I looked at the cultists sitting on my couch, in my living room. The rest of my team was nowhere to be seen.
"HEI!!" I screamed.
Thankfully, he ran out from the kitchen, carrying a plate of sliced pears.
"How did they get in?!" I asked, pointing at the intruders.
He looked startled, more at my screaming than at the cultists.
"We knocked," Jayden said.
I glanced back at Jayden. "...How did you find where I lived?"
"We asked people," he said.
I facepalmed.
"They were looking for you," Hei informed me. "This is Jayden. He often comes to watch the Combat Institute tournaments. And that's his sister, Sarah. They're from New Zealand."
Hold up. Hei knew them?
"Hei," I checked. "You know what guild they're in, right?"
He put the sliced pears down on the coffee table by our couch, and took a seat beside Jayden. "No."
"We met Sophia a few months ago," Sarah told him in monotone. "Jayden and I are in the cult– I mean, Guild of Truthseekers."
Hei froze for a split second. "I see."
"Yeah," I confirmed. "These are the Truthseekers I was looking for."
Hei leaned forward. His fists were clenched and white at the knuckles. He scanned around the room; all our windows were already shut and curtained. We had the privacy we needed.
"Saber is upstairs in her room," Hei told me. "Atlas and Jack are out. Mind if I join your chat?"
I gave him a stiff nod.
"You seem serious about this," Sarah said. "It makes me feel warm and happy." Her voice remained an unenthusiastic monotone.
"You can say that," I said. Neither of the cultists knew about our Seekflower, nor about our recent discoveries around 6E12 and his connection to the Combat Institute. And we had no reason to tell them. At least not now. Just let them treat us as they would any other potential recruit, and we ought to be fine.
After a brief moment of silence, Sarah held the stone tablet forward toward me.
"What's that?" I asked.
"The words of the founder. These are her visions."
Sarah's arms quivered as she held the heavy tablet out toward me. Noticing her ostensible strain, I walked up and took it from her. It was a well-polished, rectangular slab of dark stone. Upon it were carved lines of text. I sat down on a wooden stool opposite of the couch.
"The founder made this?" I questioned.
"The words are hers," Sarah said. "This is a copy of her original writing, which was on paper, and was destroyed."
"Do you know for sure that the tablet matches up to the original document?" I asked.
"It's 100% accurate," Jayden said.
"How do you know?"
"I carved it."
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"He also destroyed the original copy," Sarah added. "He spilled soup on it, and then the dog –"
"Shut up," Jayden said. He then shot me a glance. "Just read the tablet."
I rolled my eyes. How did they survive in Silver for this long?
The room sank into uncomfortable silence. I decided to shift my attention to the carved words on the tablet. There was something strange about them, though I couldn't put a finger on it.
it's a huge city / so empty and lonely and endless / where are you / where are you / i can already see the bejeweled train / and it carries on / it sinks into the nothing / alice we never wanted you / there is hoarfrost on the passenger's cage / his wrists are bound by human sacrifice / discarded by rulers in grayed colors / they captivate our lives / roaming and sickeningly fair / we await the key that appears in the coldest night / the gate will open and 6E12 will arrive / he will lead us to the edge of existence / he will overcome the final challenge / and the prize he will earn is our freedom / why are you alice please no / alice / alice
"Alice," I whispered out loud before I realized it. "...Alice?"
Sarah shrugged. "We still don't know who that is."
Hei got up from his seat. He came over to read the tablet as well.
"This doesn't seem very parseable," I said.
"You can say that again," Sarah said. "We Truthseekers have been working, for years, to figure out what this all means. The founder herself had some guesses. But she doesn't remember her own visions after having them. She scribbles it all down, in real time, as her eyes are rolled back and she sees what she sees."
I scan across the words on the tablet, over and over, double and triple-checking for any potential detail I missed. "What does the founder think it all means?" I asked.
"She's convinced the bejeweled train is a metaphor for Diamond," Sarah said, "or something like that. And, then, the ride simply never ends. You'll never return home. Most of us agree with her interpretation."
"There are 20 slashes," Jayden added. "But we don't really think that's important."
"Alright. What's the passenger's cage, then?"
Sarah crossed her legs. She looked at the pear slices Hei prepared, but did not touch them. "We don't know," she admitted. "But we do have a strong idea of who the passenger is. If you think about it, if the train is Diamond and beyond, then the passenger is at least Diamond-ranked. And also male, we think. Considering the rest of the vision, it's pretty likely the passenger is 6E12, and he's trapped in a cage somehow. And when he's released, that's when he'll help us escape the game."
"Right now, we're trying to figure out what the key is," Jayden added. "That's probably the most important part. Once we solve that, we might have time to worry about the human sacrifices and the gray rulers."
And then it hit me. I finally realized what was so strange about the words on the tablet. It was the font.
It was the same font as the title on the cover of my book. And…and it was also the same font on the eviction notice. The one that was pasted on the front door of the phone-charger girl when she died. The one that mentioned that she had died honorably as a member of the Expedition Division. I hadn't made the connection up until now. My book's title, this tablet, and the eviction notice. All the same font, and as far as I can remember, also all the same font size.
The font was likely Consolas. It was distinctly recognizable; each letter took up the same width.
"Jayden," I asked. "How did you carve the letters on this stone tablet? Did you print on it first, before you started carving?"
"Kinda, yeah. You can tell?"
I gave a shallow nod. "How did it go? You gave them a manuscript of what you wanted to print out, right? And they printed the text directly onto the tablet?"
"We gave them a manuscript. I don't know how they got the ink onto the rock."
"I see."
"Focus on the visions," Sarah chided us.
But I was. I was focusing on the visions that the founder had recorded.
The puzzle pieces, once scattered, now settled into a pattern. Maybe the founder's visions truly were legitimate, after all. Because now I see the truth hidden behind her words. Or at least, one of the possible truths.
Tomorrow, I'd test my theory out.
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