Chapter 119 “A Pair of Friends”

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In mere moments, the specialized group of the Storm Church shifted from merely identifying the potential of a dangerous, otherworldly anomaly within the museum to actively confronting it. These individuals began by chanting blessings to fortify themselves spiritually, and then they fearlessly charged into the burning museum.

Duncan observed the scene from a distance. He watched as highly trained firefighters took their positions in the square outside the museum. These firefighters unleashed torrents of water from their hoses, significantly cooling down the raging fire at the museum’s entrance to create a navigable path. Another group of individuals, also storm guardians, promptly formed a separate line. They wore insignias indicating their affiliation to the Storm Church, and their attire was adorned with what looked like mystical talismans. Undaunted, they followed the first wave, plunging into the inferno within the museum.

Meanwhile, law enforcement officers situated around the perimeter of the square shifted their focus to calming and evacuating the frightened and bewildered citizens. They initiated contact with neighboring chapels, asking them to take in people who had been “marked” or were suspected of suffering from mental contamination caused by the supernatural elements of the fire.

The response to the emergency was finely tuned and impeccably coordinated. This wasn’t their first encounter with the surreal; they had practiced for scenarios like this innumerable times and had even lived through actual events. They had developed specialized training to quickly identify and suppress the otherworldly elements hidden within natural disasters, bringing them down to a manageable level that ordinary citizens could withstand.

Such was the daily life in this prosperous city-state, a resilient community that had not only survived but thrived in a strange world rife with supernatural phenomena. Both those skilled in handling the supernatural and those trained in conventional professions had undergone rigorous education and practice, honing their responses down to nearly instinctual reactions, all in the name of community survival.

Though Duncan observed all these details, he had little time to contemplate them fully. Scanning the faces of the dirt-streaked and disheveled evacuees who were gathered at the edge of the square, he found no sign of Nina, whom he was desperately seeking.

Suddenly, his attention snapped back to the museum. He sensed a familiar aura emanating from the midst of the flames. Compelled to act, Duncan took a step towards the museum. But before he could move any further, a law enforcement officer stepped in his path. “Sir, it’s dangerous ahead. Please leave it to the professionals,” the officer warned.

Understanding the wisdom in the officer’s words, Duncan merely nodded and turned away. Engaging in a debate with the authorities would only waste precious time and impede the experts from doing their jobs. Being a pragmatic man, he quickly abandoned the idea of entering through the museum’s main entrance. Instead, he briskly navigated to a secluded spot on the opposite side of the square, where he concealed himself in the shadows. The next moment, a white dove soared across the square, diving through a window into the side of the flame-engulfed museum.

A few onlookers noticed the dove, but they assumed it was simply a terrified bird, disoriented by the heavy smoke and intense heat. They shook their heads, sighed, and returned their focus to the unfolding chaos.

Inside the museum, Duncan emerged from a swirling vortex of ghostly green flames, where he was immediately assaulted by the smoke, fire, and intense heat that dominated the interior of the building.

Duncan was unafraid of the elemental forces surrounding him; he was, after all, well-versed in dealing with the supernatural. However, he was acutely aware that his physical body was not invincible. While his soul might remain untouched by the conflagration, his mortal form would be rendered useless if exposed to the harsh conditions for too long.

But Duncan hadn’t charged into this perilous environment without a plan. Flames surrounded him, but he knew something crucial about them: they were creatures of obedience.

As he stood in the smoky haze, a faint green flame materialized beneath his feet, seemingly emanating from the very ground. It ebbed away almost instantly, but in that fleeting moment, Duncan established an ethereal connection with the flames engulfing the room. Just as he had felt during a previous encounter at a Sun Cult gathering in an abandoned factory basement, he sensed the willing subservience of the flames.

The blistering air currents around him began to shift subtly, no longer obstructing his respiratory system. Breathing easier now, Duncan approached the towering door blocked by an impenetrable wall of orangey-red.

“Step aside,” he commanded softly.

In an awe-inspiring display, the flames parted, retreating like a receding tide. They extinguished behind him, unveiling a corridor filled with a dense fog of smoke and smoldering remnants.

Duncan cast a glance over his shoulder, eyeing the architectural details and signage on the walls. He quickly deduced that he had emerged into an office situated at the periphery of the museum’s main exhibition area. The smoke-filled corridor ahead was likely used by museum staff, leading to the main gallery. Flanking the corridor were stairs or elevators that led to the upper and lower floors.

Gathering himself, Duncan ventured deeper into the corridor. As he walked, he reached out with his senses, attempting to locate Nina within the labyrinthine building. However, he had to admit to himself that the chances of successfully “finding” her were uncertain.

His psychic capabilities were undoubtedly above average, but he was not an expert in long-range detection of individual presences. He recalled a phrase Goathead once mentioned, that “the captain’s intuition is the most accurate guide.” Yet, this level of intuitive, remote sensing was still relatively new territory for him—something he’d read about in tales but never actually experienced.

The only reason he was attempting it now was that he had faintly sensed a familiar aura emanating from within the smoldering museum while standing outside in the square. The recognition of that aura had encouraged him to try his hand at this unfamiliar skill.

Continuing his cautious advance, Duncan found that the flames around him obediently retreated, extinguishing themselves in his wake. He was still unable to pinpoint Nina’s location, but then, he sensed something altogether different.

“Hmm?” he muttered, puzzled.

His eyes narrowed, focusing intently in the direction of his newfound perception. A few steps ahead, under the staircase leading to the lower level, he sensed a “mark” that was gradually becoming more distinct in his mind’s eye. It pulsed softly yet insistently.

