REVERSE: 1999 STORY LOGS

6TH - 01 | Razor in Green

???: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome.

…

[Meeting Hall]

Dr. Schwartz: On behalf of the General Medical Association of Vienna, I would like to thank you all for attending this demonstration conference. It is a great honor!

Dr. Schwartz: As we can see, dear friends, the era of science has arrived, THE ERA OF MAN HAS ARRIVED! Today, we will share the honor of witnessing the advancement of technology, its contributions to medical science and even the world.

Dr. Schwartz: Now please allow me to introduce the patient again: Ms. Isolde von Dittarsdorf. This lady has selflessly volunteered for the experiment, and in return will receive a healthy mind in no time.

…

Isolde: …

Dr. Schwartz: She’s been living a miserable life due to hysteria. How terrible it is for a young woman like her.

Dr. Schwartz: As we all know, mental illness is taking an increasing toll on our country. Even suicide has become more rampant. The tragedies are piling up, and our dear lady is in excruciating pain as we speak!

Isolde: …

Dr. Schwartz: Thanks to the development of medical science, we can again be rescued from the abyss of pain.

Dr. Schwartz: As I said before, the electroshock therapy uses the most advanced technology available.

Dr. Schwartz: The medical use of electricity dates back to the 18th century …

…

The presentation of these obscure theories fails to enthrall the attention of the guests. Vienna’s citizens possess less a thirst for knowledge than a hunger for morbid curiosities. Tales of misfortune are favored over their cures.

Citizen I: Isolde? The youngest daughter of the Dittarsdorfs? Oh, no wonder she volunteered. The treatment should do wonders for her!

Citizen I: You know there’s something wrong with that family …. I heard her mother stabbed old Dittarsdorf in the temple with a brass needle and killed every maid in the room. That thing’s even made it into the curio market. I heard not even the Lourdes water could clean the blood off it.

Citizen II: The family seems to be cursed. So far, no one’s ever lived past the age of 40. In fact, the girl had a sister who died very young. And now her brother─I read in the papers that …

Citizen I: He killed himself, right?

Citizen II: Well, the artist did what an artist would do. He wrote a sad poem, and then set fire to his paintings, together with himself.

Citizen I: You know what, my uncle works for the police, he showed me the autopsy report. The truth is, Theophil shot himself! He was killed by a bullet …

Citizen III: Gosh! Good thing he didn’t have to suffer all that pain before he died … Poor boy, he was so talented and handsome!

Citizen III: But the girl, oh, she’s less fortunate! Fainted at her only brother’s funeral, didn’t even get to see him one last time … I hope the latest treatment will alleviate her suffering …

Citizen II: Lunatics, the whole family is a bunch of lunatics!

Citizen I: Manners, sir! This is Vienna, where we call these poor people … “arcanists.”

Citizen III: *sighs* I sincerely hope that Isolde can put an end to her miserable nightmare. After all, she is one of the most talented opera singers in Vienna, just like her mother.

Citizen I: You know what they say, talent and hysteria go hand in hand. Think about it, they both come from the mind!

Citizens: Hah!

???: …

The speaker notes these untimely whispers.

Dr. Schwartz: Quiet please. The treatment will now begin. Are you ready, Ms. Dittarsdorf?

…

Isolde: Y-Yes.

Isolde: *deep breath*

Isolde: I’m ready. Please …

Isolde: Uggh!!

Dr. Schwartz: Three, two, one, okay. Calm down, my lady. Just hang in there, okay? The treatment will work.

Dr. Schwartz: Perseverance is a virtue. I don’t think the electric shock is causing the pain you seem to be experiencing. Don’t let the imaginary fear get the better of you.

Isolde: Ugh … Ugh …

Isolde: Ugh … Ugh …

Isolde: Yes … Sir …

Dr. Schwartz: Good.

Dr. Schwartz: Now we’ll begin stage two. The voltage will be slightly increased. Please get ready, Ms. Dittarsdorf.

Isolde: Ugh … Ugh … I-I …

Isolde: Ahh! No, no …

???: …!

Dr. Schwartz: Stage three, an even higher voltage …

Isolde: Ugh!!! Ahhh!

All other sounds have faded away.

???: Enough!

…

???: Forgive the interruption, Dr. Schwartz, but I need you to stop the treatment immediately!

Chattering, hushed questions replace the hum of electricity. The audience turns toward the petite woman standing in the back row.

???: I can’t help but to question your methods, as well as the methods of the General Medical Association.

Isolde: *pants*

???: Your electroshock therapy is a gross violation of humanitarian principles. Judging from what I just saw, it only brought the patient meaningless pain, and didn’t help her condition one bit.

???: Unless, of course, you intend to use physical pain to distract the patient from her mental pain?

Isolde: …?

Her green silhouette is delicate and sharp, like a razor slicing through the chaos.

Dr. Schwartz: Even though this is a conference meant for conversation, you’re being … a little rude.

Dr. Schwartz: The new electroshock therapy is not what you know from the last century. Now that man has tamed electricity, there’s no doubt that the EST is the best choice for treatment! You shouldn’t take it at face value, because it’s not like the underlying principles are the same as that frog experiment, heh.

Dr. Schwartz: My treatment is supported by systematic theories and reliable references, and it is approved and sponsored by the General Medical Association, which means it’s reasonable and legitimate.

Dr. Schwartz: While you are, correct me if I’m wrong, a “social activist” known for her little arcane tricks. Ms. Kakania, or should I say, Ms. Klara.

Dr. Schwartz: As far as I know, you don’t even have a medical degree. Besides, your so-called art movement, the “Secession,” is it? It confuses me, really.

Dr. Schwartz: Anyway, in order to have a more professional conversation, I suggest we talk later, you know, after you get your medical license!

Murmurs and fragmented laughter swell among the crowd.

Kakania: No, Dr. Schwartz. This conversation has nothing to do with my personal identity or experience. I’m only asking you as a citizen of Vienna, and as a “human being” with empathy!

Kakania: How can you not see that she’s suffering? Have you been thoroughly brainwashed by the supposed authority of medical science, or have you too been blinded and deafened by hysteria?

Dr. Schwartz: …!

Dr. Schwartz: You rude little …!

Dr. Schwartz: Please allow me to reiterate: the EST is an advanced and reliable treatment! Besides, Ms. Dittarsdorf had signed an agreement before we started. The experiment is conducted under mutual consent.

Dr. Schwartz: Your objection is of no use, and is even harmful to the patient’s interests.

Dr. Schwartz: But we always welcome debate. Since you question my methods, please, be my guest and indulge us with your thoughts on her condition.

Kakania: As I understand it, Mr. Sigmund Freud published his Studies on Hysteria in 1895.

Kakania: He believed that hysteria was a psychological disorder caused by problems in the nervous system. It was not a simple organ disease.

Kakania: His Trauma Theory explained that the patient’s personal life experiences were the real causes of the disorder, affecting the patient in subtle ways. It makes much more sense to analyze the patient’s traumas than to harm their body.

Kakania: As to whether his theory is “advanced” enough, you can read the Totem and Taboo, which he published last year …

Dr. Schwartz: … What?!

The gentleman’s face cracks with expression.

Dr. Schwartz: Freud … Freud?!

Dr. Schwartz: The man who told people to marry their mothers and kill their fathers?! The one who couldn’t get a word in when his patient spewed her insanity?

Dr. Schwartz: It took him 17 years to become a professor, for God’s sake! Ms. Klara, I’ve tolerated your immature antics, and I always welcome advice and opinion, as long as they’re rational and reasonable. It’s just … how could you challenge me with such an amateurish theory?

Dr. Schwartz: You insult me as a gentleman! And you insult my reputation!

Kakania: What? Dr. Schwartz, I did not mean to insult you …

*bang─*

Citizen III: Ah! Ms. Dittarsdorf, she’s unconscious!

Dr. Schwartz: … How!

Kakania: …!

Kakania: Get her off the chair! Now!

6TH - 02 | Drums of March

[Laplace Main Hall]

Medicine Pocket: Move, ugh, move!

Navigating this corridor is no easy feat, as researchers, engrossed in their Brownian motion studies, hurry along without watching their step.

Medicine Pocket: … Shoot, are you blind, or did you hit me on purpose?

Medicine Pocket: …

A viscous, deep purple substance drips from their face onto the hem of their lab coat, marvelously landing in a spot not yet coated with other stains.

Laplace Staff I: Hey! Hello! Do you know how to control this thing?

Laplace Staff I: It always drips on my bread at lunch. I had to skip breakfast for a week.

Medicine Pocket: Just remove your brain. Problem solved.

Laplace Staff I: That makes sense. How come I didn’t think of that? Thank you for your advice. You are so sweet.

Medicine Pocket: Oh, you’re so welcome, pal. I’d wipe my eyes more often if I were you. Just do something to get that black snot off those lashes.

…

Medicine Pocket: The good news is, the persons in charge of this place are all dead … The bad news, the one in charge right now is not a “person”!

…

Lucy: Hello, Researcher Medicine Pocket. Your meal allowance is being deducted to pay for door repair.

Medicine Pocket: I don’t care, bucket head. Do your worst, a few pennies don’t bother me.

The Head of the Computing Center nods, taking this as a sign of amicable agreement.

Lucy: You could have called me from your lab terminal. The technology department has equipped every researcher with the latest communication device, and I have the energy to communicate with everyone.

Medicine Pocket: Then how am I supposed to know whether my report is lying in your trash or not? Oh please, you know we gotta talk face to face to solve our issues when things get ugly.

With a flick of their wrist, a gray folder lands with impact, spilling its contents across the desk.

Medicine Pocket: Congrats on the one and only achievement you got from the Manus Mask; we’re now fully aware of its side effects! And this great achievement is filling the halls with oil and insanity!

Medicine Pocket: You should thank the hatted cuckoo for her report. No one’s turned into a crazy monster yet, or the Manus would be attacking the headquarters from Laplace right now!

Medicine Pocket: D**n it, what are you doing? Are you even listening to me?!

Lucy turns her head, having just fastened the buckle on her face.

Lucy: My apologies. You said we needed to talk “face to face.”

Lucy: If I understand it correctly, this is your number one request.

Medicine Pocket: … You always carry a face in your pocket? That’s just … great.

Lucy: You are welcome. It is our duty to learn and meet the needs of every researcher. This will help them reach their full potential while respecting the nature of their being.

Lucy: I received some letters of complaint. They asked me to develop a better sense of humor. They said it would help me understand the researchers’ sarcasm, so I am studying it.

Lucy: 75% of the complaints mentioned they did not want to see a face on my head. Some even used strong words like “Never let me see that face of yours again!”

Lucy: I am glad that you are one of the other 25%, Researcher Medicine Pocket.

Medicine Pocket: You know what, I don’t mind if you keep that face on, as long as you let me kick it around for a bit.

The newly face-flaunting robot nods slightly, pleased with their renewed consensus.

Lucy: Regarding your second request, I have read your report. I fully understand the side effects of the mask as well as the ... feasibility of the decryption.

Medicine Pocket: Then what’s the point? It’s like trying to get the syrup formula out of a coke can! Ugh! Again, we are all screwed without the original ritual from the Manus!

Lucy: It is too early to conclude that the mask does not contain important clues. The attempts we are making are very necessary.

Lucy: Besides, the situation in Laplace is not as bad as you say. The side effects are completely under control. The subjects are only suffering from dehydration and mania.

Lucy: Fortunately, the Rehabilitation Center has extensive experience in dealing with manic patients. And some researchers, like yourself, are already manic without putting on the mask, so the side effects will not affect them much.

Laplace Staff I: Hahahaha! Yes! Ball pens! Ball pens love brains!

Two researchers arrive swiftly, removing the poor soul who lodged a pen into their eye socket and just as swiftly replacing the broken glass.

Medicine Pocket: Extensive experience, huh?

Lucy: That is right. I am glad you have noticed our efforts. We have prepared a large amount of polymer materials in case of minor vandalism by the patients.

Medicine Pocket: Hahaha, amusing. So this is the logic of a machine, huh? Humans are as expendable in the lab as glass. You should be glad that your head is harder than my teeth, or I’d …

Lucy: Your opinion surprises me, Researcher Medicine Pocket. There is a big difference between the human body and glass.

Lucy: As for the original ritual, you are not the first researcher to make this suggestion. We are fully aware of its importance.

…

Lucy: We have dispatched investigators and members of the Field Agent Administration to investigate various regions. Here are the images they sent back.

Medicine Pocket: Field … What?

Lucy: Field Agent Administration. If you have not heard of the name before, most prefer to call them the History Guards, given their function.

Medicine Pocket: Right. That team of cannon fodder.

Medicine Pocket: The thought of people being thrown around like garbage makes me feel lucky … That I’m just a piece of glass.

Medicine Pocket lifts their head, examining the screen. Their attention is completely diverted.

Medicine Pocket: Looks like “face to face” conversation does solve problems. Finally we’re getting somewhere, aside from the insane colleagues running amok.

Medicine Pocket: Let me guess. The blue dots are good news, huh?

Lucy: Correct. They represent the safe areas immune to the “Storm.”

Medicine Pocket: Ahh, North America … I should’ve gone there for a walk in the park. I don’t deserve to suffer in this stupid gray prison.

Lucy: I have to say, Researcher Medicine Pocket, even though I approved your request for a sports field, which you claimed was a humanitarian need, I think it is more of a canine need.

Medicine Pocket: I suggest you install an indicator on your humor module, so we know when to laugh. See, like this blinking red dot …

Medicine Pocket: Hm, is that Vienna?

Lucy: Yes.

They wait, but the android does not offer up any further information.

Medicine Pocket: Alright, alright. “Not privy to the information,” huh? I know your tricks. One day I will find the logical fallacies in your words, I swear.

Medicine Pocket: And, this here …

Medicine Pocket: Yellow. Better than the worst, worse than the best.

Medicine Pocket: That’s the Aegean Sea. What’s all the fuss about? Don’t tell me there’s a five hundred meter long blue crab …

Lucy: No. No sightings of large marine organisms other than the Gorgon.

Lucy: This is where Timekeeper and her team are right now.

Lucy: By the way, it seems you can distinguish between colors precisely, so the canine elements in you are more of a personal choice than an innate trait.

Medicine Pocket: I see your efforts on improving your sense of humor, I do, but that’s enough now. Turn off the module, ok? Who the heck put these complaints in the box?! I’m gonna kick their teeth out!

Lucy: Back to business. Timekeeper and her team are in a bit of a situation. The details are classified, and I am not privy to them either.

Medicine Pocket: Hah, “classified.” I know what’s going on. In this place, “classified” means …

Medicine Pocket: They’re in big trouble!

…

Pilot: D**n it! What are they?!

Pilot: Krupp did not tell us about these things!

Pilot: D**n it! Get away from me, you arcane fiends!

…

???: … Marcus?

???: Marcus?

Marcus: Ooh! I’m sorry, Madam Hofman. I was reading the newspaper …!

Hofmann: I know I told you to practice your arcane skills more, but you don’t have to do it all the time.

Hofmann:I just told you the oath to secrecy for this mission. Level Two Investigator Marcus, repeat it to me.

Marcus: Uhm …

Marcus: Remember the Field Mission Manual …

Marcus: Never disclose any information about the “Storm” or the “era” to irrelevant people.

Marcus: Never build unnecessary connections with the current era. Never disclose any real information about the headquarters to members of the branch. Never discuss confidential matters in unrelated settings.

Marcus: Never contact or interfere with the insignificant. Stay out of their lives, silently observe and respect their lives …

Marcus: And, why is the stupid train never on time?

Hofmann: …

Hofmann: Did I really say that?

Marcus: Yes, in a low voice, after the last random stop.

Hofmann: You have a talent for multitasking, I’ll give you that. But the point is, as a rookie investigator, your focus should really be on the mission.

Marcus: Y-Yes, Madam Hofmann. I’m so sorry …

Hofmann: Laplace has analyzed the information from the Field Agent Squad and suggested several Critical Points on where the “Storm” may arrive. One of them is Vienna.

Hofmann: The History Guards have reported sightings of Manus leaders there. Considering they will probably do the same thing they did in 1929, you know, escalate international conflicts to accelerate the reverse, this mission is probably quite risky.

Marcus: It’s okay, Madam Hofmann. I am fully prepared!

Marcus:I’ve been waiting for my first field mission since I joined the Foundation. Thank you for approving my application, or I’d still be talking to rusty filing cabinets and diamond patterns on a wall …

Hofmann: No need to thank me, Investigator Marcus. Your application has been approved by headquarters, as your arcane skills will prove very useful on this mission.

Hofmann: This time we will track down Manus Vindictae in Vienna and gather intelligence on their ritual. The intelligence should help with the “Storm” immunity research, making it the top priority over all other missions.

Hofmann: That’s why I said your arcane skill, “reading,” will be useful on this mission.

Marcus: Yes … Understood!

The young student straightens up. Her mentor catches her emotion and replies unsmilingly.

Hofmann: I know how lucky you must feel for returning to your era, after being isolated from the outside world for so long.

