Morimens story · Psyche Deepdive
Feast of Flames
6 scenes, 343 lines
1. Outcast Queen, before the fight
78 linesOnce upon a time...
She rules over everything she sees.
At night, she sits alone on a high terrace, watching the planets as they roll slowly through the void.
She sings to herself, whispers to the stars, and sometimes drifts into sleep without even realizing it.
She has always done exactly as she pleases. Before the Cataclysm, she was the Queen; after the Cataclysm, she is the only thing left.
And so, she continues to do as she pleases.
Yes, everything she sees is hers to rule, though it has all long since crumbled into cosmic dust.
Is a queen without subjects still a queen? Wanda doesn't know the answer.
Still not awake? Let's help him cool off.
Nngh...!!
A sudden, icy chill shocks your chest.
<Change>Still no reaction... My Lady...
Then just cut it off. Make it a clean stroke.
!!
Cut? Cut what?!
You are bound to a cold iron rack. A heavy guillotine blade hovers less than ten inches above your thighs, poised to drop...
Wait, hold on... Gah!
A sharp pain flares in your chest. Your robes are in tatters, revealing a map of gruesome, jagged scars.
It's clear this body has endured horrific abuse.
You're finally awake.
A low, velvety voice, laden with authority, echoes through the vast hall.
The noble Lady Wanda leans lazily against her attendant, squinting at you with cold interest.
What is the meaning of this?!
"To indulge in lewdness, to surrender to one's lusts..."
What's the next line? Keep reciting, little monk.
...?
What's wrong? You spent weeks chanting those scriptures at my city gates. Did you forget them the moment you stepped inside?
The city gates... the scriptures...
After such brutal punishment, this body's consciousness is a fractured mess. You focus your mind, slowly piecing together fragments of memory.
Vayne @2, 23 years old. Born in southern Shropshire. He was ordained as a monk in the Cambrian Diocese three months ago.
Devout and compassionate, he was sickened by Lady Wanda's decadent lifestyle. Every morning, he would stand at the castle gates to recite holy verses in protest.
Vayne lasted twenty-three days before the guards finally lost their patience and dragged him inside.
"To indulge in lewdness, to surrender to one's lusts..." The next part is...
Hmm. Truly forgotten? In that case, let's just cut him in half.
Wanda yawns and gives a languid wave of her hand.
Release!
The rack gears groan as they turn. The blade begins its descent, and the rush of cold air ignites your survival instinct.
Wait! Wait! I remember! I remember!
"...shall suffer such punishment as a warn... a warning..."
Damn it... if only I had Ramona's memory.
<Change>My Lady... a spy...
The silent attendant's throat twitches as he lets out a thick, raspy gurgle.
Oh? Do go on.
<Change>Diocese. Scriptures.
I see...
My little pet tells me you might be a spy. A monk sent by the Diocese who can't even remember his basic verses? How suspicious.
However...
BOOM!!
Rigid, bone-like spikes erupt from the floor, stopping inches from the blind servant's throat. Wanda lifts her gaze and gives him a frigid stare.
You speak when I permit it. When I do not, you are a mute. Is that understood?
<Change>I obey. Understood.
The blind attendant falls silent instantly, retreating back into the shadows of the corner.
The hall falls so silent you could hear a pin drop on the cold stone.
Glass in hand, Wanda approaches you with steps that are both graceful and predatory.
She reaches out, her long nails grazing your chest before lingering at the pulse of your neck.
He says you're a spy. So... are you?
Wanda narrows her cobalt-yellow eyes. She hides her cruelty well, but it flickers dangerously behind her gaze like a spark in the dark.
If your next answer fails to please her, those nails will surely tear through your throat.
You take a steadying breath and force yourself to look her directly in the eye.
If I were a spy, I wouldn't have chosen this identity.
First, it's too high-profile. It invites far too much scrutiny and trouble.
Second, it's suicide. Everyone in Cambrian knows that Lady Wanda loathes monks above all else, agh!
Icy wine spills over your neck, stinging as it seeps into your raw wounds.
Wanda tosses the empty glass aside and flashes a sharp smile.
I certainly don't like monks. And? Keep going, Mr. Vayne.
...
If I were a fake... I'd have been killed ten times over... before ever setting foot in this hall...
Wanda bursts into laughter, seemingly delighted by your response.
How surprising. It seems you aren't such a dull, stuffy little creature after all.
