Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability-Chapter 1002 - The Answer to the Questions

Chapter 1002 The Answer to the Questions

Looking at her past self suspended in the transparent “cocoon”, Franca’s mind buzzed with many thoughts, like boiling oatmeal.

What exactly is this place?

Is this Mr. Fool’s or the Celestial Worthy’s psychological trauma?

Was I like this, enclosed in a ‘cocoon’ hanging above the door of light, from losing my memory until completing the transmigration?”

Are the other ‘cocoons’ containing other members of the research society?

What do those three empty ‘cocoons’ represent?

Who hung us up?

This is very similar to a manifestation of the High-Sequence Seer pathway…

Did the Celestial Worthy do this?

So, is this Mr. Fool’s psychological trauma?

He…

Just as these thoughts flashed through Franca’s mind, behind the brilliant light gate, some of the gray fog dispersed, revealing a sphere.

It was a view of the planet from the moon, from space.

Franca then saw the northern and southern continents, the western continent covered in a layer of grayish-white mist, and the eastern continent sunk in darkness.

At the same time, a voice with a hint of solemnity echoed in her ears:

“This place has an ancient name, called…

“Chernobyl!”

“This place has an ancient name, called…

“Chernobyl!”

“…”

As the voice echoed, Franca stared blankly at the familiar yet strange planet in the depths of the gray fog, at the four continents—east, south, west, and north—which had changed somewhat but were still recognizable. She was as if struck by lightning.

Suddenly, she understood many questions, ones she couldn’t find answers to before or had avoided certain answers while seeking other explanations.

Why does this world also have 365 days in a year, with an extra day every four years…

Why does this world also have 24 hours in a day, 60 minutes in an hour, 60 seconds in a minute…

Why the human body structure in this world was identical to Earth’s, and corresponding relationships can be found in most elements…

Why was Mr. Fool’s dream a modern city…

Why was Mr. Fool’s marionette town called Utopia…

Why were Mr. Fool’s avatars called Gehrman Sparrow and Merlin Hermes…

…

Franca stared blankly at the strange yet familiar planet, at the four continents and dreamlike blue oceans in her memory. Salty, wet tears had unknowingly fallen down her face.

Her mind was telling her the answer, but her heart was refusing to accept it.

This world might just be Earth…

Franca’s vision was already blurred, but she dared not close her eyes, afraid to see those images that always appeared before her in midnight dreams.

Her heart burst with intense shock, sadness, and immense despair and pain, almost identical to the intense emotions pervading the current area, indistinguishable and seemingly merging:

Perhaps we never left, but we can never go back.

…

Trier, inside a luxurious villa.

In Franca’s room, Madam Judgment, Madam Magician, and Madam Justice had gathered by the bedside.

“She’s crying…” Madam Judgment, who had been observing Franca’s condition, suddenly said.

The corners of Franca’s eyes in her sleep had mysteriously become wet, with traces of tears extending to both sides, disappearing into her flaxen hair that had darkened considerably.

She seemed to be having an extremely sad dream.

At this moment, Madam Judgment and Madam Magician couldn’t quite understand why Two of Cups would silently cry while dreaming.

They had anticipated what changes might occur in Franca’s expression in reality, whether it be twisting in pain, exaggerated in madness, or falling into extreme pleasure, all of which were predictable possibilities.

But why would she cry?

And the tears shed were dominated by sadness and despair.

Could one of her companions have met with misfortune?

Madam Magician cast her gaze towards the other rooms, finding that Lumian, Jenna, Anthony, and Ludwig were all still alive, though the first two—one with an icy expression, the other unable to hide pain and urgency even in dreams.

“Aren’t you going to Placate her?” Madam Judgment asked Madam Justice, who was conducting a mental and psychological analysis.

Since the mental corruption and emotional impact experienced in the dream would reflect in reality, treating the corresponding psychological issues and mental illnesses in reality would also truly affect the person in the dream.

In a dream constructed with spirit and psychology at its core, the inside and outside were indistinguishable in this aspect, blending truth and falsehood.

Madam Justice’s emerald eyes showed a thoughtful expression. “Two of Cups’s current emotions harbor immense despair, which is also a manifestation of her true state.

“And what she needs right now is precisely despair, extreme despair.”

Hearing these words, Madam Magician couldn’t help but turn her head to look at the night sky to the east.

She said in a low voice, “Yes, Two of Cups has already forcibly advanced by leveraging the uniqueness of the dream. What she needs most now is despair, intense and immense despair.

“This can help her quickly digest the potion.

