Faceless Jack drifted through the opulent Eastcliff District. It was still morning. He had just visited the graves of Linna and her mother. Two graves he had dug himself in the farthest corner of Eastcliff Cemetary.
He had visited the places several times these few days. He would like to ensure that they were not desecrated. She could be said to have been his first... friend in this world after all.
Jack continued floating. Invisible to others. Under the morning sun. Sunlight didn't really bother him. The air in this town was fresh as always. A stark contrast to the smog of Lotogear City.
The meticulously manicured garden of a sprawling villa caught his attention. For him, it was not due to its beauty. It was more for its potential secrets.
He was the Harbinger for Vengeance. Yet, he hadn't really take any action after Linna's case. He needed to start working again. Finding sinners. Avenging victims.
He phased through the high stone wall. It was a reflexive action by now. He expected to find nothing more than overpriced shrubbery.
Instead, he found two kids. No older than seven. Sitting on a meticulously placed stone bench. They were playing with some intricate clockwork toys. Twins. And they were looking directly at him.
Jack froze. His [Aura Detection Sight Mode] flared, bathing them in a weak, pale yellow. They had untapped potential, definitely. But not enough to pierce his invisibility. It shouldn't be enough.
"Hello!" One of them said. A girl. Her face was unnervingly blank.
"Good morning!" The boy added. Equally expressionless.
"Uh, hi!" Jack managed. His voice was a discordant rasp. Thanks to his [Banshee's Requiem] passively screwing with his vocal cords. The sound usually sent grown men scrambling. But these two didn't even flinch.
He willed himself into his visible default ghost form. It was a vaguely humanoid shape with no features. Just a flowing, ethereal outline. Still nothing. No surprise. No fear. Just… interest.
"I'm Adam." The boy stated.
"And I'm Alice." The girl finished.
"Faceless Jack." Jack replied. Deciding to roll with it. "So, you can see me?"
Alice nodded. Her dark eyes were unwavering. "We can always see things like you."
"Things?" Jack echoed.
Adam elaborated. "Supernatural things. Ghosts, energies, shadows… stuff like that."
"And...," Alice added, tilting her head, "... we can feel if something is...bad."
Jack narrowed his non-existent eyes. "Bad how?"
"Not good." Adam said. "Dangerous. You're not bad."
That was surprisingly reassuring. "Good to know."
An awkward silence filled the air. It was broken only by the ticking of a nearby ornamental clock.
"So?" Alice chirped. "What's it like being a ghost?"
That was… unexpected. "It's complicated," Jack said. He tried to keep the underlying snark out of his voice.
"Sometimes it's good, sometimes it sucks." He continued. "I had my time for happiness and sorrow. So how could you guys..."
Adam interrupted, "How can we see you?"
They were silent for a moment. "We just can." Adam said.
"It's always been like that." Alice finished.
Jack sighed. His invisible shoulders slumped. Kids.
"Do ghosts eat?" Alice asked. Breaking the silence.
"No." Jack replied. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
"Do they poop?" Adam inquired. His expression never changed.
Jack stared at them. "Seriously?"
"Just curious." Adam said with a shrug. It would've been adorable if it wasn't delivered with such deadpan seriousness.
"No." Jack said again. "Ghosts don't poop."
The rapid-fire questions continued. Did ghosts feel hot in the summer? Cold in the winter? Can ghosts die of old age? Why did some dead people become ghosts while others didn't? What happens to a ghost in outer space?
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Jack answered what he could. He admitted ignorance where he had to. And he started to develop a headache.
Being a ghost was weird enough without being grilled by two emotionless seven-year-olds. Eventually, a woman's voice called from the house.
"Adam! Alice! Lunchtime!"
The twins turned in unison. "Coming, Mom!" They called back. Their voices were perfectly synchronized.
"Well, this has been… enlightening." Jack said. Trying to inject some levity into the situation. "Guess I'll be going then."
"Bye, Jack!" Adam said.
"Goodbye!" Alice echoed. Then, she added, "You should check the sewers."
Jack stopped mid-phase. "The sewers? Why?"
"We feel... bad things down there." Adam said. His brow furrowing slightly for the first time. "Something dangerous. I think you could help."
Alice nodded. "And I think you'll find something good down there. Something great maybe."
Jack stared at them again. What the hell was going on with these kids? They could see ghosts. They could sense danger. And apparently, they possessed some kind of precognitive abilities.
The problem was... Jack could feel it. They indeed had potential for supernatural powers. But their supernatural powers hadn't been activated yet.
"Alright!" He helplessly said. "I'll check out the sewers. But if I find nothing but rat turds, I'm holding you two personally responsible."
The twins didn't react. "Thank you, Jack," Alice said.
"Goodbye!" Adam finished.
