57 | world; second-hand deal

WORLD ZERO.

......

WORLD ONE.

The woman stared up at the sky, and at the white space that surrounded her. She snapped her fingers, and a pair of wooden seats and a small two-person table appeared in the empty space, stolen from her imagination.

She walked over, pulled out a seat and sat down.

During the process, there wasn't a single sound made, as if the ground below was invisible air and she, along with the furniture, was floating.

That wasn't possible.

But neither was her present situation.

Because this white space that she'd yet to space, an ability called the [Joker's Playground] which was empty the first time she used it before being dyed in chaos, appeared as blank as it originally had.

Her dark red lips curled with a morbid curiosity, laced with horror and confusion. A myriad of emotions that didn't quite slot together.

But she had seen it with her own eyes, discoloured and cursed by the apocalypse.

How time reversed in front of her, where she stood watching the ruins. She watched the fallen buildings rearrange themselves into their tall and standing glory, the dead rise to their feet as any traces of blood was erased.

She saw the skies change, from dawn to dusk, and repeat.

The Joker, once human, who decided to fall into the background after realizing her fate, and observe where the rest of humanity reached. After all, she had no attachments to any other than the one who betrayed her.

Her black nails tapped the floating wooden table, deep in thought. It rapped out a pattern of a song she'd already forgotten the lyrics to, but remembered the melody.

She recalled the name she had been granted without choice: the Joker of Binding Presents. An abnormally long Title for a Teller, though she was an abnormality among them.

Present. Was she stuck in the 'present' of the apocalypse, the days which she despised the most? She didn't know.

What had been the last sight she'd seen?

She remembered it vaguely, having not paid much attention from where she sat high on the roof of the sole standing building, with her legs swaying dangerously from unreachable heights.

Below, among the ruins and rubble, the Forsaken Throne stood.

A man had taken a seat in it.

But... that wasn't when the time started to change. And her attention hadn't been completely on that throne at the time—there were many challengers hoping to claim it, and she wasn't interested.

The Catalyst guarding it usually never lost. Had he given up? He didn't seem to be such a character, but the woman couldn't say for sure.

No, from the height she sat, she could see a great deal of the drama occurring below. The man, soaked in blood in a wretched state, his calm and impassive demure morphing into horror as he approached the Throne—

—he recognized the person who sat down on it.

The man, who looked as if he never shouted in his life, opened his mouth and shouted a terrible, screeching cry that reached where she sat. His face, a rather attractive thing, warped and turned hideous with grief and sorrow.

He ran forward as if there were nothing else he could do, climbing the ruins where the Throne proudly sat.

The man on the Throne, with the bleeding black crown engraved into his head, had already lost his mind. Black blood dripped down from the crown, bleeding down his heroic face.

His body slumped, losing all sense of life.

The man climbing the ruins stared blankly, a gaze of utter despondence lapping off his figure. He'd lost all will in that instant, as if he were a puppet and his strings had been snapped all at once.

Then, the woman had seen that Catalyst. The lazy, irritating one she preferred to avoid, and therefore never got a good look at their face. She had a feeling that they would irritate her, somehow.

She still couldn't really see it clearly, as if he were shroud in a fog of mystery.

There was a discussion. The man—human—lunged out with the last semblance of sanity, slicing away mindlessly and dust kicked up at his feet. He shouted in a silent world, surrounded by death and despair.

The Catalyst fought back, teasing motions that dodge at the slight of the sword, narrowly avoiding as if he were playing.

His lips seemed to move, and the human's actions changed.

From abandoned movements, to reckless and determined fighting. The Catalyst could no longer remain lazy as his movements suddenly hastened, and the narrow dodges were no longer pretend.

They spun around each other, slicing and attacking as if it were a performance. A final dance to the dead world.

Ultimately, the winner was predetermined.

The human died; the Catalyst won.

And yet, that was when it happened. The Reversal. As a low rumble of amused laughter echoed throughout the skies, reaching where the woman sat watching, time moved backwards and things begun to revert to their original state.

Everything moved backwards, except for the Catalyst, who slowly lifted their shrouded gaze and stared straight at her.

She still couldn't see their damned face.

WORLD TWO.

Where had it gone wrong, again?

She chose to play the spectator again, watching the same, boring scenes replay again. She'd scouted different areas, watched different spectacles of human emotions. The bad, the ugly and the beautiful.

The woman waved her hand, adjusting the white space to resemble a small antique shop, with the permeating scent of old wood. Her heeled boots clacked on the ground with impatience, and she sat directly on the table.

Time went back again.

Should she take more action this time? Get involved?

If she could find those two men, the one who sat on the throne and died, and the one who yelled with more sorrow than she'd ever seen, and ultimately perished.

She had been too far away to return to the Throne in time to see what had happened. Now, she knew to record the date of the time reversal in her memory—she'd forgotten originally.