“I’m not sure exactly what she’s seeing or experiencing now, but from the current situation, the ‘making oneself despair’ part should be enough. Later, we need to find an opportunity to ‘make others despair’.”

Madam Justice nodded slightly and said, “Once Two of Cups’s current despair subsides somewhat, I’ll provide psychological treatment.

“Now, she might need other help.”

As this Major Arcana card holder wearing a green dress with white patterns spoke, Madam Magician half-opened her arms.

In front of her, points of starlight gathered, condensing into an illusory but brilliant double door.

This door slowly opened, revealing a thin layer of grayish-white fog inside.

That represented the dream city.

As an Angel of the Door pathway, Madam Magician had no problem opening a door and forcibly entering Mr. Fool’s dream if she really wanted to.

Of course, whether such a forceful entry would result in her being instantly observed, losing control, or unknowingly becoming a marionette of the Celestial Worthy remained unknown.

In this matter, the unknown referred to which of the two outcomes would occur, not whether these two outcomes would appear.

According to Madam Magician’s astromancy results, there was only a very small chance that she would encounter nothing, and this was based on Mr. Fool having a certain advantage or the two great existences happening to be in a phase of intense mutual combat.

What she was about to do was certainly not to barge in and rescue Franca, but to open such a door, establish the corresponding channel, and assist Madam Justice, who was a Dreamweaver.

Originally, Madam Justice could only monitor changes in part of the dream situation, and that was in a vague perceptual way. With such a door, she could directly exert some influence on certain areas of the dream or corresponding characters.

In this situation, she, who had been kicked out of the dream three times, couldn’t do much, but what they wanted to convey to Franca was just a brief sentence.

As the door to the dream city opened, Madam Justice closed her emerald eyes that seemed able to reflect the human soul, raised her right hand, and began to sketch dreamlike, unreal symbols in the air.

…

Mushu Hospital, B2, edge of the elevator lobby.

Lumian, gazing at the illusory dark abyss, inhaling the faintly sweet and warm dark fragrance, enduring the agitation in his bone marrow and desires, feeling as if his entire being was about to ignite, entered a state of ethereal quietude.

His mind and thoughts gradually dispersed, becoming increasingly numb to the passage of time.

Finally, he “saw” a fog tinged with a dark hue, feeling as if he was walking through such a fog.

Just like before, he saw the outlines of various buildings, saw things similar to trains running on blurry streets, saw ladies with round fans covering their faces riding in human-pulled canopied two-wheeled carts approaching him.

He flew up, flew towards the depths of the dense fog, flew towards somewhere in this strange city.

There remained a peculiar high tower that was only a shadow, with indescribable gloom and terror emanating from the bottom of the tower.

Lumian, suppressing the fear in his heart and the trembling of his body, descended, entered the tower, and headed straight for the bottom.

He then saw an ancient well melding into the darkness, saw that the four walls of the ancient well were built with moss-covered stone blocks, saw iron-black chains locked onto the stone blocks, hanging down into the depths of the ancient well.

These chains had numerous reliefs on their surface, but they were blurry, making it difficult for Lumian to discern.

Unable to control himself, Lumian stuck out his head, trying to look towards the bottom of the ancient well.

What met his eyes was a dense, eerie blood-red color.

It seemed to be formed by an unknown amount of blood.

Next, Lumian smelled a fishy odor mixed with a sense of rust.

He bewilderedly turned his gaze to his nose, finding that blood had somehow already flowed from his nostrils, like real blood.

Suddenly, Lumian’s peripheral vision caught his own head and face reflected clearly in the blood-colored well water.

The palm of his right hand instantly became scorching hot, with a manic and violent aura surging out like a flood.

This was blocked by a cold and deathly stillness.

Outside the spiritual secret deed process, Lumian on B2 of Mushu Hospital, his body visibly trembled.

His hair floated up, his face sometimes the stunning Lumina, sometimes the more handsome security guard Li Ming, his chest sometimes swelling, sometimes flattening, his aura sometimes feminine and seductive, sometimes masculine and violent…

He kept switching between these two states, and if he lacked either one, his body might not be able to withstand it, quickly collapsing and becoming an out-of-control monster.

Lumian at the edge of the ancient well sensed a terrifying will that could destroy everything, feeling It casting Its gaze from the depths of the ancient well, observing him.

Even with the ability of an Ascetic, even while forcibly controlling himself, Lumian couldn’t help but break away from the secret deed ritual and open his eyes.

His right palm was still stinging, more intensely than ever before, his eyes a deep black, a black so deep that not even death existed within it, devoid of any life.

Before him, in that void of dark abyss, a vortex suddenly appeared, spiraling towards the bottom.