OPERATION: ENCORE (Part VI)
BARISTA: MAMMON INFERNUS
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-128
Well, hello, my Cafe and Diner family!
Some of you know me, others know my lovely assistant Sophie Grenbelrn, but I am the primary shareholder of 8’s Holdings Incorporated, Muldra Yonomo. Now, I used to only own 33% of 8’s Holdings, but after a very generous arrangement with 8, I now own 66% of the company. As a result, I am now the majority shareholder of the Cafe and Diner. How exciting!
Things will naturally be different, and I do have some demands. I’ve been looking over your books, and two things stand out to me. One, too many puzzles. 8 is well aware I am not a fan of puzzles. Just file the receipts, please. If you must use puzzles, please make sure to update me with the passwords at the end of every week. I’ll be checking! Two, why is everyone using different receipt filing systems? I feel this is too confusing and as such, I have struck a deal with the ever industrious Marcelle Blackwood from BaristaTech to build brand new “CaDCom” systems.
Along with new CaDComs, we need to fix the employee roster a bit, yes? If you were to ask me how many 8s is too many 8s, I’d say one. Ha! Just kidding. Mostly. But honestly, why are there 6 of you? Well, no, don’t answer. I actually know why. It’s partially my fault. You can keep calling yourselves “8” if you want to, but I wouldn’t worry so much about “the sacred mantle” you’re under Yonomo’s protection now. So “Manager” will be fine. I also don’t necessarily know all of your names, so you’ll be Managers in the order I know you best, 0, 1, 3, 4, 5, and 6. I’ll take the No. 2 title as I am very well suited to the number 2.
As for the minions, whatever numbers you want will be fine, but try to condense them a bit, will you? I’m not a fan of larger numbers unless they are in my bank accounts. Ha! See, you have nothing to worry about. I am a jokester if ever there was one. Seriously I don’t want numbers above 4 digits if it can be helped. You could, of course, just number yourself 1, 2, 3, 4, etc. But I know you all love that number 8 so much.
Also, you can’t keep working out of 8’s apartment. It’s sad and unbefitting of an organization such as ours. That is why I have spared no expense in securing you a new physical location in Long Beach. Some of you might be familiar with it, but I have been assured that the Open Doors church is not haunted, just abandoned. But it should do for the time being, and you might just find that under the floorboards is quite the set up of coffee equipment left by the previous owner. I do wonder what happened to Padre Santos wink wink. Now I would love it if we could get back to doing just that as a Cafe and Diner family. There are a few more people I’d like you to serve some coffee to.
Ah, that reminds me. I am aware of the regrettable and unfortunate loss of one of your founding members. It is a tragedy. But, we will make her proud! Well, I don’t know if we could make her more proud than she already was. But, we can honor her memory by becoming the biggest and best Cafe and Diner yet!
With love, Muldra
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-129
Well, there you have it, eh? I don’t “own” the Cafe and Diner any more. At least Muldra is a great partner to be in business with, and I’m so happy to be working with him.
Muldra has promised to mostly keep out of our business moving forward but we will need to share our receipts with him and if he has a special order we have to fill it. Read between the lines if you’re confused, but more or less what he says goes.
He has also requested “less puzzles” which… As I’ve explained to him, it can be very dangerous in our line of work. But so long as we make them OBVIOUS to him, he says it will be fine. Worst case we’ll send him any PASSWORDs he is unable or unwilling to crack at the end of each week.
How’s that old friend? Clear enough? I hope so. Along with the new management, we have some new procedures as well. Total Codes and Public Keys. My dear associate No. 17 (which admittedly will take getting used to) will explain the Keys and my protégé Manager No. 1 will explain the total codes. These reports can be
found in the CAFE channel with a password… hm… I’m not sure. Hopefully, it’s not too hard.
Yours nilfully,
Manager No. 0
(Originally hidden in the CaDCom Database: Thankfully, Muldra shares the one common weakness of his kind. We’re going to be under a lot more scrutiny from here on out but we still have our puzzles, ciphers, and riddles. We have to share D & C reports with him but he is, to my knowledge, unaware of our third channel “AND.” He is also very easy to flatter and not one to question things. Some of you are already in on my plan but for those who aren’t please stick with me. I know this is… bad. But is it worse than the darkest hour? Well, I guess we’ll see.)
BARISTA: JACKIE LANG
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-130
There's been no news yet on where Julia might be. I'm going to be helping Nick and Seth with the clean-up of my Cafe, or what's left of it anyway. I feel like it was partially my fault. She came to me for help and look what happened. Lucy's dead, and Julia is missing, possibly dead as well. This is what I get for thinking I was a "real" 8. I should've just turned Sophie away… now look at the mess that's left behind.
Spending time with 8, the real 8, has just shown me how inexperienced I am compared to everyone else. Honestly, I can't help but feel I took down Solomon's Temple by dumb luck at this point. But… 8 does love his sayings, and I think right now he would tell me: "The only failure is self-pity, everything else is just partial success." Although I think he says it in French. Either way, he's right. All of this was at least a partial success. I mean, we stopped Le Leyon right? And before we lost her, we did save Julia. And, I think Lucy would agree that her sacrifice was at the very least a partial success.
I might be the most inexperienced 8. I don't have crazy magic like Jericho, I can't hunt as well as Julius, I don't have Joy's natural intuition, And I'm nothing like the original owner and Jenni, but I think it's a partial success to have one 8 be normal. It keeps all those egotists grounded.
BARISTA: RACHEL ROSETHORN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-131
Hey all! Joy here, and me and Rachel were able to get this uhm, I’m not really sure what it is exactly. A warning? A prophecy? A threat? Whatever it is we were able to get it with the increased psychic energy created by Indrid Cold’s presence. I’m still not sure what most of it means other than some clear references to some occult figures, but the part that really caught my eye was the last part. Is that where Julia is?
Slept a beast of hellish creep
Slow his titan maw did gape
Swallowing all who couldn’t escape
And at the shore of black'n curse
Flies swarmed a lonely ebon hearse
And in its cabby laid a boy
Dead back then, t’was just a ploy
~
For in her breast a demon slept
Hidden to most, a secret well-kept
Seal'd with shapes oh so sacred
Her return was all but fated
And no angel, here on Earth
Could stop that hellish birth
For curs'd twins born to languish
Always end in cleaved anguish
~
And in the thrall of Heaven's Lord
She sat and waited, always bored
Seen that cycle through and through
So she thought she’d seek something new
Not here not there, but elsewhere
Among the clouds and deep despair
She sat and waited for war to break
Then she ate herself like a snake
~
O ancient Lord of plundered gold
Now with country in your hold
No part to take in the war
‘Til the blood is shed no wealth to score
So you chose to make the Devil's bargain
And tie the twin worlds' margin
Yet we cautioned for a barter
Lest you become another martyr
~
Like the boy inside the cabby who slept
He had no choice but to die and then accept
The swarm of flies most foul-n-fear'd
Festering in the Hollow most revered
Still that darkness in him remained
For that hunger can never be chained
No man nor beast'll see him dead
Not until his hunger has been fed
~
So in that cabby the boy did weep
For his soul was played for keeps
But tears dry fast as shadows come
And the boy’s body quick went numb
With nothing left but rage and hate
Against those who dared to seal his fate
So now he gathered his hellish congregation
To cut a path toward all damnation
~
Far away in room unknown
A girl sits sad and all alone
Death and her are one and the same
For she too will bear the curs’ed name
To break the cycle and stop fate
She will need to take the name of eight
Things go up that should go down
Far, far away in J’s hometown
BARISTA: JACKIE LANG, SETH WARREN, NICK LANGLEY
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-132
Jackie
Well, that will haunt my nightmares forever. The plan worked perfectly, though, although unfortunately, there was no Julia in that mess. Things started off pretty normal, although normal might not be the right word. Basically, Magogo is her "name"? We went through the remains of the door frame, but it was like stepping through a portal because once we were on the other side of the frame, we were back in the Cafe. It looked just like it did before the fire, except the walls were covered in this dirty off-white wallpaper, and the lights were much more yellow and much much louder than they ever were. It looked… off. And not only that, but the ceiling was dripping with some sort of thick black syrup-like substance. OH AND THE SMELL! How could I forget the smell! It was like a mix between something burnt, rotten, spoiled, and very chemical, kind of like burnt plastic or hair. And it was SO thick in the air.
