It wasn't long before a knock came from the door. Alonso exited the room and passed through the cramped, narrow hallway. The building they were situated in was a tiny apartment above a bakery. Prior to their occupation, it had stood dormant and empty, withering away with time. When the bakery was bought, they offered the space above as a means of a type of headquarters for Giorgio and his companions to use. The new owner of this bakery used to be a part of their band previosuly. However, because of a desire for family and a quiet life, he retired from that career and took up something more humble.
Whilst Giorgio rested here, he was actually glad to be in its presence, something he never thought he would feel. There was a strange charm in its musky, suffocating atmosphere. Vanilla floated all around, and comfort was drawn in.
He heard Alonso murmur something about the fact that he had awoken and wanted to thank the man. They then entered the room, and Giorgio locked eyes with the homeless man he had passed earlier on the street. For a second, Giorgio felt humiliation: he was saved by the man he had neglected without a thought, and now must talk in a kindly manner, whilst also carrying an underlying guilt in his words, unbeknownst to the others.
'I'm glad you're awake: for a second, when I first saw you, I didn't think you'd make it.'
Giorgio wiped the perspiration from his forehead and smiled through his teeth, covering his guilty face. 'Well, I gotta say, I'm real thankful for you saving me,' he laughed nervously.
Alonso and Sancho looked at each other, equally wearing confused faces. Giorgio was acting extremely unnatural: was he… nervous?
'Do you guys know each other or something?'
'What! Of course not…'
'No, no, I've never met the lad,' interjected the old man, a kind, forgiving smile spread across his face; 'although, I have seen the billboards and adverts of you everywhere.'
Giorgio recognised the man's forgiveness and felt extreme gratitude towards him.
'Say, how is it you knew where to bring me?'
'Ah, I was waiting for you to ask that. As your companions have most likely already mentioned, I am a projection user. My projection is called Central Introspection, and it allows me to see anything I wish to for a short time. Although I must know the name of the person or place I want to see. But, luckily for you, I already knew your name, and I simply looked through your memory of last visited locations, to eventually end up here.'
'Wait, so, as long as you know the name, you can actually see it? Like, no catches?'
'That's exactly right.'
Giorgio's face lit up; perhaps there really was hope in catching up to Nero, or even beating him to the destination. His heart beat rapidly with excitement, and his soul began manifesting large quantities of spirit by the second. Now, he was fully back to life and his normal self.
Under the bandages around his body, his wounds suddenly healed completely, leaving not even a trace of their presence behind. He sprang from his resting place and stood on his feet with no rebuttal.
'Easy, Giorigo!'
'No time for resting, we gotta go!' he said as he unravelled the bandages, piercing his company with shock as they saw the clean surface underneath.
They were all aware of the possibility of the spirit within someone being able to heal them, but to see it so suddenly and effectively was breathtaking.
'Wait a minute, Giorgio, we don't even know if the poor man is willing to help us yet.'
'Old guy, please… help us! If we don't stop Nero, the whole planet is doomed!'
Giorgio shook the old man with great desperation and excitement in his face. His unexpected change in character was truly something to marvel at, and the old man was greatly amused by Giorgio's will.
'Well, it does sound quite serious, indeed. But first, before I help you, tell me, what is all this about?'
Giorgio sat back down on the mattress, his excitement dying down a little.
'My brother… Nero, he's in search of the Apostles' Cabinet. It's in some castle, Paramount Manor, but we don't know how to find it.'
'And, if he manages to find and open it,' continued Sancho, 'he'll become immortal, with an army following him, big enough to conquer the whole world.'
'And how is it you know all this? I have never heard of such a thing!'
The three companions looked at each other with hurt eyes; they shared a memory so painful that they forbade it from ever resurfacing in their minds again.
'That is a story for another time,' said Alonso in a quiet tone. 'Our best bet is to find the Apostles' Cabinet before Nero does, and destroy it.'
'Why not best him in combat? You, alone, are extremely capable, Giorgio; I can only imagine how you all fare together in battle.'
'If it does come to that, we're all dead. Eos was holding back during our fight, or, more likely, Nero restricted her total energy output; if she was going all out, there's no way I would've won. At full power, she's stronger than all of us combined, perhaps even stronger than Nero himself. And as for Nero, he's one of the best when it comes to hand-to-hand combat; his spirit manipulation is on another level, and that's not even accounting for his projection.'
'I see, so we must beat him to the Apostles' Cabinet, or peril shall befall us all. Tell me, what was the name of the place you mentioned?'
'Paramount Manor.'
The old man sat on the floor, legs crossed. He warned the others to step away from him to the other side of the room and closed his eyes. His breathing was audible, but controlled and steady. As he placed his hands together, a purple ring of smoke wrapped around him, polluting the air with a scent of natural life, shrubbery, and pine. Then, the man cried the name of his projection, Central Introspection, and what looked to be an eyelid appeared on his forehead. It protruded in the same way anyone's eyes do; from under the eyelid, they could see the third eye move around rapidly, as if searching for something. During the eye's omnidirectional sprint, the smoke emitted different scents, all resembling those found in the real world, and evoking distant ideas of adventure. The smell of fresh, open air and salt filled their noses, then smoke from urban districts, ending finally with a crisp, metallic fragrance.
With the last smell, the eye opened, revealing its pupil to be in the shape of a star. It too glowed a hazy purple and looked straight ahead. From up close, it was clear that there was a reflection in the eye that presented an open area, surrounded by trees. Then the eye closed, disappearing from the man's forehead, as he opened his natural eyes.
'I have searched and followed the path to Paramount Manor: there is nothing there.'
'What do you mean there's nothing there!' cried Giorgio.
'Perhaps you got the wrong place?'
'There is only one Paramount Manor. I have searched for that name all around, and each time it leads me to the same place: an empty space surrounded by trees, bordered by a snowy mountain range. That is the place you are looking for, I am certain.'
'If what you say is true, then this place clearly has more to it than what's on the surface. Nero must know about its "empty space", and the meaning behind it.'
'I think so too,' said Giorgio, 'old guy, you know how to get there, right?'
'Yes, I analysed the entire route. It's quite a journey from here; it would take around thirty days without interruption to get there.'
'Thirty days! Then we can't waste any time.'
Giorgio sprang up again and immediately headed for the room's exit. There was no opposition from the rest of the party; everyone, including the old man, recognised the stakes at hand and did not hesitate to follow Giorgio. They were prepared to put their lives on the line for this journey to hunt down Nero and stop him from opening the Apostles' Cabinet.