Hofmann: I will take you to Romania and visit the orphanage where you used to live, if we still have time for that after the mission.

Marcus: …!

Marcus: I’ll do my best, Madam Hofmann! Whatever you need, as long as my arcane skill can do it!

Marcus: By the way, how’s the Timekeeper doing on that Aegean island?

Hofmann: Marcus, have you already forgotten what I just told you?! This is a confidential matter!

Marcus: But it’s in the news.

Marcus: “Unknown island appears on the Aegean Sea. Forces attacked by arcane creatures.”

Marcus: “Ownership over island causing conflicts between Bulgaria, Serbia, and Greece.”

Marcus: “Austro-Hungarian Empire and Russian Empire to establish a negotiating committee …”

Marcus: Madam Hofmann, the increased turmoil could cause the “Storm” to arrive earlier, right?

Hofmann: That is not our problem. The headquarters will send someone to intervene, since it is caused by the arcanum. Now just focus on our destination, Vienna.

Hofmann: Time to get out. Grab your luggage.

6TH - 03 | Fork and Torte

[Ring Road]

Marcus: Here it is … the national treasure of Austria!

Marcus: The creamy chocolate cake, the buttery ganache, and the delicious apricot jam …

Marcus: Created by the ingenious apprentice Franz Sacher in 1832, renowned throughout the world … the dessert of Vienna, Sachertorte!

Marcus: My first time seeing a real one.

At the café’s entrance, Marcus’s fork holds reluctantly over her mentor’s little gift.

Marcus: How should I cut it?

Marcus: If I cut straight, the cake will get mushy. If I cut sideways, I’ll miss out on the apricot filling …

Marcus: What if I eat it in one bite … No no, how unrefined. The director would scold me for that.

Marcus: I have to think carefully. There must be some other way …

Marcus: Remember all your training, Investigator Marcus. This is the most important moment of your life! Don’t get too excited or you’ll ruin it!

Then the fork falls.

Marcus: Oh, no!

As Hofmann cuts the Sachertorte in two with calculated precision.

Hofmann: What?

Marcus: No, nothing … Thank you for deciding for me.

The cake rightly is a national treasure, soft and layered with apricot jam. It is consumed in mere moments.

Marcus: *sobs*

Hofmann: What’s with the tears, Marcus?

Marcus: Because …

Marcus: The cake … is way too sweet …

The café bustles with others coming and going. As Hofmann checks her watch now for perhaps the fifteenth time in fewer than as many minutes.

Hofmann: According to the plan, the head of the Vienna branch would pick us up and guide us through the necessary procedures of this era.

Hofmann: But our train was two hours late.

Hofmann: That being the case, our Mr. Karl should have been waiting for two hours, but so far there’s no sign of any gentleman in the Foundation’s uniform …

Marcus: So Mr. Karl is also more than two hours late.

Hofmann: A clever deduction. Let us hope otherwise. I’ll go check if he got here before us.

The mentor steps out from under her umbrella’s shadow and heads into the café. Left behind, the apprentice looks around aimlessly. She catches a few key words.

Passerby I: I bet that island is a secret base of the Dual Entente. That’s why the Bulgarians are so anxious. They’re worried about their exit on the Aegean Sea …

Passerby I: A friend of mine is in the navy. He saw a ship leaving the harbor loaded with gold …

Passerby I: War is coming, friend!

Passerby II: No, no! How does that explain the arcane creatures over there?

Passerby II: I’d say it’s never been discovered before, like the Celtic Otherworld, you know, the heavenly land beyond the sea in Bran’s legend.

Passerby II: The Arcanum has declined after the Enlightenment. It is an honor for all of us in this era to find such a paradise from the past. You’re not fit to be human if you don’t understand what that island means to us, my friend!

Marcus: Secret base … Otherworld …

Marcus: Fascinating. I need to write this down.

Marcus opens her notebook, jotting down these bits of trivia with a quick and earnest enthusiasm. Her desire to catch the length and breadth of these comments forces her to lean quite conspicuously until she finds she has become an object of spectacle herself.

Passerby I: …

Vienna Guard: Miss, could you show me your papers please?

Marcus: Ah, right.

Marcus: … Erm, sorry. My friend has it. Could you hold on a minute?

Marcus: I am an arcanist sent from the headquarters of the St. Pavlov Foundation. I have a letter of introduction from the head of the Vienna branch.

Vienna Guard: Arcanist?

Vienna Guard: Then you come with us, miss! Hands up, and be quiet! Bring over the golems! We have an unregistered arcanist!

Marcus: Huh? Huh?!

Hofmann’s attention is drawn to the commotion unfolding outside the window.

Hofmann: Marcus …?!

Marcus: Sir? P-Please listen to me …

A single misstep causes a mistaken interpretation─a sign of defiance.

Vienna Guard: …!

Enough to compel these loyal city guardians to fulfill their duty.

Vienna Guard: Don’t let her get away!

???: What is happening?

???: At ease, gents! Allow me to explain. This respectable lady is most definitely not a Russian spy!

A portly gentleman with a handlebar mustache hurries over, his forehead glistening with sweat.

???: Ah, Ms. Hofmann. So this lady with the big case is your … assistant? No spy would be stupid enough to carry an entire case of papers in public. That will be all, gentlemen!

The guards offer their salute before ushering the golems back to their posts. Hofmann’s face is the picture of awkwardness─one that could mark a new entry for this exact situation in the next Field Mission Manual.

Hofmann: The gentlemen in Vienna have become exceedingly sensitive after the infamous espionage cases of 1913.

Hofmann: And their pride was almost destroyed by the Redl case… The man was even head of counterintelligence, and had a sexual orientation not tolerated in his time. Well, I’m not sure which of the reasons hurt them more.

Hofmann: Sorry, Marcus. I should have told you that, as your supervisor.

Marcus: Mmm …

She nods but only manages a half-spoken grunt of affirmation.

Hofmann: Hmm, the belief that arcanists cannot cast arcane skills without the ability to speak, so old and superstitious. Like muzzling a dog when it gets out of control.

Hofmann: Can we dispel it now, Mr. Karl?

Karl: I have to remind you, Ms. Hofmann, that theoretically we have to go through an entire approval process before I authorize the dispelling of the mute spell.

Karl: But whatever, who cares! They shouldn’t have treated a young lady like that, for whatever reason.

Mr. Karl is a portly and pale man, his appearance punctuated by the scent of punch cards, in every way a representative of the empire’s bureaucratic system. Overall, he seems a pleasant sort of man, despite his position.

Marcus: … Phew!

Karl: Relax! This was just a minor incident! You’ll never find another place as tolerant as Vienna─the very same principles the Foundation strives for!

Karl: All registered arcanists can come and go as they please in this beautiful city! We even offer artists and musicians perks that cover every aspect of their lives, because Vienna loves art and music!

Karl: Oh, speaking of registered arcanists … Could you show me her arcanum license?

Hofmann: Arcanum license?

Karl: Yes, ladies from the headquarters! Even though I’m more than willing to skip some … unnecessary procedures for you, we still have to be careful about security, you know, especially when dealing with arcanists.

The portly bureaucrat rubs his hands together slyly. It is evident that he would be no easier to deal with than the golems.

Hofmann: I don’t think the headquarters issues such a license. No one told us to apply for one.

Karl: Oh, there must be some mistake! All arcanists entering Europe must possess an arcanum license issued by the local government. Austria enacted this policy in 1756. We abolished it in 1868, but we’re in the time of great tension, so … you know.

Karl: Perhaps this lady knows something … Ms. Marcus?

Marcus: … Y-Yes?

Karl: You are an arcanist, even though you’re sent by the headquarters, correct? Show it to me then, your arcanum license.

Hofmann’s brow furrows. This then is what it looks like when those in power wish to exert their authority. But the more pressing crisis here is that there would be no way to produce an authentic paper from 1914 without adequate preparation.

Hofmann: Marcus is my assistant on this mission, Mr. Karl. She is not to answer your questions directly, given her rank and status. It is me, the one in charge, that you should turn to, not my assistant.

Karl: Oh, lady from headquarters, don’t get me wrong. I didn’t mean to usurp your authority! It’s not an issue. You didn’t have to …

Marcus: I-I have it!

Hofmann: …?

…

Marcus hands over a slip of paper from her pocket.

Marcus: Here.

Karl: Oh … Huh!

Mr. Karl bursts into a series of protracted sighs.

Marcus: Erm, is everything ok, Mr. Karl? Is it not acceptable …?

Karl: Oh yes, it’s a perfectly good license. I can even smell the ink from the government office! Welcome to Vienna, Ms. Arcanist from Romania!

Karl: You should have shown it to me sooner. It would have saved us a lot of trouble.

…

The portly man smiles as he returns the permit to Marcus, who seems as though she has just stepped off a rocking boat.

Marcus: Erm, I’m so sorry to have wasted your time …

Hofmann: Speaking of which, no offense, but you are two hours and fifteen minutes late, Mr. Karl.

The apprentice’s apology is cut short, as she is taken aback by her mentor’s dramatic shift in tact.

Karl: My apologies. The Minister of Finance and I had a little too much at lunch. Well, your train was late, too, wasn’t it?

Hofmann: You were having lunch when you were supposed to be here? We agreed to …

Karl: Relax, lady from the headquarters! You’re just not used to the pace around here.

Karl: Look at this industrialization and so-called modern designs. They have turned our beloved city and our carefree life into a cold, impersonal machine. Please forgive the train staff, the sewer workers, and the plumbers! It is their right to be a little “unpunctual,” and enforcing their right is a symbol of our free will …

Karl: In the end, you didn’t wait too long, and I got to enjoy my lunch. It all worked out, right?

Hofmann remains unswayed and indignant, while behind her Marcus hangs her head.

Clearly, Mr. Karl’s joy is his alone.

Karl: So, why was your train late?

Hofmann: It crashed into a deer, a deer with free will.

Karl: Oh. Tragic.

Karl: Alright. Forgive this old Karl for his minor mistake, ladies. The rumors about the Golden Isle had kept the branch busy. There was no one else but me to pick you up.

Karl: It wouldn’t have been so embarrassing if headquarters had sent us manpower instead of taking it from us.

Hofmann: I’m also on the job, Mr. Karl. Should I include your complaints in the report?

Karl: No no no, that’s okay.

Karl: It’s just a group of lunatics banished to an island. They are arcane criminals from a small country, and people will forget about them in less than a month.

Karl: Only a few would believe that it has any real influence on Vienna, you know, the young artists who think highly of themselves, the schemers with evil plans, and the conspiracy theorists suffering from neurasthenia.

Karl: The Magyars and the Bohemians are already giving us a headache … Arcanists? They are not at all the Empire’s top ethnic concern!

Marcus: But aren’t you in charge of the registration and management of arcanists?

Karl: Well, first of all, isn’t my loyalty to His Majesty and the Empire?

Before you use the title, “Head of the Vienna Branch,” to define me, I am first and foremost an honored citizen of VIenna, and I serve our great Emperor, lady!

Marcus: And I thought you said this was a tolerant city …

Karl: Oh yes, we are responsible for dealing with the problems caused by the arcanists, just as we deal with the Magyars and the Bohemians.

Mr. Karl swings his cane and strides forward cheerfully.

Karl: Alright, that’s the venerable Vienna branch of the St. Pavlov Foundation over there. Let’s go!

Marcus touches her left cheek, still warm from the touch of the mute incantation.

Marcus: Mr. Karl is … very different from the staff of the headquarters …

Hofmann: In fact, most of the time the branch members aren’t comrades who share the same goals with us. They’re more like … local officials we have to deal with.

Hofmann: We need them as a buffer between the Foundation and the local governments. They can help us maintain peace in the human world.

Hofmann: But you can’t ask too much of them. Not all of them are cosmopolitans. Most of them put their Emperor and their country first. That’s why we shouldn’t disclose classified information to them.

Hofmann: … Does it still hurt?

Marcus: Huh? It feels much better now!

Hofmann: Good.

The mentor swings around as if on a swivel, with a face of plain curiosity.

Hofmann: … Marcus, did you already have that license before you joined the Foundation?

Marcus: Yes. Austria abolished that policy in 1868, but Romania did not until 1913 … I carried it with me out of habit. Thank goodness I did.

Marcus: This is indeed the era I’m from … That time has returned.

Hofmann: Never disclose any information about the “Storm” or the “era” to irrelevant people.

The apprentice halts her speech, cowed by Hofmann’s warning.

Hofmann: Put away your license. We need to catch up with Karl.

Hofmann: Remember my words, Marcus; never trust anyone, even if they’re a branch member of the Foundation.

6TH - 04| Secession Building

Marcus: So this …. Is the Vienna branch?!

Marcus: It’s … splendid! Look at the walls, simple yet elegant … It’s like a temple of modern art!

Marcus: Hmm, I can read … the contrast between different shapes and textures … This Mr. Olbrich must have put much effort into the design.

Marcus: It must be a very pleasant place to work at, Mr. Karl!

Karl: Huh? Oh no, this is the Secession Building.

Karl: Another meeting place for young artists to show off, other than the cafes. They said they wanted to break away from traditional art. Well, it’s more like they’re breaking away from human life.

Karl: There’s nothing to like here, only inexplicable paintings and neurasthenic lunatics, but people keep coming back. There are even secession groups to the secession, like cells dividing through mitosis.

Karl: The entrance to our venerable branch is on the left. Please follow me …

…

A massive golem stands at the door, towering over the approaching trio.

Karl: Notice the guard? It’s the most loyal and reliable knight of Vienna, powered entirely by arcane ritual. The greatest achievement since the revival of arcanum in Europe!

Karl: In 1662, a royal magician from London offered it to the Emperor at the time. Since then, it’s guarded the Empire for centuries …

???: Ah, sir!

…

A figure emerges from within the shadow of the golem.

Marcus: … Hmm?

Heinrich: Greetings, dear Sir Scarpia! How is your son Tamino? I hear he’s not getting along well with his fiancee.

Marcus: He’s a strange one. What’s he doing standing in a corner like that?

Karl: … My apologies, Ms. Hofmann. Please hold on.

Karl: Terrific, Heinrich, just as terrific as your pathetic art career.

Heinrich: That’s great! Best wishes to you, Sir Scarpia!

Heinrich: Oh, my apologies.

He stands in the distance, giving a nod towards Hofmann and Marcus.

Heinrich: Greetings to you, Angelotti, and … Unknown Lady.

The gentleman turns and moves briskly into the temple-like edifice, as peculiar in his exit as he was in his entrance.

Karl: See, he is one of those crazy artists. Everyone knows that I only have this beautiful daughter of mine! This mustacheless gentleman went to study in Berlin and has just returned.

Karl: I guess he didn’t learn much in class, and now he’s throwing himself into opera …

Karl: He must’ve listened to Wagner and Mozart so much it damaged his central nervous system. That’s why he sees everyone as a character in an opera. Operas and music, they do harm to your eyes and fill your ears with useless sounds …

Marcus: Is every artist like this? Hmm, Scarpia, Angelotti … They are indeed characters from the opera Tosca.

Karl: Oops, I am getting off topic.

Karl’s cane raps on the stone creature in front of him.

Karl: Don’t worry. We’ve modified its original ritual to meet the needs here. Lots of people come in and out, after all.

Karl: You just need to knock on the armor three times, touch your mustache, and it will let you in.

Karl: I forgot you have no mustaches, my dear ladies! But you do have … arcane skills, right?

Hofmann: First of all, I’m not an arcanist. Second, I’m not as humorous as you think.

Karl: Fine! But that was no joke. This thing only accepts mustaches. It’s a symbol that every gentleman should have … And not everyone’s like Heinrich!

The absurdity seems to have finally broken the senior investigator’s patience.

Hofmann: …

Hofmann: Just give me the list of arcanists we mentioned in the letter, Mr. Karl. We don’t need to go into the branch.

Karl: Oh, no. Do you really want to miss the scenery of the Danube? And the sight of the modern transport system? There’s no better way to tour the Ring Road than by carriage! And we’ve booked a room for you at the Sacher hotel …

Karl: By the way, have you tried the treasure of Austria?

Hofmann: Thank you, we already had it while you were enjoying your lunch.

Hofmann: Now, please. Give us, the list.

Hofmann’s tone marks the request as non-negotiable.

Hofmann: And I’m sure you’ve received a telegram from the headquarters. You are to investigate the people around Theophil von Dittarsdorf.

Karl: Ok. Alright, it’s a pity, lady from the headquarters.

Karl: Here you are … And that’s all of it, all of it!

Karl: Oh, and this …

Karl: Two tickets to the Vienna Court Opera. Please give them to Mr. Richard, and when you see him … send my sincerest regards.

Hofmann stands still, maintaining a distant politeness.

Hofmann: I will.

Marcus: … Who’s Mr. Richard?

Hoffman: The contact between the Foundation and the Vienna branch in 1914 … a phantom of history.

Hoffman: At that time, people still believed the golden age that had begun with the last generation would continue as it should, and that their position in government would be as unshakable as the long-standing Empire.