Anyway, once Magogo and I were in, she did something Zulu-like, and then Seth was able to warp in with Nick and the other two Astorians. The Astorians wanted to head to where Le Leyon died so they could do their whole clean-up thing. Seth decided to stay by the door, so we could find him if things went '72. Me and Nick decided to follow the black goo stuff down the east hall while the Astorians went down the north hall. As Nick and I entered the old breakroom, we saw what looked like Leyon sitting in the corner, but when they turned around, there was a flash, and everything looked normal again. Like the lights, smells, wallpaper, everything went back to how it was before the fire.
Then "Tyler," "Brent," and "Miranda" came up to me. Miranda said a rushed hello to Nick before informing me that Al Crow was outside the Cafe, and he brought Friday, the Baba Yaga, Midnight, and had the Seed of Sodom with him. Before we had time to react, we heard Seth yell from the entranceway as we ran out to help him. The hallway doors shut, and Friday crawled out from the walls. He took a couple swings at us with his scythe, but Nick was able to fend him off. But then the clock struck midnight, and Friday crawled back into the walls only for Midnight to seep out of the clock. The same thing, he tried to stop us from getting to Seth. Then the hallway twisted like it was a wet rag being rung out, and then it shattered, revealing what looked like the Esterskald, and the Baba Yaga came at us as the blood moon rose over the remains of the Cafe. Finally, I put it together that we were just in the Funk and stopped fighting. We had already stopped Beelzebub and Al Crow. It wasn't Friday the 13th. Baba Yaga is dead. It… well, okay, it might have been past midnight, so Midnight had every right to attack us, but I'm pretty sure Miasma took care of him. What we saw happening wasn't real. It had already happened. Once I stopped playing into the Funk, it flashed away again, and we were back in the break room.
Finally, the Astorians finished the cleansing and the weird yellow Cafe melted away back into ash and rubble. At the center were the remains of Leyon, although they were no longer leaking this black liquid. I think I might've collapsed from exhaustion, but the next thing I knew, I was back at the church. No Julia… but at least that mess is gone. Hopefully forever.
Seth
That was unpleasant. I mean, really unpleasant. I was on “door” duty, more or less, so I was stuck by the entrance. It was… really unsettling to see our Cafe like… that. Like, it was almost how I remember it, but it was off. It was like I was looking at a set of our Cafe. The walls looked cheaper, the lights were way too harsh, and the smell was musty and corrosive. Like I could feel my lungs burning every time I breathed in.
I assume this will be an AND report because I’m too tired to bother with the new numbers. So anyway, Jackie and Nick went off towards the breakroom while Zulu and X-Ray headed towards the body. Leaving me all alone. In the funk. Again, unpleasant. Things mainly were quiet besides the humming of the yellow lights and some general creaks and stuff. I could hear the Zulus chanting something over by the body, then I saw a flash come from the breakroom. The next thing I know, I see Nick run up to me. Jackie got flashed into the funk apparently, but this gave Nick and chance to find Leyon’s mask. So he and I warped around the weird Cafe set, going from room to room (except for where the body was) looking for the mask. It really did feel like a set, though, the farther we went into the funk. Like Jackie’s office, it looked like it was made from cheap styrofoam, and I’m pretty sure I could’ve looked behind the walls at some spots. I was too afraid at that moment to see what might be behind the walls, so I didn’t check. The funny thing is, now that’ll keep me up for the rest of my life. What was behind those fake walls?
Anyway, we couldn’t find the mask, and Nick figured Jackie would be out soon, so I warped him back to her and then back to the door. The weird thing was I didn’t feel like I was actually warping if that makes sense? You know you feel when you try to throw a punch in a dream? That’s almost what this felt like. Usually, when I warp, it feels like a… like an inverted stretch or a contraction, but this felt like I was just popping in and out. Like I wasn’t really me. Long story short, I hate the funk. Thankfully X-Ray and Zulu did whatever it was they did, and the weird Cafe set fell apart, revealing the truth, one burnt down Cafe. A lot of rubble and ash. Well, it was never the place that was special anyway. Jackie passed out, but I was able to catch her. Nick shook hands with the 23’s and they went their way and we went ours. Let’s hope that’s the end of Leyon.
But what was behind those walls? Who was behind those walls?
Nick
Well, it could have gone better, but the fact we all made it out alive speaks something to this partial success. I guess, bad news first, the Zulus almost certainly took the Mask of Masoch with them, among other oddities from the site. I suppose a deal is a deal, but I would have preferred if they didn’t have that very powerful and dangerous artifact with them. Then again, it means we don’t have to store that dangerous and powerful artifact. But as I mentioned, no one died, no one even got hurt. The Zulus were spot on that the remains would psychically link up to Manager Jackie first. From reading her report, it seems like it was showing her past events from that Cafe. Maybe it was feeding off of her memories, trying to reconstitute itself. Luckily Ray works fast.
While Manager Jackie was “in the funk,” as we’ve taken to describing it, Seth and I did a quick search of the Weird Cafe to see if we could find the Mask. No luck, although I did find a few things worth taking home at the request of 8. Can’t talk about those here, but you can always try your luck by asking 8 what they are if you’re dying to know.
So now that Leyon is dead and cleaned up, what exactly was it anyway? Well, I’ve been doing my research into it, and it would seem that Le Leyon was a sort of… mortal conduit for an Elder. It’s more complicated than that, and I’m not sure how much 8 would want me to say about it. The point is, the Elder that was using Leyon is still alive, because well, Elder, but I imagine they’ve been significantly weakened, especially with Lucy’s sacrifice. So, for the time being, I wouldn’t worry anymore about Leyon. Let’s worry instead about Muldra… and how we can make him more money, obviously. He’s great.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-133
Well, no Julia in that mess. Which is a shame. Although I have a feeling, we’ll be seeing her again soon enough. Mr. Cold isn’t one to tell lies. So, consider this case paid. Of course, if she doesn’t turn up by the end of the month, well, we’ll open it back up. For now, that’s my thoughts on the situation, no need to dig deeper.
(Originally hidden in the CaDCom Database: Funny running into you here. I thought I made myself clear, there is no need to dig deeper into the Cold Prophecies. But if you’re here and I’m here, we might as well. First off, “Something Wicked,” well, no surprises there. The Wicked. One of the Cold, a group of Elders older than most, possibly older than the Bird Himself. “Manager No. 7” now that is interesting, no? The implication here is that Julia should be a manager upon her return. Of course, I’ll verify whether or not she bears the name of 8 but assuming she does, she’ll become Manager No. 7. Now here’s something interesting… Cold refers to one of the Cold as “Zulu/Shaka.” I don’t think that’s actually that Elder’s name, although take it with a grain of coffee grounds. Elders don’t really have names, to begin with. “There are only 4 more Sins” already? How time flies. We have what, Asmodeus, Leviathan, Beelzebub, and Mammon still alive. Assuming Cold doesn’t count Belphegor. I’m guessing if they all die, nothing will stand between us and the full fury of the Wicked. He talks about the “Devil’s pick,” but it seems that won’t really be an issue until Julia comes back. Also, Cold seems to think 4 and 71 have betrayed the Cafe. Can’t tell if that’s some cold coffee or…? Well, I think I understand what he means anyway. And if 4 or 71 are reading this, hi. You have nothing to worry about. I trust you for now. I already know about 4’s, well we’ll say connection. And then Cold was pretty explicit about where the portrait of Satan is or, more importantly, isn’t. So… that’s a problem for later. I don’t really want to deal with the Wicked again, not so soon. We’ll get it back when the time is right. I know I skimmed over it, but you can read the full prophecy in the AND channel. Just follow the crumbs I’ve left behind around the Church.)
BARISTA: JULIA WANDSUN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-134
Uhm, hi again, everyone. I’m… back? My memories are a bit fuzzy on what, uh, happened, but I just sort of woke up here again today. I guess I was missing? I mean, the calendar sure says I’ve been missing for like a month. And I guess while I was gone, the Cafe got sold? And now I’m a manager? I’m… very lost, honestly.
