Chapter 7: Pathways

"Investigator Pathway? Am I supposed to take that literally?" Ethan asked, raising a brow.

"Yes. Let me explain." Timmy the dove flapped his wings before continuing. "Pathways are the paths people follow, each with a ranking system called sequences. You, for example, are currently a Sequence 9: Investigator Pathwalker."

Ethan listened, though his skepticism remained.

"Strength isn't always equal across pathways. A Sequence 8 from the Death Pathway might be able to defeat a Sequence 2 from the Investigator Pathway, simply because investigators focus on uncovering secrets rather than direct combat." Timmy explained.

Ethan sighed, rubbing his forehead as he tried to process this. He glanced down at the tarot card in his hand. "And what about this? Are there ranks to tarot cards too?"

"No, not in the same way." Timmy shook his head. "Tarot cards don't have strict levels, but they do fall into general categories—high-sequence, mid-sequence, and low-sequence cards."

Ethan exhaled sharply. "Of course they do…" He muttered before slipping the tarot card back into his suit's jetted pocket and continuing on his way toward Elder Son Graveyard.

…

When Ethan arrived at Elder Son Graveyard, the sky was overcast, heavy with the promise of rain. The air carried the scent of damp earth as he made his way through the rows of weathered tombstones.

A freshly dug hole caught his attention. A shovel lay abandoned beside it—a clear sign of grave robbing.

"Ahh, grave robbing. Typical." Ethan muttered, scanning his surroundings before picking up the shovel.

Just as he did, his foot slipped on the muddy ground, and before he could react, he plummeted straight into the open grave.

At that exact moment, two police officers appeared. One was younger, rigid with discipline. The other was older, sporting a gray beard and a weary expression that suggested he'd seen it all before.

'Oh, fuck.' Ethan thought.

He quickly composed himself, forcing a calm expression as he looked up from the grave. "This isn't what it looks like."

The older officer raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Oh? And what exactly does it look like, then?"

The younger officer stepped forward, hand on his holster. "Sir, get out and put your hands behind your back. You're under arrest for grave robbing."

Ethan sighed. No point in arguing. He jumped out of the grave, letting them cuff him without resistance. Soon, he found himself hauled off to the station, where the two officers discussed his fate with their superior.

After a few moments, the older officer approached him, arms crossed. "Name?"

"Hayes Burton," Ethan lied smoothly.

While the officers deliberated, Ethan considered using his Tarot Card, but with his hands bound behind his back, it seemed impossible.

Until the card teleported into his fingers.

Ethan didn't react outwardly, though the sudden convenience was surprising. He activated the Face-Shifting Talent, his features warping into that of a police officer.

The handcuffs snapped open, and he stood, adjusting his uniform as if he belonged.

Walking over to the older officer, Ethan nodded curtly. "Hey, you should go check if that Hayes Burton guy is still there."

Without question, the officer turned toward the holding cells.

Ethan walked right out of the station.

Timmy swooped down beside him, flapping his wings. "Congratulations. I didn't think you had it in you."

"Now, tell me Timmy, what was the point of me going to the graveyard?" Ethan asked, "I don't know, God almighty told me that you had to go to that graveyard." 

Is he fucking with me right now?…Ethan thought.. he let out a sigh as he put he's tarot card back into he's jetted pockets…unbeknownst to them, there was a man watching them from afar…

As Ethan walked through the dimly lit streets, Timmy perched comfortably atop his fedora. The dove could fly, of course, but apparently, he preferred to let Ethan carry him.

"So, since that graveyard trip was a complete waste of time, what sequence is this Face-Shifting Tarot Card?" Ethan asked, adjusting his hat slightly to keep Timmy balanced.

"Low Sequence." Timmy replied.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you tell if a card is low, mid, or high sequence?"

Timmy fluffed his feathers before answering. "It's simple. Cards are categorized based on the sequence levels of the pathways they align with. Low Sequence covers Sequence 9 to 8, Mid Sequence includes Sequence 7 to 5, and High Sequence ranges from Sequence 4 to 1."

Tarot Card Rankings

Low Sequence → Cards of Sequence 9 - 8

Mid Sequence → Cards of Sequence 7 - 5

High Sequence → Cards of Sequence 4 - 1

Ethan exhaled through his nose, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "Right. Of course. Just another convenient ranking system to keep track of."

Timmy flapped his wings. "You say that like you're not already knee-deep in this mess."

