Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: S2. Resentment Wished Upon the Stars -5
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Abraham's pupils trembled. It was the bewilderment of someone confronted with the unexpected. He had painted the image of his daughter returning every night in his dreams, but his star-like intellect knew full well that it would never happen.
Thus, the bewilderment.
Abraham carefully chose his words. Had she left that religion? Was she still clinging to strange beliefs? Had she suffered any hardships?
But after peering into Isaac's eyes, he realized such questions were pointless. The eyes are windows to the soul, and within hers lurked only one thing. A blinding white that shattered human reason. Boiling froth.
So the old man had no choice but to ask the obvious.
"Have you been well...?"
Isaac smiled. It wasn't the smile of a daughter delighted by her gentle father's concern, but more like watching a monkey caper behind iron bars.
"Yes, I've been just fine, Father. My soul is fuller than ever before in life, and I'm truly making every day meaningful. It's all thanks to you."
"......"
"Are you still counting those meaningless stars? Just clumps of distant gas and dust, rocks drifting through the cosmos."
"They're not meaningless, dear. Everything in the world has meaning."
"You're still blind to what truly matters, Father."
Their words were gentle in tone, but the atmosphere and their gazes made it impossible to see this as a father-daughter conversation. Tara wedged herself between them, as if to shield Abraham.
"...Who are you."
"I'm late on introductions. My name is Isaac. And you?"
"...Tara."
"And you all?"
Isaac's gaze shifted to Bennett and Niore. Bennett swallowed hard at the sharp, ominous chill, while Niore sensed the universe in her stare.
Darkness, that hair-raising void of pitch black, present yet absent, absent yet there. Swollen like an egg, or shrunken like a heart collapsing in on itself. A grotesque cosmos that human perception could only glimpse in fragments.
"...Ah. You too?"
As if she had sensed it as well. Isaac's face bloomed with genuine laughter—not her earlier mocking smirk, but joy bubbling from the soul.
She approached with leisurely steps, took both of Niore's hands, and pressed a courteous kiss to them, brimming with affection.
"I'm so glad to meet you. What's your name?"
"......"
Niore mumbled vacantly. As if that sufficed, Isaac nodded. A silent communion unfolded.
But it was one-sided. Through atmosphere and gesture, Isaac groped at Niore like one exploring the unknown, conveying something distant yet wicked. Her piercing gaze stabbed like a man's courtship of a beautiful woman.
And just as she leaned in to say more—
"Get away!"
Smack!
Bennett swatted Isaac's hand aside. He wrapped an arm around Niore's shoulders and retreated two steps. To protect her. It had looked like a white serpent baring its fangs at Niore.
Isaac put on a feigned pout, stroking her struck hand as if it pained her.
"I came back because I had nowhere proper to stay. Since you welcomed these strangers so warmly, surely you'll welcome your daughter who just stepped out for a bit and returned... right, Father?"
"...Yes, your room has always been kept ready."
Isaac's eyes flicked toward Tara—and the clothes of hers that Tara wore.
"But right now, it doesn't seem like that room is meant for me. I'm fine, Father. I can forgive you for not believing I'd come back."
"I... even dreamed of you returning."
"Your words and actions don't match. The storage room is enough for me. Feel free to keep using my room. Ta-ra. Enjoy your meal."
Isaac gave a light bow and ascended the stairs to the second floor. She headed to the storage room in the hallway corner where Bennett had stayed, opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it behind her.
No one moved until her white afterimage faded away.
Abraham's face twisted in agony. The pitiful old stargazer, who covered his face with wrinkled hands, let out a lament.
"I shouldn't have shown Isaac the stars..."
It was the kind of belated regret no human could escape.
Isaac melted seamlessly into their daily routine. Unlike her sharp-edged arrival on the first day, she played the role of the perfect, polite daughter without fail—cooing sweetly at Abraham, asking Niore if she needed anything else.
She paid special attention to Niore, striking up conversations first, inquiring after her well-being. She laughed at Niore's words and acted deeply moved. Warm phrases, unwavering kindness.
Yet everyone present knew it was all an act. Outwardly harmonious, but beneath the surface simmered taut tension.
As if something might erupt at any moment.
But there was no way to intervene. Abraham seemed genuinely happy, even if it rang false. His long-estranged daughter returning and acting affectionate was a dream he could only visit in sleep.
So neither Bennett nor Tara could make a move. Bennett still carried the weight of that late-night talk with Abraham. Tara didn't want to see him grieve again.
