CHAPTER 77: A PERFECT LIFE

Ishiki woke to the sensation of warmth.

The gentle, caressing warmth of morning sunlight filtering through sheer curtains painted the room in golden light.

He pushed himself up, the mattress beneath him sank softly, embracing his weight with the texture of down feathers and silk.

He rubbed his eyes, banishing the last vestiges of a peaceful slumber.

It was the start of yet another day.

Beside him, the breathing of two others created a soft harmony. His wife lay with her arm draped over the small form of their daughter. The little girl was buried deep in the blankets, only a tuft of raven-black hair visible.

Ishiki watched them for a long moment, a profound sense of contentment settling in his chest.

The feeling was alien and unfamiliar. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. There might be something wrong with him. He had known this feeling for quite some time now.

’They look so peaceful. I shouldn’t wake them.’

He slid off the bed, his bare feet touching the polished wooden floor. The room smelled of lavender and old books—the scent of his own home.

He walked to the balcony doors and pushed them open.

A breeze greeted him instantly. It was sweet, carrying the fragrance of the hanging gardens that adorned the city’s Innermost walls.

Below him, the street bustled with life.

People moved in organized, colorful streams. Merchants setting up stalls with vibrant fruits, nobles walking in embroidered silks, commoners heading toward the district squares.

Some were leaving for the morning prayer, others were returning from the Cathedral, faces glowing with the satisfaction of a fulfilled duty.

This was the innermost Ring. The heart of the Capital.

As a devout worshiper of God Mendacium, Ishiki had been granted the privilege of living within these deepest, safest walls.

And as a Lieutenant in the Inner Guards, he had earned the coin to secure this beautiful estate on the Via Sacra.

He leaned against the marble railing, looking out over the sprawling golden roofs of Aethelburg.

’What a perfect life.’

He had achieved what most men only dreamed of in their final moments. Most people struggled, suffered, and failed, their aspirations crushed under the indifferent wheel of fate. But he had won.

He had a beautiful wife, a lovely daughter and a purpose to his life.

’I am truly blessed.’

He turned back inside. His wife was awake now, propped up on one elbow, watching him with eyes the color of polished jade.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," she teased.

"Good morning," Ishiki replied, a smile coming to his face effortlessly.

He moved to the bathroom, washing his face with water that flowed clear and cool from silver taps—a luxury that most won’t see their entire lives. After a refreshing bath, he joined her at the table.

Breakfast was a spread of pastries, cured meats, and fresh fruits presented on porcelain plates.

They ate, flirting with the easy comfort of a couple who knew each other’s souls. They talked about their daughters upcoming schooling, and about trivial, yet beautiful things that surrounded them from day to day.

"Don’t be late for morning prayer," She reminded him as he stood to leave, smoothing the collar of his uniform.

"I won’t. I’ll pray for us."

Ishiki left the house, stepping out into the vibrant street. He walked with a confident stride, his boots clicking rhythmically on the cobblestones.

Shop owners bowed as he passed; children stopped their games to watch the Inner Guard walk by.

He was an important persona here. Unlike the past.

The smile on his face faded as the unfamiliar thought crossed his mind. What was he thinking about? His father was a high ranking officer in the inner guards so he had always been an important figure.

He pushed the thoughts aside. He... he had been thinking weird things since morning.

Finally, after some walk through the city, the structure loomed ahead.

The Cathedral of Mendacium.

It sat opposite the Royal Palace, a titan of architecture that rivaled the seat of the emperor in both scale and grandeur.

It was not built of stone, but seemingly of solid gold, catching the sun and reflecting it back with blinding intensity. It dominated the skyline, a constant reminder of who truly ruled this city.

Ishiki ascended the wide steps, passing beneath the massive archway. Inside, the air was cool and heavy with incense.

The nave was cavernous, large enough to house a leviathan. But the eyes were drawn immediately to the five colossal pillars that anchored the structure.