Hofmann nods, watching as old Karl taps his cane and strokes his beard, before disappearing into the corridor opened by the golem.

Karl: … Hmm? Shoot. It won’t let me in!

Hofmann: You’re not joking are you, Mr. Karl?

Karl: I am not! Darn. What is going on? Is this thing broken?

Karl: Ugh, I’m stuck … MY belly! I had this suit custom-made in Paris!

Golem: ═╩╬!!

The ancient knight awakens in a slow stir, shaking off a heavy layer of dust as thick as a Viennese title.

Karl: What on earth is going on?! Why is the defense system activated?!

A comical voice emanates from within the statue, lilting and quick, like a rubber ball bouncing around inside a hollow frame.

Hofmann: *sighs*

Hofmann: Marcus, can you “read” its internal rituals?

Marcus: Hmm, considering its sluggishness … yes, I think so.

Hofmann: Good. It’s a good chance for you to get some experience. Just stay safe.

Karl: Oh no! Ms. Hofmann, these golems represent the spirit of the Vienna branch … You shouldn’t be so violent …

Hofmann: Adapt, improve, and advance. Arcanum should be kept up with the times, not lock itself away in a museum and wallow in the good old days.

Hofmann: There was something visibly wrong with this thing, and we were rightfully doing our job. If you have any concerns about this, I’ll include them in the report.

Hofmann: And I should remind you that you’ve spent too much time on your … free will. We’re running out of time.

Karl: No, no, procedures are not the problem here! Darn it … you’re not German, are you?

The division head mutters softly, before proceeding inside at last.

Hofmann: So what’s wrong with the golem?

Marcus: Hmm, as Mr. Karl said, its structure is simple and yet incredible … The malfunction comes from one of the components. There’s an extra stroke on the enchantment.

Marcus: These strokes look new. I guess the staff made a mistake when they did the maintenance or repair.

Hofmann: Let’s hope so.

…

Hofmann: Now take a look at this before Mr. Karl comes out.

Hofmann: Several days ago, a member of the Field Agent Squad found a painting that was reported in this magazine, the Pan.

Hofmann: It belonged to Theophil von Dittarsdorf, a deceased artist from Vienna who committed suicide. Its name is The Salvation, and it was found along with a poem.

Hofmann: The poem mentioned the “doomsday,” the “reversal of time,” and the “rain.”

…

Marcus: … Salvation and rain? It sounds so …

Hofmann: Yes. And given the sightings of Manus leaders in Vienna …

Hofmann: We believe Theophil came into contact with Manus leaders before he died, and probably learned the truth of the “Storm” and the method of “salvation.” This was how Manus Vindictae recruited arcanists in 1929.

Marcus: Hmm … If he knew the method of “salvation,” why did he still kill himself?

Marcus takes the magazine with ready curiosity, looking at the small, clipped section.

Marcus: “Seeking Silenus in the woods, I asked him,”

Marcus: “What is the best and most wonderful thing for man?”

…

Marcus & Isolde: “‘The emptiness where man was never born!’ He said.”

…

Isolde: “I looked at it, the ring of life, the ring of all lives.”

Isolde: “Your hands form the ring, and the judgment is pronounced.”

Isolde: “On the doomsday, at the dusk when history fades away.”

Isolde: “Oh world! Its head bites its feet, its knees touch its nose.”

Isolde: “Oh man! They inhabit the earth, waiting for the sky to fall.”

Isolde: “Yesterday turns into tomorrow, tomorrow reverts to yesterday.”

Isolde: “Who shall vanish in the rain?”

Isolde: “Who shall be granted the eternal happiness, the grace from above─”

Isolde: “And that emptiness, the cessation of existence?”

…

[Secession Building]

Heinrich: That was so moving, Ms. Sieglinde.

Heinrich: Poor Siegmund, my best friend, has returned to the void. Thank you all for coming today to shed tears to our departed hero.

Heinrich: He was a righteous and noble man who cared for his people. He was still trying to save the arcanists on the Golden Isle before he died. He left us so many beautiful poems and paintings.

Heinrich: Shame that the fire burned everything to ashes. The only thing that survived was … The Salvation.

Heinrich: We were in a golden age of progressive ideas. We believed the Enlightenment would make ignorance history and lead us to paradise, where everyone would be saved …

Heinrich: The barrier between arcanists and humans would be removed. In Vienna, that tolerant city, we would stand together, hand in hand, back to back, reliving the intimacy we once shared when we first came into this world.

Heinrich: “Oh world! Its head bites its feet, its knees touch its nose.”

Heinrich: But the reality is, the survival space of arcanists is shrinking. We try to speak up in our own language, but that only makes us strangers in our own land.

Heinrich: That’s why we have decided to exhibit Siegmund’s last work, not only in memory of the deceased …

Heinrich: … but in memory of his noble spirit, his sincere concern for his people, and his scrutiny of this tragic world.

The people gathered nod their heads. Some of the women begin to weep softly.

Heinrich: There is no need to be sad, my friends! He has left us with the Rhinegold! We will found a committee with the funds raised by the exhibition to improve the condition of unregistered arcanists.

Guest I: The youngest and most outstanding opera singer in Vienna, Teophil’s sister, Isolde von Dittarsdorf, will present the details.

Amidst the applause, Heinrich bows, handing off the stage to its true protagonist.

Isolde: …

She takes a graceful step forward.

…

Marcus: Now I see …

Marcus: … why we were ordered to investigate Theophil’s connections. There may be spies from Manus Vindictae among them.

Her mentor nods in approval, handing over a stack of documents.

Hofmann: I know the Vienna branch has a lot of bureaucratic problems, but we need their help to carry out the mission in this era.

Hofmann: The search warrant, the letter of introduction, the evidence collection permit … They’ve provided us with all the official documents we need in this era, as well as the list of all the arcanists in Vienna in 1914.

Hofmann: But we’re not going to cooperate with them any further, because of the requirements to confidentiality. We’ll only need manpower from them in the following operations.

Marcus replies by opening the thick register of arcanists. Desperate to prove she hasn’t gotten distracted this time.

Hofmann: … In case you spend a whole day on the “A” section, Marcus, we’re looking for “Theophil,” starts with a “T.”

Marcu: H-How did you know I was starting from line A …

The apprentice droops her shoulders, sinking back into the book. With the help of her arcane skill, she easily finds the information that Hofmann seeks.

Marcus: It says Theophil belonged to a group of artists called “The Circle.”

Marcus: They often gathered in the Secession Building. Madam Hofmann, I think we can make contact with them one by one …

???: Ahhh!

Hofmann: What’s happening?!

Marcus: Erm, I sense strong arcane fluctuations over there!

Her eyes center on the door of the Secession Building.

Marcus: I think it’s … its’s a …

Marcus: … ghost?

6TH - 05 | A Bad Seance

Heinrich: … Isolde? Isolde!

Guest I: My God, she passed out again!

People gather around in a loose circle, wringing their hands but offering little help, knowing there is little they can do besides making a spectacle of their compassion.

Guest I: She must have smelling salts on her. Find them …

Kakania: What is going on?

Kakania: Make way, make way! Let me see …

Heinrich: Kakania! People, make way for the doctor!

Kakania: Isolde, can you hear me? Oh no, it’s a seizure. She’s going to bite herself.

Kakania: Get a stick! Heinrich, do you have any props she can bite …

Isolde: *panting* Doctor! Help … Please help me … They are here! The paintings … They are here!

Kakania: D**n it! She can’t wait … Isolde, open your mouth … Oof!

Guest I: Doctor! Your hand is bleeding from the bite!

Kakania: It’s okay! What happened just now? She was fine when I left ten minutes ago.

Heinrich: I … don’t know! We finished reciting Siegmund’s poem …

Kakania: … Siegmund? Oh, you mean Theophil. I see what’s going on here. You’ve aroused her trauma.

Guest II: You shouldn’t have invited her to her brother’s exhibition, Heinrich! And you even read his death notice in public! You should have known it would upset her!

Guest II: He was the only family she had left!

Heinrich: *gasp* I did not .. I thought she had completely recovered.

Kakania: … What?

Heinrich: She should have recovered from the electroshock therapy.

Kakania: What kind of nonsense is that? Dr. Schwartz is a liar without a conscience! He takes pleasure in the pain of his patients!

Kakania: I know how he managed to fool the Medical Association …

Kakania: Those rich morons don’t care about the patients at all. Soon as you mention fancy words like “advanced” or “science,” they’ll throw their wallets at you as if they’ll be left behind by the times.

Kakania: They’re all blinded by the shining glamor of “progressivism,” and they even scoff at psychoanalysis, the real meaningful discovery of the era …

Isolde: Ahh!

A piercing scream silences her arguments.

The screaming woman, drenched in sweat, sees the framed painting turn into a bone saw aimed at cutting open her skull, where most certainly the syrup in her brain would diffuse like milk poured into a cup of tea.

How adorable─an almost delightful thought … But, but …

What if it’s like the oil paint on this canvas? Or like a teacup? Like a neat triangle? Like a square, like a square, like a square, like a circle─

…

Isolde: No! Theophil!

Isolde: …Get away from me!

…

The electric lights go out, and a series of candles ignite simultaneously.

Kakania: …?!

Isolde: Haha, hahaha! Look at the ring, Theophil. It’s so beautiful …

In the candlelight, Isolde’s face is deathly pale.

Isolde: *sobs* No, this was my fault …

Isolde: Yes, yes, I will do better. I can do this! I can still sing …

Kakania: Ugh … Isolde?

The woman pulls Kakania down by her collar.

Isolde: Please look at me, Doctor! Help me? Please help me!

Kakania: I will, Isolde. Now let go of me first.

Heinrich: Oh no. It’s a seance! But Ms. Tosca only does it before a performance.

Kakania: Of course it turned out this way. She’s lost control. She summoned evil spirits this time, not the good ones!

Isolde: No, no! Get away, get away!

Kakania breaks free from her grip and follows Isolde’s distant gaze.

Kakania: She’s afraid of the paintings! Oh, poor girl. It’s her brother’s paintings …

Kakania: Ugh!

Heinrich: Ms. Kakania, watch out!

Kakania: Heinrich, give me a hand! Draw the ghosts away, by whatever means!

Kakania: Alright. You’re safe now, Isolde. Now, feel the pressure of my hands.

The wandering spirits busy themselves in entangling the unfortunate gentleman. Kakania, catching her breath, gently clasps her hands over Isolde’s ears.

Kakania: The pressure will remind you of some things. They’ll enter your mind slowly and steadily, and they won’t hurt you …

Isolde: *deep breath*

Kakania: Good, that’s it.

Kakania: When I release the pressure, open your eyes slowly. Those things will fall softly to the ground, like feathers. Now grab them gently …

Kakania: Now tell me, what did you see? What happened?

Isolde: *pants* Ugh …

The woman clenches her teeth, struggling to push out her gritted words.

Isolde: Ugh … Dr. Schwartz told me that humans are rational and we should be able to control ourselves completely. But I failed. The Dittarsdorfs can’t afford another lunatic like me.

Isolde: I will be abandoned by the audience, by everyone!

Kakania: No! You are not them, Isolde. As long as you receive proper treatment in the hospital …

Isolde: Please don’t, please! I am cured … The shock therapy worked well, very well!

Kakania: Isolde …

Isolde: No, I musn’t act like mother or Theophil … The Dittarsdorfs can’t bear … The opera can’t bear …

Still murmuring, her breathing gradually evens out.

Kakania: … Heinrich, please take Ms. Dittarsdorf to get some rest.

Heinrich: I will.

The gentleman barks a command to the guests gathered around and moves to help the girl into the backstage. Kakania rises, rushing to the door of the Secession Building like a gust of wind.

Heinrich: What about you, doctor? Where are you going?

Kakania: I’m going to get that d****d Schwartz!

Her green figure swiftly disappears beneath the doorway.

Heinrich: …!

But before the door can close, a hand halts its motion

Heinrich: Kakania … Hmm You are from the Foundation, and …

Heinrich: Angelotti, and the Unknown Lady?

6TH - 06 | Yes, Prime Minister

Outside the temple of art, the mentor imparts a final set of admonitions to her apprentice.

Hofmann: Remember, Marcus, the working staff of the Foundation branch will take care of the despite in their fashion. We just need to follow him in.

Hofmann: The members of “The Circle” are top priority, but before any of them can be convicted, as said before, all we have to do is …

Hofmann: Silently observe and respect their lives.

Marcus: Understood.

Marcus: …!

Marcus: I almost bumped into her! That lady in green seemed to be in a bad mood. Shall I ask the gentleman from the branch who she is? Hmm, he seems busy at the moment …

Marcus: But that gentleman is a person of this era. If I interrupt him, am I also interrupting his original course of action?

Marcus sinks back into her mire of indecision.

Marcus: …!

Hofmann gently pats Marcus’s shoulder, drawing back her focus. Fortunately, the Vienna branch’s officer does not notice this minor episode.

…

His attention is captured by the arrival of an uninvited acquaintance.

Heinrich: My, my, Mr. Rigoletto! Your hair has grown so fast … To what do we owe the pleasure? Are you also here for the exquisite art?

Foundation Staff: Can you just be normal for once, Heinrich? And stop calling me by those opera names!

Foundation Staff: Someone reported an arcane disturbance here. I see candles … Are you holding a seance? I must remind you that arcane rituals are not allowed unless you have a separate permit!

Guest II: Excuse me? That’s not fair! The first permit already costed us a …

Foundation Staff: Please calm yourself, sir, and be mindful of what you implied. The Viennese government has ensured you the greatest possible freedom through working with us.

Foundation Staff: Who do you think cleaned up after you people after those fires, passionate murders, and deadly stampedes? We can’t bear the consequences of your “moments of epiphany” forever!

Foundation Staff: Not to mention the seance is one of the most dangerous acts. We’ve had two colleagues injured, still being treated for mental illness in the Vienna General Hospital.

Foundation Staff: You will find no other place as tolerant and open-minded as this one. In return, you should do your part and cooperate with the government.

Marcus: …

Hofmann: …

Heinrich: Seance? What seance? Nothing of the sort, Mr. Rigoletto. This is just a … rehearsal of the play.

Heinrich: The candles, the setting, and of course, these paintings once bathed in fire! Yes, this is an art exhibit, a youth rally, or as we prefer to call it, a visualization of the future.

Foundation Staff: I demand a rational conversation. Now, I must question the sanity of this gathering─is there no one here who is of sound mind? If not, I’ll have to …

Isolde: I am terribly sorry …

Isolde: Mr. Strauss, sorry to have kept you waiting.

Foundation Staff: Ms. Dittarsdorf! Bless you, Madam. I did not expect to see you here!

Isolde: Oh, sorry that we’ve troubled you. I’m here for my late brother’s exhibition, and for a rehearsal of the coming performance. We, we got a little carried away! Made you come all the way here to check on us …

Foundation Staff: Please, Madam. As your friend, I do not wish to cause you discomfort. In fact, Mr. Karl and I were talking about you over brunch earlier, he was truly impressed by your talent at the opera!

Isolde: Ah, Mr. Karl is too kind. Since my mother passed away, he has been such a caring friend to the family.

Foundation Staff: Well then, this was all just a misunderstanding. But madam, please understand that I still have procedures to go through.

Foundation Staff: Ahem, would you mind if I … investigated a little?

The man leans in, his voice a hushed whisper.

Foundation Staff: By “investigate,” you know … just a quick look around the building.

Isolde: We are grateful to have a responsible employee like you, Mr. Strauss. Please, help yourself.

At the other end of the hall, investigators from headquarters uphold their duties with familiar diligence and effort.

Hofmann: …

Hofmann imperceptibly shakes her coat, as fine threads, like spider silk, disperse into the air attached to tiny floating particles.

Marcus: Wow, the “Spider Tail” and the “Detection Spores” … These are Laplace’s auxiliary devices for perceiving arcane power … I’ve never seen one before. Only investigators of level four or higher are allowed to use them …

Noticing the excited glances towards her, Hofmann leans in to whisper to the young investigator.

Hofmann: Marcus, come, give me a hand.

Marcus: On it.

Marcus: These burnt pictures … they’re the work of Theophil von Dittarsdorf. They’re the perfect subjects for “reading.”

…

The lamp is gripped a little tighter. She lifts her head, as she begins “reading,” the world around her becomes a matter of effortless ease to view.

Marcus: Only a third of the picture can be “read” … But I can see it clearly.

Marcus: Mmm! An ingenious composition that balances the different elements of the picture. Sadly, the creator focused too much on the form and overlooked the content. The frame is made of … Ah, not important. Next page.

Marcus: This one is luckier. Half of it survived the fire, so we can see the lower half of the lady in the picture. But … eh, Theophil certainly had a way with women. She was not his first prey.

Marcus: And this one, only a frame remains. The rest of his works are too damaged, but I do remember an intact one somewhere …

Marcus: But aside from this, I don’t see anything else. Next page.

Marcus: …!

