Chương 17: Voices Do Not Age When You Live Outside Reality

At two in the morning, everything seemed strange at MinouseMart; anyone with a minimum of decency quickly became irritated walking through the aisles filled with green tea while simultaneously inhaling the scent of lemon bleach that remained ingrained in the floor.

Near the exit was a shelf with floor detergents; lavender and ocean were the featured scents, and only the customers who came in sober would stop to think about why no store employee washed the floor with a detergent that had a more pleasant and less numbing smell. But there was good news to keep Soren from falling asleep at the counter.

While working his shift, he was interrupted by small doses of chaos: suddenly a drunk salaryman bounced into the store and bought eight energy drinks with the satisfaction of someone who had found gold in the fridge; then a teenager tried to sneakily steal a gaming magazine, but quickly gave up when Soren merely looked at him.

Later, a woman walked into the store with the face of someone who had just stepped out of a horror movie; she slammed her hands on the counter and desperately asked, screaming, for directions to a street that did not exist in Tokyo. In other words, just another day at the office for Soren. It was time to restock the ramen bowls on the shelves; on the main rack, there were empty spaces to fill, a few ramen bowls to align, and a bit of dust to wipe away.

In the early hours of this morning, Soren was restocking the chicken flavor with a peculiar movement; he looked like Rafiki lifting Simba in the movie The Lion King. For his mind was definitely somewhere else; lifting ramen bowls had become an automatic movement. He couldn't get Elian out of his head; distancing himself from those thoughts was a complicated mission.

Soren recalled the time when they were allies, his mind wandering through his old world, remembering how the two of them fought together, until the day when the only way to save the universe was to make the monumental decision to seal the crown in their souls through a ritual.

The two of them defended their world with all their skills, together defeating empires and anomalies that came from the Void, and in palaces the size of Shibuya, they debated the nature of humanity's existence, while entire civilizations crumbled around them like falling dominoes. But, that time, Elian had gone too far; rituals must be followed with strict rigor, especially when dealing with entities of absolute power.

Despite the passing of centuries, his memory remained in excellent shape, for Soren perfectly remembered the mythical phrase Elian said to him the night before the ritual:"The crown is not a prison, Soren, it is a resource of absolute power. Why should we contain that which we can use freely?"

Elian was faithful to her belief; she tried to accelerate this integration at all costs, forcing the percentages to rise, becoming what the crown wanted the containers to become; however, the consequences were severe, and through these acts of madness, she had nearly destroyed half of Asia. Soren believed that the sealing of the crown was inevitable to save the universe; he had always believed that, and he did not let himself be deluded by other temptations.

It was the only way to protect a world that had never realized how close it had come to its end. It was then that the vibration of his phone interrupted his deep thoughts; Soren turned his head while still holding a ramen bowl in both hands above his head, placed the bowl on the shelf, and walked over to the counter. The phone was hot, and its vibrating made the counter drawer shudder like a drill piercing wood; the number pattern was different from the others, even different from the government number's pattern.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. It was an older encryption, routed through clandestine servers; perhaps it was a retired hacker playing a bad joke, or a financial scam directed at a completely wrong target, since this contact only earned minimum wage. Soren looked around; two cockroaches under the chest freezer, and zero customers present in the store. And it was at that moment that he answered the call.

"Hello, Soren." A charming voice, warm to the point of being able to steal the heart of any human being; her delicacy pronounced each word with care, and nothing in her voice had changed. Of course it hadn't; voices do not alter when they only exist outside of reality.

"Elian, how long has it been?" Soren replied, the hand holding his phone beginning to tremble upon confirming this reunion. She let out a laugh in an evil tone.

"Did you recognize my technique in Shinjuku? Wow, I'm truly flattered. It seems you've learned something lately, Soren." The line wasn't stable at all; another interference occurred on the call. Soren pulled the phone away from his ear; it had emitted a very sharp beep that almost sounded like the store's alarm. Wherever it was she was calling from, the connection was terrible; many cut-outs and a lot of interference impaired the quality of that conversation.

"You've been quite busy. You're working at a convenience store now? Seriously? I thought you'd at least be a millionaire and enjoying life on an island."

"The store is a rather peaceful place, Elian. Something you certainly wouldn't understand; you couldn't last a single day performing this job."

"I disagree, Soren." Elian feigned shock at his comment. The call was interrupted by yet another interference.

"You know very well that I would have to be the owner of the store; at the very least, you can be sure there would never be any complaints."

"Yes, Elian, perhaps there wouldn't even be any customers."

"Soren, pay attention." Elian now used her serious tone.

"I didn't come to fight, or rather, at least for now I don't want to waste my time with that. Now, what I wanted you to know is that I am back in this world; my first mission is complete." Elian let out a small laugh.

"I also wanted you to realize that the sealing failed completely. Don't think it was because of me, Soren; Voyéd is approaching, and you know very well that, next to his return, our differences are almost insignificant."

"Elian, do you expect me to believe that? That the King of the Void is returning?"

"What I expect, Soren, is for you to do your investigation." Soren felt a trace of nostalgia in her voice, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

"You were always prudent, Soren." Suddenly, another burst of interference on that call.

"You should investigate the patterns of the fissures; if you notice the increase in frequencies, the characteristics are unusual, and notice one thing: the System is scared because of you, in all the world it has never been scared like this."

"What are you planning, Elian?"

"To survive, obviously. As I always have, Soren." Her voice said this as if she were amusing herself with her own answer.

"We will talk again soon, Soren. Look, and try not to get too attached to those government friends of yours; you know, they won't understand what is coming."

"Beep, beep, beep." The call ended. Soren remained motionless at the counter, still with the phone to his ear, now scalding his face and hand, though that no longer made a difference to him. That phone felt like it weighed more than a 40-kilo dumbbell, and he finally placed it on the counter, careful not to damage the counter.

Outside, behind the storefront window, an elderly couple was arguing at the top of their lungs, blaming each other for not having paid the electricity bill; out of curiosity, they looked inside the store and spotted the employee staring at his phone with the face of someone who had just learned the apocalypse was arriving in two hours.

The old folks looked at each other and immediately stopped their argument; they decided it was best to pay their electricity bill at a store where a slightly more decent person could serve them. And they went on their way. Voyéd is approaching; while recalling that horrifying creature, he remained still beside the phone, which had already cooled down and returned to its normal weight. Now Soren could not work the day shift; it was impossible for him to do a straight week surrounded by this chaos.

Behind his chest, the crown moved; it was listening, also waiting for what was to come.