Chapter 213
Chapter 213. Spider Web
After walking for about ten minutes, a magnificent and enormous hall suddenly opened up before us.
It was as luxurious as a royal ballroom, a scene that perfectly preserved its former glory.
A majestic pipe organ occupied an entire wall, while antique lamps and artworks adorned the space, all draped in cobwebs and thick layers of dust. Adjacent to the pipe organ, another wall bore a large black pattern, its paint gradually peeling with age. Oddly out of place in the center of the hall stood a massive table.
The scene was like my hallucination come to life.
A luxurious space long abandoned to time, an ominous pattern, and the table.
I briefly wondered if I’d seen the pipe organ in my hallucination, but the thought soon vanished. Even the tablecloth, rotted in places with patches of mold and covered in dust, matched what I’d seen.
But the rotten apple that should have been on the table was nowhere to be seen. Had someone cleared it away, anticipating our visit? Yet the thick layer of dust settled throughout the space testified that there hadn’t been any visitors here besides us for a long time.
What was this space meant for? Why was there such a large table here? Surely the cultists hadn’t held feasts with rotten apples. Though looking at the chairs arranged around the table, one thing was clear—it was meant for people to “gather around.”
I looked around again. The bald man was nowhere to be seen either.
Like when Bradley Miller realized their identity had been exposed after killing Turner, he must be watching us from somewhere in this place. I could still vividly recall those empty eyes staring at me as he leaned on the table in my hallucination. I walked around the vast hall, searching for traces of that mysterious man.
Though the ballroom was fairly well preserved, it felt desolate and ominous. The thick layers of dust, heavy cobwebs, patches of rust and mold, flowers withered and rotting, and windows shattered by overgrown shrubs forcing their way inside all contributed to this atmosphere.
While most details matched my hallucination, there were some differences. But since I’d only seen a fraction of it before, this wasn’t particularly strange. Just as I was lost in these thoughts—
Crack.
My shoe suddenly crushed a piece of glass. With each step, more glass fragments shattered with sharp cracking sounds.
‘Broken window pieces…? But the windows are too far away for that.’
Carefully lifting my foot to examine the floor, I saw fragments scattered across one section. Though too shattered to make out their original form, the lid fasteners suggested they were likely jars meant for fruit preserves or pickles.
…But why would there be glass jars in a ballroom?
An increasingly ominous sensation kept creeping up the back of my head and sending chills down my spine. What was causing it? I had a vague sense that something was wrong, but couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.
Fortunately, there seemed to be no contents left in the jars, sparing my shoes from any nasty substances. This was an abandoned mansion where even mold had taken hold. If there had been anything in those jars, it would certainly have rotted—I didn’t even want to imagine the horror of stepping in that!
“Liam, watch out here. There’s glass everywhere.”
As I called out this warning while scanning the surroundings, I suddenly realized how eerily quiet the ballroom had become.
There was no response. Not even the presence of people.
‘…Why is it so quiet?’
Only then did I turn around and notice I was alone in this space.
Where had everyone gone? Jonathan who had been constantly by my side, Ian, Lucita, old man Saint-Germain—they had all vanished without a trace. Even Liam was nowhere to be seen.
“…Liam? Ian?”
My voice echoed hollowly through the empty ballroom.
Had they been kidnapped one by one? How had I failed to notice people disappearing from the same space?
No matter how many times I thought about it, it seemed impossible. Our group wasn’t exactly slow to react to “magical” occurrences.
As I stood there bewildered, the space around me began to change. The pipe organ started playing by itself. Orchestra music could be heard as well. The dust-covered tablecloth became pristinely white as if freshly laundered, and fresh, revived flowers adorned it. It was as if we’d returned to the height of its glory days. The scent of perfume and fresh air from outside wafted past my nose.
“What in the…”
What was happening?
This wasn’t reality. Someone must have tampered with the space we occupied. Since when? Were the others all wandering through similar illusions?
That’s when I heard Liam’s voice.
“…Jane?”
Good heavens! Thank God. At least one person had found their way to me. Turning my head in delight, I saw Liam Moore standing a few steps away, staring at me with a dazed expression.
“Liam? What’s going on…”
“Jane, why are you here…”
We both spoke and fell silent simultaneously. Confusion rippled in Liam Moore’s eyes.
I started to take a step toward him but stopped. My reflection in the window looked ‘slightly’ different. I noticed the blue dress I hadn’t worn in so long it felt awkward again.
‘A dress?’
That’s the default costume from Misty London.
…Wait. Come to think of it, Liam had definitely been wearing a fluffy gray coat and cream turtleneck sweater. But the Liam Moore before me wore a frock coat and shirt, with a top hat tucked under one arm. The perfect image of a 19th-century gentleman.
Was this another one of their tricks?
As I pondered this, Liam looked at me with concerned eyes and asked,
“…What happened?”
I started to speak but closed my mouth. Then, biting my lip, I scrutinized the Liam before me. His worried frown made him look much younger than ‘William Osmond.’
This was not Liam Moore.
I was certain of it. Not just because of his appearance or attire. If this were the real Liam with just his appearance changed like mine, in this situation, he would have asked if I was ‘alright’ rather than ‘what happened’ upon seeing me. This was an impostor without ‘William Osmond’s’ memories.
Clearly, that bald bastard had been messing with my head. My head throbbed painfully. Whether illusion or not, I hated having to go through this with ‘Liam.’ I’m a soft-hearted person. I don’t want to say things that would hurt him. But sometimes such things might be necessary…
I took another breath to compose myself, then stared at him steadily.
“…What are you?”
My hand moved behind my back, ready to summon my sword if needed.
* * *
Liam Moore regained consciousness about ten minutes later. The moment he opened his eyes, he realized the surrounding landscape had completely transformed.
The mansion grounds looked as if they’d been bombed to pieces. The only relatively intact area was the garden, but even that was so overgrown with vegetation there was nowhere to step. The multi-passenger vehicle they’d arrived in was nowhere to be seen. Snow was falling from the sky. The air was filled with coldness. The densely grown dark forest occasionally made ominous sounds as it swayed gently, slowly.
He had opened his eyes in a pavilion in the middle of the garden. A fountain was visible some distance away.
Liam looked around once and called out.
“Jane?”
But there was no response. Not a single strand of black hair in sight.
Could she be far away? Had something happened while he was unaware?
As Liam looked around and frantically worked his thoughts, he finally concluded:
It seemed that in this place, only Liam Moore existed.
