"Haha, don't make such a face, Mr. Williams. We're dealing with the offspring of a great god, after all. Seriously injuring it is a victory in itself. In truth, if it and its collaborators weren't so adept at concealnt, we could have simply summoned a Righteous God to descend and settle the matter."
For creatures with divine nature, summoning a god to the mortal realm is undoubtedly the correct course of action. Yet, such events are exceedingly rare in history, which ans the mortal vessels prepared by the Church of the Righteous God for a divine descent almost always live out their days in quiet safety within a church, until their natural end.
Of course, even within the Church, very few people know the identities of those suitable to serve as vessels for a god's descent. He or she might be an ordinary priest or nun, an unremarkable mber of a combat unit, or a diocesan bishop of imnse power.
The only thing they have in common is their devout faith.
Jenkins wasn't worried about being chosen as a vessel, as every recorded descent of the Sage has utilized a female host.
"I have sothing I wanted to talk to you about."
He finally broached the subject, though his heart was still filled with hesitation. As far as he could tell, he was the only one with mories of the 31st repeating itself, a fact that seed to underscore his unique position.
But to conceal the matter for that reason, to simply wait for the next nightfall before making a plan, felt deeply wrong.
"Please, go on."
Miss Bevanna set down her teacup and gave Jenkins a gentle smile.
"Well, it's like this..."
He glanced at the potted flower on the windowsill and made a decision: he would count the petals. If the number was even, he would tell her. If it was odd, he would keep it to himself for now and wait for the stroke of midnight. He had to be sure this was a recurring phenonon, not just a fluke.
"...Seven... eight... nine... An odd number."
"Well, this morning, I went to have my pocket watch repaired. It was at that shop right by the Central Plaza—do you know the one?"
When she nodded, he swallowed hard and went on. "Ordinarily, it would have been nothing remarkable. I had no desire to linger outside in this cold. But the gear used to monitor A-08-1-9990 suddenly beca intensely hot. It was only for a second—just a single instant."
He stressed the point repeatedly. The real reason was the syringe hidden in the middle-aged shopkeeper's right chanical arm; there had been no reaction from the gear until the man produced it. By insisting the heat was montary, he could later attribute it to a malfunction in the man's prosthetic if anyone questioned why the gear had reacted at all.
Miss Bevanna nodded, indicating for Jenkins to continue.
"That's what happened. It absolutely wasn't my imagination. Oh, and one more thing. There was a standing clock in the shop that gave a very strange feeling. You know how sensitive I am to the presence of spirit. That clock... how can I describe it?"
The writer, now fully in character, frowned as if struggling to find the words. "It was like... like when I was choosing a Bestowal before the Hall of All Things. Yes, that was the feeling."
He rose from the sofa and materialized his Book of mories. Flipping it open to the first page, he revealed an image from his mory: the likeness of C-08-2-2218, the [Stopped Clock].
Miss Bevanna's eyes narrowed, her expression growing grave. She recognized this Bestowal!
"Are you certain it was this specific clock that gave you that special feeling?"
She had to be certain, as the clock's design was exceedingly common—one could find a similar model in nearly any shop.
"Yes."
Jenkins was positive. He had possessed it, however briefly. It was undoubtedly a Bestowal.
"I understand."
Miss Bevanna rose, draping the greatcoat she had been wearing over the back of her chair. With a light shake of the large to she was never without, she then retrieved another jacket.
"Do you need my help?"
"No, no, no."
She wagged a finger gently. "This matter likely involves a wanted criminal with a five-figure bounty, Mr. Williams. Oh, let's just call you Jenkins. Jenkins, matters like these are best left to the professionals. Please, ensure your own safety. It would be best if you didn't leave the church at all today..."
Even without her reminder, Jenkins had no intention of leaving. No matter what was going on, the church, protected by the Sage's divine power, would be the safest place. He had already resolved to spend the night here.
By revealing what he knew about the shopkeeper, he could verify the accuracy of his mories of "yesterday" and, at the sa ti, confirm once and for all whether the standing clock was truly involved.
Regardless, if "tomorrow" turned out to be the 31st again, he would have to tell the Church about the ti loop.
After bidding farewell to Miss Bevanna, a worried Jenkins stood in place and sighed. He stroked Chocolate, who was trying to paw at his face, looked around, and prepared to head to the Hall of All Things.
No living creatures were permitted in the storerooms, libraries, and archives behind the Hall of All Things. Jenkins had, therefore, never brought Chocolate inside. This ti was no exception. He entrusted his cat to the care of a Keeper of Secrets, explained his intentions, and even borrowed a pocket watch from the man before stepping through the bronze doors, which stood open just a crack.
The second floor of the Secret Trace Library was filled with the familiar scent of expensive candles and incense. Jenkins drew a deep breath, feeling his frayed nerves begin to settle.
"Calm yourself."
He told himself this, stood still for a few seconds to compose himself, and then strode towards the depths of the bookshelves.
Since he knew the number and the na, he quickly found the information on C-08-2-2218, the [Stopped Clock].
The Church's records on this [Bestowal] were very sparse, consisting of only a very blurry black-and-white picture and half a page of text on parchnt.
[Initial Origin: 7th Epoch, during the founding of the Church of the Ingenious Craftsman. The Church's main forces resolved a unique temporal Cursed Item incident (Further details require clearance from the Holy See). The clock absorbed the blood of a devout believer, a trace of divinity, and the residual power from the temporal event, thereby forming this [Bestowal]. Function: Unknown. Related to the manipulation of ti. Specifics: Unknown.
Addendum: The manipulation of ti is an exceedingly dangerous act. To control ti is to pay a disproportionate price.]
"The Ingenious Craftsman, a great and Righteous God..."
Jenkins's expression was grave. So, the creation of a [Bestowal] was truly tied to the divine. That much had beco increasingly clear over the course of several incidents.
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