Ethan made his way back to Baker Street, but as he approached Alaric's house, he noticed a man in a suit vest standing by the entrance, waiting.

The man was tall—around 6'2", with broad shoulders and a composed expression.

Ethan slowed his pace, eyeing the stranger cautiously. "Can I help you?"

The man's gaze settled on him. "Yes." His response was short, almost clipped.

Then, in a low whisper, he added, "Victor William. Mid-Sequence Tarot Card Club member."

Ethan kept his expression neutral, but his mind was already racing. 'Tarot Card Club? Is this connected to the murder?'

Without a word, he nodded and pushed open the door to Alaric's home, gesturing for Victor to step inside.

Inside, they sat across from each other at a small wooden table. The house was sparse, the furnishings worn—a clear sign of Alaric's financial struggles. If Victor noticed, he didn't comment.

Ethan leaned forward slightly. "So. Tarot Card Club?" His tone was casual, but there was a sharp edge of curiosity.

Victor exhaled through his nose, as if he had expected the question. "Naturally."

Then, with a measured tone, he continued, "The Tarot Card Clubs are groups formed by individuals who carry magical cards. These cards are known as 'Tarot Cards'—each possessing unique abilities."

Ethan nodded, absorbing the information. 'This just keeps getting better.'

"…Hm? Never mind that. I'm part of a Tarot Club known as the 'Heretics,' and we want you, Mister Alaric Thorn, to join us."

Ethan tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "And what exactly are the benefits?"

Negotiation was all about leverage—if they wanted something from him, he needed to know what was in it for him first.

Victor leaned back, folding his arms. "The benefits of being part of an official Tarot Club are substantial. Your Tarot Card will grow stronger, your physical abilities will be enhanced through magic potions, and most importantly, you'll gain allies."

Ethan tapped his fingers against the table, mulling it over. Then he asked, "And the drawbacks?"

Victor let out a short chuckle. "Hm… Well, consuming magic potions comes with a risk. A rather significant one. If your body rejects the potion, you won't just die—you'll turn into something we call a 'Demon.'" He shrugged. "That's about the most creative name the Heretics have ever come up with, honestly."

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "So there's a chance I could become a monster?"

"A very real one," Victor confirmed.

A brief silence stretched between them. Ethan weighed his options. Tarot Clubs, magic potions, growing stronger—all of it sounded useful. But the risk… well, risk was nothing new to him.

Finally, he exhaled through his nose and said, "Alright. I'll join."

The heretics resided here in Wictorian, their leader was a women named, a shallow white, an odd name but everyone seems to like codenames. She's sequence 2 heretic of the dominator pathway, Ethan was told by victor that he was in the faceless pathway, because of he's face shifting tarot card.

As the next day, after Lisa left for school, Ethan was sent a address, '43 cuming street", 'dumb name' Ethan thought as he got ready, in he's suit, his or Alaric's revolver in the jetted pocket, fedora and cane in hand.

"Well I'm here, cumming street.." Ethan was standing outside a decent two story house, with cobbled walls and a wooden door, it was a fenced house so it indeed looked like a house out of a 90s horror movie. Ethan opened the door to be met by 6 individuals sitting on a bronze chairs and there was a long bronze table in the middle.

Ethan quietly took a seat and victor passed him a heretic potion, 'I might die now or live to see another grave.' Ethan mused as he opened the potion and drank it down…

He was still alive! Ethan let out a sigh of relief and victor nodded. "Mister victor, if you may start the Ritual Branding." Madame shallow white said, 'what..?' Ethan thought as victor William stands up and walks towards Ethan's chair, suddenly a circle made of pure darkness surrounded Ethan as it felt like he's soul was being crushed.

He opens he's eyes wide! He is no longer with the heretics, he stood infront of the same mirror as before, where he first met Lucius, as he turned around to see Lucius walking towards him. "Well look at my detective." Lucius said with he's ever present smirk.

"Oh hey, Lucifer." Ethan said sarcastically, "hah, seems like Timmy told you about god almighty." 

Ethan rolled he's eyes, lucifer was the biggest deceiver in Christianity, not that he was Christian in his past life. He saw himself floating in the air, right where he was previously in, it seems as though this mirror world contains life's.

"I call this place the mirror world!" Lucius said as Ethan's soul was transferred back into Alaric thorn's body…

His body fell to the ground, as victor rushed to see if he was still alive..

"His still alive!" Victor told the group..