Interlude: The Library
The Library sat alone, awaiting in the vast expanse of the Outskirts.
It had been roughly a month and a week since its expulsion from the City- give or take a day or two, maybe three. Since that time, there hasn't been much to occupy the lives of the City's denizens.
Angela had formed her own Floor, shortly after the Turbulence Office's defeat, while Roland was still stuck fixing the door by hand.
The Black Silence, as excellent of a househusband as he had been to his wife, was unfortunately struggling quite a lot with taking the roles of both a carpenter and a construction worker. He almost considered going back to the City to buy a door instead of figuring out how to make one out of Light, but he reconsidered.
"Dammit!" roared the "Grade 9 Fixer," face covered in white dust. This was his eighteenth attempt into making the door fit into the damn frame.
He tried to kick the damn thing into the hole. He succeeded, but in doing so, he simply ended up lodging it inside. Now he had figure out how to place the hinges.
"Arrrgh…" he said, collapsing into the ground. "Damn door… damn Office… who the hell were these guys?"
"Sup." said Gebura, Patron Librarian of the Floor of Language.
"'Gah!"
The Grade 9 stared at his coworker. It occurred to him that he currently looked like shit. His suit was dirty, his face was dirty, damn. He really needed a bath.
"The hell are you doing?" she asked.
"Trying to get this damn door here. Took me some time until I figured out how to make it out of Light in the right way… almost wanted to go back to the City and buy a door."
The woman formerly known as Kali narrowed her eyes.
"Yeah, I can see that. But why is the door broken?"
"Some group of weirdos came here on a job. Turbulence Office or something. Broke the door and Angela had to fix it… apparently fixing it herself was below her or something? It's a pain."
"Turbulence Office? So that moron and his gang came here… and I wasn't even told shit. Eh, it checks out." mumbles Gebura behind her breath, before taking a long drag out of her cigarette.
"Eh, suppose I'd help ya. Let's get the door out first, dumbass. Kicking it into place doesn't work, trust me. Tried before."
"Really? Suppose I shouldn't be surprised-" muttered Roland, before being interrupted by a slap to the back of his head. "What was that for?"
"For talking shit at me behind my back. At least say it loud and clear." answers her, extending a hand to lift the Grade 9 up.
"Okay, ma'am. Now what am I supposed to do?" asks he.
"So, I'll magic up some hinges…"
Both of the former Fixers walk into the main lobby of the Library. Roland is cleaning sweat off his brow with a piece of cloth. Gebura looks completely unphased.
"Phew. That was a bother. At least the door's fixed now." says Roland. "Say, you knew that Sieghart guy, Gebura?"
The Color known as the Red Mist nods.
"Pretty much all of us knew each other, ya know. He's one of the oldest Colors in the business. He got started as a Fixer when he was what, 12? Yeah, he told me that last time we talked."
Roland blinked.
"He just told you that? Also, how the hell did I not hear of the guy before, if he's been working for that long? Seems really weird…"
Gebura fished around some of the bookshelves.
"It was like, one of these Hana meetings. The big ones, where we get called to remove a Star of the City." she sighs. "He mentioned it offhand, really. The Vermillion Cross asked him how many years he had of combat experience. He said 14, I think? Dude was in his twenties."
She takes one of the books from the shelves- Book of the Saviour. Then she puts it back in, and fishes out for another one. Book of Pickman. Her face twists into a sneer, and she almost slams the book back into the bookshelf.
"The Turbulence Office didn't have a big reputation. Everyone just called them clowns back in the day, and Sieg was the king of the clowns for joining up with them. They were some dead-end Grade 2 Office, then they found some big stuff in the Ruins and made it kinda big with the Steel Determination joining. They still stayed kind of obscure, because they were weird, and not the marketable kind of weird."
She leaves the half-smoked cigarette atop a bookshelf.
"Damn, it's been over a decade since I last saw him. 13 years. And I didn't really get to even call him a moron before he got his ass kicked. Who did the reception, by the way?"
Roland taps his chin.
"There were way too many of these guys. They got split up. Guess that Binah did the Sieghart guy's reception? I squared it off with a smoke gal, Malkuth got paired with her weird clone, and Chesed went with some other guys I can't remember right…" he wipes some dust off his tie. "Yeah, I think it was that. Don't really want to remember these guys, though…"
"Heh. Everyone said that. They did get the job done, though. Anything under the sun. Contract killing, bodyguarding, drug smuggling. Wonder if I should check out their books…"
All of a sudden, two other Librarians walk into the room. Both of them are very pale. One of them is pale thanks to their artificial body- the other is just pale. They are Angela, the Library's Director, and Hokma, Patron Librarian of the Floor of Religion. They look extremely nervous.
"Yo, Angela." says Roland. "Got the door fixed up. Gebura helped. Everything okay with you guys?"
Hokma shakes his head.
"Unfortunately, no. We have been the victim of a theft."
"Theft? Who'd steal from us? I don't even think they can, can they? You have to get an invitation first…" asks Roland. "I thought you couldn't get anything from here without a reception."
Angela is the one to answer his question.
