Maruki hummed thoughtfully as he jotted down a few quick notes, his mind working through what little he knew of Tartarus. He recalled hearing bits and pieces—a towering labyrinth, floating coffins, and a school built atop something much, much older. Even before this strange town or this strange place, he'd read enough scattered reports in his own world to piece together that it was more than just some supernatural anomaly.
A place where so much pain settled upon the world that even cognition itself warped to reflect it…
His chest swelled with discomfort at the thought.
It was only when Hamuko spoke again that he realized he had absentmindedly circled the word coffins on his page, the ink pressing deeper into the paper from the number of times he’d gone over it. He blinked, quickly shaking off the creeping weight of his thoughts and glancing back up.
His gaze flickered to the weapon again, then to her. Right. Cognitions. The residents here weren’t quite real, not in the way they should be.
“Well, that does explain a few things,” he mused, tapping his pen against the clipboard. “I’ve heard of people blowing up buildings around here at their own leisure, honestly. So really, you could probably go flaunting that around and no one would bat an eye.” He chuckled, though there was an odd sort of exasperation in his tone.
Then, as if remembering something, he glanced off to the side, rubbing the back of his neck. “…I had to buy weapons from shady online dealers just to get anything functional for my research.”
The way he phrased it made it sound a little too casual. Like that was a perfectly normal thing to do.
Maruki sighed, shifting his clipboard under his arm as they walked. “Not a fun process, let me tell you. The whole time, I had to go through layers of vague listings and extremely questionable sellers just to get anything functional for my research.”
He shook his head, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “One guy I bought from—real eccentric cognition—had me meet him in some abandoned warehouse at exactly 3:33 AM.” He recounted this with the same tone someone might use to complain about an inconvenient grocery store trip. “He said it was the only time the ‘spirits’ weren’t watching.”
He nodded to himself. “Nice guy, though! A little paranoid and waved around a knife, but he did give me a discount when I told him I wasn’t planning to use the weapons for ‘government-level cleansing operations.’”
no subject
A place where so much pain settled upon the world that even cognition itself warped to reflect it…
His chest swelled with discomfort at the thought.
It was only when Hamuko spoke again that he realized he had absentmindedly circled the word coffins on his page, the ink pressing deeper into the paper from the number of times he’d gone over it. He blinked, quickly shaking off the creeping weight of his thoughts and glancing back up.
His gaze flickered to the weapon again, then to her. Right. Cognitions. The residents here weren’t quite real, not in the way they should be.
“Well, that does explain a few things,” he mused, tapping his pen against the clipboard. “I’ve heard of people blowing up buildings around here at their own leisure, honestly. So really, you could probably go flaunting that around and no one would bat an eye.” He chuckled, though there was an odd sort of exasperation in his tone.
Then, as if remembering something, he glanced off to the side, rubbing the back of his neck. “…I had to buy weapons from shady online dealers just to get anything functional for my research.”
The way he phrased it made it sound a little too casual. Like that was a perfectly normal thing to do.
Maruki sighed, shifting his clipboard under his arm as they walked. “Not a fun process, let me tell you. The whole time, I had to go through layers of vague listings and extremely questionable sellers just to get anything functional for my research.”
He shook his head, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “One guy I bought from—real eccentric cognition—had me meet him in some abandoned warehouse at exactly 3:33 AM.” He recounted this with the same tone someone might use to complain about an inconvenient grocery store trip. “He said it was the only time the ‘spirits’ weren’t watching.”
He nodded to himself. “Nice guy, though! A little paranoid and waved around a knife, but he did give me a discount when I told him I wasn’t planning to use the weapons for ‘government-level cleansing operations.’”