"He... He..." The old man hastily brushed away the tears welling up in his eyes. "He took our future from us. He killed everyone on the Path of Knowledge... He claimed the entire Path for himself alone."

Now Mr. Nobody understood why Schrödinger couldn’t share this knowledge with him. No one was supposed to find out, because if that happened...

He would find out too.

That fate seemed even worse than death.

"..." But now, as he looked at Schrödinger, the pity in Mr. Nobody’s eyes mingled with something else.

After all, if no one was supposed to know this... then why is Schrödinger alive? Why did He spare him?

Mr. Nobody didn’t dare ask.

"But you know what’s funny?" The old man found the strength to smile grimly. "Still, no one understands a thing."

"What do you mean?"

"Here, in the underground, men sit in bars, drowning their sorrow and worthlessness in bottles, but deep down they still curse Him. Women go shopping, look out for one another, and the children play and smile... We even have our own sky and sun here. It’s a life of sorts—and it’s thriving."

"..." He understood where the old man was going with this.

It was the same thing that had been troubling him as well.

"Doesn’t look like we lost, does it?" Schrödinger reached for the wine bottle, but, seeing his trembling hands, changed his mind about pouring a glass. "Total surveillance, informants, information tampering, manipulation of our minds, and reading our thoughts... When the Neodecks suddenly appeared in our heads, almost all of us feared something like this. But there was never any clear evidence. It was as if we had been left alone. Over time, many stopped noticing it and went on living as if nothing had happened. As if no one were watching us. As if everything were fine."

Schrödinger’s brown eyes met his gray ones.

Both knew what the other was thinking.

"...But people are disappearing. And no one knows why or where they go. He took away our future and gave us a life full of fear and uncertainty."

Mr. Nobody nodded in understanding. Taking the bottle, he filled his glass and the old man’s.

"Meow." The cat jumped onto the table and looked up at his face. Her nose wrinkled slightly at the sharp, bitter scent of wine.

"But your children are different." He gently placed his hand on her head. "Their hearts are free from the horrors of the past and the present."

"Free..." Schrödinger smiled grimly and took a sip from his glass. "But how long will that last? This fear... It’s like a contagion, boy. From grandfathers to fathers, from fathers to sons. Someday it will pass to them, too. It’s inevitable."

"..."

"But I’m afraid something far worse is coming. You and I, Nobody, we both feel it... Something has to change. And something will."

He could have joked that his paranoia about the client with the strange puzzle had completely clouded the old man’s mind in his old age... but he didn’t. As Schrödinger said—and he felt it too.

"The question is, boy, whether Southville has the resolve to strike preemptively, as you’ve decided to do. Or is our fate to be prisoners of fear forever and remain nothing but defeated fighters."

"Hah..." he sighed wearily, realizing once again what the old man was getting at.

"These people need you, boy. They need their Rising Star."

He didn’t respond in any way.

...

Schrödinger had a formidable reputation. From the Scavengers to the Wolves themselves—there were about 20 different gangs in Concord, not counting the smallest ones. In all of them, Schrödinger was known, respected, and recognized as a smart man who hadn’t lost his touch.

But in Southville itself, many felt free to joke around and speak of him lightly. Mr. Nobody himself happily joined in these conversations.

It was all due to the old man’s excessive suspicion and tendency to assume the worst. For the residents of the only part of town where everything seemed calm from the outside, this was enough to cast doubt on the sanity of the nearly 90-year-old man.

However, although Mr. Nobody could laugh along with the vagrants and laborers at the old man’s speeches about the importance of staying cautious, he never doubted his sanity.

Moreover, he understood and accepted the old man’s arguments—probably more seriously than anyone else. This was likely one of the things that made them get along quite well.

But even though the conversation with Schrödinger, as always, as always, proved engaging, it didn’t bring him any closer to the answers he intended to get today.

Staring intently at the photograph of eight men in black uniforms, he turned to the old man again.

"Padre, I’m sorry, but I don’t have much time."He finished his third glass of wine, feeling a slight buzz he hadn’t felt in a long time. Ever since the cat had come to live with him, he hadn’t had a drink at all, and he’d cut down from half a pack a day to just a couple a week. "You can’t reveal the details of how to achieve the First Step of Knowledge, but that’s not exactly what I need. You’ve heard my theories about the ’circumstances’ affecting the ritual, haven’t you? Please, help me understand the core of it... This isn’t the kind of knowledge that should kill me. But perhaps the kind that could save my life."

"Haah..."

Schrödinger exhaled tensely, staring him straight in the face.

"Well?"

"Circumstances..." he repeated. "Did you figure that out yourself? We could use more people like you..."

"Padre," he called, cutting him off before he could drift away from the point.

"All right, all right, boy... It’s madness, but you’ve really come as close to the truth as anyone can." Schrödinger tapped his fingers on the table. "But I don’t think my answer will make you very happy."

"...What do you mean?"

He didn’t answer right away. The old man rolled over to the bookshelf. Looking pensive, he seemed to be searching for a specific book.

"Even though the Six Paths and Six Peaks form the foundation of this world, there are reasons why most people remain ordinary, never advancing along the Paths of Greatness... Excluding the Path of Bond, probably only about one percent of all beings in the world have even reached the First Step."

"Could it be... that those circumstances are the reason?"

"Close, but not quite. They call it... a Catalyst Event."