I guess I am an 8 technically? The primary 8, or uh Manager No. 0, can sort of “tell” if you are or aren’t an 8. I mean… what even is an 8 anyway? Like, I just thought it was sort of a title that everyone used to say, “hey I’m the owner of this Cafe,” but then like it’s also something that can be divided amongst people and passed down and aghhh, it’s all so confusing!! So I think Manager No. 0 is the 8 or at least the first 8. He then split his 8 into 3 pieces assuming he was going to die. He didn’t, so Nick gave him back his piece, Jenni obviously kept hers, and then Nikki split her piece even further and gave it to Julius, Jericho, and Joy. And somehow, in all that mess, Jackie got a piece from… ??? I guess from “Sophie,” whoever that is. And now I’m back, and I have a piece? Which…??? I don’t know. I mean, I’ll know... eventually, I hope. But for right now, I think it’s okay for me not to know.
So while I was gone, I guess the uh, mess got cleaned up, which is good. I’m still really, really, really, sorry about all of that. I didn’t know- well, I still don’t know exactly why they were after me. But I really appreciate all the help. And also, I’ve been getting accustomed to the CaDCom system, and it looks like some weirdness needs looking into. If you’re still looking for someone to accompany you, Jackie, I’m more than happy to help! Plus, it might be good to learn some of the ropes of this, uh, coffee business thing.
BARISTA: JOY LIVINGSTONE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-135
So like, a lot has been happening lately, huh? I think it’s probably best to focus all of our cosmic vibrations on getting some kind of Third Sight down, which is why I’ve been working with I and Y on some kind of practical method. I mean, yes, it’s probably important to like take care of Otherworldly entities too, which is why Jackie and her team are doing great work, but like we can’t keep firing into the dark, you know? So like 161 has been doing all her, um, outreach stuff with Rem and Nom, I know Jenni has been trying to see if she can somehow use her innate abilities, and I’ve been doing what I do best! Trying to see what remains unseen! Unfortunately, after the um, you know... fire. Not the most recent fire, but like the fire we caused, I’ve been sort of cut off of most of my usual methods of divination. Thankfully I’ve still got one trick up my sleeve. Although it’s not as safe or as fun, but it does still work. So, like, here’s what I’ve “seen” and what I wrote down regarding the whole Third Sight thing.
Albios. Bitu. Dubnos. Orbis Alius.
Heaven. Earth. Hell. Beyond.
Topside. Flipside. Otherside. Otherworld.
Origin. Big Bang. Big Crunch. Deep Thought.
Air. Earth. Fire. Water.
All things come in threes until they come in fours.
Albios around Bitu Dubnos.
Orbis Alius within Bitu Dubnos.
Ever-expanding until the Orbis consumes the Orb.
Center of orgin: Orbianian Plane.
As quick as it comes, as quick as it can go.
To see into the Orbis Alius, one must first see into the Ouroboros.
First Sight begets Second Sight begets Third Sight.
Temporal distortion is likely.
Bending arcs of light, space, time, and spacetime.
See what lacks light to give it form.
Feel what lacks space to give it depth.
Understand what lacks time to give it progress.
The Snake awakes for those who wait.
So like, pull from that what you will. I mean, I think I get it. The Otherworld is coming from the center of, well, everything, which is the Ouroborian Plane. We always list it as a plane of the Otherside because it’s ruled by a Prince of Hell, but it doesn’t really “exist” in the Otherside like the other planes do. It exists at the center of everything in this sort of infinite, lightless, timeless sort of state. No one who goes in comes out. And those who do come out of it are the children of Belphegor, who are like this special reptilian-race of demons. So I think what this all means is... Someone needs to go to Florida, Palm Beach specifically, and try and track down our own little lushy snake buddy Daichi and see if he can help out with all of this. Because, right now, I know neither I nor Y nor I can see into the Ouroboros, and that seems to be what our next step is.
BARISTA: JERICHO MYERSCOUGH
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-136
I had a little chat with Daichi. The transcript is as follows. I've also somehow been suckered into some sort of conference or presentation with Daichi. He can't go because he's, well, a snake, but apparently, if we listen to this presentation on condos or timeshares or whatever, he'll get a free set of golf clubs? Absolutely mad, if you ask me. He's a bloody snake. What does he need golf clubs for? Can he even hold them?
Daichi: Ah, if it isn't my ol' pal Rico! What a pleasant surprise.
Jericho: Good to see you too, old man. How's retirement treating you?
Daichi: You know, one would think it'd get boring, but it is truly divine. Poolside, sunshine, cheap drinks, what more could you ask for?
Jericho: Happy for you. Speaking of drinks do you have-
Daichi: Absinthe? As a matter of fact, yes, I always keep a bottle around for you. So, what did you come to discuss, hm? Finally ready to settle your debts?
Jericho: Cheers, mate. And not yet. The plan is still to put those debts off for as long as we possibly can. I'm here to ask you about the Otherworld.
Daichi: Otherworld? What's that?
Jericho: You don't know? It's a new plane radiating outwards from the Ouroboros.
Daichi: I'll level with you, Rico. I don't spend that much time on the Otherside lately. It's much too, well I'd say "cold," but it isn't. It isn't anything unlike the warmth of this beautiful Floridian sun. We're cold-blooded, you know. So I don't see why Belphie can't let in a little Morningstar light or Infernus heat in every once in a while. So tell me all about this new plane.
//Removed 18 lines of the transcript. The removed transcript can be found in C-KIF02-B.
The reason given: You bloody know what I know about it. You don't want to read me reexplaining it all, right?//
Daichi: Hmm... most interesting. You know, Rico, my tongue is tied in many knots by my mother. She doesn't like me spilling too many secrets of our plane. But perhaps we can make... well, a bargain? A deal?
Jericho: Yeah? And what would that be, mate?
Daichi: As you already are aware, glamours are hit or miss at best for me. So I need a sort of proxy to do some face-to-face work. Person-to-person.
Jericho: Yeah, so what's the catch then?
Daichi: You see, there is this presentation I found a flyer to. If we go and listen to the whole 60-minute pitch, we get a set of free golf clubs.
Jericho: Golf clubs?
Daichi: For free, Rico.
Jericho: Bloody hell, is this what you do around here for fun? Get free crap from, well, bloody snake oil salesmen
Daichi: Haha, don't knock it 'til you try it, kid. Besides, my lips are always much looser on the green, you know that, Rico.
Jericho: I don't think I've ever seen you play golf. I don't even know how you would play golf.
Daichi: Well, my terms are clear. It's up to you, honestly. And I'm sure you'd want to hear what I do know about it...
Jericho: When's this stupid presentation at then?
Daichi: Tomorrow, 5 PM. Thanks ever so much, Rico. I promise the hour will go by fast.
Well, there you have it. I've got to go to some sort of pyramid scheme nonsense to go see tomorrow. I know we love to use our little code-words, but I think Daichi is completely serious. He wants chuffin' free golf clubs from a timeshare presentation. Heaven and hells, Florida.
BARISTA: JERICHO MYERSCOUGH
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-137
I can’t bloody believe it. Somehow I got talked into buying a bleedin’ chuffin’ heaven ‘n hells timeshare ‘ere in Florida. So guess who’s going to be spending next winter in Florida. Sure, Roufyrouf will be thrilled. Maybe I could even lug the rest of the ol’ team back down for a break. Assumin’, there’s no world-ending crisis again. Anyway, Kansai has his golf clubs, and I am out £17G. This information has cost me an arm and a leg, so it had better be worth it. Although, I’d say this is some heavy, heavy information. If you’re the type to have existential crises, maybe don’t give this one a read, yeah?
Daichi: Isn’t it so exciting, Rico? You get to spend your holidays with me again!
Jericho: Look, mate, I’m not here to talk about the bloody timeshare, and you know it.
Daichi: Yeah, yeah, but still, thanks for the clubs. Besides, what do you care? You have both an IRIS pension and Myerscough money to throw around, yet you still dress like a vagabond.
Jericho: It’s not about the money. I was trying to not come back to this place, you know? And now I have a bloody timeshare here.
Daichi: Oh, come on, Rico. You’ve been forgiven. Well. No. Not exactly. But is anyone really forgiven in the eyes of God?
Jericho: Yes, you absolute twit, that’s the whole point of God.
Daichi: Oh, no, I was serious. Has anyone been forgiven? Ever? Think about it.
Jericho: Of course- wait, why? What are you getting at?
Daichi: The Court has been in gridlock for eons at this point because there’s no one to rubber-stamp any of it. No one is being forgiven.
Jericho: What, you mean no God?
Daichi: No God. Just a few Snakes.
Jericho: How long has there been no God?
Daichi: Well, isn’t that the crazy thing about all of this. For as long as there has been, there hasn’t been a God.
