Several hours from now, another will certainly replace him. When their eyes meet, the man across the way hurriedly lowers his hat and pretends to read the newspaper, most likely asking his superior for assistance through a hidden headset. The man looks up from his book and stares past the trees and hedges, where his eyes find another man with a stern expression on his face, despite seemingly conversing with a friend on the phone. "You want to know what I plan to do now?" The man raises his eyebrows as he answers. No doubt the caller can also hear the rustling of the leaves, the whistling of the wind, and the splashes of water from the fountain nearby as well.Īfter a brief silence, words finally find him-a question. Without the voice, the sounds of engines revving, and passersby murmuring come clearly through the speaker. The other end of the call falls silent at the man's words. We have something they do not: the luxury of time.the time to think and plan." "And should the battle not go our way this time, fret not. I long to see that day."Ī breeze stronger than before sweeps across the park, rustling the trees and chasing small birds from their berries. Humanity and its fools will meet their end, and we will have reclaimed paradise. "When Orochi, the Will of Gaia is awakened, all of the clan will do what they must, including Leona and Ryuji Yamazaki. This is true of myself, of Chris and Shermie.and of you."Ī light breeze brushes past him as he speaks. Each of us is guided by the 'self' and its desires, but are all unified by the 'us' of the Orochi clan. Among those loyal to Orochi, only we Four Heavenly Kings remain. "Mature and Vice have been charmed by Iori Yagami Ryuji Yamazaki has chosen himself over the clan and Leona Heidern continues to deny what she is. The man chuckles as he playfully flicks a page of his book. "You do." His voice is awash with relief, perhaps a sign that the man's response afforded him some form of comfort. Do I have that right?"Ī short groan can be heard through the phone, no doubt coming from a face fraught with embarrassment. It seems that no sooner have you been resurrected that you've cast aside your pride and are now seeking Shermie and Chris, perhaps to assuage your present fears. Though the two are not close, they are hardly complete strangers, and the man cannot help but be amused imagining the frowns and furrowed brows on the other side of the line. "Are you mocking me?" comes the response, a tinge of irritation in the caller's voice. It's natural-we all do in the face of the unknown.
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You would like me to venture a guess as to what that is, yes? Of course that child would exercise caution.
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"I have indeed seen them with my own eyes. With his gaze fixed on some small birds foraging for berries in the distance, the man calmly gives his reply. The caller's story is both outlandish and nightmarish, and the lighthearted tone in which it is delivered belies an earnest and uncharacteristic trepidation. "Countless hands clawing their way out of a fissure formed in endless darkness, you say.?"Īs he listens intently to the voice coming from the speaker, the man places a hand on his chin and begins to ponder. No sooner does the caller start with "I need your opinion on something" than he begins to say what that something is, giving no time for the man to respond. As the dulcet tones of classical music plays from its speakers, the man peers at the call notice, then bookmarks his page and quietly grabs the phone. The smartphone haphazardly placed on the man's table lights up, drawing his gaze away from his book. Though he leads a rather restricted life otherwise, he lives for these regular moments in which he can lose himself in a book and the warm embrace of nature. His expression is calm and content as he flips through the book.Īt this time of day, the park is practically devoid of people, but this is precisely what the man prefers-when he closes his eyes, the rustling of the trees in the breeze and the cries of every bird and squirrel ring clearer than ever.
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Just past noon, with the sun still high in the sky, a lone man clad in minister-like attire sits lost in the pages of a book in the corner of a large park, a faint breeze caressing his skin.