…

She turns, colliding with a pair of light-colored eyes. Despite the distance, it feels as though Isolde is gazing back at her.

Marcus: People can be “read” too. That person, Ms. Isolde …

A deep breath. The page unfolds before her eyes once again.

Marcus: Unlike other ladies pursuing the latest fashions in Paris, she still wears the corset, with only some Art Nouveau jewelry by her waist. She’s as delicate as a butterfly.

Marcus: She is a renowned medium. The Dittarsdorf family is well known for their mediumship. Nowadays they use that power mostly for art. That is, they summon a spirit to possess their body so they can sing, write, and paint like no other.

Marcus: They also suffered for this power. Wracked by neurosis and hysteria, the family has had very few members despite its long history.

…

Marcus: Wait a minute …

Marcus: That picture behind her is still intact! And … it is enormous …

Marcus: Is that … The Salvation?

Marcus: Strange. This painting is …?

…

Heinrich: You have a keen eye for art, Miss.

Marcus: Ah!

A voice leaps up behind her, bursting from behind the warm smile of the freckle-faced man.

Heinrich: This painting is the work of my dearest friend, Siegmund─The Salvation! The only piece he left behind that survived the consuming flames.

Heinrich: These enchanting, magical circles, one next to another … Oh, I Was only reciting Ms. Kakania. We’re both passionate about the subject.

Marcus: …!

Heinrich: How regrettable, she would’ve given you a much better explanation if she were here. Her words can easily stir one’s soul.

Marcus: Did you say Kakania? You have a friend called Kakania?

Heinrich: Oh, yes. Every artist has their own nickname. I also have the honor of knowing the Orange Knight, Victor of the Rhine, Apfelstrudel …

Heinrich: Are you a friend of Kakania? Too bad she just left. She should be meeting with Dr. Schwartz by now.

Marcus looks up. Her mentor casts her eyes back to the same spot and shakes her head gently.

Marcus: No, the name sounded a little strange to me, that’s all … But I appreciate the explanation, sir.

In the air, the dispersed spores stir imperceptibly.

*bang! bang! crash!*

The dust from the explosion pervades the air, sucking deep into nostrils and open mouths.

Foundation Staff: *cough* What happened?!

Isolde: …!

Foundation Staff: Are these … ghosts? Didn’t you say there wasn’t a seance? Ms. Dittarsdorf, I would very much like an explanation.

Heinrich: Whoa! They’re still chasing me.

Hofmann: … The “Detection Spores” have taken direct effect and enveloped the ghosts. Marcus, can you still “read”?

Marcus: Hmm … I think so!

Hofmann: Good. I’ll draw its attention. You take care of the arcanum part.

Foundation Staff: Ms. Dittarsdorf, you told me this was just an opera rehearsal. Now look at this mess─and more importantly, my two assistants are still here! I must ask you for a good reason to report to my superior.

Isolde: …

The pale girl remains silent, bowing her head.

Karl: Oh! Isolde, my dear, lovely girl.

An all-too-familiar mustachioed face arrives without invitation. Karl’s steps are at a steady trouncing waddle as he approaches and takes Isolde’s hand.

Isolde: Mr. Karl!

Foundation Staff: Director.

Karl: Look at you, so pale! The play is sapping your strength. Come, child, come to me.

Karl: I told Schwartz to take good care of you! Well, I guess he can’t be in two places at once. The frequent presentations must’ve been too much for a doctor such as he.

Karl: I’ve learned that you’ve recovered from hysteria, which is good, but promise me that you’ll look after yourself, will you? Your late mother suffered a tragic end, and it’d be unbearable for the Empire to lose another star.

Isolde: You flatter me.

Karl: Joseph.

Foundation Staff: Yes, director.

Karl: Don’t be so hard on them, those were wonderful stage effects! Heinrich is an expert at this, yes? What better demonstrates our free will than respecting the artists and their work? None of us would mind an episode of excitement every once in a while!

Karl meets Hofmann’s eyes in another overly affable attempt at good nature.

Karl: Even the gentlemen from the headquarters would agree with me, don’t you think?

Foundation Staff: Yes, you’re right …

Hofmann: …

Karl: We are short on manpower, and the assistants should focus on more important matters.

Hofmann: …

Hofmann: Hm. We should leave.

6TH - 07 | A "Fair" Duel

Marcus: Good day. I would like to check the date of a novel.

Marcus: Yes, it is The Man Without Qualities, by Robert Musil.

Marcus: …

Marcus: Oh. I see, I see …

Hofmann: What did they say?

Marcus: Just as I remembered it … The novel was completed in 1930, the word “Kakania” was also created by Robert Musil.

Marcus: Kakania should not be a nickname for anyone in 1914.

Hofmann: It doesn’t belong to this era. She could be with Manus Vindictae, or, at least is associated with their people.

Marcus: What’s more … When we were at the Secession Building, I “read” that painting, The Salvation.

Marcus: It seemed … out of place compared to the other paintings. Theophil may have applied a new technique on The Salvation, a more daring kind, audacious, even. But these are only subtleties … I can’t be too certain. I was interrupted by that strangely speaking gentleman, so I didn’t get everything.

Marcus: Another thing, its content reminds me of the symbol of “The Circle.”

Marcus rummages through the bookcase, finding the pamphlet tucked within the thick register.

…

Marcus: The twisting circle resembles the circles in The Salvation. Heinrich called them magical circles, one next to another. They must be more than just circles, I think …

Marcus: Was he demonstrating the madness of passion? But the lines are clean. Perhaps the purity of eternity? No, the circles are too twisted for that …

Marcus: Or, was he just representing a primitive state of being …?

Hofmann: I don’t understand any of it. So, this must be art.

Marcus: Hahaha, ma’am. You’re funny sometimes.

Hofmann: …? I wasn’t joking.

Marcus: ..?

…

Hofmann: Based on what we know, we can’t be sure if this group of young arcanists and the Manus are connected. But we all know that the latter is eager to win over the cynical, revolutionary youth.

Hofmann: You did well, Marcus.

Hofmann: The important figures of “The Circle”─Isolde, Heinrich, and even the late Theophil─we have made contact with them all.

Hofmann: Only this Kakania … What does the intel say about her?

Marcus: Kakania, also known as Ms. Klara, inherited her arcane skills from her family. She’s able to reflect people’s thoughts in a mirror. She was once a medical student, but dropped out halfway through. These days, she shows up at various social events as a psychiatrist, which the Foundation tries to prohibit because she doesn’t have a license.

Marcus: And she is also … an activist.

Hofmann: An activist?

Marcus: According to Mr. Heinrich, she is meeting with a doctor named Schwartz today.

Hofmann: Schwartz … The family doctor Karl mentioned. Let’s try our luck there.

…

Notary: Now then, Ms. Klara, Mr. Schwartz. Only three weapons are allowed in the duel─the army knife, the sword, and the pistol.

Kakania: I will leave the choice to Dr. Schwartz, for he has more experience in these duels than I do. It's an honor to fight you, and I look forward to ending your winning streak.

Dr. Schwartz: Not so much an honorable thing for me.

Marcus: Excuse me … Please …

Hofmann extends her hand, mercilessly cleaving a path through the crowd.

Hofmann: Pardon me. What is happening?

Passerby I: A duel, ma’am!

Passerby I: Just as Dr. Schwartz was demonstrating his therapy, Ms. Klara barged right in! They were arguing, and this is how they decided to end it.

Passerby I: To ensure fairness of the duel, the combat must happen within 48 hours of the challenge … But I’ve never seen one take place on the spot.

Passerby II: Well, I hope they know what they’re doing. I don’t want to get caught as collateral damage.

Marcus: That green dress … So she is Kakania! What do we do? If she gets injured, our mission will …

Hofmann: Don’t worry about people in their time. It is their life to live. Never intervene if you don’t know the exact consequences of your actions. The course of history is more important than our investigation.

Hofmann: This is investigator Greta Hofmann. What …? Hold on.

Hofmann: I’ll be right back.

Marcus: Where are you going?

Hofmann: The Field Agent Squad needs to speak to me. This won’t take long.

Hofmann: I will leave this to you. Remember what I said, Marcus.

Marcus: Yes, madam.

Hofmann turns toward the Baroque wooden door made of mahogany, before her figure disappears amidst the crowd. Only her still-unfledged assistant remains.

Marcus: Leaving this to me, to me, to me …

Marcus recites it to herself as a mantra, attempting to slow her racing heart.

Marcus: Breathe, Marcus! There’s nothing to be nervous about. You can’t be an assistant forever. There will come a day when you’re all on your own.

Marcus: Just like at the Secession Building, I only have to watch her. If I end up talking to Ms. Kakania, I’ll just pretend to be an ordinary employee of the Foundation … Easy!

Marcus: You used to do well on your own, when you were reading in the lighthouse and the forest …

…

Marcus: Mm, Dr. Schwartz … Three times he has been involved in duels, and three times he has won─impressive! This time, he’s still going for the pistol.

Marcus: But … Ms. Kakania does not have an assistant. And she only has one witness in this duel. This is not right. Why did she agree to this?

Marcus: She’s being reckless. Even an arcanist should have at least one assistant in a duel.

…

Marcus: Dr. Schwartz’s assistant brought them a pair of pistols … FN Model 1910. Hmm, is that a right weapon for a duel? It’s too crowded here. I can’t see …

Marcus: Hmm?

Marcus: No, the pistol is given to Ms. Kakania … something’s wrong with it.

Marcus: The bullets … Her life is in danger if the duel begins!

…

Marcus: But Madam Hofmann warned me about the consequence of intervention …

Marcus: What if, what if, I just go and talk to her as an employee of the Foundation branch, like I did at the Secession Building?

Marcus: So far, Heinrich has been difficult to communicate with, while Mr. Karl doesn’t want us to get in touch with Ms. Isolde.

Marcus: Ms. Kakania is the only person who is both a friend of Theophil and associated with “The Circle.” But I have to be careful with this name.

Marcus: If she is indeed one of the Manus Vindictae, I will be jeopardizing this mission by going near her … But wait! She doesn’t know that I’m from the headquarters, so she will probably talk to me. But how do I know she doesn’t know my identity? What if Mr. Karl is not to be trusted? And what if Mr. Karl and she are in this together? Their names both start with a “K” …

Marcus: …

Marcus: What am I thinking?

Marcus pats her cheeks with an unaware gusto, drawing side glances from the others present.

Marcus: Stop, stop! I’m not on the Flannan Isles anymore. I can’t waste my day on endless thoughts!

Marcus: Remember what Madam Hofmann said, think of the immediate mission. I have to prevent Kakania from getting killed in the duel. She has the clues about Theophil that I need …

Marcus: Never intervene if you don’t know the exact consequences of your actions …

A long, deep breath.

Marcus: I have assessed the risks, madam. I will not stand by and watch this happen … even if I don’t know the consequences!

Dr. Schwartz: I need to make this clear to you. Not only have you hindered Ms. Dittarsdorf from getting the treatment she needs, but you have repeatedly defamed me.

Kakania: Oh, I can only admit that you’re right if you have to call a different academic perspective slander.

Dr. Schwartz: “A different academic perspective” …?! Do you really think Freud and his petty tricks are “academic”?

Dr. Schwartz: One could hardly find a worse insult to science than this!

Kakania: Is that so? Do you really mean that? Rumor has it that you taught the military the method of hypnosis for a price. Do you wish to clear things up here?

Dr. Schwartz: …

Kakania: Hah, your silence is a resounding “yes.” Tell me, why did you please the ministers with these “petty tricks,” but not with your “most advanced” electrotherapy you’ve been touting? Do you harbor negative feelings towards Mr. Freud because of his open rejection of hypnosis?

Dr. Schwartz: … What does any of this have to do with you?

Kakania: Many things, Mr. Schwartz. Your behavior has greatly undermined the interests of arcanists, who are your own people.

Kakania: Not to mention that hypnosis is a violation of a patient’s free will! And I have reason to believe that this duel is entirely personal. I must make it clear that your wife’s appointment with me has nothing to do with the rumors of your … lackluster performance in the bedroom.

Kakania: I’m not the real enemy, Mr. Schwartz. The gossipmongers and the tabloid writers are!

Dr. Schwartz: You, you …

Notary: Are both dualists ready?

Dr. Schwartz: Perfectly ready.

Kakania: I’m ready too.

Marcus: No! She’s not!

Kakania & Dr. Schwartz: …?

Marcus: Ms. Kakania needs another minute!

Their collective gaze causes her voice to tremble slightly.

Marcus: Err, ahh, the crowd … shoot me, I want to go home … Why oh why did you apply for this mission, Marcus …

Despite her mental turmoil, she extends her hand, attempting to ascend with some dignity intact, or at least without resorting to crawling.

Marcus: I-I am Ms. Kakania’s assistant. I am here to …

Kakania: …

Kakania: Sorry to interrupt, miss. But the last time I checked, I couldn’t possibly afford a St. Pavlov Foundation member to be my aide.

Marcus: Ah! Darn it, I forgot about my badge …

Kakania retracts her pistol, twirling it around her finger.

Kakania: So the Foundation is trying to intervene. Don’t worry, Ms. Foundation staff! Look around, we’re doing it the human way─no arcane skills involved! The head of the Foundation branch should not be your role model. Mind you, you’re giving up a part of your integrity for taking his Krones! A terrible deal indeed.

Marcus: I …

Kakania: Besides, we’re using human guns! We don’t need the Foundation’s license to use these. I’m not doing anything against the Foundation’s rules, am I?

The Browning pistol spins once more in a perfect circle.

Kakania: If it’s urgent, can we wait until after the duel? Please stand back, the bullets can’t tell the difference between friend and enemy.

Marcus: I, I …

Marcus is again interrupted by the rapid-fire speech of the other party.

Marcus: …Please don’t use that gun! The bullets in it are dangerous!

Kakania: … What?

Marcus: The bullets are wrong! The gun will burst if you pull the trigger! Sir, I demand that the gun be checked …

Kakania grips the half-turned gun tightly, before deftly removing the magazine.

Kakania: …!

Kakania: The size of these bullets …

A cold bead of sweat drips down her spine.

Kakania: I need an explanation, Mr. Schwartz. I thought you at least had the integrity of a gentleman! The bullets in my gun are wrong. If I pull the trigger, as Ms. Foundation here said, the barrel will burst.

Passerby II: A bursted barrel? I remember now. That Anton boy lost the duel to Schwartz for the same reason! Did Schwartz do something to his gun, too? And was the guard in on it too?

Notary: …!

Dr. Schwartz: D**n! … This is defamation! I have never …!

Vienna Guard: Freeze! Who is dueling here?!

Passerby I: Ahhh! The guards are here!

Passerby III: Hey, don’t step on my dress!

Marcus: Not good! Madam Hofmann has not come back yet. Madam Hofmann …!

The young assistant is engulfed within the chaotic crowd.

Kakania: Hey, miss! The helpful Ms. Foundation employee!

Marcus: Ms. Kakania?

The green-clad pistoleer extends her hand.

Kakania: Don’t stand there … Come here!

Kakania grabs the shy assistant’s hand, pulling her into a fierce embrace without a second word.

Marcus: Aahh!

Kakania leaps, alighting herself onto the window frame with the lightness of a bird.

Kakania: Okay, this is a quiet road … We’re going to jump, Ms. Foundation. Three, two, one … Here we go!

6TH - 08 | Mirror and Lantern

Vendor I: Kakania! This way! Over here!

Kakania: Illich! Thanks a lot! The prop sure came in handy.

Kakania tears off her fake beard, fanning herself with a hand.

Marcus: Mmm … Ugh! Phew, finally. Why do I keep having things stick to my lips …

Vendor I: Hah! Be careful with that. It is no ordinary beard! Every single strand was soaked in a Bohemian potion mixed with bloodroot, toad’s heart, and javangall …

Vendor I: Why were the guards after you?

Kakania: That’s a long story. And oh, don’t worry about this kind little lady. She saved my life, and she’s a half … a third of a friend!

Marcus: A third of …

She discreetly releases the button of the communicator in her pocket.

Marcus: Ugh … This is bad, the connection is down. I can’t get in touch with Madam Hofmann. She’s probably in an important conversation with the Field Agent Squad and has calls on block …

Marcus: It’s okay, Marcus, you can do this yourself, just stay in the conversation! Communication is not that hard. You’ve done this through before. You can do it!

Despite having written about a thousand ways to start a conversation, she never expected to find herself in a situation like this.

Marcus frantically racks her mind for topics to discuss. Fortunately, everyone present is far more talkative than she is.

Vendor I: My, my, Kakania! Are you friends with government officials now? Times have changed indeed! I’ve been here for a whole year, but I’ve never seen an official without a beard!

Vendor I: Where are you from? Croatia? Moravia? Galicia?

Marcus: I grew up in Romania …

Vendor I: Oh, I’m from Bosnia and Herzegovina … That makes us friends, since we’re both from somewhere-nia! Gahaha!

Kakania: Be careful on the streets these days, Illich. You could be in trouble too if the guards catch you! After all, you haven’t got a license.