I like clever people. But I love those who are both clever and beautiful.
Wanda pats your cheek with mock affection before raising her voice to call her servants.
Take him away. Scrub him clean and bring him to my bedchamber tonight.
Her bedchamber? What for...?
No one bothers to answer you. Wanda yawns and exits the hall in a grand procession, surrounded by her retinue.
Seeing your bewildered expression, a nearby maid rolls her eyes.
You really don't get it? You're to attend her bed tonight. It's an opportunity most people would kill for...
Attend her bed?!
Your vision swims, and you lose consciousness once again.
2. Four Weddings, before the fight
23 linesSplash...
A bucket of ice-cold water is dumped over your head.
A dull throb pulses in your chest as someone delivers two sharp kicks to your bruised ribs.
Ugh! Cough, cough...
<Change>The bedchamber. To the Consort.
You've lost count of how many times you've been woken up this way...
You let out a weary sigh and allow the attendants to haul you up and out of the room.
Bathing, dressing, grooming...
You follow the maid's lead, the heavy, cloying scent of cosmetic powder clinging to your skin.
This is a classic fortress of the old world, its walls built from massive stone blocks to withstand any siege.
It looks drafty. It must be freezing in the winter.
Wait, what is that...?
A black, corrosive sludge begins to ooze from the cracks in the masonry.
The liquid gathers silently on the floor, pulsating as it knits itself into a physical shape.
Roar!!
Do you feel that? Something is nearby...
They're here... the monsters are back!
Get behind me.
But aren't you a...
The maid stares in disbelief at the heavy chains binding your wrists and ankles.
You close your eyes, reaching into the depths of your consciousness to grasp the faint links to other Awakeners.
Though your power is muffled by the monk's fragile spirit during this dream, and your summons are weakened, still...
It is more than enough to handle the likes of you.
3. Four Weddings, after the fight
48 linesCambrian Castle Wanda's Bedchamber
You're finally here, Mr. Vayne. Come closer and help me remove these rings.
Wanda sits before a sprawling vanity mirror. She extends her slender fingers toward you, weighted down by a stack of opulent rings.
The blind, limbless servant stands like a ghost behind her, a silent sentinel in the cold moonlight.
You approach her with heavy steps. As you lower your head to slide the rings from her fingers one by one, your mind keeps drifting back to that hidden note.
Where exactly is this "usual spot"...?
What is it? You look as though you have something to say to me.
?!
Your hand trembles. An opal ring slips from your grasp, clattering onto the floor and rolling toward the edge of the bed.
Forgive me... I don't follow your meaning, Lady Wanda.
Oh? Your face tells a very different story.
Wanda tilts her chin toward the ring lying on the floor.
That ring was a gift from my fourth husband. Do you know why he eventually... vanished?
N-no... I wouldn't know...
He was once known as the 'Plantagenet of Cambrian.' A truly magnificent warrior.
But later, he conspired with rival lords to overthrow me. He even went so far as to poison my wine and my food.
A pity. He'll never be able to poison anyone ever again...
Wanda reaches out and strokes the cold cheek of her servant, her eyes brimming with a mock, tender affection.
Am I right, my dear husband?
<Change>My Lady... Love...
The blind attendant leans submissively into Wanda's embrace, seemingly relishing her touch.
?! You actually turned your own husband into...
Enough. My bedtime story is over. Now it's your turn, little monk.
Think very carefully. Is there really nothing you want to tell me?
Wanda's smile vanishes, replaced by a mask of cold indifference. She radiates a crushing pressure that makes it nearly impossible to draw breath.
...
At this point, any further deception is futile. You pull the note from your pocket and hand it to her.
Lady Wanda, I can explain! This wasn't my idea!
You're the one who gave him this note, aren't you?
Wanda lazily lifts her gaze toward the maid standing nearby.
Yes... I gave it to him.
The maid's head is bowed, her entire body trembling. Then, she takes a sharp breath and straightens her back.
Demon! You're a heartless demon!
My father and brother are locked away in the dark below. I have to save them...
BOOM!
Jagged bone-spikes erupt from the floor, forming a lethal cage around the girl.
I have zero interest in your tragic little tale. Guards! Throw her out.
Lady Wanda, she's just an insignificant pawn in all of this. Please, there's no need to be so heartless...
Before you can finish the thought, Wanda seizes you by the throat, hoisting you up until you're eye-level with her.