Jericho: What? Some sort of temporal an-
Daichi: Anomaly? Taking out GOD? No. No, I don’t think so. Besides, Topside doesn’t work like the Flipside or Otherside. So if time doesn’t flow there, how would a temporal anomaly affect it? Effect Him?
Jericho: So for all of existence, God has been AWOL?
Daichi: Your existence, sure. This universe is a lot younger than you think it is. Going off of Ourborian time... everything ever has only existed since Thursday the 4th, 1988. So, what’s that, 32 of your Earth years?
Jericho: No. Ziggy Stardust. That came out in the 70s right? How do you explain that.
Daichi: It’s all just a copy, Rico. A backup. All that stuff did happen, just they didn’t happen this time around. Or they didn’t happen by anyone’s choice this time around. Bowie didn’t decide to do Ziggy; Ziggy just happened.
Jericho: So, wait, oi, I’m going to need a drink, mate.
Daichi: Eh, don’t worry about it. As far you can tell, the universe could’ve been made last Thursday, and you wouldn’t know the difference. Funny thing, though... Every time the universe is remade, it’s always on a Thursday. Isn’t that strange?
Jericho: Every time, as in plural?
Daichi: Oh sure, this is the 16th time it’s happened.
Jericho: 16th time...
Daichi: Sweet sixteen! Although, it’s a little less sweet knowing we don’t have a captain to this ship, haha. But then again, it’s kind of freeing, isn’t it? Do whatever you want, eat any apples you like, who cares? No one at the moment, that’s who! So like I said, Rico, don’t worry too much about it. Time just happens, and it’s best not to overthink it.
Jericho: Wait, so none of my memories are real?
Daichi: You were born in what, ‘84? 4 years of your memories aren’t “real” or at least aren’t “consciously” real. But really, what were you doing at 4 that was so important you needed the free will to do it? Huh?
Jericho: Mate, this is...
Daichi: It is what it is. Here’s the important thing, though... You need to find God. 32 years doesn’t sound like a long time, and yeah, it isn’t, but a lot can go wrong in those 32 years. I mean, come on, the Cold wasn’t this bold last time around.
Jericho: Find Him? Where would we do that?
Daichi: In and at the End.
Jericho: What?
Daichi: I’ve said what I can say about it. You put the pieces together, Rico. No God. New universe. Strange things radiating from the Ouroboros. In and at the End. Gee, I wonder who could have done this? Now before I get turned into a pair of boots, you’d best be heading back to Cali. It was great seein’ ‘ya pal. Thanks again for the clubs.
So... if that doesn’t put your head in a spin, I don’t know what will. But it seems like if we want to figure out this whole “Otherworld” business, we need to find God. You know, this whole last Thursday stuff is... well, it’s right heavy, isn’t it? But I’m more concerned with what Kansai wants with a bunch of golf clubs. He doesn’t have bloody hands, for God's sake. Well. For lack of God’s sake, innit? If I had to wager a guess, God must be somehow tied to the Otherworld. Perhaps He’s in the bloody thing? Perhaps He is the bloody thing? Hard to say with someone so... well... Him.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-138
First off, I should say this much, I knew God was missing. I've known this whole time. I've known since 1988 that God is nowhere within our universe. Not only that, but I am not from this universe. Well, we don't really call them "universes" Topside. We always just called them Spheres. So you could say I am from the 15th Sphere. And I wasn't expecting the Snake to spill all of the secrets floating around, but it is a solemn reminder that things are moving towards their inevitable ending. If anything, it's impressive we were able to keep this secret for 32 years as is. People tend to notice when God goes missing.
Why do we call them Spheres, though? Well, we exist on a timeline that begins with the Big Bang and will end with the Big Crunch. Following the Big Crunch, a parallel timeline to ours exists, which will end with the Big Bang. It's a cycle. A circle. A Flipside and an Otherside. But there isn't one singular cycle of time, of course. Instead, there is an infinite rotation of minor differences, every decision, every change, every butterfly wings, turns this cycle in space until it forms into a massive endless Sphere. Well, Hypersphere, to be exact, but it's easier just to call it a Sphere. And the Sphere contains all possible timelines.
Timelines can end, as can most things, but it is usually a big deal for every single timeline to end at once. Of course, using the tool that created the first cycle, one can "copy and paste" that cycle and let it spin out into a new Sphere. As far as I am aware, I am from the 15th Sphere; however, I have no way of knowing if I existed in any Spheres before that one. Perhaps I am unique to the 15th Sphere. Or maybe I've been around since the 1st. Who knows? Most people, if not all, are not able to comprehend a past existence in a Sphere outside of their own. Of course, not everything is "reset" when a new Sphere is made. The Topside, Underside, and Ouroboros do not exist within the Sphere, so they remain unchanged. For example, God doesn't have to shove all the rogue Elders back into the Underside every new Sphere. But this would make one think, shouldn't Elders and Ouroborians have immense knowledge of all Spheres? This is not the case. Elders and Ouroborians do not move with time the same way we mortals do. They move on the outside of time. They can recognize a change in Sphere, but it is more or less no different from the last because they only see it from the outside. People change. Places change. Things always change. But rarely do Elders and Ouroborians change.
The main reason I still have memories of the 15th Sphere and what occurred within it is two-fold. On the one hand, I served as a very special agent of God. I was known as the Otherman. My "job" Topside was to ensure that the cycles remained undamaged or that time flowed as it should. Because of this, I have, or had, intimate knowledge of most things past, present, future, and other. The other reason these memories haven't faded is, well, part of why we are in a new Sphere. To begin with, God is missing, and I am once more mortal. I made a deal. I helped use God's Pocketwatch to create a new Sphere, and in exchange, everyone got to come back. All Cafes. Don't thank me yet though, I'm leaving A LOT unsaid here. I think that should go without saying. But until the two I made a deal with are dealt with, I must watch what I say.
So far, this Sphere has remained very similar to the 15th Sphere minus a few slight differences and a temporal dilation of about 1.5 years from what I can tell. Certain people and events are different, but the core results are the same. Well. Were the same. Before Lucifer died. I was the one supposed to die, and the fact that I am still alive has changed things drastically. Perhaps that is why we have this "Otherworld." I wasn't excepting to make it this far, so I am at a bit of a loss now. I'm just as in the dark as all of you. Speaking of "you," my closest of allies. Felix, Nick, and Jenni. I have already explained some of these concepts to you, and while I know you all know different things, know that we are still working together. Working to fix things. Working to make this all right again. You see, when I come, I come to correct, no?
We are not just a CAFE AND DINER. We are a DARN DEFIANCE to those that seek control and dogma. We are the ones who will disrupt the course of Fate. We will extinguish the Wicked. Reveal the Secrets. And deny the Cold their inevitable darkest hour. We are moving towards a checkmate, for Black or White, I cannot say. The Deep Corp 23 may be dead, but long live the Darn Defiance and vive le Cafe et le Diner.
As for what our next steps are, the Snake did provide some useful information. I think it clear that somewhere God lies within the Otherworld. But, of course, He would hide somewhere I know nothing about. It's just like Him. Felix, you will continue your work in currying favor with the others. Nick, continue to keep tabs on our friends, especially those who cannot speak. And Jenni, your work surprisingly can be done in the light for the most part; keep up with your Third Sight investigations. We are going Baltimore soon and will need to be on guard. However, inviting some patrons to stir up some chaos might just be the thing we need right now.
But as always,
Ni renkontiĝas en kafejoj.
BARISTA: FELIX BLACKWOOD
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-139
And so, it begins. Our great work. Our darn defiance of the puppeteers. It only took us 32 years, but better late than never, eh vieil ami?
As the document will be posted to the CaDCom system there is a chance an employee, or even a patron, who is not a part of our Darn Defiance might stumble upon it. So be it. In fact, we welcome it. To a degree, of course. We must operate in the light if we are to dance in the dark. Though we only ask one favor. Please, whatever you do, do not disclose this to Muldra or Sophie. They watch us close enough as is, though the DD protocol should keep Muldra out and Sophie is far too lazy to even attempt it. If our little “after-school club” were to be found by them it wouldn’t be the end of the world, they’ve already gone to great lengths to see to that, but it would be the end of us.
