Date: Unspecified
Ti: Unspecified
Location: Myriad Realms, Card World, Southern Region, Blossom District, Sky Blossom City
"Go ahead, kill . I’ve already done my part. I reported the truth to the world," the man shouted as he lay slumped against the wall of a narrow back alley. He was drenched in filth, soaked with urine, vomit, and refuse, his back pressed into the gri-slick stone. "I posted everything on the Grimoire Network. By morning, all five regions will know what I uncovered. There’s nothing you or your masters can do now."
His clothing was impossible to recognize, shredded in multiple places and darkened by layers of dried and fresh blood. One trembling hand clutched his grimoire, while the other pressed desperately against the gaping wound torn through his hip, blood seeping between his fingers.
Standing before him was a man dressed like an assassin crossed with a jester, his face concealed behind a grotesque clown mask. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, and the condescension in his gaze was unmistakable as he looked down at the broken figure at his feet and burst into manic laughter, "Hahaha! Hahaha—"
The laughter cut off abruptly. The clown bent down, bringing his masked face close to the man lying at his feet, staring directly into his eyes as though trying to peer into his very soul. The man did not flinch, eting that gaze with stubborn defiance.
"Did you really?" the clown asked quietly. "I could kill you a second later. Check your post. See if it’s still there."
The man held the clown’s gaze for a mont longer before doubt crept in. Unable to suppress it, he looked down at his grimoire. The post he had made was gone. It had been live for only a few minutes before being erased. He couldn’t comprehend what had happened, and the fierce determination on his face slowly crumbled into helpless disbelief.
The clown lowered his head further, bringing it almost cheek to cheek with him, and whispered, "Looks like your work here isn’t finished. The world will never know what you uncovered, Reporter Cabe."
The clown then shifted slightly, locking eyes with Cabe once more. "Now that you know this," he asked softly, "do you still want to die?"
This ti, Cabe let out a low chuckle. "Didn’t you see the post’s discussion? My job’s done, mate."
The clown imdiately accessed the post’s discussion thread. There were only a couple of comnts, both from a single reader.
[Anonymous1897: What are you smoking, bro?]
[Anonymous1897: Holy shit, the post just got deleted by the authorities. So, it wasn’t a conspiracy theory, but the truth. Fortunately, I copied it and shared it with my community as a gag. The world needs to know about this.]
Even as the clown finished reading, both comnts vanished.
[Anonymous1897: User has deleted the comnt.]
[Anonymous1897: User has deleted the comnt.]
Seeing this, Cabe burst into genuine laughter. The sound grated on the clown’s nerves, prompting him to snap, "What are you laughing about? It’s just one person. I’ll kill him too. His death will be on you."
"I have no doubt about that," Cabe replied, his laughter fading as his voice steadied. "But thanks to , the truth is already out there."
"The fate of worlds," he cried hoarsely, "has never been shaped by grand heroes or hollow theatrics, but by single individuals who had gone above and beyond to do their duty and refused to yield in the hardest of tis."
"Mark my words, no matter how many people you and your masters kill, you can’t hide the truth forever. It’ll surface sooner or later—ah!"
Not waiting for him to finish, the clown plunged his hand into the man’s chest, tearing out his still-beating heart and crushing it without hesitation. As life drained from him, the man forced out his final words in a fading whisper, "Signing off... Reporter Conard Cabe."
...
I stopped in my tracks to take a closer look at the reporter. He seed familiar. He was one of the stubborn reporters Clown Mask had killed in her future vision for the Circle.
In that vision, Clown Mask had assassinated countless card apprentices from different professions on the Circle’s behalf, yet this one stood apart from all the rest. It was his final words that had given the present Clown Mask, whose mind had already been fractured by the future vision, the will to endure the Circle’s brutal training, once more in the current tiline and eventually rebel against the Supre Leader. Fight against them while pretending to be one of them.
Clown Mask’s future vision had been a single, long, painfully vivid dream. She did not erge from it unscathed. To her, it had felt real, as though it were truly happening. In those few fleeting seconds, she had lived out an entire lifeti.
In that future, Clown Mask had long since submitted to the Supre Leader. As a result, the present Clown Mask, ard with the knowledge of what awaited her, already carried the heavy shadow of the Circle and the Supre Leader deep within her mind. And she had been little more than a teenager at the ti.
When she erged from the future vision, she had no will left to resist the Circle or the Supre Leader. She had no intention of fighting back and chose instead to go with the flow, believing that submission would at least spare her from further ordeals.
Yet in the mont she resigned herself to that fate, a single bright mory surfaced. The one good thing that had co from it all. Her daughter.
That fragile comfort shattered almost as soon as it ford, crushed by the mories that followed: her daughter’s tragic birth, her brief and painful life, and her inevitable death.
And yet, buried beneath that grief, another mory stirred. Cabe’s final words echoed back to her, cutting through the despair like a blade. The fate of worlds was not decided by grand heroes or hollow displays, but by single individuals who had gone above and beyond to do their duty and refused to yield in the hardest of tis.
In that mont, the Clown Mask understood. Her daughter had existed because she had endured. Cabe’s discovery had spread and helped the Hero Aba Windsor because he had refused to break. Those who endured through suffering and pain, who did their part without yielding, were not rendered aningless even by death.
With that realization, Clown Mask bent to her fate that day, not in surrender, but in resolve. She chose to endure, to survive, and in doing so, to one day bend that very fate to her will.
...
[AN: Clown Mask disguises herself as a male. Her true gender is revealed only later during the high school tournant arc. While many within the Circle already knew, the outside world remained unaware.]
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