You speak when I permit it. Is that understood?
Cough... gah...
Are you so addicted to this 'monk' persona that you've forgotten yourself? You dare act the saint in my presence?
?!
How did you... know...?
Wanda releases her grip, and you collapse in a heap. She leisurely crosses her legs, enjoying the sight of you gasping for air.
I grew bored of human parlor tricks centuries ago. You are certainly not Vayne @2.
Throw him in the dungeon. Don't let him out until he's ready to tell the truth.
<Change>As you command!
4. Piper, before the fight
97 linesCambrian Castle Underground Prison
The heavy iron door slams shut behind you.
You turn around and find yourself surrounded by pairs of glowing eyes, watching you like predators in the dark.
Woaaahhh!!
As your vision adjusts to the gloom, you finally see the reality of the cell.
Sitting, lying, or leaning against the cold stone walls, the room is packed with ragged villagers.
Their skin is riddled with Dissolution scars; some have already lost half their bodies to the rot. The air is thick with the stench of sickness and impending death.
Wanda actually locked all of you away in here...
Don't be afraid. I'll find a way to get you out of here.
The villagers only stare back in silence. There is no hope in their eyes, but no hostility, either.
Wait, the maid...
My father and brother are locked away below. I have to save them...
Do any of you know a maid named Susanna?
Susanna? That's my big sister!
A child's clear voice pipes up from the corner.
By the flickering light of a single candle, you notice an old man lying in the shadows with a wide-eyed boy huddled beside him.
Susanna is my daughter... Has something happened to her?
She's deeply worried about you. She was trying to find a way to save you.
We can't leave this place...
The old man's body is riddled with Dissolution holes. The black ichor seeping from his wounds has long since stained the straw beneath him.
We stayed here of our own free will. Once the sickness takes hold, you lose your mind... you turn into a monster.
It's true. There were so many murders nearby... Then the Lady came through house by house. She gathered the sick and brought us here.
If someone didn't want to be quarantined, she let them leave the fiefdom, so long as they swore never to return.
But here, we get porridge and sweet bread every day!
I see. Did we completely misjudge her?
Has Lady Wanda treated you well since she took over the fief?
Well? I don't know. I've never actually seen her. I've only heard the stories, that she's cruel, that she killed her four husbands, that she's a devil in the flesh.
But since she's been here, she's done a lot of good. Life is much better than it used to be.
She taught us how to farm properly and herd sheep. Every festival, she takes the wool to the Charich market herself. It brings in a lot of coin.
That's right. She actually seized the Charich market from Count Goodrich. They've been at war over it for nearly a year...
The villagers all begin talking at once, sharing stories of Wanda's management: farming, smelting, livestock, estate law...
You are stunned by how deeply Wanda is involved in every aspect of the fief. She is certainly no idle, pleasure-seeking noble.
She's a good ruler. It's just a tragedy that the Dissolution found her.
A spread this massive... there has to be a D-Rift nearby.
The iron door behind you suddenly creaks open.
Wanda stands at the entrance, the candle in her hand bathing her silhouette in a warm, orange glow.
Let this one out. I have something to say to him in private.
Cambrian Castle Garden
You walk together across the soft grass until you reach the edge of the lake.
At midnight, the lake is a dark mirror, reflecting the fragmented shards of the moon above.
I think you've realized by now: Cambrian is facing a catastrophe, and I am powerless to stop it.
But you... when you fought those monsters in the castle, you handled them like a seasoned veteran.
It is my profession, after all...
Weren't you in your chambers at the time, My Lady? How do you know so much about that fight?
I have eyes and ears everywhere in Cambrian. If a single freesia wants to bloom, it needs my permission first. There is nothing I do not know.
And what about that maid? If you knew she was a spy, why keep her around?
Wanda waves a hand dismissively.
She's just a pitiful, ordinary human. She couldn't hurt a hair on my head if she tried.
Besides, she's a competent servant. Finding a human who actually does as they're told is no easy feat.
In short, I need you to end this Dissolution. Don't rush to refuse, we can discuss the price later. I'll give you whatever you want.
Surely you wouldn't let these villagers die such meaningless deaths, would you... my dear "monk"?
...
You keep saying "you humans," and then there are those strange bone-spikes... Lady Wanda, you aren't human at all, are you?