Marcus: Eh? You don’t?

Vendor I: Oh, of course not! Have you read the requirements? “Records of the safe use of arcane skills within three generations” … I was born in the streets, I don’t even know who my grandmother was.

Vendor I: And the records aren’t the hard part to get around. If you’re applying in Vienna, the license has to be issued by the central government.

Vendor I: It’s not an Austrian problem, nor a Hungarian problem. The central government sits in the middle … and no official has any idea of what’s what─should this be the Kaiser’s concern? Or the Konig’s? Or both?

Vendor I: You’d be the biggest fool to listen and follow these broken rules! Stuck in the system, nowhere to go … unless you work the magic of krones …

Marcus: … What happens if we don’t have an arcanum license?

Vendor I: Oh, you’ll love this.

Vendor I: Who knows? You could get 3 days in detention, or maybe 10 years in prison. Even if you are sentenced to prison, they might forget to bring you in.

Vendor I: Or, if you’re an outstanding citizen who can shed your arcanum during your human re-education, you might get to have a nice life─without a license that is. Our justice system is much more unpredictable than the arcanists. We still have a fair chance of getting away!

Kakania: Very informative, Illich.

Kakania clears her throat, still somewhat guarded, and flashes out a meaningful glance.

Vendor I: Oh, well then … See you, Kakania and Ms. Foundation. Forget I said anything!

Marcus: They are …?

Kakania: Some arcanist kids on the streets. I’m surprised you know nothing about them. The country has changed, lady, and not everything in Vienna is as decent and sumptuous as the buildings on the Ring Road and Herrengasse.

Her tone belies a hint of sarcasm.

Kakania: I’m thankful for your help, Ms. Foundation, but so far I have returned the favor─you don’t want the guards either, do you? We’re even.

Kakania: So can you tell me why you’re here?

Kakania: Oh, I see. Mr. Karl sent you, didn’t he? Because I don’t have a psychiatrist’s license. Can’t you people give me a break? I swear on my ancestors, I’m doing this entirely the arcanist way. It has nothing to do with human science!

She poses a question but leaves no room for an answer. Leaning closer to Marcus, she pushes her glasses up with suspicion.

Kakania: Don’t you people ever sleep? Do you not have a life? This is the tenth time this month, even God rests after working six days in a row!

Kakania: I have an arcanum license inherited from my family, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. My fees are reasonable, no one’s ever complained …

Marcus: No, um, Ms. Kakania, this is really coincidental … I … Err … I just happened to know that you are a psychiatrist …

Kakania: Hm? So? Are psychiatrists considered doctors now?

Maintaining her barriers of politeness against the rapid topic changes feels like holding a smile in a hailstorm. On the verge of tears, Marcus desperately falls back to the Field Mission Manual.

Marcus: I think there’s been a misunderstanding. We-I’m not here to check your credentials.

Kakania: Then what?

Marcus: So, you call yourself Kakania, but I know your first name is Klara …

Kakania: Oh, I didn’t know the Foundation staff read my work. How very flattering!

Kakania: Yes, I’m Klara. But Ms. Foundation, don’t you think Kakania is an intriguing name? Heinrich─who is a friend of mine─gave me a book which greatly inspired me.

Marcus: …!

Kakania: Our country is just like that name. It both is, and isn’t; it both has, and has not. If you look for it, it can’t be found. Yet if you stop looking, it’s everywhere.

Kakania:Look at this country, my friend! The sumptuous buildings rise so high …

Kakania:that the people in power never have to lay eyes on the rye farmers of Bohemia, the immigrants from the east coast of the Adriatic Sea, or on the arcanists!

Kakania:How could there possibly be smog choking the industrial area? How could there possibly be cold houses in the winter? The coffee house is definitely filled with people who love to dance, and not with those who can’t afford the heat, oh no.

Kakania:Surely there’s no bureaucracy, no discrimination, no poverty here. This is a city of humanism and freedom, oh yes.

Kakania: Kakania … "kaiserlich-königlich," or “kaiserlich und königlich," and … “Caca-nia,” the s**tland! Hahaha, there’s no better name for this country!

Marcus: So then, you did get that book, from a friend …

Marcus: …

Marcus: Now’s my chance. I still have one “Spider Tail” Madam Hofmann left me. If I can find a chance to leave the Spider Tail on her … Or in her place …

The young assistant takes a deep breath.

Marcus: I … I’m intrigued by the book. Can I see it?

…

[Cemetery]

???: This concludes the report by Semmelweis of the Field Agent Administration. Please confirm, Madam Hofmann.

In the corner, Hofmann holds her communicator out with brow furrowed.

Hofmann: Yes, report received.

???: Haha, why so serious, Greta? That was just routine.

Hofmann: And I envy your lightheartedness and optimism. They got you out of Vienna on such short notice, I can only imagine that it must have been difficult for you as well.

Hofmann: According to your intel, the Empire’s had too many assassinations in a short period of time This is not good for the Critical Point, Semmelweis.

Semmelweis: At least try to stay in a good mood. What else can we do?

Semmelweis: Aside from that, Greta, I have more to tell you. I was pulled out of Vienna overnight and I didn’t have time to brief the new squad there. You know, it takes ages to get through the briefing process. I might as well just tell you now, personally.

Semmelweis: There could be an arcanist who has crossed the “Storm,” and is now in Vienna.

Hofmann: What did you say? Do we know more about this arcanist?

Semmelweis: We only know his name is Heinrich. We learned about this from the Berlin squad when we met up here, but had no time to verify.

Hofmann: I see. Leave the rest to us.

Semmelweis: If true, he traveled to Berlin during the sixth “Storm” and survived the 1913 “Storm” there. And after the 1966 “Storm,” and the one in 1929 …

Hofmann: And now it’s 1913 for the second time. For all the arcanists who crossed the sixth “Storm,” this is exciting news.

Semmelweis: Hmph. Their time has returned.

Hofmann: I understand the excitement, but perhaps time, in its chaotic fashion, has inadvertently returned to the same year. I hear you, Semmelweis. This is valuable information, I’ll let the …

Hofmann: …!

Semmelweis: Greta? Are you still there?

Hofmann: Sorry, I have to go …

Hofmann: Something’s wrong with the “Spider Tail” I left on Marcus. This is not her ritual … Something’s happened.

…

Kakania: I’m surprised, Ms. Marcus, you know so much about this era!

Kakania: I thought the Foundation was nothing but bureaucrats and bookworms. Oh, have you been to the Secession Building? Did you like it? Shame that book isn’t there.

Kakania finally finds the key.

…

[Clinic]

Kakania: Please, come in! Forgive the mess. I must say that it is at least more orderly than the administration of the Empire.

Marcus: Than-thank you.

The room resembles a studio more so than a clinic. The scene is scattered about with unfinished paintings, dried paints, stage props, and posters.

And mirrors. Many, many mirrors.

Kakania: These are stage props, Heinrich left them here. He certainly learned some useful things in Berlin.

Kakania: Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you some tea, and look for the book.

Marcus: Please don’t bother, Ms. Kakania! I won’t stay long, I have to go back to the branch soon. I just need to confirm that you have the book with you …

Marcus: Ooh!

The clinic’s curtains are tightly drawn, blocking out the day, yet her mirrors flash with light for a second.

Marcus: Is this … Kakania’s arcane skill?

…

Marcus quickly covers her eyes with her hands, stepping backward toward the door. Kakania’s cheerful voice rings from the other side.

Kakania: Ms. Foundation, it’s okay! Just a little trick I use to ensure my personal safety. I usually even charge for this!

Kakania: “Look into the mirror, which reflects your inner world” … This trick has been used by arcanists for thousands of years. When it was first used, the Roman Emperors still ruled this land.

Kakania: Speaking of which, Ms. Foundation … How did you know that the pistol was tampered with? Your arcane skill?

…

Though it might only be some sort of trick of psychology─the mirror’s glare becomes increasingly blinding.

Marcus: … Um, don’t look at the mirror!

The investigator braces herself as she grips the lamp, ready for combat at a moment’s notice. Kakania’s tone remains gentle, as if soothing one of her patients.

Kakania: I am curious. No need to be alarmed─I’ll treat you gently.

6TH - 09 | Between the Doors

Marcus: Phew. The reflections she created were real enough, but not perfect. The reflections had neither shadows nor breath. Most importantly, they didn’t have her passion and subtle movements.

Marcus: I *read* the truth from these details … She meant me no harm. Maybe it was just a little trick she was playing.

Marcus: But, I …

She steadies her breath, looking down at the figure on the ground. She inadvertently used too much force. Kakania is still on the ground, supporting her hat with one hand. Her lips tremble incredulously, shocked by her own failure.

Kakania: This is … That was …

She lunges toward Marcus, who reflexively withdraws her hand.

Kakania: I knew it! Your arcane skill is incredibly unique, you can discover what’s on the inside by observing what’s on the outside.

Kakania: You are born to be a psychiatrist!

Marcus: Huh?

She clings tightly to Marcus’s hand, as if she’s found a long-lost relative.

Kakania: Look at you, you are so tiny, and they gave you this big coat. How can they do this to a child?! How about you quit the Foundation and be my assistant? Your perception would be invaluable in this line of work. After all, we search for truth from froggy memories and vague descriptions for a living …

Marcus: Ah, Miss … the book …

Marcus attempts to withdraw her hand, politely but stiffly. Kakania’s enthusiasm remains unchanged.

Kakania: Forget the book! A new academic field is opening its doors to you! Let’s go inside. Oh dear, I forgot your tea!

Marcus: Gosh, she’s babbling like a parrot.

Marcus: Ah …! It’s Madam Hofmann!

Marcus: Ma’am.

Hofmann: Marcus, the “Spider Tail” has shown me your direction. How did you get that far? What is that place? An arcane fluctuation?!

Marcus: I’m with the targe- … Ms. Kakania. In her clinic. I’m safe, the investigation’s going well! Ma’am!

Hofmann: …

Hofmann: Stay where you are, I’m on my way! And take care of yourself, you hear me?

Marcus: Erm, yes, ma’am …

Kakania: Was that your supervisor? She sounds rather harsh. I do have to question the Foundation, hiring underage children and all …

Marcus: … Just in time!

Marcus glances at the doctor, who is now lost in thought, lightly flicking her skirt. An almost invisible thread lands on the green fabric.

Marcus: Well, actually, Madam Hofmann is … very kind to me.

She lifts her head, trying to further divert the doctor’s attention. Kakania remains unimpressed by her answer.

Kakania: Well, you have seen it all for yourself. Me, my clinic, my arcane skill─I showed you everything. Have they cleared up your doubts, Ms. Marcus?

Marcus: Just one more question.

Kakania: Please go ahead.

Marcus: About … “The Circle.”

Kakania: Eh? Did you go through all this trouble just for that?

Kakania dramatically raises her hand, settling down into her soft chair.

Kakania: You could have asked me earlier. I am the founder of “The Circle.”

Marcus: Wh-what?!

Marcus early scalds herself with the hot tea as she brings it up to her lips.

Kakania: You’re awfully excited. Are you an admirer? Joking. It’s just a little group a couple of friends started out of interest. Completely legal, nothing nefarious.

Kakania: We’re committed to changing the arcanists’ current situation … more committed than the Foundation. There will be a non-profit exhibit soon, and all donations will help lower class arcanists get their license, which should have been your responsibility!

Her words are sharply pointed, only to stop abruptly as she recalls the identity of her target.

Kakania: Oh, sorry, I got carried away. I should persuade you to join us, not attack your current job.

Marcus shakes her head, feeling all-together fortunate now to not be involved in the disputes of this era.

Marcus: And the painting in this exhibit … will be The Salvation?

Kakania: That’s right, you’ve been to the Secession Building, and that’s a masterpiece which will be hard to miss. That was Theophil’s final piece of work, the Golden Isle being its subject.

She lowers her head a little while refilling her cup with fresh tea.

Kakania: It was big news at the time …

Kakania: The island hidden from all people in the Aegean Sea, the ancient arcanist settlement, the strange current and magnetic field around it, the animals only heard in stories, and the shadow of modern society cast upon it …

Kakania: Well, those are just hearsay. People have all kinds of speculations about it … A military base, a mythical kingdom, the apocalypse …

Kakania: The Foundation knows it better than any of us.

*clink*

Kakania sets down the teacup, her focus calm but impassioned.

Kakania: Ms. Marcus, I’ve told you everything I know. If you trust me, please tell me one thing.

Marcus: I’m sorry, Ms. Kakania, I can’t …

Kakania: Are there really our people on that island? If so, how did they protect themselves in these changing times? This is my only question. As an arcanist, and as a human being.

Marcus: …!

Kakania: The arms companies are turning the Balkan Peninsula into a proving ground for their new weapons─that was how they discovered this island.

Kakania: You work for the authorities. You must know something. Please, I just want to know if …

Kakania: If there’s any more of us in this world, suffering, silenced, and helpless.

Marcus: …

Kakania: …

Kakania’s passion dims over the prolonged silence.

Kakania Fine. You work for the Foundation, after all. I shouldn’t have asked.

Kakania: It’s just that I’m hoping for at least one rational person in such an irredeemable bureaucracy. Someone who doesn’t think it’s just a bunch of deranged lunatics over there.

Kakania: … Which is a stigma the arcanists have carried around for centuries.

Marcus: … No, we are not crazy!

Kakania: …!

She clenches the fabric of her dress, lifting her head in a trembling outburst.

Marcus: I, I don’t think the arcanists on the island are crazy either!

Kakania: Ms. Marcus?

Marcus: Dr. Kakania, I know there has been discord and resentment between humans and arcanists, but not everyone is like Mr. Karl.

Marcus: We’re from the headquarters, where many like you are fighting for the rights of arcanists. When it comes to caring for our people, we’re not so different there. That was what the Foundation was for. To defend the interests of the arcanists, and to keep the world safe and orderly. Till this day, we continue to strive for this goal.

Her heart thumps hard in her chest. She shouldn’t do this … but, but, she can't ignore the question any longer either.

Perhaps it’s worth it! Her “reading” tells her that this is a worthwhile ally. They have had no fundamental disagreements between one another. Just this once insignificant piece of information … if it might bridge the gap in their positions …

Time stretches on.

Kakania: …

Kakania: My sympathies for all that is happening.

Marcus: Erm?!

Marcus receives another embrace.

Kakania: We could’ve been very good friends, if you weren’t working for the Foundation. I know you meant every word you said, I can see how you burned with passion. “The Circle” was founded for the same reason. But I will not change my view on certain things.

Marcus: Ah …

Kakania: But on second thought, I have friends working in all kinds of places … We have a big house, plenty of wine and refreshments, there is more than enough room for a new friend.

Kakania: I would like to invite you to the Secession Building and to be present at the opening of the exhibit, Ms. Marcus. And we can talk more about what you said afterwards.

Marcus: That’d be great! But … my ment- … um, my supervisor …

Kakania: Hmm, that is tricky. But a minor like you requires the presence of a guardian, and you told me that she’s “kind” to you …

Kakania: Well, she can come with you. We must abide by the law, after all. It might help to clear up misunderstandings if she’s there.

A hug comes once again.

Kakania: Alright, I have to inform Heinrich that we have two more guests coming …

Kakania: Oh, shoot!

Kakania: I have an appointment today! I almost forgot the time. I have to go. I know what you’re going to ask, but patient information is confidential!

Kakania idly wags her finger. Her thoughts seem to have drifted on to future treatments.She hastily caps her pen, handling the invitation to Marcus.

Kakania: I shouldn’t keep you any longer. See you soon, Ms. Foundation!

Kakania: Welcome to “The Circle!”

A gentle knock sounds at the door.

Marcus: Oh, I, I should go … Thank you, Ms. Kakania.

She turns and hurries away, the door opening just in time.

Isolde: …?

Marcus doesn’t stop, nodding and gliding around the newcomer in a fast, fluid motion.

Isolde: …

6TH - 10 | The Mind's Endoscope

Two invitations, from the founder of “The Circle,” no less. A precious opportunity─a rare and precious clue to the goings-on here.

Hofmann caresses the edges, sinking into a long silence. The obedient assistant looks off into the far distance, awaiting the impending storm.

…

Hoffman: … You know what happened. But under the Foundation’s regulations, I must reiterate that the primary subject of this investigation has been changed to Heinrich.

Hoffman: These two invitations are very useful. I’ll tell the Field Agent Squad to act tomorrow night. Once Heinrich’s identity is verified, we will detain him in the exhibit.

Hoffman: But I must remind you, Marcus. What you did today was a serious violation of the Field Mission Manual. And I have to report this to the headquarters. That island is not of this era. Everything about it is strictly confidential. You have crossed a line.

The mentor’s tone was of a stern reproach. Not so inconsequential anymore.

Marcus: … Understood …

Marcus’s complexion turns deathly pale. Her mouth hangs open to speak several times but fails to make a sound. If not for the wall, she might have fallen over.

Hofmann: I know what you’re thinking. We need to get closer to this group. You might think that their ideas are closer to those of the headquarter, and therefore easier to work with compared to the Vienna branch.

