The clocktower creaked under the weight of ti. The giant bell hung behind the doctor, still like a forgotten relic, but the Repossessor Bazaar beneath him was rowdy as usual. It was so pathetic attempt to overshadow the Black Bloom Bazaar— even though there was no real competition, but that never stopped the Repossessors from trying. If he had his way, he’d prefer watching over all corners of Blightmarch from sowhere less noisy, but it couldn’t be helped that the tallest building in the southern ward was here.
The doctor had been watching the orphanage halfway across the southern ward for twelve hours already, but it wasn’t until he saw the Raven and the Caser leaving the garden for good that he let his almost-ridiculously long and crooked telescope drop.
That is a real, blood-soaked mask of a Raven.
So the boy was a real Demonic Plagueplain Doctor. Not a fake. More surprisingly, the girl next to him had a bloodshackle-type Symbiotic System, aning she, too, was an honest-to-saint Symbiote Exorcist.
There’d never been a Plagueplain Doctor-slash-Symbiote Exorcist pairing before.
And the boy also managed to remove the Myrmurs without killing Evelyn in the process.
How, pray tell, is that even possible?
He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he took a step back to lean against the giant bell, clutching the brim of his top hat. He’d be significantly more irritated if he hadn’t already gotten the results he wanted to see out of the experint: that was, the fact that it was possible for even a child to accept multiple Myrmurs at the sa ti.
The research information he’d gathered from Evelyn was invaluable. He could just leave it at that. She was a loose end he should probably tie up with one more visit, but… well.
There were other more important experints he had to observe.
He stepped off the edge of the hole in the center of the clocktower, and down he went, the rush of wind and the dizzying drop barely registering as he plumted twenty ters down. He hit the plush red carpet of the lavish office below with a soft thud. The room was a grotesque masterpiece in its own right. The walls were adorned with severed limbs, while whole torsos were woven into chairs, tables, and all sorts of other furniture a more opulent man than he would want—so he brushed his raven-feathered cloak with a slight flick of his wrist, looking at the man who sat behind his grand table at the far end of the room.
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The man, backlit through the stained glass pane behind him, gave the doctor a small smile with his bloodshot eyes.
What was his na again?
This is… Lawr… Lahr… Lor…
The doctor’s mask was full tal, but he made it a point to smile back at Lorcawn, if not only because it was the polite thing to do.
“Finished sightseeing on my treasured belltower, doctor?” Lorcawn’s voice broke the silence, teasing in its tone.
The doctor tilted his head ever so slightly, looking at Lorcawn with a kind of bored detachnt reserved for long, drawn-out etings. “I have,” he said. “And how is ‘it’ doing, Palm? Is it still active?”
Lorcawn’s eyes lit up as he rubbed his back with his six spider-like arms.
“It is... a very strange feeling, as you said it would be," Lorcawn admitted, eyes gleaming. “But strange feelings are what all Bharnish live for. Who am I to mind?”
The doctor’s lips twisted into a barely perceptible smile, though his mask hid all of it. “It's coming along quite nicely, then,” he replied, turning around for the front door. “But, just a word of caution, if I may—do not let it out too prematurely. I am counting on you, after all. You are a valuable experint I do not wish to see go up in flas.”
And he didn’t need to turn around to tell Lorcawn’s expression darkened slightly, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward, fingers tapping on the table. “It’s fine by ,” he said. “As long as it helps get what I want: more power, more control over Blightmarch. I’ll use whatever I have to, even your little… experints.”
To that, the doctor chuckled softly, his hand pulling on the hand-shaped doorknob. “I see,” he murmured, giving the door a hard tug. “Then I am looking forward to your results very much. I will return… in…”
“You push on the door, doctor.”
“Why does this basic contraption not open both ways?”
“That’s just how it was built. The hinges don’t swing in.”
“You should kill the man who built it.”
“I should.”
The doctor kicked the door down, and while the Repossessors standing guard outside got a good fright, he was quite certain it wasn’t because of the loud noise, but because he’d grown tired of his dull steel mask.
He put his raven mask back on and left Lorcawn’s office.
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