Chapter 156: “The Year That Disappeared”
This Translation is hosted on bcatranslation.com
The elderly priest spoke in a calm, detached manner, as if he were merely narrating a story rather than participating in it.
“Apologies for my rambling. When you’ve lived as long as I have, it’s easy to get carried away,” he said, offering a warm, apologetic smile to Vanna. “I’m curious, do you have friends from other faith communities?”
Vanna paused, reflecting before she responded. “I have a close friend who belongs to the Truth Academy, but she rarely talks about their beliefs in Lahem, their god of wisdom.”
“Followers of the god of wisdom? Their teachings are indeed often reserved. Their doctrines are so complex that a university-level education is often required to grasp them. Some even have to pass advanced mathematics tests to be considered true believers,” the old priest said, nodding as if this were entirely expected. “Conversely, followers of the god of death are more accessible. Death is a universal experience we all will face.”
He paused, looking at the rows of meticulously organized files behind Vanna. “Your Grace, may I ask what exactly you are searching for?”
Vanna hesitated, uncertain whether revealing the specifics of her quest to the old priest was wise. The matter of the erased fire incident could pose significant risks. Discussing it openly might alert unknown, potentially dangerous entities, especially those unprepared for the truth.
After a brief internal debate, she decided to share some information. They were in the innermost chamber of the church, devoted to the storm goddess. Despite the priest’s age and lack of combat fitness, she trusted his integrity and unwavering commitment to the light.
“I’m searching for a specific record. ‘Record’ might be misleading since I’m not sure if it even exists,” Vanna began cautiously. “To be precise, I’m looking for clues related to an event supposedly occurring in the sixth month of 1889. It likely involved a major fire, but all information about it seems to have been mysteriously erased.”
The priest frowned, deep in thought. “A great fire in 1889? I can’t recall any such event.”
He then looked at Vanna intently. “Are you suggesting that even our memories might have been manipulated to forget this incident?”
“Very possibly,” Vanna replied, her expression grave. “I have nothing concrete to verify the fire’s existence or any leads on who might be orchestrating these erasures. My investigation is purely based on my suspicions.”
She felt a sudden self-consciousness. As an inquisitor, she was trained to investigate rigorously and skeptically. But this case was unlike any she had tackled before—no clear target, no way to determine if she was dealing with a spectral entity or a living being, and her inquiry was initiated by her instinctual hunch, quite at odds with her usual methodical approach.
The elderly priest, unfazed by Vanna’s hesitation and self-doubt, nodded serenely. “Your faith and character speak volumes, Your Excellency,” he said with conviction.
With those words, he limped briskly to a column between nearby bookshelves. Using his mechanical prosthetic hand, he tapped a specific sequence of bulges on the pillar. The sound of pistons and gears rumbled from below the floor.
Suddenly, the heavy doors to the archive sealed shut. The bookshelves rearranged themselves in a complex dance, making way for pillars adorned with ancient runes to rise from below. During this mechanical metamorphosis, Vanna felt a soft whisper of wave-like sounds wash over her thoughts, a clear indication that the protective barrier had been activated.
“Is all of this really necessary?” Vanna asked, puzzled by the priest’s dramatic actions. “I’m still in the preliminary stages of my investigation.”
“Experience has taught me there’s nothing ‘preliminary’ about a significant threat,” the priest said, hobbling back to Vanna. Raising his intricate brass mechanical hand, he gestured at the rows of files and tomes. “Given that we’re dealing with something potent enough to manipulate collective memory, I’d say my security measures are warranted.”
“But won’t this sudden locking down of the archives raise questions among others?” Vanna asked.
“No,” the priest chuckled, revealing his jagged teeth. “The layout of these archives changes randomly multiple times a month to prevent the degradation or corruption of the sacred texts. Remember, the rule is to never let these ancient manuscripts stagnate.”
“Very well, then I have no further objections,” Vanna conceded.
The priest then turned back to the matter at hand. “I noticed you were perusing numerous reports earlier. Judging by your expression, it seems you’ve found something intriguing. Would you like my assistance?”
“Yes,” Vanna admitted. “I came across fragmented records related to ‘heretical worship.’ While not directly related to the incident I’m investigating, there’s an interesting pattern. These heretical activities occurred in the first half of 1889. Then, coinciding with a factory leak in the sixth block, they suddenly ceased.”
The old priest paid close attention, nodding as Vanna spoke. Guided by her directions, he located the pertinent archival materials.
“Here it is!” Vanna exclaimed, pointing to the unearthed documents. “The rituals listed, which should have been ineffectual, along with reports of substantial psychological damage and localized outbreaks of madness, all point to actual heretical practices. The concluding reports on these activities seem standard, yet something feels amiss. I can’t shake the feeling that these investigations were concluded hastily or inadequately.”
The priest scrutinized the documents, sensing the gravity of Vanna’s findings. They were wading into dangerous territory, and the protective measures he had enacted felt more justified than ever.
