A room drowned in deep darkness.
It would be an exaggeration to say that nothing could be seen—because there were figures. Yet none of them were clear. Only their eyes were visible, glowing faintly in the void like embers refusing to die. At least nine or ten individuals stood there. It was impossible to tell who was male or female; even the outlines of their bodies felt distorted, as if the darkness itself was swallowing their identities.
One of them spoke, their voice carrying a lazy hint of boredom.
"Work in the Wasteland has become dull. Pirates aren't as active in those regions anymore. These days, my time just… drags on."
Another replied with a low chuckle. "That's true. A few days ago, I did something rather big myself—but even then, time refuses to move."
Suddenly, a grave and commanding voice cut through the murmurs.
"Enough of this nonsense. I've received news from the Central Continent. In several regions, traces of the Black Flame have been found."
Two voices reacted at once.
"Black Flame?" "What is that? Some new type of fire?"
The man continued calmly, as though reciting a forbidden scripture.
"No. From what I've heard, it's an ancient weapon. Legends say our ancestors used it to come into this world. Though it was supposedly destroyed in the past, some people are now spending enormous amounts of money to pursue it once again."
A brief pause followed, heavy and tense.
"Among them are Prince Beniard, Richel Venakit, Paul John, Alison Abakar, Martin Jisas, Christine Goda—and several other influential figures."
His voice grew lower, more deliberate.
"In my opinion, the Black Flame is something truly… interesting. Because this flame was only discovered a few centuries ago. Before that, it existed merely as folklore—a whispered myth. But over the past decade, several ancient sites have been revealed, places where extensive information about the Black Flame was uncovered."
He exhaled softly.
"Most of that information, however, has been concealed by Paul John and Melissa KQS. To be precise, it is hidden within the Republic of Seldron. The Western World remains unaware of this truth."
Another figure shifted slightly in the darkness.
"I believe the Central and Eastern Kingdoms and nations are strengthening themselves by clinging to secret weapons like this. But according to legend… the Black Flame is alive."
The word alive echoed unnaturally.
"If it ever awakens completely," the voice continued, "everything may be reduced to nothing."
A third person spoke, their tone resigned.
"Then it seems all we can do here is remain silent spectators."
---
6, Royal Street
The time appeared to be somewhere around 3:00 or 3:30 in the afternoon. The streets were busy—travelers returning home, footsteps echoing along stone paths. Birds fluttered back to their nests, settling among the branches. As twilight approached, it felt as though the world itself was slowly gathering its breath.
Effie stood before her dressing table, deeply absorbed in adorning herself. Her movements were careful, almost ritualistic. Nearby, a gas lamp waited to be lit—electricity did not exist in this world.
Sherlock—also known as Ben—entered the room.
Effie noticed him but showed no particular reaction. Sherlock stepped closer, standing behind her. Because of her shorter height, his reflection hovered above hers in the mirror, like a shadow looming from another world.
Without looking back, Effie spoke casually, still focused on her reflection.
"What is it, Ben? Do you want to say something?"
Sherlock replied calmly, "I don't have much to say. But I have many things I want to know. Running away has become your habit. But what good does it do? In the end, the truth always comes out."
Effie paused for a moment, then smiled faintly.
"Have you started practicing literature these days?" she teased. "Or are you preparing yourself for a lover?" Her smile was sweet—but something about it felt sharp.
Sherlock answered plainly, "No. You need to tell me why the parliament—and the rest of its members, including me—were attacked."
Effie froze.
Her eyes widened as she finally met his gaze through the mirror.
"What are you trying to find out?" she asked slowly. "And more importantly—how would I even know?"
Sherlock smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in it.
"Don't twist my words. I know very well that this is a political nation. No random individual holds a seat in parliament. And if I am a member there, then clearly something is going on—something you're trying to hide."
Effie looked genuinely surprised now.
"So your memory hasn't disappeared after all," she murmured. "How do you know so much? And yes—since you already know, there's nothing left to hide."
Her voice hardened.
"But I won't give you the answer. Find it yourself. And since you're already here…"
She turned away.
"Go ahead. I'll inform City Hall about your resignation."
She spoke all of that in one breath, then quickly left the room.
Sherlock stood there, confused, his thoughts colliding. He rushed after her and stepped out into the corridor. To the left of his room was the staircase—but there was no sign of Elinaz descending it.
That fast? he thought.
How…?
Suddenly, sharp fangs pierced into his neck.
Before he could even turn around, his consciousness faded into darkness.
Yes—it was none other than Effie.
Or rather—Elinaz.
Two sharp, vampire-like fangs gleamed briefly.
She was a vampire.
As she moved away, her voice reached him like a distant whisper.
"First, recover completely. Then try to uncover the truth, Ben. In this world… we have no shortage of enemies.Everything in this world has a deep meanings.We have a frearful background that can make caos around us. I am looking for those shitty basterd that caused a grave danger for us."
A lowly voice came from back,Miss, Is it well?
Elinaz in cold voice,yeah why not.Selena?
Selena normally, You mam used your power. I think many people caugh this.What you say?
Elinaz,I don't think so.Just pass out.Yeah prepare some food for our meal.
Selena,okay.
And left the place as a crack bone snake.