Marcus: Umm …?!

Marcus finds herself surprised by her stay of execution.

Hofmann: You must know that Kakania is not our only source of information.

Hofmann turns away, intentionally avoiding the overeager eyes of her apprentice.

Hofmann: On the other hand, Karl has given us a list. In principle, everyone on this list is useful. On the other hand, the branch has its own connections too. More importantly, it takes more than a conversation over tea to get people on the same side of a conflict.

The experienced investigator sighs, rubbing her forehead.

Hofmann: I’m worried you are not ready for this, Marcus. There is too much wickedness out there dressed in the skin of kindness. The most horrible atrocities are always committed for the most seemingly justified reasons. Even at the headquarters, people are mired in power struggles and compromises.

Marcus: …

Marcus: Sorry, ma’am, I was naive …

Hofmann: It’ll be the Foundation’s judgment call. If the information you’ve gathered outweighs the risks, you may be treated leniently.

Hofmann: Marcus, look at the street.

The Ring Road has a feeling of tranquility despite the evening bustle.

Hofmann: You’re not the only one who wants to contribute to this place and its people. We come for peace, and many before us have tried to prevent foreseeable tragedies, only to cause greater tragedies. The rules are there for a reason. Nothing in the manual was written out of imagination. Every one of them came from a mistake of the past.

Hofmann: We are only here to observe.

Many well-dressed citizens pass by, enjoying their sunset strolls.

Marcus: …

Hofmann: This is Vienna in 1914. The birthplace of an enduring war and chaos, the Critical Point.

Hofmann: It is a powder keg, and the slightest spark will set it off. Any action we take could have unfathomable consequences. That’s why we advise extreme caution. This is our responsibility to this era.

Marcus follows her mentor’s hand, gazing into the distance. For the first time, she scrutinizes the city ahead of her in detail. Here, countless lives, possibilities, and thoughts new and old collide …

Would all this end in an instant beneath a curtain of rain?

Marcus: …

Marcus nods, searching out a word of affirmation.

Marcus: … I understand completely, Madam Hofmann. I won’t make the same mistake again.

…

Away from the Ring Road, others continue on their life’s trajectory.

…

In Kakania’s clinic, a slightly unorthodox treatment is about to begin.

Isolde: …

Kakania: Isolde? You look sad and pale, what happened? Did something happen in the troupe? Or did those dreadful officials come back?

Isolde: No. I’m just … a bit worried. You … you entered a duel for my sake. Dear lord, the thought of you getting hurt breaks my heart.

Kakania: Did Heinrich tell you that? He needs to keep his mouth shut.

Kakania: Don’t worry about me, Isolde. I fought for the ethics of the profession, and I’m ready to bear the consequences of my actions. That scum sold the secrets of hypnosis to the military. It’s a treatment, not a means of interrogation!

Kakania: In the end, all is well! The duel didn’t happen, and I’m here, unharmed. All thanks to that young missy from the Foundation.

Isolde: That young missy from the Foundation … The lady who just left? I bumped into her at the door.

Kakania: So you’ve seen her.

Isolde: She was at the Secession Building. You weren’t there.

Isolde: Did she give you any trouble? You told me that the Foundation was after you for a while because you didn’t have a license. I can help you, doctor. I can ask Mr. Karl to …

Kakania: Eh? No need for that. We only just became friends.

Isolde: Friends? You told me to stay away from the Foundation staff, but now you’re making friends with them …

Kakania: Oh, she’s different, dear Isolde! We met by chance. I gave her an invitation to the exhibit, so you’ll see her there. I think you two will become fast friends.

Kakania: It would take all day to tell you everything. You’re here for treatment. Let’s not waste time on unimportant things.

Isolde: Unimportant? Alright …

Isolde: …

Kakania coughs, trying to revert to her more professional guise.

Kakania: You’re a personal friend, Isolde, so I didn’t want to give you therapy in the first place …

Isolde: Be-because I’m not good enough, or sick enough, to be your patient?

Kakania: No no no, because I’m not good enough. I wasn’t properly trained, I don’t have a medical license, or a degree! This is the cold, hard truth, and you’re too important a friend to me.

Kakania: But I can no longer watch you suffer from horrible treatments those quacks gave you. I may not have a license, but I have the knowledge and ethics that they don’t. I never overcharge my treatment, nor sell unnecessary things to the patient, and I will never experiment on my patients!

Isolde: Heh heh.

Kakania: Your smile. So you agree with what I said about those psychiatrists and doctors!

Kakania: Okay, then let’s get to it!

…

Kakania spins her pen in an excited twirl, flipping open her treatment book.

Kakania: Dr. Sigmund Freud wrote that repression of desires is one of the primary causes of hysteria.

Kakania: You need to release these desires. I’ll guide your memory to find the deeply hidden thoughts. Trust me and tell me everything during the sessions.

Kakania: You’ll suffer less from the repression, and your physical ailments, fainting and convulsions, will become less severe.

Kakania: Cast off your shackles and trust in me. This first step is crucial.

Kakania: I know tragedies in your family have affected you deeply. But I’m here to help you now.

Kakania: If you have trouble putting thoughts into words, use this mirror. It reflects your inner thoughts, like a mind’s endoscope. I cast an arcane skill on it to help your thoughts surface. Look at it, and tell me what you see.

Isolde: My inner thoughts …

Kakania: Yes, I won’t hypnotize you, nor will I turn around and peek at the mirror. What’s in there belongs to only you, we’re just going to talk.

Hypnosis is a therapy I most detest. It doesn’t help you understand and rediscover yourself. And if the dialogue isn’t based on the full awareness and consent of both parties, it’s pointless.

Isolde: I see. I will do my best.

Kakania: Do your best? Hah, relax, you’re not on the job. Just turn around, look in the mirror, and tell me …

Kakania: What do you see?

Isolde: Uhm …

Isolde: I see … golden circles …

Isolde: Theophil in his study, on his feet, his hand gesturing intensely in the air …

…

Isolde: Ah, yes, I’m there too. I’m …

…

Isolde: …?

Her voice becomes strange and sharp.

Isolde: Odd. Why am I not here?

Isolde: Doctor, is your mirror not working? It’s not showing my reflection. No, no, this isn’t right, I promised to do my best …

Isolde: I was there, I must have been. I have to remember it. You prepared all of this for my sake, I mustn’t disappoint you …

Kakania: Oh no, she’s stuck in her obsessive thoughts! Isolde, please sit down and listen to my voice.

The actress, ignoring her doctor’s warnings, forcefully grips the edge of the mirror.

Isolde: Who am I? Where am I?

Isolde: Hello, is anybody there? Who is me? I am who? Greetings. Hello?

The candles go out, and the room fills with an inexplicable breeze. An incorporeal voice responds to her inquiry, invited in from the void.

Kakania: The lost ghosts. The last time in the Secession Building … Now I understand. I have to get her to stop relying so much on her arcane power. Luckily, not completing my education is why I know a little bit of everything.

The doctor rushes to the full-sized mirror in the workshop, removing the gray cloths one by one.

Isolde: What are you doing, doctor? Is the secession over? Was it because I did something wrong? Did I mess up?

Kakania: Nonsense, you were doing great! I just have to clean the room a bit.

A more intense flash fills the clinic, dispelling the damp and resentful darkness.

Kakania: Shoo, go away! Mirrors are useless to ghosts! Leave my patient alone, and never come back!

6TH - 11 | One-Act Play

Kakania: Feeling better now? Is anything still haunting you, talking to you?

Kakania: Do you remember who you are, Isolde?

The clinic returns to silence as Kakania holds Isolde’s hand, observing with concern the pale actress before her. She looks toward the tabletop mirror, allowing tears to fall from her hollow eyes.

Isolde: Oh, yes, doctor. I see it now.

Isolde: That fire, the fire that devoured everything! How could I ever forget? The raging fire consumed everything, including Theophil. He was screaming─his mind was already gone before he ignited it all.

Isolde: How could he ignore everything with such disregard? Who allowed him to forget with such disregard?

Isolde: While I remember, I remember it all. I’m from a noble family, I need to be a qualified Dittarsdorf, an outstanding arcanist, a first-rage opera singer, a good sister, and a good daughter … Never forget my manners, never forget the family!

Isolde: But he─he got away with it! If Theophil was truly a man of courage, he should’ve joined the army, or fought a duel with someone─that would’ve made his death more honorable!

Isolde: Yet, he chose to die this way, after a little debauchery.

She breathes a heavy and bitter sigh, and finally, color returns to her face.

Isolde: *sobs* I’m sorry … I shouldn’t have told you that.

Kakania: It’s okay, Isolde, you’re doing it right. That’s what therapy is for.

Kakania: These memories are exactly what we need. What’s been deliberately repressed and ignored in the depths of your heart will manifest into words, and help you reconnect with your emotions. Soon your symptoms of hysteria will diminish!

Kakania: Don’t be afraid. You can talk to me about anything. In the name of my family and the Hippocratic Oath, I will keep things between you and me.

Everything will be a secret, our secret.

Isolde: Our secret …

The woman’s cheeks, still wet with tears, reveal a tragic smile, like dew on rose petals.

Isolde: Sounds wonderful.

Isolde: …

…

She closes her eyes, striving in that moment to open them without being free from the fog of the past.

Isolde: I remember that room.

…

Isolde: The room was excessively bright. I never got used to light bulbs, preferring the softer light of candles. My mother always had a white candle burning when she saw me at bedtime.

Kakania: What happened to that candle?

Isolde: Someone knocked it over. Ha! That naughty brat, my dark-haired brother!

Isolde: He lit the candle, set the room on fire, and burned all his paintings!

Isolde: He ran to me, his body burning! In his hand was …

Isolde: A gun.

Isolde: I once told Theophil, he’s not a genius like Weininger. Biting the bullet won’t make him famous. Only a debut leaves an impression, the shows that follow are boring repetitions.

Isolde: He laughed. “Indeed. Too many have shot themselves for fame. Only through passionate life would the world remember me.”

Isolde: I bid him farewell, and went downstairs to talk to the ladies. Blood soaked the wooden floor and dripped into my cup. Plop, plop, plop. I went upstairs and found Theophil lying in a pool of blood. A revolver was in his hand. Ah, how its cylinder clicked like music.

Isolde: I lifted my dress so the fire could roll down like water. I leaned over to the hole on his left temple and said, “Theophil, where is your fire?”

Isolde: Theophil sat up, and said, “Isolde, where’s your gun?”

Kakania: “Your gun?”

…

Isolde: … My gun?

Her voice trailed out into a low sinister growl. Isolde swoons toward her reflection in the mirror, her hand raised high as if delivering a monologue on stage.

…

Isolde: My gun! I remember now, I was holding the gun all along!

Isolde: Theophil stood in the study. The flames engulfed the beam, the ceiling, everything.

Kakania: What?!

Kakania speaks as softly as possible despite her shock, with the intent not to disturb the woman’s soliloquy.

Isolde: He ran toward me, screaming in pain. He was burning, the heat drying up my eyes …

The woman begins to shake under the weight of revelation.

Isolde: He was on fire, and running towards me. Doctor, he ran at me!

She clenches her teeth, trying to squeeze out words, gripping her chest as if to squeeze out her insides─to open herself like a finely crafted wooden box, offering herself to her rescuer.

Kakania: Breathe in, breathe out … It’s okay, Isolde. I’m here by your side. You’re safe.

Kakania extends her arms, gently encircling the woman into her embrace. She breathes deeply, calming down inside the green warmth.

Isolde: And then, I heard a shot.

…

Kakania: ...

Their embrace tightens slightly.

Isolde: I-I can’t remember … The trigger was hard to pull. After the shot, it slipped out of my hand …

…

She lifts her head up towards the good doctor, tears flowing from her eyes.

Kakania: …

Isolde: I killed Theophil! It was me!

Isolde: I don’t deserve the right to attend his funeral, or to hold his memorial art exhibit. I don’t deserve any of the empathy and kindness …

Isolde: I should have burned in that fire, I should have died! *sobbing*

Kakania: It’s fine.

Isolde: …?

Kakania: I’m neither judge nor police, Isolde. I’m just your doctor. I’ll remain faithful to you, no matter what you think you are.

Kakania: Your life was in danger. Anyone would’ve done the same.

Kakania: It was not your fault, Isolde. You were just … terrified.

Kakania: Don’t be ashamed of your instinctive behavior. Rest assured, your secret is safe with me.

Kakania: According to Dr. Freud, embracing your darkness is the first step to liberation. It takes courage, and is not easy to do. Most people can’t do it, but you’ve done a very good job.

Isolde: …

Isolde: I did a good job?

Kakania: Yes. An excellent job.

Isolde: Doctor …

Her tears now are like a broken dam, relieved of the burden that it had too long held. Kakania holds her gently, waiting for her long-overdue catharsis to come to an end.

…

Kakania: Alright, this is as far as I can walk you. You have to host the ceremony tomorrow, and Tosca’s next week. Vienna won’t forgive me if I take up too much of your time.

Isolde: Don’t worry about it. Like you said, the night breeze will do me some good.

She still cleaves hard to Kakania’s arm, imperceptibly shaking her head. As twilight falls, few passerby notice the distinguished opera singer among them.

Kakania: I heard from Heinrich that you’re trying new things? I read his stage design. The style of Berlin expressionism he adopted is quite refreshing. I have to admit, he became a little strange after his trip to Berlin. But his passion for art didn’t change, nor did his love for his fellow Viennese.

Isolde: I appreciate his hard work as well. But sadly, the Vienna Court Opera didn’t approve our performance application, so we turned to the Vienna People’s Opera.

Kakania: Well, I’m not surprised. Understand that Mr. Mahler is the artistic director of the Vienna Court Opera, and even he could not bring Salome to the stage.

Kakania: Those boring, stale old-timers will never approve of new forms of art. They always expect something predictable and unvarying, the same old pieces and settings.

Isolde: …

Her complexion darkens again as she turns her head.

Isolde: I’m the reason Tosca can’t get the permission.

Isolde: Because I, the star, am a medium, a maniacal “arcanist.”

Kakania: Oh, no, that’s not it. In Vienna, the great composers, conductors, and performers … almost all of them have been arcanists.

Kakania: Wiping out the unique talents of arcanists and their artistic contributions would be like setting fire to the cultural tapestry of Viennese society!

Kakania: Oh, sorry. A flood! A flood is better …

The actress is, or at least acts, oblivious to this minor slip.

Isolde: They consider it a desecration of the stage. When a singer is channeling, she’s essentially asking a spirit to possess her and speak directly through her, thus she “becomes” the character in the opera …

Isolde: People will question the authenticity of the voice─is this still the singer’s own voice? Or is it fraud?

Kakania: No, Isolde. They think that, because they know nothing about performance, not even the slightest thing.

Kakania: The nature of the stage is to be someone else. If they’re so intent on the presentation of the true self, the mirrors in my clinic would like a word with them.

Kakania: It is an actor’s job to become another person. On stage, in a fictional world, they briefly trick our eyes into thinking it’s real. And to achieve that, we rehearse rigorously, through sweat and pain. We take care of the music, the costumes, the settings, the lights …

Your gift helps you do this better than others. That’s all.

Isolde: …

Isolde: But I used the arcane skills of the Dittarsdorf family. I couldn’t have done these things without them. What if an arcanist’s talent for art is also a curse?

Isolde: Maybe I’m just a fraud, doctor. I’m propped up by my illness, and once it’s cured, my talent will be gone with it …

Kakania pauses abruptly.

She turns back, looking at an operatic genius tormented by her own talents.

…

Kakania: It’s not like that, Isolde. Using your talents is not cheating.

Kakania: We’re “arcanists.” But before we allow ourselves to be defined by that word, who are we really?

Kakania: If an “arcanist” grew up on a lonely island, she wouldn’t see herself as an “arcanist,” but as a “person” like you, like me, like everyone.

Isolde: Doctor …

Isolde meets her gaze as the stars twinkle back in Kakania’s eyes.

Kakania: But you know, the truth is, when I look at a crowd, I don’t see any “arcanists”!

Kakania: All I see is our people, with different talents, trapped in life, their selfhoods ground smooth until they’re undistinguishable from the crowd.

Kakania: Humans celebrate their flaws, yet they persecute our gifts. They control the narrative. They define our gifts as disease, our talents as weaknesses, and our bloodlines as curses. If we’re cured, we’re just another face in the crowd. But if we live on with our “diseases.” we’re forever ill, forever afflicted.

Kakania: We arcanists have to live in such a world, where we survive through suffering.

Isolde: …

Kakania: Look at this city, this most enlightened, tolerant city. Under the sweet surface of the Sachetorte lies powder and poisonous wine.

Kakania: Arcanists are recognized for their artistic abilities, nothing more. We hold no parliamentary seats, no professional titles, and no professional credentials. We are exiled and marginalized. Our only voice in the culture is to be decoration, because decoration impacts nothing.

