Chapter 177 “Critical Point”
After a loud bang, the whole world fell silent.
Morris felt his consciousness drifting as if he had completely detached from his body. He didn’t know where he was, what year it was, and even for a split mont, he had even forgotten his own identity. In his mind, the old scholar only saw endless nothingness that’s surrounded by a turbulence of light and shadow.
It took Morris a very, very long ti to reassemble his fragnted soul. Then, he rembered everything – his na, place of living, job, and why he’s visiting the antique shop today after learning sothing had nearly corrupted his daughter.
The answer was right in front of him: this family was from subspace!
Countless roars and harsh noises gushed forward like it’s tearing the earth apart at the thought. He had just nded his soul, and now, he’s about to be torn asunder just as fast. However, it’s at the critical mont that a swirling mass of fog swept over him from every direction, shielding his senses from the chaos.
This layer of fog was called ignorance and stupidity. One of the blessings bestowed upon him by the God of Wisdom Lahem. Using this breathing room, Morris finally had the ti to think and look around. From the act, he saw it, a flickering glimr beyond the endless fog.
It was a glimr of light ford by many large and small light sources. In the center was a red light, which was the size of a human head surrounded by dozens of small blue, green, and red lights. It’s like so kind of matrix, flashing rapidly without order. Yet, it sohow contained so logic and rhythm to it…”
These regularly flickering gleams beca the anchor point that completely stabilized Morris’s mind among the countless turbulent flows of light and shadow. Eventually, he also realized what these flickering gleams were after a mont of astonishnt – he’s confronting Lahem, the God of Wisdom himself!
Every university and laboratory of the Truth Academy always has the exact identical depiction of Lahem within the sacred codex. It’s described that the God of Wisdom doesn’t take a human form; instead, he’s a series of shimring lights beyond the boundaries of the fog.
“Lord!” Morris stirred with intense emotions as he quickly kneeled in servitude, “Are you here to guide ?”
Those flickering “lights” did not respond to the old scholar; instead, the lights issued a low sonic tremor that directly entered the old historian’s head.
“Return, contact, understand, pass on…”
“You…” Morris stared at the light in astonishnt. He couldn’t understand Lahem’s will, but the elusive god of wisdom did not allow him to inquire further.
A strong sense of rejection swept over his soul in the next second, bouncing him right out of this chaotic and terrible space.
His body shook, and his brain seed to boil due to the overload of information that entered his senses at once – traffic sound, distant bells, blowing wind, and the bicycle chi. Then there was the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, the concerned voice of a girl that sounded vaguely like his student’s.
“Mr. Morris?! Why are you here… Are you alright?”
Morris raised his head in a daze and saw Nina standing in front of him, but in the next second, the girl transford into an arcing fla surrounded by ashes swirling around the figure!
Realizing it’s no dream, Morris stiffly turned to the side and t the twinkling giant’s gaze. The being was as chaotic as he recalled with those eyes exuding the power of subspace, but the facial outline had turned into a friendly middle-aged man showing concern for him.
The streets in the distance weren’t normal either – they were shaking like an earthquake. The ground under his feet also squird like that of flesh. The door and windows in the antique shop had all beco swirling black holes. Then there’s the sky… Morris had no idea how it’s possible, but the entire dark weather had beco a sea of fla, constantly burning, churning, and spewing occasional amorphous limbs of screeching banshees bound within that hellscape.
Nearly fainting again at what he’s seeing, Morris lowered his head with great difficulty and looked at his wrist. He’s still wearing the protective bracelet from the God of Wisdom, but this ti, there’s only four beads left!
Of all the misfortunate things to befall him today, there’s one good news: the beads had stopped crumbling into dust. Whatever madness invading his soul had been kept at bay so far, and now, he’s able to perceive the truth. At least, until the beads all crumbled into dust and the madness took his soul away.
He’s an old scholar so Morris didn’t take long to judge his current condition – he’s at the critical junction point of order and madness thanks to Lahem’s protection. He may recover afterward, or he may find himself corrupted beyond repair and transform into an actual monster. Whatever the case may be, Morris had no say in it, that much he knew.
While Morris was thinking hard and slowly, Nina and Duncan were also eyeing the old historian with concern. It’s clear the school teacher wasn’t in a good state.
They were practicing with the bike earlier when they suddenly saw Morris standing in the clearing next to them. Originally Nina wanted to run over to say hello, but when she was halfway over there, she noticed that the expression on the old gent’s face had gotten weird and freaky.
Dullness, trance, unresponsiveness to the outside world, like falling asleep while standing with your eyes open.
“It couldn’t be… Did he suddenly co down with dentia?” Duncan muttered without confidence. Then reaching out with a hand to shake Morris back to reality, he turned to Nina after getting no response: “Has your teacher ever fallen into a daze like this in school?”
“No,” Nina shook her head and said as she stepped forward to support the old historian’s arm, “Teacher has always been in good health, so how could he suddenly develop dentia!”
“We can’t be sure about old folks,” Duncan grabbed Morris’s other arm, then glanced up at the sky, “and let’s not talk outside. See, the sky’s about to rain. Let’s help your teacher inside first before he gets soaked.”
Nina agreed by nodding. First bringing the dazed Morris inside, the girl swiftly trotted back out and got her bike inside as well. anwhile, Duncan had helped the old historian onto a chair next to the counter. The old gent was still stiff, but so light had returned to those eyes that had focused on Duncan’s figure.
“Return, contact, understand, pass on…” Morris’s last surviving sanity seed to understand these words as they echoed in his ears.
Is this the will of the God of Wisdom? Have continue contact with this… existence?
At this point, Duncan’s figure had temporarily stabilized into human form through Morris’s eye. Although the scene around the old historian is still shaky and squirming like a cave of flesh, it’s at least less chaotic than the nothingness he fell into initially. Here, he could still think and feel fear…
This seemingly ordinary “antique store owner” was sothing that shouldn’t exist in the real world.
His own “student”, the girl who always smiled gently and was always sunny and optimistic, was not a normal human being either.
And he, ordered by Lahem himself, was to continue to stay here and communicate with this “family” despite being on the cusp of falling into madness.
Despite his woes, another crazier and bolder idea was propping up in this historian’s heart: he’s able to peer into subspace, the forbidden zone of mortals!
As soone that’s verse in history, Morris knows all too well what the great of knowledge seekers did in the ancient Kingdom of Crete. Through a lifeti of preparation, potions, and ritual, these brave souls would use their last flicker of life to reach this equilibrium state to peer into the forbidden zone. It’s both a sacrifice and a gift of knowledge to those still living.
And now, Morris was standing on this “battlefield” where countless sages died in eras past.
Slowly, the dazed look of the old gent changed from dullness to determination. Morris was no longer fearful but brave and strong, as all of those sages before him did when confronting evil. They are warriors of the book. They don’t brandish swords or guns, but with knowledge and the book.
He will fight!
“Hello, Mr. Duncan…” The old historian spoke with force as his hand ford a tight ball to subdue the urge to tremble.
Contrary to the combative stance of Morris, Duncan, on the other hand, didn’t know what’s going through the guest’s head and only got creeped out by the powerful gaze that seed to pierce his flesh.
This old gent… Why is he making such a scary smile?
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