man before her, examining him with considerably greater caution than before.
"Who are you?"
She already understood part of the answer.
The fact that he had pulled her historical projection into the present made his identity as a Scholar of Yore obvious. Yet that wasn't the only impression she received from him. There was another peculiar familiarity hidden beneath the surface, something belonging to a neighboring authority she knew particularly well.
As a Soothsayer herself, Cohinem was sensitive to such things.
A Chaoswalker.
Charlie placed one hand before his chest and offered her a courteous bow.
"My name is Charlie," he introduced himself. Straightening, he smiled. "Just a friend who happened to notice an opportunity."
Cohinem clearly didn't accept that explanation at face value.
Her eyes briefly swept across the cabin, taking in the familiar surroundings, the Book of Calamity resting upon Alger Wilson's desk, and the violent weather visible beyond the windows. She had already formed a reasonably accurate understanding of where she had been summoned.
At that moment, the Blue Avenger suddenly buckled beneath them.
The cabin tilted slightly as another surge of seawater struck the ship. Loose objects rattled against the shelves, and the Book of Calamity shifted several centimeters across the desk before the vessel stabilized again.
Neither of them paid the disturbance much attention.
Cohinem returned her gaze to Charlie, the suspicion in her eyes only deepening.
"That's a lie."
Cohinem's response came without hesitation. Her deep brown eyes remained fixed upon Charlie, scrutinizing every detail of his appearance.
"At the very least, you're a marionette. Whoever you truly are, you're hiding behind him."
Charlie merely shrugged, showing no embarrassment at having his deception exposed.
"Indeed." He smiled casually. "But as suspicious as you are of me, I'm equally suspicious of you. Only the paranoid survive, after all."
Rather than linger on the matter, Charlie used the natural pause to move directly to his purpose.
"Since we understand each other, let's get to the point. I want to make a deal."
He reached inside his suit and withdrew an orange sheet of paper. Numerous symbols corresponding to the Sun covered its surface, surrounding a blank rectangular emblem at its center. Compared to an ordinary Notary Certificate, the patterns were vastly more intricate, with layer upon layer of mystical symbols woven into its structure.
Charlie placed it upon the desk and slid it toward Cohinem.
"A Notarized Contract."
He gestured toward the document as he summarized its terms.
"The deal is simple. I want information, very detailed information, as well as your secrecy and tactful cooperation when necessary. In return, once every month, I will summon your historical projection and permit you to perform one action."
He raised a finger before she could interrupt.
"Under my scrutiny, of course. Whatever you intend to do must first receive my permission. Neither of us will deliberately harm or act maliciously against the other."
Cohinem lowered her gaze to the contract.
A quick examination confirmed that Charlie's summary was accurate, although the actual terms were considerably more elaborate than his explanation suggested. Numerous clauses existed to prevent exploitation through indirect means or ambiguous interpretations. Even individuals outside the immediate agreement had been accounted for. Alger Wilson and several others, for example, were explicitly included within the restrictions concerning deliberate harm.
Whoever had prepared this contract had clearly spent considerable effort eliminating loopholes.
Cohinem looked back at him. "What information?"
Charlie smiled.
"Information and knowledge regarding the God of Edicts."
Silence settled between them.
Cohinem's brows furrowed slightly.
Charlie continued as though he had merely paused to collect his thoughts. "And every other Subsidiary God from the ancient eras that served beneath the Ancient Gods. At least, those you knew well enough to provide useful information about."
Cohinem immediately understood.
He wanted anchors.
Not anchors in the religious sense, but sufficient historical knowledge and personal details to establish a connection with those ancient existences. For a Scholar of Yore, knowing enough about a figure could dramatically increase the possibility of drawing their projection from the Historical Void.
And the man before her wasn't merely a Scholar of Yore.
He possessed powers belonging to a Chaoswalker as well.
If someone like that acquired access to the historical projections of multiple ancient Subsidiary Gods, the consequences could easily become catastrophic.
"Why should I agree?" Cohinem asked coldly. "You have given me no particular reason to satisfy such demands."
Charlie chuckled.
"Perhaps not, if we only consider the deal at face value."
His manner remained almost playful as he leaned slightly against the desk.
"But your present condition isn't particularly favorable, is it?"
Cohinem's expression subtly changed.
"Firstly, you're dead. Secondly, you're trapped in something resembling limbo, waiting for an opportunity to resurrect. Your current state is weak enough that you cannot fully resist having your historical projection summoned. Outside of that..." Charlie lightly tapped the desk with a finger. "Your influence upon reality is rather limited. Some vague revelations through dreams, perhaps. A little guidance here and there. Nothing particularly hands-on."
The Blue Avenger suddenly buckled beneath them.
The cabin tilted before righting itself, and several objects rattled against the shelves.
Charlie waited for the disturbance to pass before continuing.
"You might not be capable of fully grasping everything currently happening in the world, but surely you're aware that your little helper's efforts toward your resurrection have been... tiresome."
Cohinem said nothing.
"Delayed again and again. One hurdle after another. Every setback gives something worse more time to happen." Charlie's smile widened faintly. "Wouldn't it be considerably easier if an Angel such as yourself could occasionally take matters into her own hands?"
That struck closer to the heart of the matter.
A monthly opportunity to personally influence reality, even under restrictions, was fundamentally different from relying upon indirect revelations and waiting for Alger to interpret and accomplish everything himself. Even one carefully chosen action could remove obstacles that otherwise required months or years of preparation.