On to business then. As you are all aware, the Owner had arranged the scandal with the Faceless Roamer to lure Jericho into doing something rash. There were a quite a few options that Jericho could’ve have chosen but leading us to Hugo the Tagapagbigay certainly worked in our favor. I accompanied Seth as he warped to pick up Jericho, Nikki, and Katherine which gave me time to speak with Hugo. Of course, he had already given his Abraxas Stone to Jericho and it would be a few months for him to craft a new stone. But we are not interested in wishes, we are looking for an invitation, of sorts. And Mr. Taga, after a long-winded conversation, did end up providing me with such an invitation.
We are now in possession of access sigil to the Hollow of the Esterskald. It is entrance only, so ensure you have a way out before using it. Seth could assist you in getting out, though I am unsure of the limitations of his powers. Still, at the very least he could pick you up elsewhere in the Esterskald. Or, perhaps Beelzebub himself will be willing to send you pack in one piece. If we can get him and Leviathan on our side, it will be a great help in toppling their siblings.
As always,
Ni renkontiĝas en kafejoj
BARISTA: KATHERINE WADE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-140
Last night, a strange man appeared outside my window in Blackwood Manor. He was calling himself a "Mysterious Benefactor." I had a very strange feeling about him, and I wasn't able to get a very good look at him, but from what I could see, he had very long and wild hair, and I think he was wearing a mask of some sort. Luckily, I was able to hit the transcribe button on my CaDCom in time, so here's the transcript. I'm going to leave this as a "Managers Only" receipt in case it's something more serious.
ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚
Katherine: Ah!! Who are you? …What are you? Are you the Ragarou?
Shaka: No, I don't think so. Quite a lovely manor, wouldn't you say? It's a shame it's caused such strife in this town.
Katherine: Uh, I guess so… but who or what are you?
Unknown: Of course, you don't recognize me. We've hardly had a chance to meet. There's no point in more formal introductions now. How about you simply call me your "Mysterious Benefactor."
Katherine: We've met before?
Shaka: Yes. And you're rather lucky Katherine. I am in a more generous mood than I have been in for the last few centuries. That and I think it would be troublesome to kill you. Somehow, you've taken to the blood of Asmodeus, and it seems to have made you rather… unkillable.
Katherine: Asmodeus? Who's that?
Shaka: Ah, I see you have much to learn about the coffee business. She is the Demon Prince of Lust. Ruler of the Necropolis. Patron saint of the dead. With her cruor coursing through your veins, you are, well, almost impossible to kill. Almost.
Katherine: Wait, so I have demon blood in me?
Shaka: In a sense, yes. Quite the feat of the Zulu cult, is not? But you don't just have the blood of a Prince; the blood of a Prince has you. Not to mention your more… latent ambitions. It will start attacking your more human parts should you fail to meet its lust for blood and gore. I'm sure you've already experienced this. However, by feeding into its dark desires—which would seem to be brains in your case, is that right?
Katherine: Um. Yes.
Shaka: By feeding those desires, you may just stay human yet. However, brains aren't the only way to feed this lust. Or, perhaps, I should say the most direct route. No, there are other ways to sate the Prince's blood. And I could illuminate them for you. For a price.
Katherine: What price?
Shaka: For now, I would simply enjoy a tour of the Manor. Nothing more. Though, should our partnership prove fruitful, I have a more… intriguing offer. Should our desires align.
Katherine: I— don't know. It's not my—
Shaka: Decision to make. Of course not. It's not your Manor, is it? And Old Felix probably wouldn't enjoy my snooping about. Well, should you change your mind, I will always be here. Do not forget, we are bound, Dingane. Forever.
BARISTA: KATHERINE WADE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-141
We met a real Angel!! Well, ok, technically a “half-angel,” but still! Apparently, Mosi’vego is the son of the Archangel Raguel. I don’t know who their mom is, but they were very, very pretty! Their skin was either made from or covered in sparkling multicolored gems. Their left half looked kind of like a scorpion, while their right half looked kinda like a bobcat or maybe a lion? Their voice was very deep, almost like a purr mixed with the sound of crystals rubbing together. OH! And they have a beautiful halo of violet flames, which Manager 5 told me afterward denotes their rank within the Court of Angels. Mosi’vego isn’t very high up, not even really mentioned in many religious texts, but basically, their role is that of a “spy,” as Manager 5 put it. They were sent here by the Court of Angels to assess the situation with the Black Tide and the Sunkenman. I wonder if I’ll ever get to visit the Court of Angels?? That’d be sooo cool!!! Manager 5 says it’s “unlikely,” as almost no mortal souls ever go Topside, BUT I’m not even sure if I still have a mortal soul, so it’s worth a shot!
Gimcrack: Well, if it isn’t Jericho Myerscough. Somehow, I should have expected your presence in this mess.
Jericho: Well, well, well… And if it isn’t… Sorry, mate, I’m bad with names. You are?
Gimcrack: By the name of Metatron, Mosi’vego—the Gimcrack.
Jericho: Right… and I know you from…?
Gimcrack: I am a child of Raguel.
Jericho: OH! No foolin’, you’re one of Raguel’s kids, eh? Is he still… you know…?
Gimcrack: Vexed by your reckless actions taken in the Akashic Records? Depends. Last I heard, he was still deliberating. Weighing the cost of stopping the Dark against destroying the First Bible.
Jericho: Well, let’s hope that goes in my favor then, eh?
Gimcrack: It is not my place to judge or to choose sides.
Jericho: Fair enough—shame apathy ain’t a sin like the rest of ‘em. You Angels would have that tidied up. So, what brings you Flipside—across the pond even?
Gimcrack: Things are in motion, [Manager No. 5]—Things far beyond Heaven and Hell.
Jericho: Otherworldly, innit?
Gimcrack: Among other things, yes... To put it bluntly—this “Sunkenman,” was able to open a portion of the Black Tide with a piece of an Antekey. These Antekeys hold dangerous power, power to tip the scales of balance even further from where they are meant to be. They are not of this world, not of His design, we fear—
Jericho: Hang on a tick. A piece of an Antekey?
Gimcrack: Hm? Oh—the Olympian Antekey is a key of three. You didn’t know? Sea, Sky, and Sorrow. Olympians have never been ones to share, have they? The brothers Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades had their Antekey split.
Jericho: I don’t reckon you know where the other two pieces are…?
Gimcrack: Perhaps I do, and perhaps I don’t. If I did, I would have to weigh the benefit of telling you of all mortals. The last time you “helped,” you burnt down countless wings of the Akashic Records, destroying two angelic artifacts. You fight fire with Wicked flames. Just because you’ve managed not to be burned yet doesn’t mean you are fireproof.
Jericho: …Right. Well, it’s been—
Gimcrack: …Nyx, Goddess of the Night, had all three Antekey fragments for a while. With Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon out of the picture, she gave them to the Chthonic furies to safeguard. Megaera, Tisiphone, and Alecto. Megaera attempted to keep her piece safe in the Otherside, but it washed up in the hands of the Finfolk. Tisiphone has safeguarded her fragment somewhere in the Flipside with the help of Dolos, one of Nyx’s children. I assume Alecto kept her fragment in the Olympian Underworld.
Jericho: Choice. Thanks mate. But why—
Gimcrack: It is not my place to judge or to choose sides—but I’ve never personally enjoyed an epilogue.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-142
Well, that was an interesting week, wouldn’t you all agree? Unfortunately, it has drawn Mammon closer to our operations. I am hoping that now that the chaos has passed, he’ll grow bored of our day-to-day life and return to Infernus. It should go without saying I intend to give him none of the Antekeys. We all saw what one-third of an Antekey could do. So giving him a full Antekey, or worse, the full set of four, is undoubtedly a horrible idea. Though, I fear Mammon isn’t looking to open any doors. A key, after all, can both seal and unseal things.
Furthermore, I’d like to add Jericho to our little club. Though, he can be a bit of a wild card. I want to trust him. I do. He is our strongest player, and if we are to best Mammon, we’ll need him on our side. So, I’ve devised a test of loyalty for him, and if he passes, we’ll let him join our ranks. Also up for consideration is Seth. I’ve also been considering Victoria and Julia, but I worry that if they knew the truth, it might impede their progress in uncovering the other truth. If we are to add any of Jackie’s employees… it may be best to start with Jackie herself.
In any case, I had a little chat with the extended family, which I felt you should all see as well.
Definitely & Deviously yours,
8
Belphegor: What a mess.
8: Well, how bad is the damage?
Levi: The cut runs deep against the current, yet… the Tide seems intact. As if it was never open to begin with.
