A Concealment Ritual and the Grieving Child

Charles awoke to an urgent knocking at his door. Dawn's pale light had just begun seeping through the small window, painting the sky in soft orange hues. He sat up in bed, brain still foggy from the late night. Images of the warehouse and Roland's capture swirled in his mind.

The knocking came again, louder and faster than before.

"All right, I'm coming!" Charles called, grabbing his robe. His bare feet touched the cold wooden floor.

When he opened the door, he found Joseph standing there with another man—long black hair to his shoulders, a slight beard glinting faintly—Sebastian Morrow.

"Good morning, Mr. Sebastian," Charles greeted, then turned to Joseph, who leaned on his cane. "What brings you here so early?"

"Urgent matter," Joseph answered tersely, his expression grim.

"At this hour?" Charles sighed. "I only slept a few hours after last night's incident…"

"I haven't slept at all," Joseph cut in, voice tense. "Hurry up and get dressed. We have to go."

"Ugh, official work is rough," Charles muttered, heading back inside to get ready, his voice trailing off as he complained under his breath. "You can come in," he said over his shoulder. "Just give me a minute."

Joseph and Sebastian stepped into the house while Charles rummaged for clothes in the next room.

"What happened?" Charles called from behind the bedroom wall.

"There was a tragedy at a carpenter's workshop last night," Joseph replied, tone heavy. "Five bodies. The condition they were found in is… disturbing."

Sebastian nodded. "All five were torn to pieces as if by a wild animal, but some of the wounds look like they were inflicted by something sharp, almost like jagged branches."

Charles paused in the middle of putting on his coat. "That doesn't sound normal at all."

"It's not," Sebastian agreed. "From the signs, I'm guessing we're dealing with an Ascendant who got devoured by his own power."

"In that case," Charles asked as he slipped on his shoes, "why drag me along? I'm new to the special division—I've never handled a case like this."

Joseph shrugged, running a hand over the silver handle of his cane. "It's the perfect chance for you to learn. This is part of the job."

"Hmph." Charles stifled a yawn. "Fine, fine…"

Once he was dressed, they set out. A black carriage from the Department of Supernatural Suppression and Defense was waiting outside. As Charles left, he noticed Mrs. Wilson from next door bent over her little garden, tending her plants.

"Good morning, Mrs. Wilson," he called, forcing a smile through his lingering grogginess.

"Off to work so early?" The elderly woman glanced up from her rosebush, a warm smile on her lined face. "Such a hardworking young man."

"Yes, ma'am…" Charles replied weakly. "There's an urgent case."

"Take care," she said kindly. "Don't push yourself too hard. And don't skip breakfast."

Charles nodded before climbing into the carriage with Joseph and Sebastian. The wheels clacked on the cobblestones, leaving Mrs. Wilson standing at her garden gate, concern visible in her eyes as she watched them depart.

Inside the carriage, Charles dropped onto the seat, too tired at first to notice the small figure curled up in the corner. A little girl wrapped in a thin blanket peered at him with red, swollen eyes.

"Ah—who's this?" Charles asked, lifting a brow as he glanced from the girl to Joseph.

"She's the carpenter's daughter," Joseph explained. "She insisted on coming along."

"What?" Charles frowned, clearly disapproving. "You're bringing a child to the crime scene?"

Joseph let out a weary sigh. "Without letting her come, she wouldn't talk at all. She was pulling her own hair out. It's safer to keep her with us."

'This can't be good for her,' Charles thought, eyeing the traumatized child. 'But I suppose we need her testimony...'

"All right…" he mumbled aloud, too tired to argue. He leaned his head back against the carriage wall, eyelids drooping shut.

Joseph noticed and shook his head. "Mr. Sebastian—if you would."

Sebastian nodded, taking out a small glass vial filled with a clear liquid. He uncorked it and held it under Charles's nose.

"Ugh—koff! Koff!" Charles jerked awake, coughing hard and blinking rapidly. His eyes watered from the pungent fumes. "What is that?"

"Iris oil," Sebastian replied calmly, recorking the vial and putting it away. "A special formula from the division—it clears drowsiness on the spot."

"Special formula, huh?" Charles rubbed his stinging nose. "It feels like my nostrils are about to burn off."

"But you're awake now, aren't you?" Joseph asked with a slight grin.

Charles had to admit it was true—every trace of fatigue had evaporated. The girl in the corner watched him curiously, her sorrowful expression lightening just a fraction at his comical reaction.

The carriage rattled along the city streets, heading toward the carpenter's shop. When they arrived, a crowd had formed around the site, with city guards in uniform keeping everyone at a distance.

Sebastian disembarked, a stack of official documents bearing the city's seal in hand, and made straight for the officer in charge—a man with insignia on his shoulder—who was directing his subordinates. Meanwhile, Charles and Joseph turned to Emma.

"Stay here in the carriage for a bit," Joseph said softly. "We'll go inside and take a look."

Emma shook her head, tears threatening again. "I want to go… I have to see my father."

"Listen," Charles said firmly, attempting to reason with her. "It's dangerous in there. You should wait here."

The child went silent for a moment before tightening her hold on the blanket, trembling. "If you don't let me go…" Her small hand slid out, clutching a sharp piece of wood hidden in the folds of the blanket. She aimed it at her own wrist. "I'll—"

"Emma!" Joseph gasped. Both men exchanged alarmed looks. They certainly didn't want her to witness the scene inside, but if they tried to restrain her, she might hurt herself.

'She's more desperate than I thought,' Charles realized, eyeing the jagged wood in her hand. 'We can't risk pushing her over the edge.'

"All right. Joseph, you handle her," Charles said, eyes never leaving the jagged wood in her hand. "Sebastian and I will deal with the rest."

