Chapter 255: Mask of Many

"You think he's gonna be able to come back after all this?" Stolas would ask, as the four would walk across the streets, reminding themselves of the hotel, wondering if there was truly a way to save them, or if it was a fool's errand. The Avian would look up towards the blue sky, his eyes closed and taking a breather from such a hell they were trapped in.

"Definitely not after tomorrow, that's for sure. I'd probably give it a week or so, maybe a month..." Zazel retorted, still hearing his cries of pain when he saw the results failed. As the children make their way across the streets, Harvard would reach towards his suit to take out the mask, though stopping himself when he feels something completely different. Zazel took a quick notice at his friends reaction and raised up his hand for others to stop walking. "Something up?" He'd question. Harvard would take off the mask he got from the person, seeing something within it: Cards. Specifically eight of them, much to the shock of the entire group. Four Monsters, each one being based on the judgement they were given, each one being based on the children themselves: Cherub, A monster based on an angel, black steel being coated around him, Theia, a Planetary-shaped Monster with mechanical rings across its body, sporting a green aura with constellations around it, serving as its atmosphere, Enma, a Monster with a flaming skull and robes that depicts the Inferno, and Ringmaster, a Monster with the four suites of a deck plastered in its waste, hoops being used as a weapon, and a top hat, all in a color of white and light blue. Four Spells were also visible: Notably more Illusions to impair one's sight and Rituals to attain massive amount of energy, as well as two book spells that held different colors and covers, one being of a moon, the other a sun.

The mask itself changed just as much, becoming a Noh mask with a sinister expression, almost looking like Harvard's own face, albeit misshapen. "Creepy....." The boy muttered, trying to shake the mask somewhat to see if more cards were going to be made, and sure enough, it was. Monsters of different shapes and sizes with different names, some in batches such as a cluster of Snack-like beasts, a set of plushies and monsters made of pure elements, others possessing specific names, somewhat shocked that so much was held in here: Macabre, Camelot, Xibal, Carmilla, Pluto, Lupina, Maxwell, Azathoth, Basker, Lilith, Mordred, Cocytus, Tomberry, Unknown, Marianna, Bumble, Vlad, Fanatix, Pharaoh, Folio, Fibonacci, Atum, Kuro, Kubrick, Banshee. So many beasts, all with a captive allure that compels Harvard further and further, yet as they came down, so too will a note. Solomon snatched the note and opened it, letting the Mask generate more and more cards for Harvard to wield, whilst they read.

"Greetings!"

"I am here to give my consolation for whomever assisted Mr. Makarin. Consider this as our proper payment for providing him the chance to face his punishment in stride. I also would want this to be considered as forgiveness regarding the tragedy. Beneath each mask lies a secret for each person that finds it, with this being my personal deck of cards I once used while I was alive. On the back of the page would be what each spell and Monster does, so that way you don't foolishly throw them around like a rabid animal. Think of it like a blueprint to prepare yourself. Please, take them. It would be unfit of me to wield such magic in this crooked state. My next mask lies far beyond mere eyes, befitting for nothing short than blasphemy. Do be careful when collecting it."

"- Your friend <3"

"Friend, huh?" Solomon stated in a sarcastic tone, allowing Harvard to take the cards and insert them in his deck, watching it grow more and more, with spells being showered instead: A Book that brings fantasy to life, Islands being made, one as a hand and another as a location, seals that restrict movement or energy to empower whoever's bound over time, A Satellite that provides energy, A Doorway to escape from combat, Curtains to shield them from sight, Straw Dolls to attack from a distance, bringing dreams and nightmares into existence, turning into a spectral figure to possess people, thorns, earthquakes, oceans, a box of snacks, mummification, swapping monsters and spells in contact, a gachapon, a top, a totem that uses monsters, a turret that fires it, mutations, appendages of the monsters themselves, a stone akin to the red gem, reticles, chemical reactions, misfortune incarnate, even spells that serve as a way to make more lesser monsters, with one being like a candy house, another being a crane game and another with a picture of the planet itself. Harvard would cast one of these spells, creating a Box of cookies for everyone to have. They were authentic. The person who owned the note was an actual wielder, his mind already coming into a conclusion of who's deck this belong to, though he doubts himself even further at such an answer.

He would've been dead a long time ago, if he was the supposed wielder.

"Far beyond mere eyes.....Does that mean the next mask is somewhere far from Khepros itself?" Harvard would ask, trying to make sense of the riddle.

Solomon nodded to his reasoning. "The Blasphemy part also means it's going to either Stolas or Zazel. Considering Zazel's magic is more tangible, I'd be willing to bet he's getting the next bounty."

"Wait, wait. Hold on a second." Zazel stated, grabbing the note and reading it again. "...How does this person know who we are, though? There's no way BY CHANCE that we would conveniently step in and get this, right? Anyone else could've grabbed the reward....Unless they knew us directly." The assumption the Demon raised brought an interesting thought to their minds. It did felt a bit convenient that Gabriel was the first target, whom was also someone Zazel and Harvard recognized beforehand. A disturbing reality would set in that whomever this person was, may also be responsible for targeting other people they have ties to. "Ok, yeah, be on our guard for this one. This person knows us. We need to find out who else was targeted that's also connected to us in some way."

"One of the missions we had was with a voyage, right? That's gotta be where the Second Mask may show up!" Stolas would state, before, once the contents were finally empty, the Noh mask shifted into a small puzzle piece, one that held contents akin to a map. The boys would look amongst one another, recognizing what needs to be done. They quickly ran as much as their little legs can to the docks of Khepros, passing by many people in the process, with the children looking back at the note and learning from the blueprint as much as they can.

One of such people being passed through was a figure in a coat, watching them run, smiling to itself. He'd be quick to find someone within the small streets, a man playing a guitar and strumming his strings. "Well, Well, Well....Down on our luck, are we?" The man asked, taking a gold piece and tossing it towards him.

The Guitarist graciously took the piece, chuckling to himself. "Nah, man...Just playing my music. I want to brighten up at least one person's day while I'm here." His voice was lax, calm, cordial even.

The man crouched and slouched against a wall, taking out a piece of parchment. "At least one person's day, you say? Why...I believe I may have your solution then. Come, Come! Take a look at this." The Guitarist would take notice of how eager the shadowed man was, yet his curiosity took the best of him, prompting a small peek. What the Guitarist saw next, was nothing but heaven itself. His eyes reflected within the contents, witnessing what he believed was the pearly gates themselves. His iris changed from a calm beige into a slew of colors, washing over him like it was soft rainfall. "Beautiful, no?" The figure would ask, prompting a nod towards the Guitarist. "Would you like to see more of such colors? Such sights? Such wonderous scenery? All I ask for you is to do me one, small favor....and Heaven is all yours." The Guitarist turned his head towards the man, trying to see who was responsible for such a sight, though was only met with a piece of parchment.

As if by instinct, the man raised his hand and tapped onto the paper, his prints serving as his signature.