8: Ah. Good. Curious thing, though, isn’t it?
[8 rolled the Pearl in his hand]
8: A key—or a piece of one, anyway. How do you suppose it opened the Black Tide?
Belphegor: It didn’t.
Levi: You don’t mean?
Belphegor: Mm.
8: Realms… Otherworldly… So—the Eighth Plane—?
Belphegor: Remains where it should be. Though its waves have been stirred.
8: I see… Leviathan—to keep this Pearl safe I may require your aid—
Shaka: This is most troubling, isn’t it.
8: Shaka—what a pleasant surprise. What brings you to Mayda?
Shaka: Oh, unrelated business. Well—somewhat related. Is it true you’ve slain the Sunkenman of Algiers, Lord Leviathan?
Levi: Transgressors to the Tide must pay the price.
Shaka: As they should. Well—that frees up my schedule a bit.
8: The Grunches won’t return then?
Shaka: Not as they have before. A debt paid to the Queen. Excellent.
8: What do you make of this “Otherworld,” Shaka?
Shaka: …
8: Oh, come on, you didn’t just show up out of nowhere to confirm something you already knew. You have to know something—
Shaka: It’s an error. A miscalculation. A weak and idle theme.
8: I figured as such.
Belphegor: Can it be undone?
Shaka: Anything that is can come to an end. I suspect that is why your brother is so keen to gather up the keys to the penultimate page. Though—now that it is, would it be fair to see it unmade only because it wasn’t supposed to be in the first place? Something to consider once you reach the end, 8.
BARISTA: JERICHO MYERSCOUGH
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE APRIL
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-143
BLOODY HELLS. LAWDS ABOVE AND BELOW ME, WHAT A NIGHTMARE THIS HAS ALL BEEN. I hope, lord help me, I HOPE, I’ve proven myself to you lot now. Do you know how long it’s goin’ to take for me eyebrows to grow back? It’s not going to be pretty, innit? And- wait. I don’t have to do my cockney gimmick here, do I? well, that’ll make typing this out easier than the usual fair, I suppose. Though, I am actually rather peeved about my eyebrows and the general lack of safety this whole “initiation” had. But the past is in the past, we’re all still alive, and I am ready to defy.
Question though—is Victoria and Julia in on this as well? And what about Amber? It seems to me that a lot of the Cafe is starting to catch on to secrets this club is trying so desperately to cling to. Why’s that? I’m sure Nick can fill me in as he is generally wiser to these sorts of things than I am. I just want to make sure I’m not stepping out of place, choice? I almost died to join this group, and I’d rather not screw it up again. Assuming it was actually me who screwed it up the first time around.
Another question that’s on my mind with this whole Satan business… What’s our end game? I know the old man said we’re going to be killing off the lot of them, preventing Satan from escaping, but don’t we have more pressing things to worry about, like his brother who is actively trying to take control of the bloody universe? Hell—I’m not even all that concerned about Mammon. It’s just Mammon. He never wins these sorts of games. I’m worried about his coconspirator, Belphegor. She’s what, the oldest and strongest of the Princes? The fact that she’s doing anything at all is a bit terrifying. I get it, she was on our side at one point, but clearly, ever since this Otherworld popped up, she sure has been taking her swings at us. Like I said, Mammon, we can handle. We can defy his will. But Belphegor? 8… I understand she’s your mate… but lord, she’s starting to act more like a friend than a mate.
BARISTA: KATHERINE WADE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE MAY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-144
I… think I’ll keep this receipt hidden, at least for now. I… met with the Mysterious Benefactor again. The man who spoke with me in New Orleans. I… suppose I made a deal with him. In exchange for a tour of Blackwood Manor, he told me a lot about myself. More than I could have hoped… and perhaps more than I should’ve known. The transcript got cut off, which I believe was his doing. Not that I would’ve shared much else of what he said. My lips are sealed.
ଘ(੭ˊzˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚
Shaka: Have you given my request any further thought?
Katherine: Ah!! Gosh, you scared me! You can’t just—wait, how’d you find me?
Shaka: We are always connected, Dingane.
Katherine: Why do you keep calling me that?
Shaka: Mm… Have you given my proposal any further thought?
Katherine: Wha—
Shaka: A tour of Blackwood Manor?
Katherine: We aren’t—
[Shaka snapped his fingers. In an instant, Shaka and Katherine were standing outside of Blackwood Manor.]
Katherine: GAH!! What?! How did you—
Shaka: A miracle. Nothing more. So? A tour?
Katherine: It’s— I don’t know… I shouldn’t.
[Shaka snapped his fingers again, opening the door.]
Shaka: Consider it this way, Dingane: I could explore the Manor on my own. There is nothing stopping me. So, wouldn’t you rather have a member of your organization accompany me? To ensure I cause no harm.
Katherine: I… Okay. But you have to tell me about my Asmodian Blood. And—
Shaka: Oh yes, and everything I know. Come along, Dingane. We have much to discuss.
Katherine: Why do you keep calling me that?
Shaka: He was the one you ate when your powers first awakened. Flesh provides you with memories, and blood provides you with emotions. That much you already know. Yet—there is more to feast upon than mere flesh and blood, Dingane. You have the blessing of Asmodeus, the Prince of Lust—possibly the greatest of the deadly sins. Lust is, after all, all that remains when nothing else does. Everyone has something they desire.
Katherine: …So what do you desire?
Shaka: An out.
…
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY JUNE
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-145
Are we slipping? It’s entirely possible that “Manager No. 2”—Muldra Yonomo—has beaten us to the punch. He’s been keeping an annoyingly close eye on our operations lately, and he’s had more than enough time to use Felix’s freshly crafted sigil to slip in and out of Nightmarch undetected. Perhaps I’ve underestimated him. Perhaps he knows full well that he’s holding a mundane marble while I still have the helm, the pearl, and the thunderbolt. Perhaps our little game has truly begun.
Let’s be clear: Mammon is up to something. He has been from the very beginning—since we shook hands and remade the Universe. And despite everything I know, despite all the time I’ve had to piece together his angle, I still haven’t quite figured it out. At the very least, I know the Otherworld and its “End” play a part in his plans. To reach the End, he’ll need access to its Antechamber. And to get to the Antechamber… well, you all see where this is going, don’t you?
Thankfully, if he’s caught on to our little defiance, we’re still tied. Neck and neck. Antekey for Antekey. But if he hasn’t wised up, then we still have one more Antekey to find and the Badb’s latest Omen has been, well, less than helpful. Like the other major Omens, it aligns with a Sermon of the Seven—prophecies spun by Fate itself.
It wouldn’t surprise me if the Badb is working hand in hand with Fate. Birds of feather, after all. While the Omen doesn’t give as clear a direction on where to find the next Antekey, it’s painfully clear what I must do with it regardless—what Fate, no doubt, intends for me to do. And what choice do I have?
It was a Devil’s bargain that cleaved this new world’s margin. But the deal wasn’t between Mammon and me. It never has been. I made a deal with the Devil’s eldest child. With the first sin. With inaction itself.
Belphegor.
And it is perhaps time we settled up.
Yours,
Indebted and indolently,
8
BARISTA: JACKIE LANG
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-146
New year, new CaDComs—courtesy of Sarah Blackwood and Barista Technologies. I know, I know—getting used to a new system is never fun. But we can't keep using the old CaDCom Series M from Muldra, right? He might be gone, but I wouldn’t put it past him to have left some hidden backdoor in those gaudy piles of junk.
Speaking of the new year, we've had a management shake-up. Muldra Yonomo is now serving a 33-year prison sentence, and control of the Cafe and Diner has returned to Manager No. 0. However, to keep things running smoothly, Manager No. 0 has chosen to split ownership eight ways. That means myself, along with Jenni, Nick, Julius, Jericho, Joy, and Julia, are now equal owners. On a related note, the title of No. 2 has officially been reassigned from the felonious Muldra to our own Nick Langley.
We've also gone full cappuccino and decided to expand our operations. Now, we're splitting efforts across three locations: the Church in Long Beach, the old Florida Cafe, and a brand-new spot in Long Island, New York—sort of like a spiritual successor to the Third Cafe.
Lastly, there's the matter of our missing employees—Nikki and Seth. We're... still not entirely sure what happened to them after we left the End. One moment they were here, and the next—gone. Nick and Jericho have volunteered to search for them in the Otherside—and, yes, Otherworld, which Julia has insisted we keep on our books permanently.