Joseph nodded and reached toward Emma's wrist in a calming gesture. "Emma," he murmured gently, "we don't want you to see anything horrible in there. It's… not right for a child."

Emma's eyes shone with a stubborn glimmer beneath her tears. Though clearly terrified, she refused to relent.

"If you don't let me go…" Her voice trembled as she lifted the splinter toward herself once more.

Charles and Joseph locked eyes again. They were short on time, and any further argument could make Emma desperate enough to hurt herself for real.

"All right, but Joseph—don't let her out of your sight," Charles reiterated, shooting his colleague a serious look. "Keep her safe, and don't let her wander off. If she stumbles into something dangerous, it'll be trouble for all of us."

Joseph gently placed a hand over Emma's, guiding her to lower the splinter. "I promise you'll be safe. But please, don't wander around alone, okay?"

Emma gave a tiny nod. Though still trembling with fear and grief, she seemed a little calmer now.

Together, they approached the carpenter's shop, where the local guards had roped off the area. The moment they crossed the boundary, a rank odor of blood hit them. Charles inhaled sharply, bracing himself for the horror awaiting inside. Joseph walked close behind with Emma, keeping a protective arm around her shoulders.

Even from the doorway—its wooden panels splintered—the sight of the blood and gore threatened to turn anyone's stomach. Charles glanced over his shoulder at Joseph, who was still shielding Emma. The girl was trembling, tears streaming down her face.

"Emma, wait here with the officers outside," Joseph said gently, turning to Charles and Sebastian. "Let's talk strategy before we go any further."

They both nodded, and Joseph led Emma back outside to the guards. After a quiet exchange, he returned to join Charles and Sebastian near the entrance, faces set in grim determination.

"From what Emma told us in the carriage," Joseph began in a hushed voice, "her father seemed to be a Mutant-type Ascendant. At first he was normal, but then he transformed into some beast. Probably a Stage One Ascendant who got consumed by his own power."

Sebastian nodded in agreement. "Yes. She said he still managed to fight it off for a moment, which means he wasn't completely gone yet. But devouring his family and those debt-collectors temporarily sated his hunger, so he snapped back to awareness—only to be devastated by what he'd done. That kind of guilt can drive someone deeper into the power's grip. He'll likely lose himself entirely before long."

"So we have to move quickly," Charles said, running a hand along his chin. 'Before he becomes something we can't stop,' he added silently to himself.

"Sebastian," Joseph turned to him, "please coordinate with the city guard. Have them seal off this block so no one else wanders in. Then perform the concealment ritual to block off the area. Charles and I will handle the carpenter himself."

Charles glanced at Joseph. "What do you want me to do?"

"Do you know how to use a gun?" Joseph asked.

"Somewhat. I've practiced a bit, but I'm no sharpshooter."

Joseph pulled a revolver from his coat and offered it. "This revolver is more accurate than the flintlock pistols most people use. If you see him and get a clear shot—take it."

Charles accepted it, feeling the added heft compared to typical guns. He curled his fingers around the grip.

"But what if he starts transforming?" Charles asked. "Wouldn't that make him harder to hit?"

"If you see him about to shift," Joseph said, "use your power to distract him for a moment. That'll give us an opening to strike."

Sebastian added, "When it's over, I'll crystallize his Soulstone so it doesn't turn into a cursed object."

They laid out their plan: Sebastian would make arrangements with the city guard. Joseph and Charles would stand by, then move in to confront James once the area was sealed.

After a flurry of preparations, the guards started sprinkling a thin powder around the scene, following Sebastian's instructions. Charles and Joseph waited, Charles's fingers tight on the revolver, the other hand hovering near his pocket. Joseph offered a quick tip:

"If you want maximum accuracy, use both hands on the grip. It'll help steady your aim."

Charles nodded, repositioning himself so he held the gun with a firm, two-handed stance, eyes fixed on the silent, ruined workshop. Then Sebastian came jogging back.

"Ready?" he asked, his expression grim.

Charles and Joseph nodded and stepped inside. The metallic stench of blood assailed them the instant they crossed the threshold. Both men steeled themselves against the wave of nausea that threatened to rise.

Once a warm, bustling workshop filled with the scent of pine shavings, it was now a horror show. Walls and floors were smeared with dark crimson. Corpses were torn apart and strewn about, half-devoured beyond recognition. The air was thick with the reek of rotting flesh.

A chill ran through Charles. He found himself thinking of his own power, fearing the possibility that if he ever lost control, he might create such a gruesome nightmare himself. 'Is this what happens when we lose ourselves to power?' he wondered, feeling a cold sweat break out across his back. 'Could I become something just as horrible?'

Sebastian was already at work, pulling out a scroll and more of the ritual powder. He unrolled the parchment on the flattest part of the floor, pouring a ring of powder around it. Then he dripped ink from a small bottle to form a circle. Next, he picked up a broken splinter of wood from the debris and threw it onto the parchment. The splinter rattled as though drawn by an unseen force, arranging itself into a rough outline—a miniature map of the workshop.

Sebastian closed his eyes, chanting softly:

"Anaku atta gharabu eli kullatu anantu bashu sharru atta ina kullatu bashu anaku chaplitu shuzu ramanu atta shaharu ghatamu bitu annu ishtu kullatu inu kullatu kissu kullatu temu zabanu bitu annu kima bitu pirichtu…"

When the incantation ended, he tossed the last handful of powder into the circle, completing the ritual.

All at once, Emma came rushing in, having slipped free from the guards' supervision. The girl darted past them just as Sebastian flung the powder onto the parchment.

In that instant, every door and window in the workshop slammed shut—sealing the building entirely. No exits remained. Everyone inside was now trapped…

…including Emma.