The tranquil cafe was disturbed by a faint rumbling from afar.
The patrons sitting at their tables looked up uneasily toward the direction of the sound, but they saw nothing, and the street was peaceful.
The patrolling Guard politely assured those seeking help that it was just a minor incident that would soon be resolved, asking everyone to stay put and not to panic or run.
Shortly after, waiters carrying trays politely distributed Verification Bracelets and maps to the nearest shelters to each customer, their calm and prepared demeanor successfully soothing some of the disquiet.
"Sir, your Bracelet and map."
When the waiter got to the corner, he saw the person sitting in the armchair.
The gaunt man sat with his back to the door, looking down at the chessboard in front of him.
Regrettably, there was no one to play against him.
Only the shattered chess pieces on the board began to show cracks, and as the waiter approached, the last two pieces crumbled away.
Strangely, the glass chess pieces on the board seemed to be from only one side, and all of them were chariots and Bishops.
Only the lonely King was still held in the hand of the chess player.
When the player was focused, a strange Magic Power seemed to quiet his surroundings; no one dared to disturb him.
The waiter hesitated beside him, unsure whether to speak up. Then the man looked up.
In his sunken eye sockets were two piercing blue eyes that moved vividly, causing the waiter to take a step back involuntarily.
Being watched by this gaunt man felt as if something malevolent had fixed its gaze on him, making his skin crawl. Yet his voice was deep and magnetic, inducing a sense of closeness and trustworthiness.
"Is there a problem?" he asked.
The waiter hesitated, then handed over the items on the tray. "This is your Verification Bracelet and the map to the nearest shelter. Should anything happen, you can make your way there quickly."
"I will."
He smiled at the waiter and emphasized softly again, "I will."
His smile was kind and benevolent, putting people at ease. The waiter couldn't help but return the smile and turned to leave with a light heart.
Leaving him alone with the silent chessboard, pondering.
Until in his hands, the chess piece that represented the King also revealed a grievous crack.
In his daze, he thought he could hear a lamentation from afar.
He murmured softly, "The Ruler's lament? It seems not much different from the cry of the ruled."
"Don't you feel any regret, Mr. Morlando?"
Across from him, from the empty chair, came a deep and elegant voice, tinged with a restrained Roman accent.
The Phantom-like middle-aged man held an exquisite cane, dressed in formal attire, his temples faintly graying, neatly and sternly styled, with long hair combed back.
He asked curiously, "Or rather, the tragic end of the Superior you once believed in, does the spectator in you not feel the slightest bit of guilt?"
"Guilt? Why?" Morlando countered, "Because of my past faith?"
"Exactly," the elegant man nodded.
"I think you've mistaken something, Mr. Matthes," Morlando shook his head slightly, his smile mocking, "From the beginning, faith for humanity has always been a sneaky exchange, hardly equal or fair."
"Mere verbal praises, yet they expect safety. Just a bit of money donated, and they wish for longevity. A little earnest devotion, and they want the blessings to enter the Heavenly Kingdom—isn't that laughable?"
"Whether the object of faith comes from the Heavenly Kingdom or the Abyss, whether the promise is for Paradise or Hell, it doesn't even matter to scrutinize the possibility of those promises being fulfilled, whether they are Truth or lies."
He stated emphatically, "—The so-called faith is nothing more than the shameless greed of the weak—a form of begging and a desperate hope when confronted by fear."
Stating his views so candidly, he seriously asked, "If I'm already shameless, why should I feel ashamed?"
Matthes raised his eyebrows slightly. "Then, do you despise faith?"
"No, on the contrary, I," Morlando corrected him, "crave faith, more than anyone else! Because I am aware of my own weakness and incompetence, and I know my own limitations."
Morlando told him earnestly and seriously, "I want faith. I want to possess a powerful faith. So, whoever gives me Power, I believe in them. It's that simple."
Matthes seemed stunned.
He looked at his collaborator for a long time, then sighed with admiration. "Regardless of whether your words are reasonable, over the years, it has been rare to meet someone as forthright as yourself."
"Is that not good?" Morlando asked, "Or rather, is such naked shamefulness too disgusting?"
"No, I rather find it more pleasant," Matthes, supporting himself with his cane, leaned closer and chuckled softly, "Long ago, those preaching Priests would say—once upon a time, humans lived in the blissful Heavenly Kingdom, following the commands of God, living carefree lives, but they were not allowed to eat the fruit from the tree. Do you know why?"
"I'm eager to learn."
"Because only the sinful who have eaten the apple know shame," Matthes said, "Shame is something prepared for those with original sin—those with true faith would simply scoff at it."
Morlando laughed, "Do you think I am innocent, Mr. Matthes?"
"No, rather, both you and I belong to those deeply sinful," Matthes shook his head. "Where would you find pure Righteous Men like us, with blood-stained hands, falling into the Abyss?"
"So what's the point of this story then?"
"If one should seek meaning, then it probably only illustrates one point," Matthes laughed mockingly. "—From the beginning, the so-called faith was a lie."
BOOM!
A deep explosion came from afar.