Kakania: The restrictions and discrimination against arcanists are worsening by the day. First we had to register with the government, then we needed residence permits, and now, permission to cast arcane skills.

Kakania: And we can do nothing but tolerate, stay polite and dignified. Be a “good” arcanist, show no signs of “instability,” because we’re supposed to stay rational, otherwise, we’re animals.

Kakania: But people are complicated, they can’t stay rational forever─as Dr. Freud said, we’re just seeing the tip of the iceberg.

As the streetlights come on, Kakania looks up, now resembling an actress mid-monologue beneath the stark light.

Kakania: You might be sick, I might be too. But the truth is, this whole society is sick! You can’t just treat the individual and ignore the bigger picture.

Kakania: It was the repression of irrational desires that allowed the disease to spread in our time.

Kakania: In this case, the people on that island are much freer than we are!

Isolde: You mean that mysterious island? I hear gold is in the ground here.

Kakania nods with vigor.

Kakania: Remember the lady from the Foundation?

Isolde: Yes. Why?

Kakania: She said the arcanists on that island are not lunatics, and they’re living a life free of restrictions. Doesn’t that sound great? If we could form our own society, like those artistic associations, and have control over our own production and labor.

Kakania: This must’ve been some kind of enlightenment. I can almost see it, they’ll show us another way of life, a kingdom free of repression.

Kakania: To help them is to help ourselves. And that’s also what your exhibit is about.

Isolde: Me? No, I’m not as great a person as you.

Kakania: But you are working for a great cause.

…

The stars in her eyes begin to spread out. Kakania reveals a deep and tender smile.

Kakania: Isolde, my friend. I’ve shared my dream with you, and I hope one day it’ll become your own, until the day when everyone shares the same dream.

Kakania: Our society needs a revolution, a radical surgery.

Kakania: We urgently need a new vision to reunite us at the dawn of the new century. Like the secession in art history, we need a secession of arcanum to distinguish us from “hysterical lunatics,” “street peddlers,” and “con artists.”

Kakania: We need a new dream, a new saga. We need to reinvent ourselves and become a new people.

Kakania: No more repression, only the full embrace of our primal desires.

…

Kakania concludes her monologue, removing her hat to fastidiously straighten the feathers on top.

…

Kakania: That’s why your work has not been in vain! From Theophil’s art exhibition to the promotion of new art …

Kakania: Do not doubt yourself. You’re helping a great cause.

Isolde: …

Isolde: Thank you, doctor. This is the first time anyone’s said that to me. I will bear that in mind

Isolde: … Your words in the breeze of night have been stirring. Can you walk with me a little longer? I’d like to hear more things about the secession you mentioned, so that I can prepare my speech for tomorrow’s ceremony …

Kakania: Yes. It is my pleasure.

Kakania: Would you like a walk to the Vienna People’s Opera? I think they put up new posters.

6TH - 12 | Art Exhibit

From a higher vantage, the view is much improved.

Marcus: Reporter of New Free Press, editor-in-chief of the Pan ... The founder of The Torch …

Marcus: Oh, that's Egon Erwin Kisch! The reporter who uncovered the scandal surrounding Colonel Alfred Redl ... I had investigated this before …

Marcus: Adolf Loos, the architect! He designed the Steiner House, as I recall. That's Major Maximilian Ronge and his wife ... who knew that celebrities like them would visit this exhibition.

Marcus: But they look different from the pictures in the papers ... They were younger, and less chubby. Has my memory failed me? Or is it because photography is also an art of beautification?

Marcus: Mr. Karl was right. People are flocking to the Secession Building to get a glimpse of the new art.

Hofmann: I can't appreciate these things at all.

Hofmann comments from her typical cold objectivity.

Hofmann: I've informed the Field Agent Squad, as soon as Heinrich shows up, we'll get him under control.

Hofmann: Ideally, we will take him away for "illegal use of arcane skills." It is the best reason and the least risk. It also complies with the laws of this time. If Manus Vindictae is behind all this, they'll show themselves for sure.

Hofmann: The squad will assist us from the perimeter by then. Marcus, your mission is to watch everything closely. Heinrich could be disguised and hiding in the crowd. Also keep an eye on the Manus and their rituals-that's what we were originally here for.

Marcus: Leave it to me! I won't miss a thing.

Marcus takes a deep breath, seeking a clear moment before diving.

A starburst of information floods into Marcus's eyes, reeling across her mind with a thousand pages at once. The world has always been a book to her.

Marcus: Mr. Thomas, the representative, is talking to the ladies about expressionism. His parents did not foresee the success of Impressionism─the works that made no sense but became priceless on the market.

Marcus: That's why his generation over-corrects their aesthetic standards and pays compliments to any art they don't understand.

Marcus: The reporter for the New Free Press and that major are discussing the frequent suicides in Vienna … They've written articles about it, and many of them attribute it to the publication of The Sorrows of Young Werther.

Marcus: Kakania is describing the founding idea of "The Circle." "This is the first magic circle drawn by the primitive man!" Hmm, quite the strong woman …

Marcus: The military exercise in Bosnia and Herzegovina this spring ... General Conrad to lose power ... A low pressure trough on the Atlantic Ocean... Ivory-colored paper for official use only …

Marcus: The general... Wife of a cabinet member... Quartz sand ... Is arcanum a bacterial infection ... Is psychoanalysis a new type of mental illness…

Marcus: Mr. Heinrich is not here. Nothing useful on this page.

…

Isolde: …

Marcus: Ah, Ms. Isolde again. She's the host of the exhibition. She seems... healthier than the last time we met.

Marcus: I don't know why, but I'm happy for her.

Marcus: She's about to make a speech.

Isolde: It is my honor to host this exhibition. Before we begin, I'd like to express my gratitude for Mr. Heinrich, who is Theophil's friend and the curator of this exhibition.

Marcus: Heinrich still hasn't shown up. Did he notice something?

Isolde: And also a friend of mine, the founder of "The Circle"─Ms. Klara! Without her tireless work behind the scenes, we wouldn't be here today. Born into a rising arcane family of the middle class, Ms. Klara is a devoted doctor and an art connoisseur with impeccable taste.

Isolde makes for a dramatic introduction, reaching out towards the audience below.

…

Kakania: Ugh!

Marcus: Dr. Kakania is standing up, greeting the guests. That's an awkward smile. Looks like she didn't see this coming.

Isolde: Hmm, Ms. Isolde is giving her an encouraging look. She wants to introduce her friend to the celebrities? So they're actually very close ...

Kakania: *sigh* I told her not to mention my name ...

Marcus: Ms. Kakania is lowering her hat. Does she not like the spotlight? No, that's not it. Is it because of Ms. Dittarsdorf’s gaze?

Marcus observes the woman in green intently. Isolde lifts the curtain.

…

Isolde: This is the debut of The Salvation-the only painting Theophil left behind.

Marcus: This is it!

Isolde: In his last moments, Theophil became obsessed with the Golden Isle. He envisioned it as a realm of art and culture, a utopia for arcanists.

Isolde: There, the primal vitality and passion of arcanists would be preserved and never tainted by the outside world. He wrote, "That island holds the hope of salvation."

Marcus: Hmm, is this so? This is above my clearance … Sounds like everyone in Vienna has their own interpretation of the island.

Isolde: Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please! We are forming a committee to petition the Empire to cease its attacks on the island!

Isolde: The arcanists there are not lunatics, they're simply living free!

Marcus: Erm?!

Familiar words interrupt Marcus's thoughts, her eyes widening in bewilderment. But beneath the spotlight, the speech continues.

Isolde: Their existence is a revelation to us. To help them is to help ourselves.

Isolde: Our society is sick. Treating the individual is only treating a symptom. It needs a radical surgery, a revolution that will let us rediscover our repressed nature, and reinvent ourselves in this world ...

Marcus: Something's wrong. Her speech is

Marcus's intuition hammers out a warning. A loud clear klaxon in her mind.

Before she can act, Isolde raises her hand as if holding out some drawn sword, reaching the climax of her speech.

Isolde: I wish for the arcanists to unite …

Marcus: And establish an independent kingdom of freedom, free from repression and oppression!

Marcus: ─!

…

Hofmann: It's an emergency. Seal the exits. Add Isolde to our targets.

Hofmann delivers her orders coldly and without a moment of hesitation.

Hofmann: Marcus, now.

Guest I: What? Am I hearing things, or did Ms. Dittarsdorf really say that?

At first, the crowd stirs like a ripple over a deep and swift current.

Guest I: Forgive her! Perhaps Ms. Dittarsdorf hasn't fully recovered from her illness...

Guest III: I think so too!

Kakania rises up from her seat, her hat sliding off her knee, stunned hands failing to catch it.

Kakania: What, how? I did not tell her to ...

Heinrich: Ladies and gentlemen! Dear friends! Calm down!

A man's voice booms from the other end of the exhibition hall.

Heinrich: Do not panic, for I have found salvation for you!

Kakania: Heinrich? What is that behind you …

Communicator: Hofmann, the targets showed up! But golems are attacking us!

Hofmann: I see it too.

Hofmann: The arcane skill of object enchantment? Marcus, give it a read.

Armored statues surround Heinrich, reaching a motionless still that creates an odd, if dramatic, tableau.

Heinrich: Please do not ignore what Ms. Dattersdorf is saying! This is a proving ground of a world-ending experiment! A catastrophe is coming. The clouds of war are filling up the sky.

Heinrich: Open your eyes and look at all we have now. The music, the art, the ambitions of progress …

Heinrich: Man's gunfire will destroy them all!

Kakania: ... What?

Kakania: What ... are you all talking about?

Isolde: Not to worry, doctor. You simply don’t know yet.

The woman, now so strange in the doctor’s eyes, reaches out her hand.

Isolde: Follow me, and I’ll show you everything, where your dream has taken root.

The appearance of the golems agitates the crowd, and the ripple becomes a chaotic crash of waves.

Guest III: This is ridiculous! An independent kingdom? It is treason! We are Viennese! Why would we want to leave our own country?

Guest IV: Are these golems works of art too? They look expensive, I’d like one in my collection.

Guest I: Open the door and let us go! This travesty is a disgrace!

The glow of arcane skill strikes against the golem but leaves no trace of damage.

Team Member: D**n, are these golems immune to arcanum? We can’t get to Heinrich!

Marcus: Madam Hofmann, I read them! Object enchantment strokes, the same ones we found at the Foundation Branch.

Hofmann: Any signs of the Manus’s rituals?

Marcus: No, nothing yet.

Hofmann nods, pressing the communicator again.

Hofmann: Golems can only be broken from within. Marcus, tell everyone the method. Olla, evacuate everyone and use the mute spell. Don’t let more people hear about the “era”!

The mentor, now agent, draws her sidearm, pushing through the panicked crowd.

Hofmann: …

Through the gaps between the golems, she keenly spots a pink dress disappearing behind a painting.

Hofmann: Heinrich’s escaped with Isolde. There’s an opening behind the painting.

Hofmann: After them!

6TH - 13 | The Island

[Guest Room, Island]

The low stone table is ill-suited for writing, but there is little other choice for the moment.

Vertin: Thank you for your mediation within the committee. I think you’re right.

Vertin: Sending more people to the island will only exacerbate the trust issue. They don’t trust us, and that’s what Arcana wants.

Things have just got better, and we can’t let anything else upset this delicate balance.

Vertin: I think …

The pen hesitates for a moment, but driven by need, it commits to the paper.

Vertin: If we somehow can’t come to an agreement with the Apeiron, we should at least prevent them from allying with the Manus in turn.

The letter lingers dangerously on her fingertips. Then, it flutters its wings, flying out of the room as a butterfly, heading at speed toward the headquarters of the St. Pavlov Foundation.

A timely knock breaks the tension in her.

Vertin: Come in please.

The visitor lifts the curtain. The rooms of the School of Apeiron rarely have doors. Such curtains are merely a courtesy for guests from beyond the island.

Marta: Good morning, Ms. Vertin. I’m here to see if you need help with anything.

Vertin: May I have some more paper?

Marta: Of course. We are always generous in our support of the contemplative.

Vertin: Thank you, Ms. Marta.

Vertin: Don’t you want to ask me what I’m writing letters for?

Marta: Despite all the unpleasant events, the integrity of your soul number is unquestionable.

The school’s envoy stands silently, her gaze not reflected beneath narrowed eyelids.

Vertin: The Foundation is negotiating with the outside world. They’re trying to resolve this unfounded territorial dispute peacefully. We’ve yet to reveal the coordinates of the island, and don’t want to exacerbate the conflict.

Vertin: Could you convey our sincere intentions?

Marta: … Heh heh. You’re such a young girl, yet you sound like an official.

She sighs resignedly.

Marta: But I’m just a practitioner without a number, a roamer of turbulent times. I haven’t been on this island much longer than you.

Marta: I will send your message, but I’m not the one who makes the decisions. It’s just, from what I know about the teachings of Apeiron, what you’re striving for is not of their concern, Ms. Vertin.

Vertin: I don’t understand.

Marta: All that is trivial in the phenomenal world is the trivialist of trivialities.

A wind blows in from beyond the void. In the direction of the sea breeze, one can see the beach has been restored as if it were new, no longer bearing the scars of battle that had littered it only a short time ago.

Marta: If the “Emanation” arrives, everything will be washed away. Wars, disputes.

MartaL Their number one priority is … how to find “salvation,” once and for all.

…

[The Hall of Apeiron]

The debate has been ongoing for days. The Hall of Truth is occupied by the clamor of their crushing reality.

Believer I: The fact is, we’re going astray!

Believer I: The “Emanation” in 1999 had taken away almost all our outside contacts.

Believer I: Ever since the incident four years ago, we’ve been cut off from the outside world and have become an isolated island in the “Emanation.” And during these four years, no research on the “Emanation” progressed. In the end, the theoretical study of its patterns was proven completely wrong.

Believer I: How long should we sit idly by? Until the humans take over our land? No matter who revealed our coordinates, be it the Foundation or Manus Vindictae, someone should be held responsible!

Believer II: 37 is the one in charge of studying the “Emanation. Save your questions after she wakes up. 6 is treating her now.

Believer II: Also, talking about the decisions made four years ago is meaningless now. What’s more, the Foundation is not hostile. They helped us minimize the damage from the reveal.

Believer II: Manus Vindictae has also given us constant material support since that difficult time four years ago.

Believer III: Ha, 37? She’s just a child, can’t even handle her own business. Ever since she brought outsiders to the sacred place, everything has changed …

Believer IV: You know you’re judging a child in a coma? Even if 37 did something wrong, she’s certainly paying for it!

Those gathered glare at each other from the edges of the room, seething with anger. Far from their formal votes awaiting the casting of stones─the debate has yet to even produce a clear topic of debate.

The pursuit of truth of days past, now muddled by the dust and blood of the phenomenal world.

210: Don’t get angry. What 42 is trying to say is simple.

210: “Even if the ‘Emanation’ will take away the human army, when is it coming?”

210: “Now that our model has failed, how can we be informed of the next ‘Emanation,’ and act accordingly?”

210: “If pure theoretical research is doomed to failure, and if we must look outward, how can we restore communication with the outside world?”

210: “Do we stand with the Foundation, or with Manus Vindictae?”

A clear voice of opposition rises from below.

Believer III: 210, your words are provocation! Are you saying that we should stop being neutral and get involved in the endless faction disputes? This is against what Apeiron stands for!

Believer II: I can’t agree either. The truth is supposed to keep us off the wheel of birth, not on it.

210: I was just interpreting what 42 had in mind.

210: Moreover, we’re already caught in the wheel of birth─human weapons were undeniably dropped on our island before. The tragedies it caused, and the thirst for justice will only keep us trapped in this cycle!

210: But what caused this cycle to begin with? Brothers and sisters, you are blinded by the shrapnels of that conflict, and you’re missing the “essence.” Listen to me and I will tell you─

Believer IV: Cut to the chase, 210! It seems you’re the one blinded by your own rethorics!

Believer III: Who can get me the stone clock on 6’s seat? I’ll clobber him myself!

The rhetorician taps his forehead mockingly, ignoring the dissatisfaction of his cohorts.

210: The original case is the failure of our research on “Emanation.”

210: Our excellence comes from our beliefs. Once the truth fails us, the foundation that sets us apart from the world will also fail us.

210: However, my people of great wisdom, forgive me for imagining a worst case for you …

210: We believe the book of nature was written in the language of mathematics, and every number is a transcendental existence living in the kingdom of eternity … Math is the path to truth. The calculation of math patterns has led us to pursue the fundamental knowledge of the world: the origin of pneuma.

210: But, what if the supreme existence has no pattern at all? What if the ebb and tide of pneuma is chaotic and irrational?

An uproar ensues.

Believer III: 210, are you denying our beliefs? Are you saying the results we’ve achieved are just coincidences?

Believer III: The fundamental theorems of ancient mathematics, the applications and improvements from modern mathematics, the mathematical laws in atomic clocks and leaf venation, and every prophecy of “Emanation” that were proven correct … Were they all just a collective dream of ours?

