At first glance, the shrine looked ordinary—quiet, untouched, reverent. Just like any other.
Torii gate, temizuya, an offering box... All of it constant.
Consistent.
But as Riku and Akio stood on the outside of the perimeter, they knew this shrine was anything but normal.
Akio was the first to speak up. "Alright, let's go back to the beginning."
Riku responded. "Therein lies the rub. I don't know what the beginning even is anymore."
Akio sucked his teeth in. "Honestly, I don't blame you in feeling that way." He sighed.
The morning light had returned, but it hadn't brought warmth with it. The air was brittle, like it could shatter under a raised voice.
Around them, the shrine grounds remained deathly still, as though time had opted to skip this place entirely. Not even insects dared to crawl across the gravel. Whatever had happened inside the haiden—whatever had been summoned or awakened—left a residue that clung to the air like ash.
Akio's eyes scanned the perimeter with practiced caution. "What we saw back there wasn't just an apparition," he muttered, almost to himself. "That was something anchored. Something that had been festering for a long time."
He squatted near the torii gate and ran his fingers along the stone foundation. Glyphs—worn smooth by time—barely clung to visibility. Warding signs. Prayers. Many had been crossed out or overwritten with jagged characters that looked more like claw marks than calligraphy.
Riku stayed silent, arms crossed as he watched the breeze fail to move the nearby trees. His thoughts were loud.
What was this place before it was a shrine?
The question itched in the back of his mind, an uninvited whisper. Shrines were supposed to house spirits. Divine ones. Protective ones. But if the thing they had faced was once worshipped here… then someone, somewhere, had chosen to offer their prayers to a monster. And that realization—that people could deify something so wrong—made his stomach turn.
Akio looked up. "By the way, how'd you summon that jester? And where did he go?"
"I've been here the entire time, dumbass!" Kapaala said, standing awkwardly behind Akio.
Akio jumped. "Jeez! What the fu-"
"Oooh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Kapaala smirked.
Riku groaned. "Can you try not to piss us off for 5 minutes? Please?"
Kapaala put his hands up. "You got it, boss."
And just like that, the spirit vanished in a puff of black smoke.
Riku's eyes widened slightly, before he turned to Akio. "I don't know what he is. I don't know why he's with us. And as for how I summoned him, I don't even think I did."
Akio furrowed his brows. "He calls you his boss. That's… as close to confirmation as we'll get. He's yours." He hesitated — like his next words carried weight. Heavy, and unwelcome.
"Riku… how did you summon that thing?"
"I told you, I don't know!" Riku snapped, exasperated. "I don't even think I did!"
The jester floated beside him, unnervingly calm. It grinned with bone and nothing else, head cocked at an impossible angle — as if amused that they were still asking questions.
Akio's eyes darted around. "Damn it… Ms. Uro has the Aneka Mirror. Without it, we can't even scan him. No proper gate. No signature. No Domain reflection..."
He trailed off. A shiver passed between them.
Then the jester spoke — smooth, irreverent, mocking:
"A mirror wouldn't help. I don't have a reflection."
Akio glared. Riku froze.
A thousand thoughts were running through his head.
He had no clue of the nature of what the last handful of hours were. The shrine, Akio, the chains, the apparition, the near-death experiences.
But there's no way he had something so esoteric at his disposal. He's not like Akio. Right?
Riku scoffed before beginning. "Oh please. I'm no... Mantrik or whatever you call yourself. I-"
Akio piled on. "Then how did you switch places with that apparition? How did you disorient it? How did it attack itself?"
Riku looked down. As much as didn't want to admit it, Akio was right. So much of what happened moments ago had not been anyone's doing but that jester's. And he answered to no one but Riku. The signs were blatant, even if Riku didn't want them to be.
He turned to look at his hand again. The symbol was there. It felt as if it was grafted into his skin like an ominous reminder of fate.
That the future wouldn't be kind.
"I don't like it." Riku finally said, his voice low. "I don't like that he came from me."
Akio glanced at him. "You mean the jester? Kapaala?"