Who said Tellers had a good memory? Nobody, that was who.

She bit at her nail, sighing before she pushed open the invisible door to the [Joker's Playground] and exited.

WORLD THREE.

Again! She'd sped back on time, she had been certain. But with each reversal, the situation slowly adjusted and changed. The present was being altered by somebody's actions.

However, human behaviour is typically constant. One often commits the same act, over and over again and make the same mistakes.

Did that mean somebody else remembered the first world?

That somebody was purposely trying to make a change, because they knew it would originally end in failure?

It was a theory worth investigating.

Or she could find that Catalyst...

WORLD FOUR.

The woman chomped down on a piece of candy with vicious, killing intent. What happened in world three?

How would she know?

That Catalyst had done something to her, and she directly slept through an entire world line! She had approached with endless friendly intention. She was a beautiful woman, in her not-so-humble opinion, and definitely had a voice worth listening to.

And yet, as soon as she approached, he'd snapped out his odd powers that flew at her before she could make out what it was, wrapping around her and rendering her immobile.

She couldn't recall what happened after that; she entered a period of death.

Well, at least she knew to not investigate closer to that crazy Catalyst. She would have to search for those pair of men she'd seen originally.

WORLD ????

The Joker signed a contract.

To the man who claimed he'd change the course of reality.

———XXX———

Kane stared with bewildered eyes, stricken and a terrible contrast to his regular calm facade. Wren lowered her eyes as she balanced on the thin railing, smiling lightly.

"Well, even I don't remember all the details. I didn't pay much attention, after all. And after I did... I can't remember all of it. All that is certain is that you, Kane Silvius, were once the hero of the world that made his claim to the Forsaken Throne."

Her voice boomed in the surrounding space, amplified by her own power. The sky twisted, warping into an ugly darkness as the brilliant sun melted into a blood-red moon.

Kane clutched the railings, his dark gaze lit with the eerie moonlight. The white coat hung loosely around his body, pure against the rippling darkness.

"I am no hero."

Wren laughed, a bright chortle that rang across the moody skies. "That's exactly something a hero would say! Do you think you would've reached such heights if you hadn't been so oblivious to your justice?"

Kane shook his head, opening his mouth and closing it again. He furrowed his eyebrows together tightly. "...And what do you hope to accomplish by telling me such things?"

"Nothing in particular." She hummed, spinning around and placing one foot after the other dangerously, as if playing. "It just came up in the conversation, no?"

"Wren."

The woman stopped, lifting her chin to glance back.

"The world is terrible and filled with madness. You have barely seen the beginning of it all. No, nobody can fully understand what the world looks like now."

"I can understand that fact."

"You can. Of course."

"What?"

Wren sighed, before she turned her back to face the edge of the building and...

...she dropped down.

Kane lurched from his seat, lunging for her as she laughed, the back of her legs hitting the railing as she hung upside down.

Kane glared at her, a quiet simmering irritation behind the swirling raven stare. Wren grinned, jumping back up onto the railing with surprising flexibility.

"Fun aside, it isn't Lucas who should be in that Story." Wren's smile fell away, and Kane felt his body involuntarily tense.

"What do you mean?"

"It's not a fate he should bear—but bear it, he will. I have a terrible premonition."

"And that is...?"

"That everybody will die." The woman slowly as Kane's expression changed to horror. "Except him."

Then she laughed again. "Just kidding! It's unlikely for everybody to die, a massacre won't happen."

Kane gritted his teeth. "Enough of your jokes, Teller."

"You're pretty similar to your youngest sibling, Kane."

"You know—"

"A regular person wouldn't be able to recall such a fact. A fact that has been erased due to an item's ability." Wren paused, frowning slightly. "I have no idea how many tricks that bond of mine has up his sleeves."

She sighed, shaking her head as she walked over and sat beside Kane again, staring up at the blood moon that she created. In this space, she could do anything.

In reality, she was powerless.

"Hey, Doctor, I'm warning you for real. Be prepared for whatever happens in the future. And for the sake of the one you want to protect, never let him out of sight again."

Kane turned his head, and Wren smiled softly, lacking the teasing allure of a joker.

She hummed lightly and said, "It's time to wake up."

"What?"

"See you soon, my bond's most precious person." The scene faded into pitch black in Kane's vision as he stared at her disappearing face. "And pray. For all things to come to a beautiful conclusion."

Kane swung his body upwards, finding himself sitting slumped in a seat, wildly looking around at the empty halls.

Chaos filtered behind his vision as he regained a sense of order.

He moved his hand to sit up, but slipped and almost tumbled over. His coat was a mess from sleeping in the chair. Thankfully, he'd folded up his glasses earlier after finishing reading through some papers.

His body still felt caught in a dream—no, in that Joker's domain. An interesting power, to say in the least.

The silence around him was unnerving as he slumped back and recalled the scene of children running down the halls, coming and going. Those who got better, and those who passed.