They rose from the underground depths, piercing the floor and stretching all the way to the vaulted ceiling, supporting the weight of the heavens.

Five of them were pristine, carved from white marble and veined with gold. They represented the five ruling deities of the world.

But there was a sixth pillar too. The one in the dead center and it was broken.

It was snapped cleanly in the middle, the upper half suspended from the ceiling by heavy chains, the lower half jutting from the floor. It was a monument to imperfection within a temple of perfection.

Ishiki didn’t dwell on it. It had always been broken. It was part of the dogma. Some old legends said that there once had been six gods, but one of them turned evil and hence was eradicated by the other five.

He walked to one of the velvet-cushioned chairs near the front, sat down, and clasped his hands. He closed his eyes, letting the silence of the sanctuary wash over him.

’Oh, Great Mendacium. Grant us the peace of ignorance. Protect our happiness from the ravages of reality.’

The prayer flowed through his mind like a soothing river. But for some reason it felt... foreign, too foreign. Like it was the first time he had said that.

"MY SON! WHERE IS MY SON?!" The scream shattered the silence.

Ishiki’s eyes snapped open. The peaceful atmosphere evaporated instantly, replaced by a ripple of shock and indignation from the gathered worshipers.

An old woman was stumbling down the center aisle. Her clothes were ragged, stained with mud—she clearly didn’t belong in the Innermost Ring. Her hair was a wild, gray halo, and her face was twisted into a mask of ugly grief.

"He died! They said he died for... for this damned Empire!" she bellowed, her voice cracking. "Where is the glory you wretches promised?!"

She rushed toward the front, toward the dais where the High Priest sat in meditation, surrounded by clouds of incense.

"Tell me!" she screamed at the unmoving priest. "Tell me why my boy is dead!"

Two Temple Guards materialized from the shadows. They were swift. They grabbed the old woman by her arms, halting her frantic charge.

She thrashed, spitting at them. "Lies! It’s all lies! The war is already lost! The gods have abandoned us!"

The congregation murmured in horror.

Ishiki watched from his seat, his expression hardening into a scowl.

’She wouldn’t live.’

She couldn’t. She had interrupted the sacred silence. She had brought the filth of the outside world into the sanctum of Mendacium.

It was a sin too great for mercy. To disturb the peace of so many... it was simply unforgivable.

"Get her out," one of the nobles whispered nearby. "Silence that witch."

Ishiki found himself nodding in agreement. The perfection of his life, the safety of his family—it all relied on Order and faith. People like this woman, with their ugly truths and loud grief, were cracks in the foundation.

The guards began to drag her backward. Her heels scraped across the pristine floor.

"There is no god! There is no one... you are all liars!" she shrieked, her eyes locking onto the High Priest, then sweeping across the crowd.

Ishiki felt very weird... it had been like this since morning.

BOOM.

The entire world lurched sideways.

Ishiki grabbed the back of the chair in front of him as the floor heaved violently beneath his feet. Dust rained down from the vaulted ceiling. The golden walls groaned.

’What...?’

The blast was deafening, originating from somewhere outside, but... but it was close.

"Earthquake?" someone shouted.

BOOM.

Another impact. The stained-glass windows high above shattered, raining jagged shards of colored light onto the panicked crowd.

Ishiki stood up, his heart hammering frantically against his ribs. This was not a normal earthquake. It couldn’t be.

He looked toward the front of the Cathedral.

The pillars.

The five pristine pillars shook violently. Hairline fractures raced up their white surfaces, branching out like lightning bolts.

CRACK.

The sound was sickeningly loud.

The central pillar, the broken one—swayed on its chains. The heavy iron links groaned under sudden, impossible stress.

Ishiki felt a cold dread seep into his stomach, cutting through the warmth of his perfect life.

’This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.’

My house... My... my wife? What was her name?

His eyes widened. Why can’t he remember the name of his own wife?

The ground heaved again, knocking him to his knees.

And then, the first of the pristine pillars snapped.