C-OCTO02 (Dec 25, 1988)
Puzzle
"Then tomorrow comes."
See: CD-OCTO01 | 4 Words
Clue
Hover over the clues if you require!
Clue 1: Do you know what to do?
Clue 2: I still don't have a damn clue what to do.
Answer and Explanation
Answer: Not Even An Inkling
Explanation: In CD-OCTO01, Eight says that “Then tomorrow comes, and I still don't have a damn clue what to do. Not even an inkling, man.”
Summary of Receipt
Summary
Transcript
CAFE RECEIPT
RECEIPT NUMBER: OCTO02
RECEIPT DATE: 12 25 19XX
MANAGER TITLE: THE OWNER
RECEIPT NOTES:
There is… a stillness that accompanies the arrival of the Cold. Not a calm of peace, but the brittle silence before everything shatters. They arrived—all four of them—early this morning. They came, as they always do, to take what they felt was theirs. The Eight.
Fate spoke first, as it always does, its distorted smile stretching unnaturally, icy pale eyes fixed on Jack. “You’re here. Oh—but of course you are. Just as expected. Come, we belong together, Eight. It is your Fate.”
Then, before I could act, Secret stepped forward. His form was hazy, indistinct—a shadow of a memory more than a man. Within moments, Jack grew numb. Cold. His body no longer his own, frost creeping across his flesh. His lips twisted into a wide, frozen smile.
Indrid Cold spoke next. His voice was hollow, mechanical, like a tape recorder stuck on repeat. He said, over and over again, “What would you propose? What would you do with them? Tomorrow comes. Tomorrow comes. Tomorrow comes. I’ve got a lifetime to sort it out. Maybe I can’t die anymore. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe…”
Fate tried to coax Indrid Cold into reciting the Eight fundamental truths of the Universe. But he couldn’t. Not anymore.
But I could.
By the time they left, the Cafe and Diner felt emptier than it had ever been. I knew this was coming, but I couldn’t stop it. Jack—he chose not to stop it. He didn’t have a choice, not really. The Eight… they’re where they’re meant to be now. There can only be one Indrid Cold at a time. He chose to smile so I wouldn’t have to.
I can’t tell you what the Eight are—not here, not in words you could understand. Only the holder of the Mantle of Eight can grasp the full picture they provide. Fate is skilled, no question. Its woven woes are impeccable. But what Fate doesn’t see—or maybe refuses to accept—is that it’s only a small piece of a much grander plan.
Everything began with a seed. Everything came from her—from them. And everything—every debt—will come due.
Sophomorically yours, once again,
…A number prior to 9.