All they could manage were indirect measures—surveillance, precautions.
The silver lining amid the misfortune: the intruder's arrival had, for now, thawed things between Tara and Bennett.
"If she pulls anything shady, we'll know. I've warded the storage room threshold with magic, rigged Abraham's room, prepped a surveillance familiar. Even tucked a rat pup in the ceiling."
"I layered on 'Curse Ward' too... but didn't you say you'd ditch Abraham if push came to shove? You're putting in more effort than I expected. What's your angle?"
"...Just think that Isaac woman's dangerous. Her eyes weren't right."
"Yeah, whatever... You're on watch today, right?"
"Don't foist it off slyly. That's you."
Time slipped by to the afternoon of the fifth day.
Their return date loomed. Tara had pushed for a university tour with Abraham today; Bennett agreed, sensing the need for intel. They broached it at the meal table.
"Abraham, mind if we tour the university?"
"Got an interest in the university?"
"Yeah. Things we want to check out."
"More like the library, I bet. Sounds good. Stick around till my class ends... I can show you around myself. Let's head out."
Abraham agreed readily, and the group set off for Miskatonic University. As they gathered their things for the outing—Tara insisting on carrying Abraham's bag, sparking a playful tussle—Bennett noticed Niore.
She poked listlessly at her food, her expression oddly vacant. He nudged her shoulder. She turned without a startle.
"Hear that? We're going to Miskatonic University."
[Ah, yes. I heard.]
"If you're not up to it... better to tag along anyway. Wouldn't want an ambush while you're vulnerable. If you're wiped, I'll carry you. Worst case, we fall back to the hideout from the report..."
[I'm fine. Just a rough night sleeping. Besides, places like the library need my skills, right?]
Bennett nodded. Niore's eye for minute details shone in investigations, sifting intel in seconds. She'd prove useful again.
Her off demeanor worried him, but leaving her alone was worse. And so, they piled into the noisy contraption called a car with Abraham and rumbled toward Miskatonic University.
Tara pestered to try driving; Bennett shot her down as nonsense. Amid the clamor, Niore stayed silent. Her whiteboard and pen lay still.
Niore's strange behavior stemmed from the night before.
#4: Temptation
Late at night, a whisper slithered into Niore's ear. Come here. Come here. She stirred from shallow sleep and scanned the room, but only Tara snored softly nearby.
Come here.
The voice in her head even pointed the way. Niore pegged it as some spell. Cautiously, she slipped from the room and followed its pull.
She arrived at the storage room at the hall's end.
Niore knocked softly. The door eased open. Inside stood Isaac, stretching languidly in the shimmering moonlight. She smiled with maternal warmth and spoke.
"Do you believe in God?"
[I believe He exists, but I don't have faith.]
"Ever seen God up close?"
[No.]
"What a shame."
Isaac's eyelids fluttered with regret as she gazed at the vast night sky beyond the window. Niore followed her look. No lookout patrolled the yard tonight.
The woman in white murmured, lost in religious fervor.
"Humans can't comprehend God. Our senses are too crude. Ears catch only the tiniest sliver of frequencies; eyes miss colors beyond the rainbow."
[......]
"But very rarely... some are born with the luck to glimpse more. Chosen ones who see what others can't—people close to God. Like me. Like you. We may never grasp the whole, but those fragments? We can."
She seemed utterly convinced of her own chosen status. That conviction fueled her zeal. Rubbing her thighs together, eyes alight like a lover's, Isaac sent a gaze of adoration to the night sky.
That cloying affection. A sticky desire that, if possible, would tangle tongues right then. Emotions churning into a single, turbid flower. Bubbling froth.
Niore knew its name: fanaticism.
"I hope you taste this joy too... It's the perfect time right now..."
Isaac offered her a book. Bound in some foul leather, it oozed menace. Stroking its cover felt unnaturally warm, as if from living skin.
Niore nodded quietly, tucked it away, and left the room.
[......]
Niore wasn't mad. She had indeed felt vertigo at the universe's vast drop, awe at its grandeur. But she had zero intention of hurling everything away for it.
This world or her original one—inescapable forces had always loomed. Imperial might, those walking monstrosities transcended by sublimation, the death awaiting everyone. All equally beyond human sway.
She simply believed saving lives was right, harming them wrong. She had the courage to stake her body on that creed. And so.
She would read this ominous tome, extract its secrets. To aid Bennett and Tara. Abraham. Perhaps... even Isaac.
Niore opened the book in the corner of her room.
Memories of that night grew hazy.