After Lucas, the hospital was his home.

And both his homes were currently stuck in a life and death game.

Wren's words chilled him to the bone, and he had the urge to rush into the sleeping children's room, to see if anything changed with their body. But terrified of what he might find, he didn't dare.

Not while his mind remained bothers and at a disorder. It wouldn't be wise, both for his own sake and theirs.

He desperately worried for Lucas, his little brother.

His hands trembled as he pressed them together in an almost prayer. He couldn't lose his family again, absolutely not.

But Elias' words, disrespectful and irritating as they were, rung in his head. Originally, it hadn't crossed Kane's mind. He assumed that Lucas would either reject or accept him, and they'd live together again or he'd watch over quietly.

However, they would have to have a good conversation. About the core of the issue that led the young boy to running away.

Kane's shoulders relaxed slightly. It would be good, speaking to Lucas again, properly. Just as they did back then.

Footsteps clattered down the hallway, hurried and rush. Distant at first, before they neared and Kane lifted his weary head up. Nora ran down the hallway, with Elliot trailing behind her with a deep frown.

"We found a location." huffed the woman, brushing her wayward hair from her eyes as dark smudges coated her fingers.

"A location?"

She nodded, catching her breath. "I was cleaning the room that... one of the faceless exploded in. Elliot noticed something protruding out of some of the flesh, and when we dug it out, it was a slip of paper covered in plastic."

The news made Kane straighten in his head, adjusting his posture. His eyes narrowed deeply.

"If it was covered in plastic..."

"Then whoever is in charge of those bastards expected something." said Elliot, scrunching his nose in disgust. "If not inside the body, they could've hidden notes elsewhere."

"I thoroughly investigated the body."

"Who knows what sort of terrible methods they used, if they were willing to dig something into a human's body? Maybe it was on a flap of the skin that you threw away."

"No, I studied the skin for any issues."

Elliot paused and then squared up the doctor. "I keep forgetting that you're a doctor. A children's doctor, though."

"It's sufficient. My studies weren't for nothing. At the very least, I know not to lose information because of my discomfort."

Elliot waved a hand, sighing. "Can't argue with that."

Kane's meticulous way of investigation allowed for them to cross out the idea of digging the bodies back up to check for any other paper slips or clues. To begin with, the idea of disturbing the dead to cut up their body was an unpleasant thought.

"What location did the paper have?"

Nora's expression distorted. "The issue is, I looked into it, and it seems to lead to an abandoned subway station?"

"...That's a likely hideout for criminal activity. We'll have to take a look—most likely, the paper was an invitation for us. It may be a trap, but if we choose not to fall into it, they might attack this location instead."

"The children... and Lucas..." muttered Nora in contemplation.

Kane nodded solemnly, his face tightening at the thought of putting his brother at risk to whatever person organized the terrible attacks of the faceless.

"It'll be necessary to split up again."

Nora frowned, disliking the idea. The earlier fight with the three of them, with addition to Shen's unexpected involvement, had been tricky to begin with. Although Elliot and Kane had solved their fights without help, that couldn't be said for the future.

Walking into a trap set for them may as well be a death sentence. One Kane was willing to step into, for the sake of protecting his precious family.

The gears in her head turned. At least, if they could minimize it to leave one person behind, that would be ideal. Who could they entrust all the children, and Lucas, to?

In fact, Nora already knew.

"What if—"

"There's a higher probability of me disagreeing than agreeing." A low voice came from behind them, exiting one of the rooms.

Elias' cold, blue gaze landed on each of their expressions as he curved his lips lazily. However, there was a darkness under his eyes from staying up late into the night—waiting for a certain person to wait up.

"I'll make a deal with Lucas."

Elias blanched, revealing a rare surprise. "Yes?"

Since she'd already spoken, Nora continued hurriedly. "If you can protect all the children alongside Lucas, I'll make a deal with him. To grant you a single wish."

She didn't want to use that man, the one who helped her on several occasions, like this. But without Elias' involvement to help, it would either be the children dead, or them. And neither was an option she desired.

Her voice didn't waver, smoothly flowing as she calmly stared at the man.

"If he disagrees, you can have my life."

Elias chuckled darkly. "Your life isn't something that appealing to me."

"It's not. But it's something that would appeal to him. If my life was at risk, I don't believe Lucas would disagree with the deal."

"I may as well threaten him to listen to me in that case. It'd be much simpler."

"It's different."

Elias raised an eyebrow and said nothing to contradict her. Indeed, forcing Lucas to agree to a deal to save her, versus threatening Lucas into obedience, was different.

The former was manipulative, but it gave Lucas a choice. It gave that man who ran and did whatever he pleased more freedom. Additionally, it was Nora who proposed the deal.

Elias sighed, shaking his head before lifting his deep gaze with a hint of amusement. "I'll agree to your deal then, Nora."