Silas only felt his brain throbbing with waves of pain.
"Shila!"
Amidst the intense pain, Silas heard an illusory tearing sound. Accompanying this sound, he experienced a peculiar sensation—as if a small portion of his consciousness had beco independent from his main body, separating from it and being transford by an invisible force, taking shape.
Has the virtual persona been successfully established?
He instinctively asked:
"Is it done?"
"Is it done?"
Another voice simultaneously rang out in his mind.
This was an indescribable experience. Silas was astonished to realize that at this mont, it was as if an illusory face was staring back at him, wearing the sa expression of surprise.
"Shit, so I'm the virtual persona."
As if just grasping the situation, that voice said in amazent.
That does sound like sothing I would say.
Silas thought to himself, then looked toward Ma'am M.
"It seems to have succeeded."
Ma'am M said with a smile, withdrawing her hands.
————
The next day, Monday afternoon.
Silas sat on the sofa in his bedroom, watching the clock's hands gradually move toward the three o'clock position.
At this mont, the manufactured virtual persona was wrapped around the outside of Silas's spirit, deeply fused with his etheric body.
Ma'am M stood beside him, maintaining his state.
"Tick, tick."
The chanical pointer moved second by second, echoing doubly in his mind as two sounds.
Silas only felt his head swimming in chaos; everything he looked at had double vision. He didn't even dare have extraneous thoughts, because intertwining thoughts would continuously spread, making him dizzy and confused.
Fortunately, he didn't need to endure any longer. The next mont, crimson and illusory light blood simultaneously from all around and from within his body, subrging him!
Above the gray fog, in the grand and ancient palace.
On both sides of the bronze long table, crimson light blood in succession, surging upward like fountains then falling, turbulently filling the high-backed chairs.
The crimson light sketched out hazy silhouettes one after another, filling the chairs in sequence, extending downward.
At the head of the long table, The Fool Klein, his body shrouded in gray fog, calmly faced this scene. He saw that on his right hand side, below The Sun, a new silhouette had appeared.
After this silhouette appeared, the high-backed chair it occupied also underwent changes. The brilliant stars on the chair back rapidly converged and took shape, finally forming a peculiar pattern—
Lush and sinister rose petals surrounding an inverted cross.
In mysticism, this was the symbol representing "The Hanged Man"!
The summoning succeeded.
Klein watched as Silas successfully appeared, thinking with relief.
When he tried to summon the mbers and touched the crimson star corresponding to Silas, for so reason, the connection from Silas's side felt illusory and fragile, almost impossible to maintain.
Fortunately, Klein had already advanced to beco a Magician, with more sufficient spirituality, and managed to sustain the connection, allowing the other party to successfully appear above the gray fog.
This might be Silas's thod of blocking the tidal wave.
He speculated.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fool."
After all mbers had gathered, Audrey habitually greeted each mber. Suddenly, her "Spectator" instinct made her keenly notice that the mbers attending the gathering had increased by one today.
The mysterious environnt above the gray fog blurred everyone's silhouettes. Through the mist, she could only discern that this gentleman had black hair and azure eyes, wearing a crimson robe.
A gentleman actually wearing such bright clothing? That's quite rare. He's looking around, seeming sowhat surprised.
Audrey observed the newcor, then very naturally expressed her curiosity before everyone:
"Esteed Mr. Fool, who is this?"
"This is a new mber, Mr. Temperance."
She heard The Fool calmly introduce from behind the gray fog.
"Greetings, everyone."
Mr. Temperance Silas—no, it should be said, Silas's duplicate persona—greeted everyone indifferently.
Actually, at the very beginning, when he saw himself appear above the gray fog, he couldn't help but freeze for a mont.
Why is it ? Shouldn't my virtual persona have been pulled up here?
And clearly I've already been pulled up here, so why didn't that tidal wave block it?
After a mont, he suddenly realized.
Oh, so I am the virtual persona.
Although what had been pulled up was indeed the virtual persona, because its personality, mories, and main body were completely identical, and it would fuse back with the main body afterward, he simply considered himself to be Silas.
Just as he figured this out, he heard a lady's slightly distorted voice, then The Fool began introducing him, so he took the opportunity to greet everyone.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Temperance."
Audrey was delighted that the Tarot Club had grown once again. After expressing courtesy to this gentleman, she continued her habit of greeting each mber. This process served as self-introductions for the mbers, allowing Silas to quickly learn each mber's codena and appearance.
And just as she thought, Silas, following her introductions, looked at each person in turn and quickly ford initial impressions of them:
The Hanged Man—sullen, seed quite shrewd;
The Sun—very tall, very large build, but seed sowhat impetuous, like a child;
The Magician—female, nothing special;
The World—what a gloomy fellow.
Having looked over all these people one by one, he shifted his gaze to Justice.
Good upbringing, very dignified posture, feels like a young lady from an aristocratic family.
The entire organization, including himself, consisted of rely six people.
It feels... a bit different from the mysterious organization I imagined.
Silas had originally thought that those who could participate in gatherings before a deity must all be so kind of unparalleled experts. But the bearing of these few didn't seem particularly special, which couldn't help but make him doubtful.
No, I shouldn't be so presumptuous. Perhaps they're just hiding their special qualities.
He was thinking this when he saw Miss Justice already standing up, bowing to The Fool at the head of the table. "Esteed Mr. Fool, I have collected two more pages of Roselle's diary this ti."
Roselle's diary?!
Hearing this, Silas couldn't help but freeze slightly.
Mr. Fool knows about Roselle's diary, and he's having the Tarot Club mbers collect it?
His heart surged with emotion as he watched the blonde, blue-eyed lady materialize two sheets of parchnt. The Fool transmitted them to the table surface before him, picked them up, and began reading.
Reading them!
Mr. Fool recognizes Chinese characters?
Could He also be a transmigrator? No, wait—He's a deity, and deities sotis represent knowledge itself. Mastering an encrypted language might not be particularly difficult for Him.
Corresponding thoughts flashed rapidly through his mind.
At the sa ti, across from the towering Sun Derrick, The Hanged Man Alger had already taken note of his subtle reactions.
Reviews
All reviews (0)