Chapter 194: “Transmit”

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.

Vanna found herself drawn back to the archives yet again. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly why she kept returning, but a deep seated sense of unease and a looming crisis propelled her to retrace her steps. It felt as though she had missed something crucial, something she couldn’t quite grasp.

Another compelling reason for her return was the simple fact that she had nowhere else to go.

Ever since her deep connection with the Vanished and its captain, she had been under constant surveillance. Though she still held the title of inquisitor for the city-state of Pland, it was more due to the lack of anyone else to assume her substantial responsibilities. Consequently, she was mostly confined to the cathedral, only stepping out for essential duties.

With her freedom restricted, Vanna sought refuge in distractions, and the archives provided a perfect sanctuary, shielding her from the complexities of the outside world.

She moved silently among the towering bookshelves, her every step echoing in the vast room. Yet, she was not completely alone. A few paces behind her, a middle-aged priest followed, his lantern casting a soft, warm light, serving both as a guide and a safeguard against any lurking malevolence.

Vanna found herself in the section housing documents from 1889 and 1885. She had visited this place before, delving into records, uncovering sinister hints of sporadic heretical sacrifices, and eventually stumbling upon some missing files. These memories played over and over in her mind, forming a consistent narrative. However, her instincts, honed by years as an inquisitor, told her something was off, leading her to question her own recollections.

“Your Excellency?” The priest’s voice broke the silence, echoing through the chamber after a prolonged pause.

“There’s something wrong… I remember not being alone during my last visit. Someone was with me… but who could it have been?”

Vanna seemed oblivious to the priest’s presence, her entire focus on the puzzle before her. Memories of the Sixth District chapel and the departed nun resurfaced.

It dawned on her that everyone had forgotten about that particular section of the cathedral, which explained why it remained hidden for so long.

“Is my lapse in memory similar to how everyone forgot about the chapel? They overlooked it, creating a void. What crucial detail am I missing, just like them? When did this collective amnesia occur?”

“Your Grace?” The priest’s voice called out again, this time more assertively, demanding her attention.

The air was thick with tension as Vanna sensed a storm gathering around her. She also noticed the subtle movement of the middle-aged priest’s hand, inching toward the gun at his waist.

Calmly breaking the silence, Vanna asked, “How long have you served as an archivist here?”

The sense of the storm gradually receded, causing the priest to relax his posture. He bowed his head respectfully and replied, “For seven years now, ever since I took early retirement.”

Vanna inquired further, “You aren’t the only archivist here, are you?”

The priest explained, “No, there’s another besides me. An older woman manages the night shifts. Both of us are retirees from the guardian force.”

With a casual demeanor, Vanna continued their conversation while walking among the bookshelves. “Just the two of you? Doesn’t the workload ever become overwhelming?”

The priest was direct in his response, “The daily tasks of an archivist aren’t typically demanding. Our trainees handle the filing and organization based on our guidelines. The only strenuous activities we might occasionally engage in involve transporting certain sensitive materials. Our primary duty is vigilance – to spot inconsistencies or anomalies. Given our vast experience, younger staff members often seek our counsel.”

Pausing for a moment, the priest added, “That said, two staff members on rotation isn’t ideal. If any unforeseen events occur, one of us would have to disturb the other to fill in. In my opinion, a team of three would be more efficient.”

Absorbed in thought, Vanna echoed, “Three…” Then, redirecting the conversation, she asked, “Has the missing data from 1885 been found?”

Shaking his head regretfully, the priest replied, “No, despite our efforts. After you identified the discrepancies, we mobilized hundreds of trainees and clerics to search the entire archive. Unfortunately, our search yielded no results.”

A silent understanding passed between them as Vanna locked her gaze onto the priest. After a momentary pause, the priest offered a slightly apprehensive smile.

She reassured him, “Don’t worry. I’ve only encountered that phantom captain once. My faculties are still intact. However, if you observe any odd behavior from me, please notify me immediately, and I promise to do the same for you. My professional integrity remains undiminished.”

With a sigh, the priest responded, “My apologies. It’s just that I’ve seen many colleagues fade away due to lapses in judgment.”

Vanna nodded in agreement, wandering around the aisle as if searching for something. As she roamed, her vision blurred for a split second, and she imagined she saw a vague silhouette lingering by a desk near the entrance.

The shock caused Vanna’s eyes to widen dramatically, but just as quickly as the figure appeared, it vanished.

The middle-aged priest, observing her sudden change in demeanor, inquired with concern, “Your Grace, did you see something unusual?”

Taking a moment to process, she finally responded, “I thought I saw something… But let’s confirm. Come.”

Without giving the priest time to respond, Vanna quickly began walking toward the desk. Within moments, her brisk walk turned into a near run. As she approached the curved desk, there was no sign of any figure. However, a curious mechanical device was prominently displayed on the desk, presumably for administrative tasks.

Vanna, undeterred, moved to the other side of the desk, inspecting closely. Hidden behind a small screen on the side of the desk were a few abandoned mechanical parts. Covered in layers of rust, they seemed ancient, as if forgotten for years. Their shapes suggested they were once part of a mechanical puzzle cube.

But what caught her off guard was the peculiar scent that wafted towards her as she inspected these relics. It was an unusual combination of mechanical grease mingled with the fragrance of incense.

The priest, now by her side with his lantern, voiced his confusion, “What are these artifacts? Who could have left them behind?”

Vanna pointed out some additional oddities she discovered on the table: oily residues that seemed to outline a particular pattern or symbol.

Her heartbeat quickened, and suddenly a piercing noise reverberated in her mind, causing her vision to fluctuate between clarity and darkness. Yet, rather than inducing fear, this disorienting sensation sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through her.

Vanna recognized the sensation – it was a divine sign from the goddess, alerting her of something significant nearby. The truth she sought was hidden somewhere in this archive!

Whispering a silent prayer to Gomona, the Storm Goddess, Vanna turned to the priest, “Hand me the lantern.”

Without hesitation, the priest passed her the lantern – an ornate device inscribed with sacred runes and powered by divine essence. As Vanna held it closer to the table’s greasy residues, a delicate plume of smoke or mist materialized momentarily before dissipating. And then, in the fleeting interplay of light and shadow, she discerned it – the mysterious “smudge.”

Etched in dark crimson blood, the symbol on the table appeared to be a desperate attempt, perhaps by a dying individual, to convey an urgent message. The mark depicted what seemed like a series of blazing bonfires encircling a central cylindrical object.

This was not a familiar amulet of the Storm Church, nor was it a blessing bestowed by the revered Storm Goddess, Gomona.

However, Vanna recognized it immediately – it was unmistakably the insignia of the Flame Bearers.

“Why would the Flame Bearers’ symbol be present within a storm sanctuary?” Vanna pondered internally. While it’s true that the four righteous deities are allies, often leading their respective churches to collaborate, they still represent distinct faiths.

Her mind raced, connecting fragmented memories: The Flame Bearers… The secluded chapel in the sixth block… The overlooked nun… The erased historical event… Another version of Pland lurking beneath the known reality…

Gasping for breath as realization dawned upon her, Vanna understood the gravity of the symbol’s presence. It was a dire warning, perhaps the final message from a forgotten guardian left to fend off an unknown adversary in this desolate archive.

“Someone has tampered with our history!” the young inquisitor declared, swiftly turning to address the priest overseeing the archives.

To her astonishment, she was met with sheer emptiness. The vast room appeared devoid of any other presence. It was as if, from the outset, she had been the sole occupant of the archives.

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