The colors bleeding from the hospital’s surface drifted into the sky, drawn into the brilliant light within the massive ring. The temporal paradox agents explained to Jenkins that this was the accumulated temporal errors and distorted information from nearly ten thousand years of looping. It was a dangerous substance to the normal world and needed to be properly recovered and processed.
The hospital's ti remained frozen. Until its final disappearance, it would be eternally suspended in this single mont. When it had manifested this ti, the outsiders caught within its influence would be returned to the normal world. And, as promised, the three people who had accompanied Jenkins would finally gain the freedom they desired.
On the rooftop, its floor now growing pale and washed out, the motionless figures of Miss Los, the boy Rak, and the middle-aged Robinson appeared. A gray light swept over them, and against the backdrop of countless light particles ascending into the sky, their ability to move was restored.
Their mories were still fixed on the last mont they recalled—Jenkins striking the ceiling with his cane. The sudden return of their senses left them feeling unsettled and bewildered by the scene before them.
They took in the surreal surroundings, their eyes drawn upward to the great gray ring in the sky as it siphoned away the "colors." When their gazes fell back upon Jenkins, it seed they understood everything.
The Cursed Item, Bigges Hospital, was collapsing. The daylight that had defined the hospital's reality was being steadily replaced by the darkness of the true, present ti. As the sky bled into night, Jenkins felt the faint sumr breeze on his skin and knew that not much ti remained.
"You now have two choices," Jenkins stated, his voice calm and asured. "One is to step into death, just as all people do in the end. The other is to co with to my own ti: the sumr of 1866, in the Eighteenth Epoch. But I must warn you, it is not a kind era. We are at the End of the Epoch, and the cataclysm foretold to end an entire age is approaching. It may well be more terrifying than this hospital."
The young man spoke with a profound composure. To the other three, seeing him stand there with the trio of n in black suits—n who were clearly not human—he suddenly radiated an imposing aura. It was a stark contrast to the approachable companion they had known just monts before.
"Can we go back to our own ti? I still want to see my..."
The middle-aged Robinson asked, his voice brimming with hope.
"I'm sorry."
Jenkins shook his head.
"The stories of the past are over."
Robinson managed a pained smile. He looked down at his own hands, then over at the three temporal paradox agents.
"Then let continue on my path and welco death. After those people caught and brought to this hospital, the only thing that kept from being tortured to insanity was the belief that I could still see my wife and child again... I'm tired now. I think I'll just keep walking. This is what I've earned."
Jenkins nodded and turned his gaze to the boy, Rak, who was already smiling at him.
"I feel the sa as Mr. Robinson."
"Why?"
Jenkins couldn't comprehend it.
"I'm tired of my gift,"
The boy gestured to his bald head.
"At any mont, I can sense dangers that normal people can't. Sotis, I even see things that a human like was never ant to see. If I were to go with you to your ti, I imagine this gift would only bring deeper pain."
Jenkins thought about the current state of the world and had to concede that the boy's conclusion was sound.
"Besides, I know that we were all supposed to die. I don't want to defy my own fate. So let it all end, just as history dictated it should. I can finally rest in peace."
It was his own choice, so Jenkins said nothing more. He looked last to Miss Los. She showed no signs of hesitation or inner conflict.
"I'll go with you to the Eighteenth Epoch. Even though everything I know is gone, seeing a completely new world might be interesting."
She smiled at Jenkins.
"I am a scholar of mysteries. I want to explore the world's unknowns, to contain the dangers that threaten it. Since my ti has passed, I might as well see the future. When I was a child, I was filled with daydreams about what the distant future would be like... I just hope that in your era, the streets are at least free of filth and sewage."
"Of course," Jenkins replied. "The level of civilization now is probably similar to your own ti."
It was an assessnt Jenkins made based on the interior of the hospital.
"I must offer a word of caution," one of the paradox agents interjected. "She has endured the ti loop for far too long. Once she leaves the hospital with you, while the chaotic mories will not resurface, the erosion of ti on her body and spirit will result in a massive loss of her power and mory. Compounded by the different fundantal laws of a new epoch, the world's rules will selectively erase her knowledge. Sensitive information concerning the church, customs, and so on will vanish. Her recollection of her own past will be riddled with vast, empty spaces."
