Chapter 149 “Behind the Curtain?”
This Translation is hosted on bcatranslation
The exterior of the community church was noticeably deteriorated as if it had been neglected for years and left to the ravages of time. However, the interior presented a stark contrast: it was clean, well-lit, and bright. As Duncan took in his surroundings, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was another layer lurking beneath the immaculate facade, as if an “alternate reality” of decay and neglect coexisted within the walls.
This peculiar atmosphere gave Duncan a sense of disquiet. The church felt like a “mistaken space” that overlaid the real world as if it were a place forgotten by time and ensnared in some sort of temporal anomaly. It was as if two conflicting histories had collided and coalesced at this very point, but the church seemed to have frozen in time at that intersection, its internal passage of time suspended indefinitely.
It wasn’t a dilapidated ruin, nor did it bear the marks of surviving a catastrophic fire. So, what could the sole nun living in this mysterious church possibly know about its mysterious condition?
“It’s been a long time since anyone visited this church,” said the nun, who was dressed in a traditional black habit. As she lifted her head to smile, her eyes seemed to look past both Shirley and Duncan, who stood before her. “Where did you come from? You’re not from around here, are you?”
The setting inside the church was bright and welcoming, but at that moment, a sudden chill crept down Shirley’s spine. She leaned toward Duncan and nervously whispered, “Why does this place feel so wrong? The exterior is falling apart, but inside, it’s so different.”
Duncan simply patted Shirley on the shoulder, understanding from her reaction that she was perceiving only one “aspect” of the church—the well-kept interior. He couldn’t find the right words to express his own complicated feelings about the place. He considered that if they were to summon their dark hound, its special “eyes” might uncover the church’s true nature.
However, before trying to determine the nun’s real character, Duncan decided it would be imprudent to summon the dark hound so hastily.
“We’re just passing through,” Duncan answered the nun, feigning the nonchalance of an ordinary visitor. “Have you been living here the whole time?”
“I have,” said the nun, her head bobbing gently in acknowledgment. “I’ve been here, praying to a greater presence.”
“But the neighbors say the nun from this church has been missing for some time,” Duncan said cautiously, trying to gauge her reaction. “They claim this place has been in a state of neglect and appears to have been abandoned for years.”
The nun listened without betraying any particular emotion as if she had achieved a state of eternal calm. She merely offered a faint, almost enigmatic, smile. “Oh, is that so? But I’ve been here all along… Maybe the community has forgotten the days of active prayer here and assumed the church was closed.”
Duncan gave no outward response, but inwardly, he felt a sense of confirmation. It wasn’t just the church that was awash in mysteries; the entire neighborhood in the Sixth District seemed to be grappling with similar inexplicable issues.
The church seemed to be an anomaly within the neighborhood. Although it appeared abandoned and had the look of a building neglected for over a decade, its significance in the community shouldn’t have allowed for such disrepair. In this world, churches are not merely sanctuaries for spiritual solace; they also function as vital community centers for local security. They serve as barriers against dark forces that emerge after nightfall and provide healing to those haunted by psychological turmoil or plagued by nightmares. So, the fact that such an essential institution had been unused for eleven years was all the more bewildering. The residents’ casual explanation that “the nun hasn’t been around lately” seemed as strange as a community lacking water or electricity for over a decade and merely shrugging it off.
Imagine a town where no one had access to basic utilities for eleven years, and if asked about it, the residents would simply say, “Well, the utilities department hasn’t been functional recently.” The sheer absurdity of it would be off the charts.
Duncan was still unsure about the nun’s true nature. Every so often, his vision would waver, and he’d see her resembling a humanoid mound of ashes. Despite this disturbing imagery, his brief interaction with her gave him the impression that she harbored no malice.
Not only did she seem free from any animosity, but her mental state also appeared to be atypical. She wasn’t irrational per se, but there was something noticeably off about her level of awareness. Under normal circumstances, a resident nun would be somewhat bewildered if a stranger suddenly entered the church and began asking an array of disconnected questions. However, she responded to Duncan’s queries with a calmness that hinted at her not being fully engaged with the situation.
She was rational, but only to a limited extent.
“Would you like to pray? Or perhaps you require help in calming your spirit or dispelling evil?” the nun inquired softly, her smile as gentle as ever.
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” Duncan shook his head. He then casually glanced around the room and asked, “By the way, where are the guardians of this church?”
Every church is expected to have guardians—forces capable of dealing with various kinds of threats. Even the smallest and most impoverished community churches would have such protectors. This seemingly abandoned church should be no different.
“The guardians are resting within the church; they only appear after dark,” the nun replied, her placid smile unaltered. “Are you asking about the guardians for any specific reason?”
Duncan chose not to answer. Instead, his gaze drifted to the rows of benches beside the nun. In his vision, images of a catastrophic fire and its subsequent ashen remnants seemed to overlap onto the pristine interior of the church. Within this haunting dual reality, he also saw what appeared to be several charred human bodies.
