Chapter 187

Chapter 187: Ritual Dream

Not far from the cell, in another room, Song Cheng held his breath as he stared at a screen. It showed the live image, with several other monitors beside it scrolling numbers and layered videos with filters.

Bai Li Qing sat next to him, face calm as she watched.

“Director, did you see it just now?” Song Cheng glanced back at Bai Li Qing’s blank face, “When that Doll made her move…”

“I saw it,” Bai Li Qing said lightly, “threads of some unknown nature that exist in reality, able to act on body and mind at the same time. But… they are not the same as the threads used by Alice’s Doll as I remember them.”

Song Cheng nodded, solemn. He turned his eyes to the feed again.

When Yu Sheng was “talking reason” with the cultist, he was not surprised. When Yu Sheng and Foxy healed the man three times and “critiqued” him three times, neither he nor Bai Li Qing reacted. One is an action squad captain, the other the Special Affairs Bureau Director. Both are used to blood and storms. They have rules and duties, but when facing cultists, using deadly force is not rare. Yu Sheng’s style of “interrogation,” only hitting and not asking, though odd, was something they could accept.

After Irene acted, it was different.

“The instruments recorded a series of special energy spikes,” said a middle-aged technician in uniform nearby, watching the numbers scroll. “The waveform is strange. Its features do not match any ‘power’ we have on record, including Blessings given by Ancient Holy Spirits or the spells used by ‘cultivators.’”

He switched the graphs to the main screen for Song Cheng and Bai Li Qing. Jagged curves shook so hard that many parts ran off the axes. Then a set of 3D plots appeared, the shifting surfaces dizzying to watch.

“…Many points go beyond the sensor’s range,” Bai Li Qing’s brows drew tight. The corner of her eye flicked to the main feed showing the Doll “Irene.” Her face grew more grave as she asked, “Leaning toward an Entity?”

“Not like an Entity. An Entity’s energy feature is simpler. It wouldn’t push the reading like this.”

Bai Li Qing hesitated, rare for her, and spoke low: “…Dark Angels?”

The technician looked shocked, maybe even a bit horrified. But when he saw the Director’s serious, calm face, he swallowed and answered plainly: “No. At least nothing in our database matches. And, off the record, if this were truly Dark Angels’ power entering the real world, there wouldn’t be many survivors left on this floor right now.”

Bai Li Qing said nothing. She kept her eyes on the three figures in the feed.

First, “Yu Sheng,” who thought he was human. Then Foxy, who likely came from outside the world. Now the Doll “Irene,” who sat beyond the System’s understanding. This “Hotel,” as expected, had not a single normal one.

“Keep recording,” after a pause, Bai Li Qing exhaled, “and classify everything we captured today as confidential.”

…

Yu Sheng moved with the borrowed sight, walking slowly through the empty, abandoned warehouse.

He followed Irene’s rules, keeping his presence as low as he could. He did not stare into corners. He did not try to control this “body.”

The bald Angel Cultist was “dreaming,” walking through a scene Irene had woven to help memory surface. He had forgotten, for now, that he had been caught. But if he sensed someone else inside his thoughts, he would wake at once.

Within his limited view, Yu Sheng studied the place and listened.

There were car horns, but far away. This spot was not close to the busy city. He could see many stacked metal containers, with pipes hanging down from steel beams above. Some tanks had worn danger signs under grime. It looked like a chemical warehouse.

There were no lights on, but sunlight fell through a few high windows. It felt like dawn or dusk. Some corners were very dark. He could not tell if they were truly that black, or if the cultist’s memory had “masked” them on purpose.

Extra footsteps sounded nearby. They pulled Yu Sheng’s attention at once.

The view he shared looked left and right with care and then seemed to relax a little after spotting a sign scratched on a tank. He skirted the big container and went through a passage at the end of the warehouse into a hidden room. A dim bulb burned there. Oddly shaped candles were lit on the floor. Several figures stood around them, as if they had been waiting a long time.

Several figures?

So there were more Angel Cultists hiding in Boundary City who worshiped some secret Dark Angels. The two they had caught were not all. Yu Sheng’s heart stirred. He glanced at the figures, wanting to make out their faces.

But at once he found that every face was covered by a black mist. Even their bodies were cloaked in a fuzzy twist that hid their shapes. No matter how he tried, he could not see them. A faint rejection pricked at him. He tensed and stopped the kind of staring that might expose him.

[So their faces and builds are hidden. Is that a trick they used in the real world, so one caught member won’t betray the others? Or a protection rooted in the subconscious, so even in this relaxed dream he censors his partners?] Yu Sheng kept his face blank and lowered his presence even more while he watched what they did next.

“You are late,” one shadow turned toward the last arrival.

“Talking with that Curiosities Association member took longer. I had to be careful so he wouldn’t suspect,” said the host of Yu Sheng’s view. “He only just felt the Lord’s guidance. He is not devout or firm yet. He still keeps his guard up against us.”

Yu Sheng focused at once: [They are talking about Old Zheng!]

“Mm… is it going well?” another figure asked.

“All is well. The target has searched for a way to fight the Fairy Tale for years. He wants this path more than anything. He still doubts, but I believe he has begun trying the Spirit Summoning Technique I left. The Lord’s power has already taken root in his mind. His ‘conversion’ is only a matter of time.”

“…Do we really accept such a ‘convert’?” someone said from a corner. “He is not a proper vessel, only a fit for our current needs. If he truly converts, his link to the Fairy Tale might interfere with the Lord’s Descent.”

“Deal with him after it is done,” said the first speaker, tone flat. “Being able to aid the Lord’s Descent at all is a great honor for him. To die with a ‘clean’ record is the Lord’s mercy. And a person with rank in a big Organization brings a lot of trouble once exposed. We cannot keep him long.”

The other shadows nodded at once, pleased.

That settled it.

Then the scene blurred. The dream shifted again.

They were still in the warehouse’s control room. The shadows had moved to new spots. They stood around the candles in a pattern. One figure stepped up and added some incense to the flames. Then they bent low and smeared blood on the floor in careful strokes.

They chanted words hard to bear, praying with devotion. The candle flames swayed. With the prayer they began to sway in unison. The incense spread strange colors in the light. Smoke rose like a solid curtain and wrapped the shadows. They drank a doubtful liquid and then spoke as one: “We pray to you, may you break free soon; we pray to you, may you wake soon; we pray to you, may you descend soon; we chant your name so you find the road to waking in our chant, we chant your name as you heard it when you set off from that far and faded road: An-Ka-Ai-La, mother and cradle, hope and future! Protector! Comforter! First and last caretaker! The Reciter! The Soother! The feeder of babies and children! An-Ka-Ai-La! You and those you shelter will break the shell at last. The realm prepared for your Descent is about to open.”

They prayed, their voices neat like one mind controlled them. They kept repeating a word with a strange sound. As the creepy rite went on, Yu Sheng saw a hole silently tear open in the roof. A hideous tentacle slipped down from it, hissing with a noise that made his head ache.

The cultists fell into madness. Even without seeing their faces, their joy seemed to grow into a living thing that filled the whole room.

Just as the tentacle was about to brush them and give a new Blessing, the candles on the floor suddenly snapped and popped, like too many impurities had built up. The flames lost their neat rhythm. The smoke-curtain that marked some kind of “boundary” ripped and fell away.

The tentacle shrieked in a piercing howl and vanished into the air in the blink of an eye.