To Jenkins, this sounded like a necessary price—and one well worth paying.
"So, it's possible I won't even rember who I am."
Los inquired. The man in the black suit nodded but did not speak to her directly.
"If that's the case... then I think I must decline your kind offer. I will continue on my path."
She took a step to the side, standing with the boy and the middle-aged man.
"If I forget my own past, then what is the use of knowing any amount of the future?"
The question resonated deeply with Jenkins. It was this very conviction that had allowed him to find himself during the "Stranger" incident.
"Are you all certain?"
He asked the three one last ti. They all smiled back at him, but their faces began to blur inexplicably. The night wind carried the swirling colors toward the sky, and now, particles of color began to drift from their bodies as well, joining the ascent.
"Still, thank you."
The middle-aged Robinson said.
"Thank you for giving a real chance to escape this hospital. I have nothing I can give you, so I can only offer you my blessing. I hope you can live a long and happy life."
"Sir, I want to thank you as well,"
The boy added, looking up at Jenkins.
"for everything you've done for us. The first ti I saw you, I knew you were different from the rest of us. Especially your eyes. They're truly beautiful, sir. You have very beautiful eyes."
It was the first ti anyone had seen the truth of Jenkins's eyes at a glance. He was taken aback.
"You can tell?"
"Yes, purple eyes. Brighter than mine. I imagine you see far more than I do."
The boy said, then pointed to his own eyes.
"I can see and hear many things, so you probably carry a similar burden."
Jenkins could control whether he saw things he shouldn't, but he saw no need to tell Rak that at a ti like this.
"Sir, I also have nothing I can give you. So, as a final gesture, let look upon your essence. Let offer you one last piece of aid."
He raised his head to et Jenkins's gaze. The mont their eyes locked, the boy's own went blind. He staggered, nearly collapsing as blood stread from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. Yet he was smiling, a look of pure joy on his face.
"So that's how it is."
If they hadn't been standing at the convergence of chaotic tilines, with the boy's state of being hovering between existence and non-existence, he likely would have died on the spot.
"Your eyes are different from mine. I can see and hear things because it's a talent, like so people can run fast or jump high. But your eyes are not a talent, sir. I can't see your essence clearly, but I saw your eyes. You see more than all of us because you stand high enough."
Robinson took his hand. The boy faced Jenkins with hollow, black sockets where his eyes had been, yet Jenkins could read no other emotion on his smiling face.
"You stand high, so you see far. Your essence is magnificent. I saw many things, though I couldn't recognize what they were. You are destined for greatness. Thank you for everything you've done for us."
He coughed violently, and the colors of his body began to drift upward at an accelerating pace.
"Then it's my turn."
Miss Los spoke up, her smile relaxed, though touched with a hint of wistfulness.
"Jenkins, thank you for all that you've done. Though for , this was just another ordinary day—I left my house in the morning and took a carriage to the hospital... I have no valuable gift to offer you either, so allow to give you a few words that might be of help. Since this is the End of the Epoch, I assu you are aware of the legends of the Savior."
"I am."
Jenkins was confident that no one understood the Savior better than he did.
"I have no knowledge of the future Eighteenth Epoch, but I imagine so rules remain constant. My teacher once spoke to of the end of an epoch, and I have touched upon forbidden knowledge in strange tos. In truth, my duties for the church have always been... unique. Jenkins Williams, if you are not the Savior, then you must stay away from anyone who is. The title may an 'to save,' but the role itself is a magnet for disaster."
"And what if I am?"
Jenkins asked. The woman chuckled.
"If you are the Savior, then please rember this: the calamity is the accumulated sin of an entire epoch. To resolve it, imnse power and outstanding intellect are not the essential requirents. There is only one true requirent: the Savior must understand what the calamity truly is. Without understanding, one cannot bear its weight."
Her voice grew faint. The three of them looked down at their hands as not just color, but their very bodies began to crumble into fragnts, flying toward the sky. All that remained were transparent human silhouettes. Everything in the hospital was an anomaly that should not exist; all that could endure were their souls, which would now continue on their journey.
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