“In a case of this magnitude, simply apprehending and prosecuting those involved can often be considered thorough. However, you have a point,” the old priest said, furrowing his brows as he looked over the documents. “When we see multiple similar incidents happening within a short timeframe, it’s not just happenstance. Each report notes the perpetrators were ‘inexplicably bewitched,’ yet the source of this enticement remains elusive.”
As he muttered to himself, he suddenly looked up as if a light bulb had gone off in his head.
“Your Grace, your research was limited to the records from 1889, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Vanna nodded, quickly catching on to what he was implying. “Are you suggesting that—”
“Exactly,” the old priest interjected. “The events you’re investigating may have taken place in 1889, but who’s to say these anomalies started that year? Let’s consult the records from earlier years. They are located down here,” he gestured toward the lower shelves, “you can start from the bottom and work your way up to the top three rows.”
Vanna moved swiftly to the indicated section and began perusing the files. Within moments, both she and the priest found additional reports chronicling similar instances of heretical worship dating back to 1888, 1887, and even as far back as 1886.
“Look here,” Vanna exclaimed, “there’s another case report about a sacrificial ritual that took place in the port area. And it happened just two months after the last recorded incident!”
As she flipped through the pages, her heart racing with excitement at the thought of stumbling upon a crucial lead, she noticed the old priest staring intently at an empty space on a bookshelf.
“Did you find something?” she inquired, her voice tinged with concern.
“It seems the records for 1885 are missing,” the priest murmured. “They should be right here, following the 1884 files. But after 1884, it jumps straight to 1886.”
…..
“Let’s call it a day,” Duncan said, casting a final glance toward the unsettling church they had just left. “We’ve done all we can here. From this point on, we’ll need external assistance to crack this case, especially since we’re dealing with distortions in time and space.”
“Can I really go home now?” Shirley asked, her voice tinged with anxiety and uncertainty.
“Of course. I’ve never limited your freedom,” Duncan said, smiling as he gently ruffled her hair. Though Shirley was roughly the same age as Nina, her petite and slender frame made him instinctively treat her like a much younger person. “We’re done investigating for today. You can head home.”
Shirley hesitated, took a couple of steps toward her home, then paused and turned back. “Will we continue this investigation in the future?”
Her words hung in the air, reflecting the weight of the unanswered questions that loomed over them all.
“Rest assured, our investigation is far from concluded,” Duncan said, arching an eyebrow at her. “Why? Are you hesitant to go back home?”
“No, no, not at all!” Shirley hastily shook her head, her eyes wide. “I was just wondering how we’ll proceed next time.”
“I’ll either reach out to you, or you can come find me,” Duncan assured her with another warm smile, affectionately ruffling her hair again. “And not just for the investigation; feel free to reach out if you find yourself in any sort of trouble.”
Shirley blinked, considering the weight of his offer, then gave a somewhat awkward nod. Just as she was about to walk away, she suddenly blurted out another question: “So, what are your plans now?”
Duncan paused, surprised by the question. “I plan to buy a bicycle this afternoon.”
Shirley was taken aback. “Wait, what?”
“Yes, a bicycle,” Duncan reiterated earnestly. “I promised my niece Nina that I’d get her one. It’s been a few days, and I need to follow through on my word. Is that surprising?”
Shirley stood there, mouth agape, struggling to process this information. Finally, she stammered, “I—I thought you’d be doing something more like invading subspace or something.”
Before they could delve deeper into this notion, a burst of black flame appeared beside Shirley and yelled, “I never said that!”
Just as abruptly, the flame disappeared, leaving no chance for a reply. It seemed Dog was too afraid to show itself more explicitly.
Duncan stood there, momentarily speechless, before breaking into a grin. Deciding to play along, he said, “Alright, let’s go with that. I’m off to purchase a bicycle for my niece, but I’ll do it within subspace. Does that work for you?”
The atmosphere was ripe with unspoken humor, serving as a brief but welcome respite from the gravity of their ongoing investigation.
Thank you for the chapter!
After lotm this is the only story that made me so interested in it. And your translation quality is also great. Keep up the good work.
Okay now this is getting even more eerily intresting….like absence of any record of an entire year !!!! That’s even more creepy than the memory erasure of an even….. that’s some really high level plot
Ayy this author has another book – Record if Unusual Creatures or something. Fully translated.
And LOTM book 2 is out now as well
There’s some pretty chilling entries and stories over at SCP on cognito/infohazards. There’s a horrifying one about a cognitohazard that is killing and erasing the presence of almoat anyone that becomes aware of it. One researcher discvers that the SCP department that deals with those particular kinds of cases is way, way too small. There used to be like 10x the amount of people and facilities used to contain and study cognitohazards, but they’ve been disappearing and so has almost everyone that realizes this.
This is getting creepier. Just who are the enemies that managed to not only altered the memories of so many people but also infiltrated the church and erased the entire record of one whole year?