The ship buckled again.
This time, far more violently.
The desk shifted across the floor, and the cabin walls groaned beneath the force transmitted through the hull. Cohinem instinctively turned toward the source of the disturbance.
Her current condition prevented her from properly perceiving everything occurring outside. The parasitization further restricted what she could do, leaving her senses frustratingly incomplete.
But one thing remained unmistakable.
Alger Wilson was outside.
And he was fighting something formidable enough that even the aftermath of their confrontation was affecting the Blue Avenger.
Charlie noticed the change in her expression.
"Speaking of your little Stormbringer..."
Cohinem slowly looked back at him.
"He's outside fighting something rather troublesome right now."
Charlie spoke casually, almost as though discussing the weather beyond the cabin windows.
"And battles between beings of that level don't always end the way we expect."
Another distant impact rolled through the ship.
Charlie let the implication remain unspoken.
Alger could lose, or worse, he could die.
Unable to properly extend her senses beyond the cabin, unable to intervene freely, and unable even to determine the full extent of the danger facing him, Cohinem could do little more than stand there.
For the first time since the conversation began, the suspicion dominating her expression gave way to something else.
It was concern.
…
Back aboard the Storm Dew, several figures tore through the ship's narrow, linear corridors at tremendous speed.
The fleeing man moved with astonishing ease, as though the unconscious woman carried in one arm weighed almost nothing. Halsey remained limp against him, while the bluish-black book was secured alongside her. Only a short distance behind, Babayaga pursued relentlessly, his dark figure keeping pace despite every abrupt turn.
Without slowing, Babayaga raised his free hand and shaped his fingers into the form of a gun.
His fingertip jerked.
Several flesh bullets shot through the corridor.
The man shifted his body from side to side, narrowly avoiding most of them while deliberately keeping Halsey between himself and his pursuer whenever their positions aligned. The missed shots struck the walls, ceiling, and floor, where the pieces of flesh immediately began spreading. They expanded into grotesque masses, growing tendrils and layers of tissue that rapidly obstructed the corridor ahead, turning every missed shot into another trap.
The man gave them no opportunity to close around him.
Flames erupted from his body.
They swept through the corridor in spiraling waves, coating the walls and ceiling before surging across the floor. The spreading flesh blackened almost instantly before crumbling into ash. The inferno continued to follow the man as he ran, maintaining a blazing domain around him without reducing his pace.
It served another purpose as well.
With fire covering nearly every surface, the shadows throughout the corridor were suppressed beneath the overwhelming light. Whatever darkness remained was fragmented and constantly shifting, denying Babayaga any stable shadow he could easily exploit.
Realizing this, Babayaga lowered his hand and stopped firing.
There was little value in continuing. He had never possessed a clean shot at his actual target to begin with. Every time an opening appeared, the man adjusted Halsey's position and placed her directly within the line of fire.
The pursuit continued for only a short while longer before both figures burst onto the upper deck.
The scene outside was vastly different.
Howling winds swept across the deck with enough force to make ordinary sailors struggle to stand. Lightning repeatedly illuminated the night, followed by thunder that shook the vessel beneath their feet. At a reasonable distance, the sea itself appeared to be raging against unseen restraints, towering waves rising and collapsing as the aftermath of clashes between powerful beings spread throughout the surrounding waters.
Babayaga had barely stepped onto the deck when the fleeing man abruptly stopped.
Then he threw Halsey into the sky.
Her unconscious body shot upward with considerable force.
Babayaga's gaze immediately followed her, and caught sight of something else.
The Moon Card of Blasphemy was with her.
His body tensed as he prepared to leap after her, but his spiritual intuition suddenly screamed, stopping himself in his tracks.
A dark silhouette tore across the stormy sky with startling speed.
Before Halsey could begin falling, the figure swept beneath her and caught her securely. Large wings spread against the violent winds as Erynos revealed himself in his full Winged Demon form.
With Halsey in his grasp, Erynos glanced back toward the Storm Dew.
A teasing grin spread across his face.
There was no need for words.
Come on. Come catch me.
His wings beat once, and he shot away from the ship, carrying both Halsey and the Moon Card of Blasphemy toward the Death Announcer.
The man on deck watched only long enough to confirm that he had succeeded. He then turned around.
His task now was simple. To keep Babayaga occupied.
Yet what he saw caused his confidence to falter for the first time.
The enormous black greatsword was gone.
Babayaga's weapon had seemingly melted back into his shadow, leaving no trace of the massive blade he had wielded moments earlier. Instead, he now held a revolver in each hand.
The first possessed a classic silver-gray steel frame, its most striking feature being an unusually elongated slide extending along the barrel. The excessive length gave the weapon a peculiar balance, clearly designed to counteract recoil far beyond what an ordinary handgun should ever produce.
The second was the opposite.
Its frame was covered in a stark matte-black, almost gunmetal finish, with none of the conventional iron sights expected from a revolver. There was seemingly no provision for ordinary aiming at all, as though whoever wielded it had never needed to aim like a normal human in the first place.
The man stared at the two weapons. For once, genuine shock crossed his face, as he recognized them at a glance.
Son of a bitch...
Several previous details suddenly fell into place.
His expression gradually changed as realization dawned.
I think I know who you are.
Bang!