A being from a distant world who cares about the lives of common peasants. What are you really after?
Faced with your interrogation, Wanda raises an eyebrow and suddenly bursts into laughter.
Did I say something funny?
No... Hahaha! I'm just so happy. In all the years I've spent here, I've finally met someone else who doesn't belong "here", just like me.
How did you...
Wanda places a slender finger gently against your lips.
Shh... Follow me. I want to show you something.
You make your way through the woods to the tranquil edge of the lake.
Sometimes, I have these wonderful illusions... as if I can see my old city reflected in the depths of this water.
A massive city made of black monoliths. Its borders were constantly expanding, stretching toward an unseen horizon...
The deep blue lake is almost fathomable. As you listen to her description, the alien silhouette of that city begins to take shape in your mind.
Black spiral spires, strange obtuse walls...
Back then, I had a grand palace. Over a thousand servants attended to my every need.
Just as you said, I never cared whether those minions lived or died.
I did exactly as I pleased. My servants, my city... they were all just manifestations of my will and ambition.
Then, my planet was struck by the catastrophe you call the "Dissolution." Everyone died.
I sat alone in that hall for a long, long time, watching my palace and my capital turn to ash.
To be honest, it was a terrible feeling. No one wants to experience that twice.
Lady Wanda... I'm sorry, but I can't help you.
Don't worry about that. Tell me what's holding you back, and I will provide whatever you need.
You shake your head.
It's more than that. Our current environment... it has some... peculiarities.
You cannot close a D-Rift while inside a dream state.
How do I even begin to explain that to her?
Because we are in a dream, you can't help me... is that it?
?!
You... you've noticed?
Wanda gazes down at the black city in the water, her eyes shimmering with fragmented white moonlight.
Since coming here, I've had many dreams. About wars, disasters, time... but never once about my capital.
Just when I was about to forget it, I met you, and then saw it again at the bottom of the lake.
Did you know? When a dying man sees the Piper moving through the fog, he feels neither fear nor curiosity.
He simply follows the Piper in silence, going to a place of his own.
Wanda lets out a soft sigh.
My lost capital... it is beautiful, like a dying man's dream.
She gently strokes the silent, blind attendant by her side.
<Change>My Lady...
Cambrian is my second home. I haven't spent much time here, yet it's already time to say goodbye.
I'm sorry, Lady Wanda...
Wanda waves a hand dismissively. When she looks up again, the gloom has vanished from her face.
Don't worry. Since I chose to be the lady of this fief, I must take responsibility for everyone.
Isn't it just dying together? Then let's die gloriously.
What are you planning to do?
Wanda offers a cryptic smile and winks at you.
A magnificent farewell banquet.
5. Night of Death & Song, before the fight
56 linesGuderian's Fiefdom Hunting Grounds
What? You're telling me Wanda fused the bolts shut and is holding a ball for every peasant in Cambrian inside that castle?
It's the absolute truth! I heard those who weren't infected have all left. The only ones left at that dance are those who are terminally ill.
Hahaha! I went through so much trouble to plant a mole by her side... it seems I wasted my effort.
With a plague that horrific, she doesn't even try to escape. She just locks them all in to wait for death...
Is it true, as the rumors say, that she has gone completely mad?
Your words are quite intriguing. Was she ever a woman of sound mind to begin with?
Uh... well...
What this woman is thinking, no one can guess. However...
The Cambrian plague is beyond cure. If those infected are released, heaven knows what would happen.
Regardless of Wanda's intention, her actions indeed saved the surrounding fiefs...
Cambrian Castle Banquet Hall
You push open the heavy wooden door of the hall.
Dazzling light spills across the room like fallen stars. The air is thick with the sweet aroma of wine and gourmet food.
The peasants of Cambrian have put on their finest clothes, dancing joyfully to the rhythm of the music.
Though the world outside is submerged by Dissolution, the hall remains full of cheer.
Is this the legendary apple pudding? I've never tasted anything so delicious in my life...
Hahaha! I'm so happy! If I die tonight, it was all worth it!
Dance! Come on, everyone dance!
You push through the bustling crowd and find Wanda seated at the far end.
She leans languidly against her attendants, the red wine in her glass catching the light like a polished ruby.
Good evening, Master Monk. I thought you'd be too pious to join our absurd revelry.
Sometimes I want to satisfy my curiosity.
Besides, with D-slime everywhere outside, where else could I possibly go...?