"Yeah. That… thing. He's unstable. Mocking. Dangerous." Riku's jaw clenched. "It's like he's enjoying all of this. The death, the madness." Riku looked down and clenched his fist.
"He called himself a trickster. I think the psychotic laughs and unstableness come with the territory at this point." Akio replied.
Riku shook his head. "That's not funny."
Akio exhaled, lips tightening. "Look, I get it. You didn't ask for him. But you're not the only one who's uneasy. Every Mantrik's Bhāṇḍa has a will of its own. You either learn how to deal with it, or it eats you alive."
"Reassuring," Riku muttered.
"I'm serious. The fact that you're aware of the danger? That already puts you ahead of the curve. Most people just give in. But you…" Akio gestured broadly. "You made that thing fight. And he did."
"I didn't make him do anything. All that happened was me switching places with the apparition after I..." Riku rubbed his forehead, face tightening. "... after I... made light of the situation so to speak. Then boom. The Clown showed up."
Akio blinked. "So, you summoned a death jester by joking about your own mortality."
Riku looked up. "Don't say it like that."
Akio looked up at Riku, concern and a hint of awe filling his eyes. The absurdity of making light of death wasn't something that would strike even the most hardened of minds, and yet, there they were.
A faint wind rustled the air, but nothing moved. The shrine still felt wrong. Like the Silent God was still watching.
Akio's expression sobered. "Jokes aside… we need to come up with something. I don't know if that thing's gone for good. And even if it is, whatever drew it out the first time might still be here."
"We couldn't hurt it," Riku said. "And I barely survived. You didn't do much better."
Akio nodded slowly. "No obvious weaknesses. No physical body to wound. It ignored my chains, kinetic force, even my empowered vows. It's like… like it didn't exist in our frame of logic."
"But it did react to Kapaala," Riku noted.
Akio's eyes lit up. "Yeah, it did! That's what I've been thinking about. Whatever Kapaala... is, he confused it, and not only that, but it's also the only thing that caused the apparition to take damage. It became aware of itself. Its state of being. Vulnerable, almost."
Riku pondered on it. That notion wasn't wrong at all. Despite Akio's physical prowess and the chains, he could conjure, the apparition didn't budge. It only retreated the first time because it was near the haiden. This time around, it was hurt. And while it was a bitter pill to swallow, Riku knew that Kapaala was their good chance at winning.
Riku crossed his arms. "Then we don't fight the apparition. We force it to unravel."
Akio snapped his fingers. "Yes! It's like pulling a thread in a knot. Make it think. Make it reflect. Introduce variables it can't control—things like paradoxes, absurdities. Maybe that's what Kapaala does."
"So, killing it with unpredictability?" Riku asked.
"Now you're getting it!" A familiar voice came from nowhere.
Kapaala reappeared, levitating above the ground. He was in a supine position, twirling a coin between his fingers, his mouth twisted in an exaggerated pout.
"So, now you want me back. After you banish me with your disapproval?" He sniffled dramatically. "Truly, I'm hurt."
Riku rolled his eyes. "Were you eavesdropping this entire time?"
"I never leave, sunshine," Kapaala grinned. "If I'm not with you physically, I'll be in your head, making you feel like you wanna scratch your brain out! But keep talking. It's adorable watching you try to plan your way out of a fever dream. Oh, and by the way. If you have whatever it is you snorted before today, I'd like some for uh... research purposes." He smiled like a toddler who was playing dress up.
Riku glared at him. "We're working with what we got. Unfortunately, that includes you."
"Awww. You do care," Kapaala giggled. "Say the word, boss, and I'll be your jester, your executioner, your court-appointed trauma therapist."
"We need more than just enthusiasm and sarcasm." Akio muttered.
"I heard that, jeweler!" Kapaala said, standing up with exaggerated offense. "I'm entropy made charming. Paradox made palatable. Why follow the rules, when it's more fun when they're broken?"
Riku blinked. "Okay. So if we want to use you against the Silent God… what do you need?"
Kapaala tilted his head. "Permission."
"Permission?"