Whoever—or whatever—bore this mark seemed to be very much alive and animated. Intrigued, Duncan felt a renewed sense of urgency. He knew he needed to investigate, and quickly.

Duncan’s hesitation lasted but a mere moment before he propelled himself toward the source of the pulsing mark. As he darted through the corridor, the flames obediently retreated and extinguished themselves in his wake. He descended a creaky, unstable staircase, extending his mystical control over the flames within the farthest reaches that his physical form could tolerate. All the while, the enigmatic mark grew increasingly vivid in his mind, accompanied now by a faint, almost ethereal voice.

“…Hands? Ah, these are just minor injuries on my hands. They’ll heal in two or three days…”

“Well, I’ve always been strong…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve blocked the gap in the door, so smoke can’t come in for now… You’re really clever to know about the water room here… Oh, did you look at the floor plan in advance? Did the teacher mention it in class? Safety education… Um… maybe I didn’t pay enough attention, haha…”

“You said you saw Dog just now? You must be mistaken. Where would Dog come from in this place? Haha…”

“… What about the one who’s unconscious here? You don’t know either? Well… at least she’s still alive… It’s alright, we’ll definitely be rescued…”

The voice was unmistakable: Shirley. Duncan recognized the mark as a small “flame” of spiritual energy he had placed on her some time ago. Her voice was being transmitted through this mark, echoing directly into his mind.

The familiar aura that had beckoned him from the square had originated from this very mark. Duncan had not intentionally activated the mark, but due to its proximity, he had picked up on its presence.

This was the first time he had employed such a mark, and its properties were still unfamiliar to him. Yet, it appeared to be more versatile than he’d initially realized, forging a connection through ghost flames that allowed him to tap into distant conversations. While he was intrigued by this newfound capability, another question flickered into his mind: who was Shirley talking to?

…..

Meanwhile, in the cramped, dimly-lit water room, Shirley and Nina had found temporary refuge. The space was sealed tightly enough to hold back the encroaching calamity for the moment. The sink’s faucet offered the comforting sound of rushing water, a small reprieve in this chamber of uncertainty. With the electrical lights rendered inoperative, the only illumination came from the flickering firelight that managed to penetrate the window.

Nina was crouched next to the water basin, her pulse almost deafening in her own ears. Shirley seemed resilient and was busily inspecting the sealing of the doors and windows to make sure no smoke could enter despite suffering minor burns on her hands. Lying a short distance away was another woman. Nina didn’t recognize her, but she had witnessed the woman being rendered unconscious by a falling brick during their frantic escape to this sanctuary. Together with Shirley, Nina had helped drag the injured woman into this makeshift haven.

As the two women waited in their dimly lit refuge, their focus was on survival—but outside, Duncan was closing in, guided by the ethereal pulse of the mark he had placed on Shirley. Each beat brought him closer to their location, and perhaps, to an unexpected reunion.

The unconscious woman, lying a few feet away from them, looked distinctly different from the denizens of the lower district where Nina lived. Her clothing and general demeanor suggested she was a lady of some standing from the more affluent areas of the city. But disaster was the great equalizer, Nina thought; in the face of calamity, distinctions of wealth and class were meaningless.

The trickling sound of water from the sink slowed to a dribble, then ceased altogether.

“The main water pump must have stopped,” Nina observed quietly, having been acutely tuned into the sounds around her. “The fire must be intense by now.”

Shirley, who was of a slightly shorter stature than Nina, walked over and crouched before her. Their eyes met in the gloom.

“Are you scared?” Shirley’s voice was hushed.

“Terrified of fire,” Nina admitted, hugging her knees to her chest and feeling her voice wobble. “Especially, especially of fire.”

Shirley paused, her eyes flicking downward for a moment before meeting Nina’s gaze again. “Truthfully, I’m petrified as well. In fact, fire scares me the most.”

“You don’t seem like it,” Nina shook her head. “You were bustling around so courageously earlier.”

“That’s because I’m scared,” Shirley said, letting herself slump onto the floor. “When I’m that terrified, and if I stop moving, I’m afraid I’ll become paralyzed with fear. Right now, we’re stuck here with nowhere to go, sitting like sitting ducks.”

Nina reached out timidly to touch Shirley’s arm and was surprised to feel it trembling.

So she’s genuinely frightened too.

“You swear,” Nina said softly, as if discovering a secret. “I thought you were the perfect, well-mannered student.”

Shirley’s face took on a sheepish, if somewhat sardonic, expression. “Given the circumstances, there’s no point in putting on a front. I’ve always been like this.” She seemed to be on the verge of saying something else but then changed her mind. “Never mind.”

She looked towards the door. “What do you think? How long can we last in here?”

Nina looked thoughtful. “I can’t say for certain, but as long as we keep the smoke out, we should be safe for a while. This room seems sturdy enough, and its location at the corner by the staircase should protect it from immediate collapse.”

Shirley nodded and said, “Oh,” as if absorbing this information. Then after another pause, she asked, “Let’s say, hypothetically, I had a way to get us out of here, but it might be frightening. Would you be willing to try?”

“A way?” Nina looked up, her eyes filled with confusion and a spark of hope. “What way?”

Shirley stood as if to explain but then thought better of it and sat back down. “Ah, forget it. Let’s wait for now. It’s not the right time, not the right time yet.”

Nina stared at her, more puzzled than ever. “What do you mean?”

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