"Indeed. In my Library, it is impossible to claim books that have not been earned. Or so I thought. Someone managed to hijack my invitation system, and utilized this power to produce several fraudulent invitations. I haven't found all of them yet."
The Pale Librarian's face is twisted in a rictus of annoyance. Whoever managed this feat, it profoundly annoyed her. She reveals two Invitations.
Dear Guest: I formally invite you to the library.
The Library's books can provide you with all the wisdom, wealth, honor, and power you seek.
However, an ordeal will await you in the library.
If you cannot overcome this ordeal, you will be converted into a book yourself.
The text seems the same, at a first glance. But when one looks into the lower part of these invitations- the actual hook, the Books of the Day- the adulteration is apparent. This section is obviously not normal. It looks visibly edited, modified. Like a poor counterfeit. Each one of those invitations carries different books.
"BOOKS OF THE DAY." stands on each small piece of paper, that section and the books in it each written in entirely different handwriting for every invitation.
The first invitation is without fanfare. It simply reads "Poor Screenwriter's Note." The handwriting is neat and professional, written in simple cursive.
"An Abnormality was stolen from my floor. It was one of the Abnormalities I considered testing there with my Librarians-" says Angela. "But it did not fit alongside the rest. In the end, I had it replaced by Army in Black. I thought of giving it to you, but it seems whoever this unknown assailant was, they took it first."
"I remember that one," says Gebura. "Real pain in the ass. Always ended up with at least five guys dead. Didn't we toss it in storage and forget about it?"
"We did, yes. It was deemed too unstable and overly demanding for the cycle by the current Manager. It was one of his final orders before he… hanged himself." notes Hokma.
"That… that sounds really rough." speaks Roland, eyebrow raised.
"The handwriting in this note… it is very much like his." says Angela.
"What, the writing of that A guy?" asks her friend.
The artificial human nods.
"Yes. Many of the "Managers" developed independent identities during their periods as the Manager of Lobotomy Corporation. Their memories were removed as part of the cycle, and gradually re-added." she takes a long breath- even though it is not needed. "Most of them did not maintain those identities, and returned to being "Ayin" in time. This writing belongs to one of them. One who maintained his "Self" until the day of his final death."
Roland shakes his head and takes a look at the next invitation. "Was he less awful than the other guys?"
"No." answers Angela, curt and direct. "He was exactly like all of the rest."
Roland checks out the second invitation. The handwriting is sloppy. There's even a splotch of ink on the side of the page, and the words are distorted. Did someone get this paper wet before? In the invitation, the words "The Dreaming Current"
"We found it like this." says Angela. "If you do not know, Roland, The Dreaming Current is another Abnormality. It was first assigned to the Floor of History, but it simply refused to work. Its pages had essentially no effect. Now it has been stolen."
That was really serious. Was this Ayin dude messing around with the Library? Figures that even after vanishing he'd keep causing trouble. Roland was feeling more and more annoyed by the minute.
The four of them turned their heads at a strange sound. They saw Chesed, the Patron Librarian of Social Sciences, running down the stairs towards them. He stopped right in front of Angela, then stopped to pant for a few seconds.
"What is it now? We got something important going on here, twerp." said Gebura.
Chesed lets out a shaky smile, and lifts a single index finger. "J-just wait. I just ran all the way from Social Sciences to here. It… it was a long walk. It's- it's important."
They wait for him to take a breather.
"The books of the Turbulence Office vanished." says the Patron of Social Sciences.
All four other people in the room's eyes widen. Gebura instinctively reaches for Chesed's throat, but stops herself before a fight gets started. Out of a similar instinct, Chesed dodges all the same and slams his head on the bookshelf.
"All right, all right guys, let's not start a fight here. What happened, Chesed?"
The other Librarian caresses his head. "Ow. I was doing that thing you asked me, Angela. Looking around for any trace of the stolen Abnormalities in your new Floor. I found another invitation, and then when I went down to mine discovered some books were missing. Turns out, they were the books of the Turbulence Office that I had asked for…"
"So whoever stole them wants to do stuff with Sieg. Do you know anything, Hokma?" asked Gebura. "Sounds like A has something to do with this shit."
"The previous invitation's handwriting also resembled that of a previous Manager." noted Angela. "But let me see the new one, Chesed."
"It's not going to be useful in figuring out who stole it, sorry~" says the Librarian. "Here, look at it."
As Chesed hands the piece of paper to his overseer, the other three stretch their necks to take a look at it. It is, indeed, not very elucidating in the question that is the identity of the thief.
The new invitation is completely illegible. The entire piece of paper is covered in the same word, repeated over and over. Endless repetition of the word "CENSORED," emblazoned in red censor bars, covers the paper from one side to the next.
"I have a feeling this is bad…" says Roland.
"And you would be right in that regard." answered Hokma. "This is likely the one of the worst Abnormalities they could have possibly taken."
A/N: But they were, all of them, deceived, for another Interlude was made. In the land of Google Documents, in the fires of his old, barely-functioning laptop, the Dark Lord thenew forged in secret a master Interlude, to control all others.
I am not going to be able to do the Christmas Interlude this month. So have this one. As a treat. I'm going to start Arc 2 - Under Tides soon...