“Are the guardians resting over there?” Duncan gestured toward a spot not far from where they stood. To Shirley’s eyes, that area contained nothing more than two empty rows of benches. But for Duncan, it was as if the space held secrets that were both harrowing and inexplicable.
The nun hesitated for a moment, her eyes following the line of Duncan’s outstretched finger toward the empty benches. After a brief pause, she softly whispered, “Shh… they’re sleeping.”
“Would it be alright if we look around?” Duncan inquired, adopting a casual tone.
“Of course, the church is always open to visitors,” the nun responded, nodding gently as she spoke. “Feel free to explore. I’ll be here, continuing with my prayers. Just call for me if you require any assistance.”
With those words, the mysterious nun turned her back on them and began walking toward a statue of a goddess positioned at a short distance. Duncan and Shirley watched as she moved away until she was lost in her devotion, effectively leaving them to their own devices.
The atmosphere seemed to lighten the moment the nun was out of immediate sight. Shirley, who had been visibly tense, exhaled a long sigh of relief. At this point, any initial apprehensions she had about Duncan had paled in comparison to the unsettling atmosphere of the church. Even their hidden dark hound Dog, appeared agitated, which Shirley could sense through their psychic link. She instinctively moved closer to Duncan. “What exactly is happening here? That nun gives me the creeps. She might look normal, but there’s something incredibly unsettling about her.”
“It appears we’re standing in two churches at once,” Duncan replied softly, attempting to articulate the complex situation. “One version of the church has been destroyed by fire, while the other version remains perfectly intact. Both versions seem to coexist in this particular space-time continuum. As for the nun, she exists in a state that’s neither fully living nor dead.”
Shirley stood frozen, her face a mixture of confusion and disbelief. After a prolonged silence, she finally managed to ask, “What are you talking about? What does that even mean?”
Duncan looked at her, a bit amused. “You might benefit from reading more books on the subject. Or, if you prefer, I could always educate you myself.”
Without waiting for Shirley’s reply, Duncan began to walk deeper into the church. The nun had granted them permission to explore, and he intended to take full advantage of the opportunity.
Shirley hesitated briefly, then quickened her pace to catch up with Duncan. They moved past rows of neatly aligned benches and went by various religious statues and a prayer altar. They finally reached the spot where the tranquil nun was kneeling before a statue of the Storm Goddess. Her hands were gently pressed against her chest as she prayed fervently, oblivious to their presence. It was as if she had been in that exact position for the past eleven years, enveloped in ceaseless prayer.
Duncan blinked, and for a split second, his vision shifted again. The nun momentarily appeared as a writhing heap of ash shaped like a human adjacent to a prayer altar that was similarly charred and ruined. Flecks of what looked like firelight drifted down from the church’s vaulted ceiling, reminiscent of falling autumn leaves.
Just then, Duncan felt a strange sensation. He lifted his gaze to the statue of the Storm Goddess. For a moment, it seemed as if the statue was more than just a carved piece of stone; it felt as if it was imbued with some form of ancient, sentient energy.
The statue of the goddess, elegantly attired in a flowing gown, was perched atop a raised platform. But as Duncan’s eyes moved upward to the statue’s face, he noticed something deeply unsettling—a stark crack that marred the forehead of the divine figure.
For a fleeting moment, Duncan felt as though he was peering into a core reality that underlay the church’s puzzling duality. He observed that the crack on the goddess’s head wasn’t merely a physical flaw. Within the dark crevice, he glimpsed what seemed like shadowy, chaotic lights flickering sporadically. It was as though an uncanny eye had formed, lying horizontally across the fractured stone. Within this eye, images swirled that appeared to have been plucked from a realm entirely alien to our understanding of reality. The atmosphere of sanctity and reverence that one would naturally expect to surround a religious statue was conspicuously absent. In its place was a chilling void that seemed to emanate from the stone figure, filling the air with an intangible sense of dread.
Just as suddenly as it appeared, the horrifying vision dissipated, leaving no trace of its malevolent aura. The statue of the goddess, which Duncan now knew as Gomona, resumed its quiet vigil on its pedestal. It looked as it should, an inspiring figure exuding both comfort and awe over the sacred space it dominated.
The nun, who had been kneeling in deep prayer before the statue, suddenly opened her eyes. Slowly and deliberately, she turned her head to look directly at Duncan. Her gaze was calm but penetrated deeply, as though she were capable of seeing right through him.
“Would you like to offer prayers to the goddess?” she asked, her voice devoid of any particular emotion yet somehow imbued with a mysterious sense of stillness that made Duncan question the very fabric of the reality he was experiencing.
Once a teacher always a teacher?
Man this is scary
Good thing our man is a natural counter to supernatural forces…