"To do what I do. Push too far, and your mind cracks. Push too little, and the God slaps us out of existence. But give me the space, the trust. And I guarantee you… it will bleed."
Riku hesitated.
Akio gave him a look. "You already brought him out once. Might as well use him."
Riku nodded slowly, then turned to Kapaala. "Alright. You have my permission. But one screw-up, and you'll never see the light of day again."
Kapaala glowed. "Excellent! Smile for the camera boys!"
***
As they walked past the torii gate, there was a sense of foreboding that Riku couldn't help but feel. Things were... different. Changed.
Wrongly so.
First and foremost, thin cracks etched themselves across the base of the torii gate like veins of dried blood. Earlier in the day, that wasn't the case.
They made their way inside, and Riku couldn't help but notice something off. Some of the stone had already started to wither away. Stone that hours earlier was almost unperturbed and clean. That didn't seem possible.
Then they walked past the temizuya, and that's where it was glaringly obvious. The temizuya's water turned black. It wasn't some weird angling or lighting. Black. Pitch black and appeared to be much more viscous.
Riku rubbed his eyes and shook his head, continuing on with Akio.
Oh great... Now, I'm seeing things. I need some Pepto Bismol after all of this is over
Kapaala stifled a laugh. Riku snapped his head towards the jester with a glare.
Suddenly—
Riku didn't even have time to shout before something stepped out of the haiden—not walked, stepped. A moment before, there had been only shadows and broken prayer tags flitting on the wind. Now, a silhouette crawled across the wooden platform like spilled oil learning to move.
"Is that it?" Riku asked, his voice low.
Akio drew his chains. "That's definitely it."
The shrine's inner sanctum groaned as the figure unfolded. No face. No limbs. Just an amorphous smear of darkness wrapped in crumbling talismans and defiled scripture. As it moved, it whispered in fractured syllables, prayers turned inside-out.
Riku stepped back. "Okay. Time for a new plan."
"No can do, boss! Same plan!" Kapaala said, cracking his nonexistent knuckles.
The shadow surged forward. Chains shot from Akio's sleeves, aiming for the center of mass, but the thing swerved with unnatural grace, avoiding every link. Akio clicked his tongue and rolled aside, barely dodging a spike of shadow bursting from the ground.
Kapaala danced into the fray, cackling like a madman.
"Let's unravel you, sweetheart."
He snapped his fingers and withing a moment, the ground beneath the apparition caved beneath it, before turning into a kaleidoscope of mirrors—each reflecting the apparition, distorted and wrong. One showed it crumbling like paper. Another displayed it weeping blood from nonexistent eyes. A third, for the briefest moment, showed a human silhouette kneeling in prayer.
The entity screamed—an awful screeching noise that bent the air.
It lashed out at the mirrors, but the reflections moved independently, darting in and out like moths made of memory. The shrine groaned again, shutters slamming shut despite no wind.
Akio looked at Riku. "It's agitated. But I don't know how much longer this place will hold out!"
Riku grit his teeth. "We need to push it further."
"I'm working on it!" Kapaala sang, snapping both fingers this time. "Don't rush the art!"
The mirrors shifted—dozens of them splitting into kaleidoscopic shards that surrounded the apparition. Each one flickered with warped memories: distorted prayers, ancient offerings, and shadows of worshippers crying out for salvation that never came.
The apparition convulsed. Its shape flickered violently, limbs forming and unforming, as if unsure what it wanted to be. From its back, mangled wings of script stretched out and broke apart like torn parchment. Blood—no, ink—leaked from its core, bleeding directly into the air.
"It's unraveling!" Akio called out, readying another volley of chains. "Keep going!"
Riku took a breath. He didn't know what he could do. He didn't have chains. He didn't have any technique. But Kapaala was his. Somehow. That had to count for something.
An inky spike shot from the entity, headed straight for Riku. There was nothing in Riku's mind but the instinct to move. To be anywhere except the line of fire.
The world disappeared from his eyes, and just like that it reappeared, but this time, he was somewhere else.
Instead, Kapaala was in Riku's position and with a grin, the spike reversed its trajectory back into the murky body of the apparition.
