11. Wonderland (37)
11. Wonderland (37)
The pace of their footsteps quickened the farther they climbed from that underground hollow.
They'd been composed just a moment ago, but now they were drenched in cold sweat, their faces so pale they looked ready to vomit at any second. Every sight, sound, smell, and sensation they'd experienced down there was only now catching up to them, gnawing at their stamina and willpower.
The instant they stepped outside the Judicial Theater, that crushing pressure lifted. Everything felt crisp and clean.
"Haah, haah... what the hell was that?"
"Ughh, my head is splitting."
The group exchanged glances. They looked like absolute death.
Minova shook his rooster comb as he muttered,
"Feels like a hangover. You don't notice while you're drunk, but the real pain starts when you sober up."
"This is the psychic attack that giant fairy mentioned?"
"At least he said they'll play the lullaby on the surface. That's a relief."
They took a while to catch their breath in the open air, then used their entry tickets to move to the Falcon's Nest. According to the Apostles, it was a good place to practice the lullaby, being on the top floor and on the verge of closing.
"Living acrobats! Welcome to the Falcon's Nest!"
Chen Hawk, who'd been contacted by the Apostles in advance, came out in a subdued suit to greet them.
Ella folded her arms and regarded him with open disapproval.
"Tch, you've got some nerve. You sold us out once already... Is that really how a theater owner should behave?"
At her words, Hawk held both hands out, as if to acknowledge his shame.
"Ha ha, my apologies. The Apostles gave me a direct order. I couldn't refuse. Please forgive me."
"Tch, fine. We did a little deceiving ourselves."
"Speaking of which, I never imagined Apostle Strauss would ask you to perform his new piece."
Chen Hawk didn't know Kirkeus's true identity. He assumed they'd been released as part of some judicial arrangement — the five living performers providing a joint recital in exchange.
As the owner of the Falcon's Nest, he swore he would assist them with everything he had for the duration of their stay.
The five acrobats, still reeling from their encounter with Kirkeus, went straight into rehearsal. Hobbs and Minova, who had experience with instruments, took the lead in guiding them. Lord Fantastic, unfortunately, still hadn't woken, so they had to leave him lying in a room.
-That's odd. In the old days, this much would've snapped him out of it... He must've really gotten old.
Diamond Queen seemed disappointed at not being able to talk more with her pupil. Whether the pupil shared that disappointment was another question entirely.
While they practiced, Rumi took Clara to A Midsummer Night's Circus. Now that Oberon was back, she wanted to ask him to properly restore Clara's mind.
And so everyone scattered to their respective tasks, leaving Scarecrow alone by himself.
He didn't mind. He settled into a seat in the Falcon's Nest audience, looked down at Cadsun, and passed the time sorting through the intelligence they'd gathered beneath the Judicial Theater.
Cross-referencing it with the information from the games made some points sharper — and others murkier.
For starters, the Apostles' conclusions about the Voodoo Cult had their share of holes. They claimed the Madosa they'd captured had known little, but looked at from another angle, those kinds of people were exactly the sort you'd use as disposable pawns.
By the time of TT3, the Voodoo Cult was operating with a clear stance that they didn't care if the world itself ended. At least, that was the attitude of the executives and the Three Witches.
They weren't merely playing henchmen for other Demon Gods.
After weighing every factor coldly, he concluded that nothing about his operational plan needed revising.
The mission remained the same: enter the Circus Grand Prix.
Just as his thoughts were settling into that conclusion, Ella abruptly thrust her face into his.
"Hey, let's go have some fun!"
"You're done practicing already?"
"They called it a lullaby to put Chaos to sleep, so I was really looking forward to it, but it's barely anything. Hardly any verses. And I'm on vocals, but every single lyric is just whistling!"
Ella whistled a few bars of the lullaby for him right there.
The moment Scarecrow heard those notes, he let out a gasp.
Ella cocked her head, studying him.
"What? Why the face? Do dead people feel something when they hear it?"