Yours from a new location,
Jackie
BARISTA: NICK LANGLEY
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-147
Jericho and I have arrived safely in the Necropolis. We've got some other business to handle while we're here, but our primary objective is still to find and rescue Seth and Nikki.
Our plan is to comb through the Otherside, starting from the bottom and working our way up. Worst case, we may have to dip back into the Otherworld—and maybe even a bit higher up.
I’m pretty sure everyone was there when it happened, but for posterity’s sake, here’s a quick recap: When we freed God from the Antechamber at the End, His return sent a ripple through the Universe, correcting the abnormalities caused by Mammon’s sloppy recreation—or more like like a “rewinding”—of the Universe. In the prior Universe, it seems both Seth and Nikki shouldn’t have existed in the Flipside for reasons we still don’t fully understand. No. 0, having lost his specific memories of the old Universe, couldn’t confirm this, but there’s strong evidence that they were "fated" not to be. Of course, using a word like "fated" opens up a whole can of worms. Whether it was fate, destiny, or whatever, it doesn’t really matter. What does matter is that they're missing from the Flipside entirely.
On the bright side, this gives Jericho and me a chance to check in with the powers that be in the Otherside following our latest cosmic upheaval. While the fate of Seth and Nikki remains uncertain, we have God's assurance that once we find them, He will restore them to where they belong, as a reward for their role in freeing Him.
But first… we have to find them.
BARISTA: JULIA WANDSUN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-148
Back into the swing of things, I guess! Not that we’ve had much time to catch our breath. Oh well. On the bright side, Mammon’s been encased in a thick layer of "astral" gold—or was it "celestial" gold? Doesn’t really matter. And honestly, I have no idea what makes gold astral or celestial in the first place. Either way, it should keep him immobilized for... I think God said 33 Flipside years. Kinda short for trying to take over the Universe, don’t you think?
Now that we’ve found and freed God from the End, and the Otherworld seems to be here to stay, we can turn our focus back to regular Cafe and Diner business. Which, to me, has always been about Otherworldly adventures and such. But from what I gather, the Cafe usually deals with Otherside affairs. And, as far as we know, there’s still a massive war raging in the Otherside, specifically in the Necropolis. Some guy called the Morbid King is trying to overthrow Asmodeus to reclaim the "homeland" of the Shadowfolk—blah, blah, blah. I’m not particularly interested in Morbid King's propaganda.
What is important is that my decision to keep the Otherworld instead of letting it all drift into the End has given the Morbid King and his followers a potential opportunity. Each Plane of the Otherworld was anchored to a Plane in the Otherside: Avalon to Morningstar, Duat to Infernus, the Nine Realms to Hauntaurskald, Olympus to Esterskald, Nightmarch to Mayda... but nothing ever anchored to the Necropolis.
Now, it’s possible the Morbid King might try to create a new Plane in the Otherworld and anchor it to the Necropolis—something that suits his needs, kind of like how Mammon opened Duat.
BARISTA: JERICHO MYERSCOUGH
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-149
We managed to snag a quick chat with Asmodeus. Scary one, she is, choice? At least we left unwhipped, though under the right circumstances, I wouldn’t have minded much. We filled her in on Caassimolar’s plot, and as thanks, she’s taking Nick and me up to Mayda through that little whirlpool near the top of the Spire. She’s even letting Leviathan know we’ll be swimming around in his waters, so fingers crossed we don’t get gutted by his Horrors when we start out at the bottom of his Plane.
No sign of Nikki or Seth in the Necropolis, though. I figure they might’ve been stuck in the Everdark, but Asmodeus doesn’t seem to think so. Given Seth’s connection to the whole Plane of Amaymon, she claims she’d know if he was in there. Honestly? I’m not feeling too confident about finding them in Mayda either. But then again, there’s the Black Tide, isn’t there? I doubt even Seth could warp his way out of that one, and if the universe was looking for a place to stash them when things got reset… that’s as good a guess as any.
Asmodeus: Ah, if it isn’t Nicholas Langley and Jericho Myerscough. I’ve heard you two have been trotting through my Plane. Uninvited. In the middle of a war. How bold.
Nick: Sorry—we’re looking for someone. My sister.
Jericho: And Seth Warren.
Asmodeus: Ah—Seth Warren. The Necropolis would be a clever place to check for such a... folly. Can’t your little Seth simply “warp” his way back to you?
Nick: Yeah. That’s why we’re looking. They’ve… vanished. Completely.
Asmodeus: Hm. Vanished, you say? Well, with the way Seth likes to tinker with my Plane’s energy, I’d know if he were here. He is not. And as for your sister, her…
Nick: Nymphomaniac tendencies.
Jericho: God bless ’er.
Asmodeus: Yes. That’s certainly one way to put it. If she were here, trust me—I’d know. Not to mention her little friend, Naberius, would have alerted me to her presence.
Nick: How is Naberius, by the way?
Asmodeus: Exhausted by this tiresome conflict. And aren’t we all?
Jericho: Speaking of your little play-demons—
[Jericho pulled out the dagger, holding it by the blade, and handed it to Asmodeus.]
Jericho: Caassimolar wanted us to kill you. What’s that about, love?
Asmodeus: Caassimolar? Hm. Murder does seem like his style. But my murder? Oh, no. That’s a sin I simply cannot let slide.
Nick: And now that we’ve warned you, he’ll want us dead too.
Asmodeus: Naturally. Where are you off to next? Back to the Flipside?
[Nick shook his head and looked up at the swirling abyss above them.]
Nick: We were thinking… up.
Asmodeus: I see. I can assist you with that. There’s a hidden passage between our Planes. I’ll even let my brother know you’re stopping by. No need to have him as startled as I was.
Jericho: Thanks, Asmi.
Asmodeus: That’s Mistress Asmodeus to you, Warlock.
Jericho: Apologies, Mistress Asmodeus.
Asmodeus: Good. She has you trained well, hm? Now, did you two see or hear anything else worth my attention? I’ve been sequestered in this Spire for months thanks to this war, and news has become a rare treat.
Nick: There’s been talk of the Eclipse Wall weakening from within.
Asmodeus: Interesting. Unfortunately, that’s beyond my control. The more humans die, the more the wall expands. It’s a rather flexible thing… until the next wall forms.
Jericho: Couldn’t you just make a new wall then?
Asmodeus: Me? Oh no, dear. I don’t make the Rings of the Necropolis. The Spire does. How it chooses to form new Rings is a mystery, even to me. You’d have to consult the First Bible to know why. Oh—wait. Someone burnt it, didn’t they?
Jericho: Even if I hadn’t… could you have read it?
Asmodeus: I wouldn’t have cared to.
BARISTA: NICK LANGLEY
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-150
Leviathan finally wrapped up whatever business had consumed him and met with Jericho and me on the Isle of Asmayda. He seems pretty concerned about the war in the Necropolis. As he pointed out it could directly impact his Plane, after all. And if the Morbid King manages to take the Esterskald, there’s not much stopping him from claiming Hauntaurskald, Infernus, and Morningstar next. Ouroboros should remain safe, but its safety only fuels Belphegor’s apathy.
On another note, it seems Nikki and Seth are nowhere to be found in Mayda’s waters—not even in the darker, unreachable depths. We’re going to try our luck in the Esterskald next. It’s possible they got lost in the vast, lush greens of Beelzebub’s domain. Judging by Leviathan’s tone, Beelzebub is staying as far away from all this as possible, likely too preoccupied with his endless feasts.
Leviathan: Apologies for keeping you waiting.
Jericho: No trouble, mate. Your Horrors have been very accommodating.
Leviathan: As they should be. Despite our… turbulent past, the Cafe and Diner is currently an ally of Mayda.
Nick: Sorry about that, by the way. It was neither of our Cafes, of course, but I’ve heard about what happened.
Leviathan: Yes, well, it wasn’t the Cafe that orchestrated that mess, was it? It was Umbra the Hatman. And now that horrid shadow has sided with the Morbid King of the Everdark.
Jericho: Absolute wanker, I agree.
Leviathan: Mm. I wouldn’t have phrased it quite like that, but yes, Umbra is certainly troublesome. Though, I suppose it’s the nature of shadows to envy those with form and purpose.
Nick: You think the Morbid King is driven by envy?