Someone tugs gently at the hem of your robe.
You're... Susanna's brother!
I have a name, you know! Everyone calls me Little Beckman.
Good evening, Little Beckman. Where has your sister gone?
Big sister and the others who weren't sick left together...
Little Beckman bows his head, dejected. He sniffs, then looks up at you with wide, watery eyes.
Good sir, will you dance with me? I don't have a partner, boo-hoo...
Little one, monks aren't permitted to dance.
Now I declare that you are permitted. Forget those outdated rules.
In Cambrian, I, AM THE LAW ITSELF!
You look into Little Beckman's hopeful eyes and swallow your refusal.
I'm afraid I've never learned how to dance, but I can certainly spin around with you for a bit.
You take Little Beckman's hand and lead him into the center of the hall, joining the sea of villagers swaying to the melody.
Skirts flutter and twirl in the candlelight like a thousand colorful spinning cupcakes.
You drift through this golden ocean of light and song, finally submerged by the rising bubbles of joy.
Little Beckman's footwork is no better than yours. He wiggles aimlessly to the beat, his face flushing a bright, happy red.
Hahaha! So happy! This is the best day of my life!
Sir, grab my hand! Let's spin together!
Hurry up!
Faster!
Faster...
Fast@2...
Little Beckman, what's happening to your face...?!
<Change>Dance with me...
Inky D-slime begins to pour from the boy's eyes, yet he continues to smile as he reaches for you.
A sudden, cold wetness touches your nose. You look up and see black ichor dripping slowly from the crystal chandelier.
One drop. Two.
You look around in a panic, only to realize that many people's clothes, arms, and faces are all beginning to rot.
But they still dance joyfully.
Sir, why are you ignoring me? Don't you like me anymore...?
The boy wraps his sticky hands around you, sorrow overflowing from his hollow eye sockets.
Stay with me... Stay with me...
6. Night of Death & Song, after the fight
41 linesYou finally wrench yourself away from Little Beckman, only to see the entire hall mutating.
The banquet hall has become a massive graveyard. The oozing D-slime is like a swarm of lice hidden beneath a silken robe.
No. Too many people are mutating at once...
You instinctively look toward Wanda.
Through the bustling crowd, Wanda smiles and raises her glass to you.
Scared already, little monk?
I don't understand. Are you just going to stand by and watch them go mad and die?
Wanda bursts into laughter, black tears tracking down her cheeks. Her own skin is already riddled with wounds from the Dissolution.
Nothing is eternal, little monk. Not even the gods you worship.
If we are destined for the grave, why shouldn't we depart with joy?
Or should we huddle in our beds and weep alone just to satisfy your image of how the dying ought to behave?
I told you. In Cambrian, I am the law.
The Queen commands: Dance! Keep dancing! Past, present, and future, we shall never fear death.
At Wanda's command...
The atmosphere in the hall is pushed to its peak.
<Change> Dance, dance...
@4
Mad. They've all gone completely insane...
You look on in bewilderment at everything unfolding before your eyes. Even in your wildest fever dreams, you have never witnessed a scene so phantasmagoric.
Everyone is insane. Everyone is scarred.
But everyone is happy.
...
I once heard someone say: Those who cannot hear the music think the dancers are mad.
You tear open your collar and collapse to the floor, utterly exhausted.
It's funny, in a way. I once vowed at Mythag's grave to face life and death without fear... yet I was never truly ready to face death.
You've given me a new perspective, though I hope I never have to face such a dilemma.
You pick up a glass and offer a toast to Wanda across the sea of black ichor, spilled wine, and scattered flowers.
To courage.
Wanda laughs heartily and raises her glass toward you.
To death. Our most magnificent and sweetest demise.
The sweet scent of rotting corpses fills your nostrils, accompanied by a cacophony of wails, sobs, and laughter.
But they never stop dancing.
The Queen never abandons her people. Soon, they will march together into this magnificent feast of death.
This time, at last, she is not alone.
Can you still recall that scripture? The one you recited at the gates?
...I remember.
Indulging in lust and giving in to unchecked desires shall be punished by eternal fire as a warning.
Then are you ready? Ready for the eternal fire?
In the gathering darkness, you hear only a distant, fading laughter.
Like shards of a meteor falling into a lake, the sounds sink slowly into the depths of your consciousness.
Until, at the very end, there is only silence.