"...No. It just felt... nostalgic somehow."
He felt like he was about to cry and he didn't know why.
The tune she'd just hummed was the main theme music of the Tril Trillo series.
When you first booted up TT1, that melody played on loop at the menu screen.
Scarecrow glanced toward the rehearsal room.
He'd been so deep in thought he hadn't noticed it before, but when the separate lines drifting out of there came together, it formed something unmistakably familiar.
"Are the others still practicing?"
"Reina and I are done, but Ruelo and Karen are going to need more time. Maya... is probably going to take a while. Every motion at the piano is so stiff, she's getting an earful trying to fix it. Still, I think it'll wrap up by tomorrow morning..."
"I see. Oh, so that means it's almost over. Once the performance wraps, we can go home."
At those words, Ella's expression stiffened for a split second, then she grinned and pulled at his arm.
"Which is why we should go have fun. Yeah? It's our last day in Wonderland. Hey, what, not moving? Get to it. Do your duty as a guide."
Her voice brimmed with an urgency that was sharper than usual. Maybe because, as she'd said, it was their last day.
Scarecrow dusted himself off and stood.
"All right. But didn't you say Miss Reina was finished too? Won't she be bored by herself?"
"Dunno. She said she had something else to do."
He nodded.
He and Reina hadn't exchanged more than a few words. It would probably look strange if he fretted over her now.
"Very well. Let's go. The place to have fun — a theater, obviously?"
"Of course!"
The two called a Ticketer, bought their tickets, and warped away.
Reina, watching from a window, glimpsed their figures dissolve into glittering light before she turned her gaze back to the person she was speaking with.
"So you're saying I can find my mother here."
Once her lullaby practice was done, Reina had sought out Chen Hawk to ask him about this place. For one reason: she thought her dead mother might be here.
She'd been so focused on rescuing her father she hadn't allowed herself to dwell on it, but seeing her father reunite with his dead teacher earlier had brought the thought surging back.
"A soul that owns a theater has about a 99.99% probability of arriving here after death. Someone with Inspira, around 99%. And an ordinary acrobat, maybe 30%. Your family — your mother, did you say? Did she possess Inspira?"
"Yes."
"Then better than 99%."
"What's the 1%?"
"She might have remained on the surface because of a powerful grudge or obsession. Or she might have had the misfortune of getting tangled up with some other Demon God and dragged away."
As he spoke, he hopped up onto the railing.
Reina started to her feet in alarm, but he gestured for her to sit. He'd been performing in this place for decades. This was nothing to him.
"Have the Ticketer search her name or stage name. Even if she isn't a theater owner, if she had Inspira, she'll have a registration number. It'll come up."
At his words, Reina's expression remained stiff. She fidgeted with her fingers uneasily.
"I've heard that people lose their memories the longer they stay here. I'm afraid Mother might not remember me."
Hawk laughed at that, a deep belly laugh.
"You said it's been how many years since she passed?"
"Nine."
"Ha ha, then you've nothing to worry about. Usually, memory loss doesn't set in until around the fifteen-year mark. And there's no way she'd lose a memory as important as her own daughter in that short a span. Blood relatives are connected by the soul. That's why so many people wander the outskirts of Wonderland, trying to call their dead family's souls here. Much like your guide, Mr. Scarecrow, did. The folk saying 'a person you know comes out to meet you in the afterlife' — that's where it comes from. If your mother didn't sense you even though you're in Wonderland, it's likely because you're still among the living. Having a body weakens one's spiritual powers. That's also why the living are slower to develop their Personas. So please, don't worry that she didn't seek you out because she doesn't remember you."
His confident manner filled Reina with courage.
"Thank you, Chen Hawk."
Reina bowed to him, stepped out of the theater, and summoned a Ticketer.
She took a breath, steadied herself, and had it search her mother's name and aliases.
"Solane Magier, Lady Fantastic, the String Sorceress."
"One theater matching all three has been found!"