It shrieked—the sound like unclipped fingernails dragging along a chalkboard.
Kapaala winked at Riku. "See? I'm yours to serve."
Riku exhaled, something he didn't know he wasn't doing for a while now. "Did... we do it?"
Akio hesitated. "No. That's not right—"
The silence shattered.
With an eruption of shadow, the apparition burst outward, its distorted body writhing like a snake set on fire. All the mirrors shattered in one psychic scream, launching glass and smoke in every direction. Kapaala was thrown back, crashing through a cracked pillar with a squeal of theatrical pain.
"Kapaala!!" Riku turned, only to find himself face-to-face with the creature. Somehow, it had teleported. One second it was across the shrine. The next—it was inches from him.
It hadn't unraveled.
It had baited them.
A twisted limb launched at Riku's chest like a spear.
Riku tried to move, but he was a heartbeat too slow.
I'm dead...
Then—
A blur of scarlet cut the air in half.
A single strike, elegant and merciless, sliced through the creature's limb like it was smoke.
A cyclone of crimson petals erupted around Riku, swirling in a vortex of radiant force. They weren't flowers. They were weapons—each petal edged with death.
The creature reeled back, shrieking as the wind carved into it. Riku stumbled, catching a glimpse of the figure standing in front of him now.
She was graceful and still, like a blooming lotus frozen mid-motion. Her uniform was battered but pristine, adorned with gold threading and the insignia of what was on Akio's red jacket.
The sign of the Mantrik Order.
Her voice was calm, but sharp. "Move."
Riku scrambled behind her, stunned. He didn't know whether to thank her, stare, or apologize for almost dying in front of her.
"Wh—Who the hell—?"
The girl didn't respond. She took a single, measured breath.
Then—
"Scarlet Lotus: Blooming Whirlwind."
"Scarlet Lotus: Blooming Whirlwind." The petals surged forward, drilling through the apparition with surgical precision, every edge a silent scream of intent.
The winds howled, not with force—but with intent. It was technique made grace, violence turned into art.
Each motion she made—every step, every sweep—was a petal in a larger bloom.
The apparition screamed.
Then silence.
Riku could barely stand.
Akio, panting, limped forward. "Took you long enough."
The girl turned slightly. "The doctor was giving me a hard time before I got here. Gave me all the Viropāṇa Potions left. Two vials. This that bad?"
Akio nodded. "Yeah... You could say that."
"Command said this shrine was dormant. No anomalies detected. They'll reconsider that after today" Mei said.
"Hopefully. That is if we make it out alive." Akio replied.
Then he gestured to Riku. "Mei, meet Riku Shinsora. Civilian. Technically."
Riku sheepishly raised a hand, trying to say hello, but looking like a beggar who wanted some alms.
She looked at him with sharp eyes. "You brought a civilian into a Mantrik case?! Akio, are you-"
Akio responded before she could finish. "I know, it seems highly irresponsible! But truth be told, I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for him. And if we want a chance at solving this case, then we need him."
As if on cue, Kapaala materialized behind Riku again, brushing off spectral dust. "I am a damn delight, thank you very much."
Riku looked back at the jester. In the back of his mind, he was actually happy Kapaala wasn't hurt.
Mei raised an eyebrow. "What… is that thing?"
Riku and Akio blanked. Where would they even begin?
Mei sighed and turned back to Akio. "This is already a nightmare."
"Welcome to my last twenty-four hours." Riku muttered.
Akio rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Riku, this is Mei Hazakura. She's my junior partner in the Mantrik Order."
Kapaala waved mockingly. "Hi, I'm a huge fan!"
Mei's eyes narrowed at the jester. She looked like the definition of, "If looks could kill." Her black hair traveled down to her shoulders, and her black eyes were fierce yet controlled. Her skin was not that of someone of her age and stature. They were rough and calloused, as if centuries of combat had chipped away at it.
As she finished talking, another scream bellowed through the shrine. Riku had to cover his ears in fear of rupture.
The apparition came into formation once more; its eyes set on the three.
Mei creaked her neck. "Buckle up gentlemen. This might take a while."