Jack phased through the wall again. He was back in his invisible swirl of ectoplasmic energy. He had been planning to randomly explore the town. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novel·fıre·net
But the twins' words echoed in his mind. It gave him a clearer direction. Malice in the sewers. And the promise of something great. He was a sucker for that kind of thing.
The other part of the town could wait. He had a feeling the sewers of Highcliff Town were about to become a whole lot more interesting.
Jack took the twins' cryptic advice. He started with the most obvious route. The nearest sewer grate.
Highcliff Town, for all its artistic charm, didn't skimp on the industrial necessities. Even if they were subtly integrated.
They had functional, huge sewers. Yes. But the sewer grate was not a common functional ones. It was disguised as part of a decorative fountain's base. It was pretty. And heavy. But Jack just simply needed to phase through it.
The stench inside hit him like a physical blow. It was a potent cocktail of stagnant water, decay, and something vaguely chemical. The nasty smell assaulted his non-existent lungs.
He suppressed a spectral gag reflex. He was a ghost. Faceless ghost. He didn't have a nose. He shouldn't be able to smell anything. But here he was. Experiencing the full olfactory horror of Highcliff's underground.
He floated down. Next to the metal rungs of the ladder. He descended into the darkness. The air grew thick and damp. He could hear the dripping sound of water echoing through the tunnels. Each drop was a morbid drumbeat.
The sewer was a maze of brick-lined tunnels. Some were barely wide enough for him to float through. Others were opening into larger, echoing chambers. They were all unlike the carefully maintained town above. They were reeked of neglect.
He drifted deeper. Following the general downward slope. His assumption was that the primary flow would lead him somewhere significant. He kept his senses peeled. He searched for any anomaly. He looked for any clue to what the twins had meant.
Hours crawled by. The stench became almost bearable. It had been a constant background fragrance to the symphony of drips and scurrying sounds.
He floated past discarded scraps of metal, rotting wood, and the occasional bloated rat carcass. Everything seemed normal. Ugly and disgusting. But normal. Jack was looking for something more sinister.
Then, he felt it. A prickling sensation that wasn't physical. But was very wrong. A subtle shift in the atmosphere. A malevolent undercurrent to the already unpleasant environment.
The twins had been right. Something was definitely going on down here.
He focused on the feeling. He let it guide him as he floated forward. The tunnel narrowed. The brick walls became slick with grime. The air grew warmer. Heavier.
The scurrying sounds intensified. Becoming a frantic chorus. He could practically taste the wrongness in the air.
Finally, he reached a large, circular chamber. And there they were.
They were mot the normal rats. Not the disease-ridden rodents he'd seen scattered throughout the tunnels. These were different.
Huge, for starters. Some were the size of small dogs. Their fur was matted and patchy and... emitted white glow.
But that wasn't the strangest part.
Each rat there had a third eye. A single, vertical eye. Smack-dab in the middle of its forehead. The eye was milky and opaque. It glowed with that same eerie white light. The light that felt so familiar. And so sickening.
There were hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. There were writhing mass of mutated rodents. Their extra eyes glowed with an unholy intensity. Filling the huge chamber with their presence.
The light was almost blinding. It was a stark contrast to the darkness of the sewer. It pulsed with a sickening rhythm. A visual representation of the wrongness Jack felt.
He could even detect waves of fear emanating from the rats. It was as if they were both prisoners and vectors of the curse.
The sight made his spectral stomach churn. That wasn't nature running its course. That wasn't natural mutation. That was deliberate. Twisted. And so wrong. And then it came to him...
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Jack groaned. Which turned into a creepy sound echoing into demonic whispers. He recognized that glow.
He remembered the way it crackled around the hands of the Fallen Acolytes. He remembered the curses disguised as white light beams. The ones that were shot at him by those bastards. The Cult of Purity.
He'd thought he had dealt with them. He did have avenged Linna and her mother. But this… The cult seemed to have prepared something bigger. The attempt to sacrifice the corpses of a mother and daughter were just the tip of the iceberg.
The cult wasn't just interested in appeasing their twisted deity. They were planning something big. Corrupting these rats.... What the hell were they trying to do? An army of glowing-eyed rats? A plague of some kind?
Jack floated closer. Meticulously cataloging every detail. The rats seemed agitated. Their glowing eyes were darting around. As if sensing his presence.
Jack could feel their fear, their pain. It was unsettling. It was different. This was the fear of something being experimented on. Something violated.
'Those cultist bastards!' He muttered in frustration.
He could sense a deeper source of the corruption. There was a focal point within the rat swarm. Probably some kind of altar or artifact. The one channeling the corruption of that cursed white light.
He had a thought to just phase through the whole mess to find and destroy the source. But a feeling of dread held him back. Something bad would happen if he destroyed the source before making sure every corrupted creature eliminated first.
He needed to massacre the poor rats. But h could not do that as a ghost. He needed a body. He needed… Jack Deathspark.