Reina clenched her fist in triumph.
Her mother was in Wonderland. A theater owner, no less.
She had the Ticketer issue an entry ticket. But just before tearing it, she hesitated and glanced toward a corner room of the theater.
Should she really go to something this important alone? Shouldn't she bring her father?
But there was no telling when her father would wake. They would likely return home tomorrow. An opportunity like this might never come again.
She tore the ticket.
She was instantly transported to the entrance of her mother's theater.
The theater itself was plain in size and appearance. Yet it felt deeply familiar — built in an architectural style common to her hometown.
She read the words on the signboard standing beside the theater.
[Fantastic Floor]
That was its name.
She tried to enter, but the door was firmly locked and wouldn't budge. Flustered, she seized the door handle and pulled with all her strength.
At that, the children playing nearby came swarming toward her. Wearing masks of every description, they surrounded her in a vaguely menacing ring.
"Miss, what are you doing? The doors aren't even open yet."
"What?"
She examined the ticket in her hand with a bewildered look. The performance start time printed on it was still several hours away.
She'd been so consumed by the desire to see her mother quickly, she hadn't paid attention to the showtime.
She let go of the door handle and stepped back.
"Sorry... My mistake. But what connection do you all have to this theater?"
At her apology, the children relaxed and glanced at each other, giggling.
"We're students of Teacher Magier, of course! Teacher Magier teaches music to little kids for free."
"Oh... you mean the theater owner does?"
"Yes! It's break time now, so we're out here playing!"
The children pointed to a gate in the fence beside the theater.
It led into the building's back garden.
Reina felt a rush of nostalgia at the sight of that little gate. It looked so much like the fence of the manor where she'd lived with her mother before she died.
They did say Personas and theaters reflected the appearance of one's life.
It was easy for Reina to picture her mother sitting in that back garden, teaching songs to children. Even when she'd been alive, whenever children visited the manor, she would gather them together and play instruments and sing with them.
"Is that so? Then could one of you show me to her?"
At her request, the children shuffled awkwardly and mumbled. They clearly wanted to get back to their games.
Then, from among them, a little girl abruptly raised her hand.
"I'll take you!"
"Thank you."
The rest of the children scampered off to play again, and Reina followed the girl toward the back garden.
As she walked, Reina checked her outfit meticulously, hiding every detail that might give her away. Chen Hawk had been confident, but she was still terrified her mother might not remember her. Revealing her face could wait until she was certain those memories were intact.
The nearer she drew to the garden, the clearer a familiar sound became. A tune her mother had often played.
Reina clenched her fists tight with tension.
"Ah."
The moment she saw the back garden, Reina nearly collapsed to her knees.
It was nothing but an utterly ordinary garden — and yet it was a place she knew too well.
A memory she could never return to.
That space from those days.
The garden where she'd lived with her father and mother, where they'd frequently invite the neighbors over for little ensemble concerts.
Maybe her gasp had been too loud.
The music stopped short.
The woman plucking the instrument lifted her hands and looked at Reina, who had stepped into the garden.
Her face.
Though it was a translucent Spirit Body, it was unmistakably the face she had longed for — in her memories, in her dreams, in photographs.
Reina forced back the tears that threatened to spill.
First...
First, say hello... then slowly, one thing at a time, ask...
At that moment, a single word slipped from the mouth of the mother who was gazing at her.
"Reina...?"
The instant she heard that voice, Reina squeezed her eyes shut.
A voice she'd missed so much. Tears streamed down beneath her mask.
Her mother remembered her. And had recognized her instantly.
She'd even worn a pathetic mask and covered herself in clothes, but her mother had surely felt the Soul Echo that connected blood relatives.
Reina moved to take off the mask and answer her call.
"Uh..."
At that moment, the girl who had guided her here tore off her own mask and stepped forward.
And cried out,
"Mom!"
"Reina, why did you come inside during break time?"
...What?
Reina's breath stopped.