Clinically dead

"And what's your theory about the fabrics?"

Edward was still worried about his grade, so he decided to pay closer attention without asking too many questions.

"Well, my theory is that even objects of this caliber—practically divine—are still subject to the cause-meaning relationship. Therefore, they must have an origin, a meaning from which they take form. Which brings me to my next point."

Cain pointed with the wooden plank at the drawing of a figure painting on a blank canvas.

"The human figure represents the General, and since it's painted on a blank canvas, it symbolizes him taking my soul from the Hall of Wanderers and inserting it into this body."

He then gestured toward the last drawing with the plank.

"Finally, the knife piercing the heart represents him manipulating my soul and sealing the fate of the original soul that once inhabited this body."

"But there's one thing I don't understand," Edward said with genuine curiosity. "Why is the knife black and the heart gray with dark brown?"

Just as Cain was about to answer, the rustling of bushes and the sound of tearing flesh echoed through the air.

The man and the young boy exchanged glances before walking straight toward the source of the noise.

The objects Cain had conjured from thin air began slowly disintegrating.

The closer they got, the louder and clearer the sound became.

A few steps away, Cain signaled for Edward to stop as his eyes began glowing with a radiant light.

At that moment, a plasma ball shot straight toward him.

The man swiftly raised his arm, and an illusory shield formed in front of him, blocking the impact.

An indistinguishable figure burst from the bushes, lunging at Cain with inhuman speed.

Just before impact, the man's form shattered and reassembled behind a tree, then immediately began singing the chorus of a hymn in perfect harmony.

At first, the words were unintelligible, but gradually, they became clear:

"Her form is unmatched, even among the most worthy.

They fear her, yet she alone knows the truth.

Before her eyes, all hypocrites shall reveal their signs.

She shall prosper, and a new era of peace and happiness will come."

The figure's movements slowed exponentially until it froze completely, collapsing to the ground.

The whole time, Edward had been hiding in the bushes. Seeing the figure fall, he cautiously approached.

"Is it… dead?" the boy asked, seeming to expect confirmation rather than denial.

"No, only clinically dead."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"If it were truly dead, it would already be wandering the Hall of Wanderers. It can still return to life."

"You can do that?"

"No, I'm not a god. But I know one who can."

"And you're only telling me this now… wow." Edward didn't know what to expect from the man anymore.

"The best revelations are saved for last."

Cain clasped his hands together and began reciting words in an unfamiliar language—what sounded like a prayer.

The indistinct figure began glowing with an unnatural light before vanishing from the spot.

"Where did it go?"

"To God. Literally."

"May it rest in peace." Edward also clasped his hands, pretending to pray for the girl's soul—though he wasn't actually doing so.

Cain looked at him and asked:

"Do you know who she was or where she came from?"

"Why should I?" Edward found the question odd.

"Well, you live around here, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I don't go around looking for strangers in these woods. In fact, if I saw someone like that, I'd probably run—because they'd almost certainly have bad intentions. We are in the middle of a desolate forest, remember?"

"Just a question. From what I could tell, it was a girl."

"How could you tell? I couldn't make out any features."

"Little things you pick up after living so long."

"Not a convincing reason."

"Keep this up, and there'll be no make-up exam."

Edward fell into absolute silence.