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"You came pretty fast," Repairman said lazily while wrapping bandages around his fists.
"Are you that eager to embrace the Templar Knights, Fox? Carlos?"
"You seem to know a lot," Carlos replied, not rushing to fight.
"Then do you know why all of this is happening?"
"I know very well," Repairman said, finishing the last wrap.
"But I don't have a choice. My name appeared on the Loom too."
"Whether it's true or false, I'm done fighting for fate."
"Do you remember where my name came from, Carlos?" Repairman asked.
"I remember," Carlos replied.
"'Repairing' those who don't behave."
"Then you should also remember how I 'repaired' you back then," Repairman said with a mocking smile.
"I played a part in you becoming an Assassin Master."
"Are you talking about the second time you pinned me to the ground and beat me into the repair room?" Carlos said calmly.
Repairman's smile froze.
"Either way," Repairman said after a brief pause, bumping his fists together,
"let's see how much progress you've made over the years."
He knew he couldn't win against Carlos, Fox, and the others with gunfire.
So he chose what he was best at.
His fists.
He intended to force Carlos into a one-on-one, man-to-man fight.
"Alright," Carlos said simply.
He put away his gun and stepped forward.
Wesley moved instinctively, intending to stop him and fight in his place-
Bang.
A gunshot rang out.
The bullet hit Repairman square between the eyebrows.
His eyes widened as he fell backward, dead before he hit the ground.
"Sir," Morin said calmly as he walked past the corpse and headed for the stairs,
"the times have changed."
"Are you going to stand there all day?" he added without turning back.
"Sloan is a person, not a plant. What if he runs when things go bad?"
...
"...Would you believe me if I said I was just joking?"
Morin stood at the entrance of the secret passage they had discovered, momentarily speechless.
He had spoken it into existence.
They had dealt with all the assassins who refused to surrender-Butcher, Gunsmith...
But Sloan was gone.
"He ran," Fox said as she came in from outside.
"Through this passage. It leads to the East River. There was probably a boat waiting for him."
"He's a lone wolf now," Morin said calmly.
"He won't cause much trouble."
"At most, he'll notify the High Table."
"Well," Morin added,
"it's about time anyway. Doesn't change much."
"Where's the Loom of Fate?"
...
"You're saying that last time, this thing just started weaving on its own?"
In the room housing the Loom, Morin studied it with open curiosity.
From his perspective, it looked like an ordinary loom.
No obvious abnormalities.
"Yes," Carlos said, lightly stroking the threads.
"Fate responded to me."
"Is that even possible?" Wick asked.
By now, he had naturally integrated into the group.
"Anything's possible," Morin said, nodding.
"It could be magic. Or something else. I just don't know yet."
"Magic?" x4
Everyone's attention snapped to Morin.
"Yes. Magic," Morin said matter-of-factly.
"Is that strange?"
"If bullets can curve in defiance of physics, and a loom can move on its own, then why can't magic exist?"
"...Or a keyboard type by itself for the author-no, forget that."
"You know magic?" Wesley asked, visibly excited.
"Of course," Morin said.
He had originally planned to use magic to stimulate the Loom and see if it would react.
"Watch closely."
As soon as he spoke, Morin activated stealth.
"How was that?" Morin asked.
"Did you see it?"
"Stealth magic. An assassin-exclusive skill."
"That's awesome!" Wesley exclaimed.
Carlos and the others were equally stunned.
They watched as Morin turned into a humanoid shadow.
"Wait," Wesley said suddenly, realization flashing through his excitement.
"Isn't that... an assassin's stealth?"
"Yes."
"But..." Wesley hesitated.
"Aren't you a-"
"Templar Knight?" Morin said calmly.
"Yes."
"But who said a Templar Knight can't know a little assassin magic?"
Click.
All five of them turned toward the Loom at the same time.
The sound continued.
The bobbin.
The shuttle.
The rollers.
Without any external force, every part of the Loom began moving.
Just like last time.
It started weaving.
"What did you do just now?" Morin asked.
"Nothing," everyone replied at once, shaking their heads.
"Then it must be..." Morin's thoughts raced.
"The Templar Knights?"
As he spoke the words again, the Loom's speed visibly increased.
If not for the ominous creaking sounds, Morin would have tested how fast it could go before falling apart.
Finally, after a long while, the Loom slowed.
Then stopped.
Fox rushed forward, grabbed the woven cloth, and began decoding it.
"This isn't just a name," she said after a moment, her voice shaking.
"It's... a whole paragraph."
"What does it say?" Morin asked.
"Wait," Fox said, writing down the decoded letters in sequence and showing them to everyone.
"...There are no spaces," Wick said, staring at the dense string of letters.
He recognized every character.
But together, they meant nothing.
"Looks like a different kind of word puzzle," Wesley said confidently.
"Leave it to me. When I'm bored-"
"No need," Morin said.
His eyes reflected the hundreds of letters as his mind rapidly processed them.
In just a few seconds, he found the most probable segmentation.
"I've got it."
Morin took the pen and, with smooth strokes, separated the letters into readable lines.
Temple Knight, an ancient term, lost to history due to an assassin's temporary greed.
The word 'assassin' still exists, but their name is dead. They no longer deserve the guidance of fate.
The world has fallen out of balance.
Morin, a guest from beyond, the last Temple Knight,
I hope you can restore balance and bring order back to the world.
Each of us takes what we need.
That is all.
"This..." Morin absorbed the flood of information, his eyes narrowing.
"This is really interesting."