210: Well, like I said, I was just imagining a worst case scenario.

Believer III: Exhaustion is also a common method of proof.

Their further defense becomes untenable amid loud denunciations. The calls rise one after another, bouncing against the stone walls of the hall and reaching the ears of listeners outside as an echoed cacophony.

…

Sophia: …

Sophia: Please help us, O Apeiron.

Sophia: Correct the errors of our souls, bring us back on the right path … Harmonize our spirit with the flesh, our will with life; avoid sedition from a city; purge sickness from the body …

Sophia: …

Sophia wipes away her tears.

…

A flock of seagulls flies over the beach. They circle and dance in the air with an unusually delicate grace, more like butterflies than birds.

Sophia: They don’t look like seagulls, or am I mistaken?

The Corrector moves forward. Stepping into the crystal-clear sunlight … Where the red wax seal of the St. Pavlov Foundation’s express letter is clearly visible.

Sophia: Are these all from the outside world?

Sophia: What’s happening out there?

6TH - 14 | Fitcher's Bird

Kakania: I’m looking for Isolde von Dittarsdorf.

Two vigilant eyes appear from within the vent. The watcher silently looks over Kakania, then opens the underground passage.

…

Kakania: I’m looking for Isolde von Dittarsdorf.

A small window opens high along the stone wall. A different watcher now looks at Kakania again, more indifferently this time, unlocking the iron door with a key.

…

Kakania: I’m looking for Isolde von Dittarsdorf.

The ragged peddler, a stranger to Kakania, nods with strange recognition. He drapes a colorful feathered cloak over Kakania and hurries through the corridor.

Kakania: You sure this will work?

Vendor II: No time to complain, doctor. You should be very grateful that I’m helping you. This is an invisibility cloak from Bohemia. It took the hair of two witches to make one. No one will see you, even if you were right under their noses.

Kakania: … Okay.

The stiff feathers cover her entirely, making Kakania feel like an odd, flightless, if colorful bird. Enduring the discomfort of the smell, she quickens her pace.

Kakania: …

The sound of her own footfalls accelerates her heartbeat, though she tries to remember they are only audible to her. She turns a corner, then passes through to another corridor.

Things might well have gone smoothly─if not for some unexpected occurrences.

Vienna Guard: …?!

Vienna Guard: Where did these feathers come from?

Kakania: Holy─it’s losing feathers! I should have known these arcane devices are unreliable! I’m so close!

Kakania breaks into a run, her billowing skirt escaping the cloak’s cover, and so appearing in the air behind her.

Vienna Guard: Hey, wait.

Vienna Guard:Isn’t that the wanted criminal, Kakania? That traitor! Disturbing the peace, inciting treason, and bewitching citizens with arcane skills! How dare she infiltrate the government!

Vienna Guard:Halt, you’re under arrest!

[Empty Room, Foundation Branch]

Kakania: *panting*

Kakania slams the door shut, barricading her pursuers behind her. The room she finds herself in is oddly spacious.

A graceful figure emerges from behind the bookshelves.

Isolde: ... Doctor! You’ve finally come. I’ve been waiting for you.

Isolde drifts toward Kakania like a wisp, as if not fully real.

Isolde: For so long! Was your journey here safe? How have you been?

Kakania can’t help but step back cautiously.

Kakania: Isolde, what’s going on? What have you and Heinrich done?

Kakania: Why did you say that at the exhibition? Who were those people helping me on my way here? What’s with the golems, the secret tunnels, and that turmoil?

Kakania: You vanished from the exhibition, and now “The Circle” is considered a treasonous organization and our members are now wanted!

Kakania: Newspapers are criticizing us! The New Free Press called us “treasonous and naive, like a teenage runaway.” And now “The Circle” has become subversives, and I’m wanted! They even thought the chaos and subsequent turmoil were planned by me!

Kakania: This-this is not why I founded it! And now you invite me here, claiming to have found “the way to realize my dream” …

Kakania: You’re confusing me! Are you still the Isolde I know? You ..

Isolde: Please listen to me, doctor! I’ve been meaning to tell you, from the beginning. But Heinrich stopped me and told me the exhibition was a better time.

Isolde: He said your dream is a dream for everyone, and that’s why we should announce it in front of everyone.

Isolde: I should apologize. I did not see this coming. I have discredited you, and you have every reason to hate me.

She poorly hides the disappointment from her face, wilting as the light in her eye dims momentarily.

Isolde: But worry not, doctor, I give you my word, soon you won’t have to worry about anything.

Isolde: These people don’t understand your dream, and they won’t become your allies. But we─we are different!

Kakania: We?

She furrows her brow, mulling over the word with full weight and prudence.

Kakania: The mister who sent me your message, the people showing me the way, all were unfamiliar faces, I’ve never met any of them before.

Kakania: Who are they? No, who are you?

Kakania: What is “your” purpose?

Isolde: Heh heh, doctor, it doesn’t matter, doctor! What matters is that, “we” share the same dream with you, “we” long for the same paradise as you do. That glorious kingdom of freedom.

She steps toward the void again with staged emotion, her smile as beautiful as it had been in any performance.

Kakania: Isolde … Are you seeing illusions again?

Isolde: No, doctor. I’m completely cured. You healed me!

Isolde: And now, it’s my turn to treat the world with you. Let’s scrape the paint off the top, reveal its true colors, and reshape it.

Isolde: Until it is transformed into a perfect world, a perfect society! Because we are the chosen ones!

Kakania: You …

Kakania: You planned the riots in Leopoldstadt, right? And the march demanding the transformation of society.

Isolde smiles half-mischievously.

Kakania: Isolde, I don’t know what they said to threaten you, but you can’t stay with them!

Kakania: They’re not treating you─you’re committing a crime!

The actress stands bewildered, as if she had never considered it at all.

Isode: But I did exactly what you told me to do, doctor.

Kakania: Me?

Isolde takes light steps, retreating but not turning.

Isolde: It was you who told me to stop repressing myself, to release my inner desires, and to be sincere, to be free.

…

The graceful woman takes her place. Soon, she will pay homage to that splendid one-act play with her art─the curtain of her stage is about to rise.

…

Isolde nods, turning in a move at first bashful.

But then her face returns, now hidden behind a black mask.

Isolde: It was you who told me that our society needs surgery, and that we arcanists need a new life that belongs to us. Is this not your dream? I just … want to give you the truth of the world. I just want to give you back your dream.

6TH - 15 | With Hope Rekindled

Hofmann: Burn these letters, Marcus. Destroy them in accordance with the Field Mission Manual Article 341 so that no one else can read them.

Hofmann walks briskly, handing over the latest reviewed letter to her assistant.

Marcu: Ok, Madam Hofmann … But shouldn’t we reply to these messages from the Field Squad?

Hofmann: Don’t bother. The secret letters are sent to all active investigators above rank four.

Hofmann: The squad is like the watchers of the Critical Points. They collect and record every event different to the ones in history and report to the Foundation. These incidents will be the index for evaluating the stability of the current era.

Hofmann: In other words, the more reports they send, the more unstable the era is.

Hofmann: This keeps every field investigator up to date on the situation so they can plan their next move. In the past, we have seen too many tragedies caused by a lack of information.

Hofmann: But now, our own task is more urgent.

Hofmann bites her lip, rushing Marcus around a corner. Recent events have added a few more strands of white to her hair.

Hofmann: “The Circle” publicly committed treason, Isolde and Heinrich disappeared, Kakania became wanted. The Leopoldstadt riots and the march of the lower-class arcanist may be directly related to them. Heinrich and Isolde’s speech is like the spark that ignited the powder keg that is Vienna. The riots have been going on for days.

Marcus: But … Why was Ms. Kakania wanted?

Marcus: She didn’t act out of line in the exhibition, and seemed totally unaware of the speech. All she had was the book which didn’t belong to this era. Clearly, Heinrich didn’t tell her a thing.

Hofmann: It’s because she is the known founder of “The Circle,” and a middle class with no background.

Hofmann: This is good news for us, Marcus. We can start with Kakania. They didn’t protect her from being wanted, which means she hasn’t fully assimilated into this elite group of nobles.

Hofmann: How typical of Manus Vindictae. We need to find her fast.

Hofmann: Luckily, the Spider Tail you put on her is reacting.

*crash*

Stones scrape over the top of her head. The investigators turn back in shock. The statue standing at the entrance to the Foundation’s Vienna branch has just been shattered to pieces. A hysterical laugh can be heard booming from the fourth-floor window.

Rioter: Hahahaha! Go to hell, you dirty, disgusting officials! For a kingdom of freedom!

Marcus: …!

Marcus: For a … kingdom of freedom …?

Hofmann: Shoot, they’re attacking the Foundation branch?

Hofmann: Focus on what’s important, Marcus! Someone’s summoned a bunch of critters on Carinthian Street! They’re coming this way!

Hoffman: *coughing*

A strangely scented smoke spreads out over the street, making the already chaotic scene even more incomprehensible.

Hofmann: Something’s wrong with this mist. Maybe the evaporation of the arcane potion. *cough* Devil’s Shoestring, judging by the smell … For better diffusivity?

Hofmann: Marcus, cover your mouth and nose. We’ll enter the Foundation’s branch when it clears up.

…

Hofmann pulls Marcus’s hand, darting through the crowd at speed to avoid inhaling more of the unknown gas.

…

At last, they reach an area not yet engulfed by chaos.

For now, all that’s left for them is to wait.

Marcus: …

The unseasoned investigator stands stunned and uncharacteristically vacant in mind.

Hofmann: Marcus, are you ok? Did the mist get to you?

Marcus: No …

Marcus pats her head, where a layer of cold sweat has formed.

Marcus: Madan Hofmann, the terrorists and the people in the march, what they shouted, “for a kingdom of freedom” …

Marcus: That’s-that’s what Ms. Dittarsdorf said in the exhibit, and she quoted that from Dr. Kakania …

Marcus: And-and it was me … I told that to Dr. Kakania! I told her about the island, I told her it’s a place of freedom for arcanists! S-so I’m the one who caused this turmoil! I told them the secret of the Golden Isle and caused the chain reaction!

Hofmann: …

Hofmann seems to have neither words of comfort nor criticism planned. She bites her tongue in her mouth. Marcus, meanwhile, collapses slowly to the ground as she holds her head.

Marcus: I didn’t listen to you … I’m too reckless, I lack rational thinking, I’m unstable and out of control … And the one thing I can control, my arcane skill, didn’t help at all …

Marcus: You vouched for me and appointed me to the field mission from the headquarters, but I …!

Hofmann: … Maybe it is like you said.

Hofmann rubs her temples figuratively, ignoring the now-pale complexion of her subordinate.

Hofmann: Maybe you did play a role in this era, causing a butterfly effect in history …

Hofmann: But trying to be responsible for everything beyond one’s capability is a symbol of irrational hubris.

Marcus: ─!

Hofmann: First of all, creating chaos in this chaotic time is more than easy. Just look at all the frequent ethnic conflicts, assassinations, and espionage.

Hofmann: If not “The Circle” and Isolde, the Manus will find themselves a different flashpoint.

Hofmann: You never know how the leaked information will simmer. Its subsequent spread is uncontrollable, and remorse would be useless. The thing is, everyone has their own ideas about that island. Your words just deepened their expectations.

Marcus: …

Her cheeks finally regain some color.

Hofmann: As for your self assessment …

Hofmann: We have all heard it: humans are more rational and arcanists are more emotional.

Hofmann: They’re sensitive to the darkness in the world, so they can easily become absorbed in their own emotions and ignore reality.

Hofmann: But if we put a human child in the position of an arcanist, who always takes on the world because of his uniqueness, who is never understood for his talents …

Hofmann: Maybe he too will become impulsive, sensitive, immature and unstable.

Hofmann: And that’s why it sometimes dawns on me that if we put an arcanist child in the position of a human being who receives enough love, education, and positive feedback …

Hofmann: These “instabilities” might be controllable. At least enough to keep them from hurting themselves or others.

Marcus: Madam Hofmann …

Hofmann: I took you away from the “Storm” in 1912. It’s been a long time after that, so I know how precious it must be for you to return to 1914. And your urge to complete the mission, and go back to Romania.

Hofmann: You’re not an impulsive person, Marcus, you’re just growing up.

Hofmann: And you do need to grow.

Hofmann brings her hand to her mouth, coughing softly and hesitantly.

Hofmann: As for appointing you, it was by my own will.

Hofmann: Because, the age of humans has come to an end.

Marcus: The age of humans … is ending?

Marcus staggers back to her feet. Contrary to her expectations, Hofmann’s expression is unchanged. As if she is merely stating an established fact.

Hofmann: If the eras keep on regressing, human technologies would fail to accumulate. Meanwhile, arcane skills that depend largely on the individual’s potential, will shine.

Hofmann: In this war of reversals, futures, and time, it is you who will survive, not us. And that’s why sooner or later, you’ll have to go at it alone.

Hofmann: This is the most rational assessment I can make for the continuation of civilization.

Marcus: Rational …

Marcus: But I’ve been doing my best to be rational as well. Even though I keep reading and practicing information analysis …

Marcus: I … can’t make a choice. What if I make a wrong choice? What if there’s no right answer? What if I never told Kakania about …

Hofmann: Enough. You’re getting carried away. There is nothing mysterious about rationality. It simply guides us out of confusion and straight to the essence of things.

Marcus: The essence?

Hofmann: The reason why we’re doing a job here is simple, Marcus. Arcanists keep going to the Manus. It’s because they can promise the “salvation,” while we can’t.

Hofmann: Therefore, decoding their immunity ritual against the “Storm” is top priority. If we can’t, being isolated on a small piece of land, we’re bound to meet our end in this temporal catastrophe.

Hofmann: We are not the only investigators sent by the headquarters. So our mission is to collect every clue left by the Manus and send them back to Laplace.

Everything else is secondary.

Marcus: …

Marcus presses her lips tightly, not wanting to speak. She takes a deep breath, following Hofmann’s words as they step out of the darkness. She can do nothing more than focus intently on their current situation.

Marcus: Madam Hofmann, besides finding Ms. Kakania, there may be another way. That painting, the last work of Theophil, The Salvation. Something’s off with it. When I read it in the exhibition, I felt a familiar afflatus. It was concealed in a clever way, but I noticed the traces of concealment.

Hofmann: Manus’s arcane skill?

Marcus hesitates for a moment, performing at once a nod and shaking her head, creating a mudded response.

Marcus: But I couldn’t read anything more from it. If we can persuade Ms. Kakania to help us with her arcane skill …

Hofmann: Is her arcane skill similar to yours?

Marcus: No, quite different. I fought her once. I feel that under certain conditions, our arcane skills might be complementary.

Marcus posits wholeheartedly, once again drifting into her own thoughts.

Hofmann: Well done, Marcus. This is something only you can do.

Hofmann: The government has the painting now. The Field Agent Squad can retrieve it for us.

Hofmann nods, loading more bullets into the chamber.

Hofmann: The fog is cleared. Let’s go.

Hofmann: Now, we need to find Kakania.

6TH - 16 | Don't fall into darkness.

Sonetto: Regulus’s ship was sunk. Landed … Good. They landed safely. Caspita! The rioters are still after them! If it goes on like this … My apologies, Timekeeper. Are you feeling better now?

6TH - 17 | Art Above All

Sonetto: Regulus’s ship was sunk. Landed … Good. They landed safely. Caspita! The rioters are still after them! If it goes on like this … My apologies, Timekeeper. Are you feeling better now?

6TH - 18 | Only Applause

Sonetto: Regulus’s ship was sunk. Landed … Good. They landed safely. Caspita! The rioters are still after them! If it goes on like this … My apologies, Timekeeper. Are you feeling better now?

6TH - 19 | The Clashing Tides

Sonetto: Regulus’s ship was sunk. Landed … Good. They landed safely. Caspita! The rioters are still after them! If it goes on like this … My apologies, Timekeeper. Are you feeling better now?

6TH - 20 | War and Peace

Sonetto: Regulus’s ship was sunk. Landed … Good. They landed safely. Caspita! The rioters are still after them! If it goes on like this … My apologies, Timekeeper. Are you feeling better now?

6TH - 21 | Double Cross

Sonetto: Regulus’s ship was sunk. Landed … Good. They landed safely. Caspita! The rioters are still after them! If it goes on like this … My apologies, Timekeeper. Are you feeling better now?

6TH - 22 | Finished Page

Sonetto: Regulus’s ship was sunk. Landed … Good. They landed safely. Caspita! The rioters are still after them! If it goes on like this … My apologies, Timekeeper. Are you feeling better now?

6TH - 23 | Hansel and Gretel

Sonetto: Regulus’s ship was sunk. Landed … Good. They landed safely. Caspita! The rioters are still after them! If it goes on like this … My apologies, Timekeeper. Are you feeling better now?

6TH - 24 | E lucevan le stelle

Sonetto: Regulus’s ship was sunk. Landed … Good. They landed safely. Caspita! The rioters are still after them! If it goes on like this … My apologies, Timekeeper. Are you feeling better now?