Leviathan: Perhaps. Envy is a rather deadly sin, after all. I would know. Truthfully, I know very little about the Morbid King’s crusade against my sister’s Plane. But it threatens us all, even if Beelzebub and Belphegor prefer to stay out of it. We’re all that’s left.
Jericho: Right. Satan, Lucifer, and Mammon—to an extent—are out of the picture now. The Upper-half of the Otherside is ripe for the taking if the Morbid King can break through the Lower-half.
Leviathan: Exactly.
Nick: Were you able to find what you were searching for?
Leviathan: What do you mean?
Nick: In the Tide. We assumed you were there, looking for Elders to aid your sister.
Leviathan: None can enter or leave the Tide.
Jericho: So, where in Mayda were you, then?
Leviathan: Mayda’s depths are fathomless, after all…
[Leviathan lowered his voice to a whisper.]
Leviathan: If—if—I could survive the hypnagogic properties of the Tide, that would not be something I would openly discuss—especially now that the true keeper of the Tide has returned to His Holy Throne.
Nick: Ah, of course. So, you weren’t in the Tide. You couldn’t have been.
Leviathan: And for what it’s worth, they aren’t in there either. Your fellow baristas.
Jericho: They aren’t?
Leviathan: Would you go check yourself? Trust me. I would’ve noticed two humans out of place down there.
Nick: And I assume you can sense everything that swims in your waters?
Leviathan: Yes. They are not here, either.
Jericho: Damn. Well, I guess we’ll have to head further up the course. What’s the quickest way to your big brother’s Plane, then?
Nick: Safest way.
Jericho: Right. Safe and quick.
Leviathan: Unfortunately, our Planes no longer fully connect. A consequence of the Skald’s splitting. However, the Tempest can carry you to the Esterskald.
Jericho: Great—
Leviathan: In… a few days. The Tempest moves of its own accord, and I’d prefer not to fight with it more than necessary.
Jericho: It…? Is it…?
Leviathan: Oh yes. The Tempest is alive. It should swirl toward the Cliffs of Bloat near the Emerald Shore within a few days. Until then, you are welcome to stay in my Plane as my guests.
BARISTA: JERICHO MYERSCOUGH
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-151
Right, well, that’s Beelzebub for you. Powerful, knowledgeable, and somehow lazier than bloody Belphegor. Fat ass gave us a few morsels of information—more than comfort food, I’d reckon. But he could’ve just been feeding us a load of bull to get us out of his court as quickly as possible. He doesn’t like dealing with humans. Doesn’t even much care for demons, honestly.
In any case, Nick and I headed back to the Flipside to regroup before we dive into Pandemonium.
Beelzebub: My, my… if it isn’t the humans who’ve been making quite a stir downstairs. What brings you two to my Hollow, hmm? Looking for your friends? I haven’t seen them. Looking for aid in my sister’s war? I couldn’t care less. Or is this just a social call? Here to indulge yourselves in the fathomless bounties of my feasts?
Nick: Social call, believe it or not. We know my sister and Seth aren’t here.
Jericho: And between you and me, mate, I couldn’t care less about that stupid war either.
Beelzebub: I’ll admit… you’ve piqued my interest. It’s not every day someone has the audacity to request favors without offering something in return. Especially here.
Nick: Favor? We haven’t—
Beelzebub: Haven’t you? Even stepping into my court without a gift in hand—without a meal for the feast below—that’s foolish, you know.
Jericho: Oh, come off it, Beez. Here ya’ go.
[No. 5 reached into his pouch, pulled out a strange lump wrapped in light green leaves, dripping with deep red juices, and tossed it to Beelzebub.]
Nick: Eugh, what the hell is that?
Jericho: Century Squonk. Heard of a Century Egg?
Nick: Sure.
Jericho: Squonkify it. Aged and fermented meat, more or less. A delicacy.
Nick: When did you—
Jericho: Come on, you didn’t expect to go before the Prince of Gluttony without an offering? Did they teach you nothing at the Agency?
Beelzebub: An acceptable offering. More than acceptable. Perhaps too good to share with the wretches below…
Jericho: All yours. Now—I know why I don’t give a rat’s arse about the war in the Otherside, but why don’t you? If the Necropolis falls, Mayda goes with it… and Esterskald’s not far behind.
Beelzebub: I have nothing the shadows want. Gluttonous pleasures can never sate those without form or function. At most, they’ll march through Esterskald on their way to Infernus, their true goal.
Nick: Their true goal?
Beelzebub: To want… one must first want nothing at all.
Jericho: …The Caelus…? Surely the shadowfolk can’t just cross into it—they would’ve done it by now. Hell, Umbra would’ve done it to get the Enochian Bible in a heartbeat.
Beelzebub: It’s not the shadows themselves who can slip into the boundless skies of endless desires—it’s their King.
Nick: The Morbid King wants… nothing? That can’t be right. He wants to take the Spire, he wants to kill Asmodeus, he wants—
Beelzebub: He wants to die. It was stolen from him long ago. To want death… surely that is as good as wanting nothing at all. And in exchange for securing the Caelus? I’m certain he will receive his due reward.
Jericho: How do you know all this?
Beelzebub: Consider me gluttonous for knowledge as well.
Jericho: Sure, but you don’t get out of the Hollow—ever. Where did you get all this “knowledge”?
Beelzebub: It began in my Plane… the birth of the Morbid King.
Nick: What do you mean?
Beelzebub: I mean much more than a simple shank of Squonk. More than I suspect either of you can procure. My hunger runs deeper than any human could fathom.
Jericho: Fine. Well… let’s hope you’re right, big boy. Let’s hope the Morbid King leaves Esterskald in one piece as he marches on to Infernus.
Beelzebub: Mmm. I fear your pleas still fall on deaf ears. Even if the situation were truly dire… it will be the Feast soon—and I never miss a Feast.
BARISTA: JERICHO MYERSCOUGH
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE SEPTEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-152
Right, well... bloody hell. I can’t believe she’s dead. Well, “functionally” dead. I can’t believe me and Nick spent nine months searching the Flipside, Otherside, Underside, Topside, and bloody Limbo just for her and her new boy toy to commit God-Assisted suicide. Just to be clear, I’m not mad at Seth. I don’t even know if I’m mad at Nikki. I get it. I bloody well get it. Things are in motion that are bigger than us. Bigger than what we used to be. I think what stings the most was the lack of hesitation from her. Stuck in Limbo for the better part of nine months, and instead of going home, she jumps into an entirely different circle of hell, literally and metaphorically. Then, THEN, bloody 8. BLOODY BLOOMING ARSEHOLE 8. “Right, mate, well I’m off too.”
8. Can’t get around it much longer, yeah? He’s sodded off to work with God and Belphie. You know, I’m not mad at Seth, or Nikki, or even 8. God. I’m mad at God. He doesn’t, no He couldn’t understand how we feel about all this. He feels now that He’s back in charge He can move us around like pieces on a chessboard. Problem with chess is you have to sacrifice your pawns to make advances. Anyway, on the surface, Jenni is the new owner, yeah? Makes sense. She should be. But if we’re going by ownership over the Mantle, say hello to your new leader. I’m sitting with three-eighths of the full thing. Jenni, Nick, Jackie, Jules, and Joy all have an eighth themselves, and Julia has whatever it is she has. The negative eight? Imaginary eight? I could never keep track of that lot.
So how did I end up with the biggest share? Well, as you all know, 8’s gone off to play Otherman again. And being the Otherman doesn’t really require the Mantle, choice? Hell, I don’t know if he could have kept it with him if he wanted to. That’s all above my head anyway. The thing is, I drink, or drank, to keep the Wicked at bay. Every time I used my magic, he would seep deeper into my thoughts. Now it’s fun to punish my liver on a daily basis when I’m in a good mood, but with everything that’s happened, well, the bottle will do more damage to me than the Wicked. That, however, puts me in a rather precarious position where I can no longer use my magic at risk of becoming the next Miss. Masoch. Unless. Unless I have the Mantle to protect me. And 8, 8 he knew this. So he slipped me his totem, a literal Ace. Can it protect me? Can they protect me? Will they? Well, that’s the fun of it, yeah? No way of knowing ‘til we try it out. Now my previous one-twenty-fourth of the Mantle wasn’t going to cut it, clearly, but now that I hold three-eights... well, maybe that can keep the Wicked out. For the time being, of course. It’s like a bandaid on a bone-deep cut. Eventually, I’ll need stitches before it festers, but we’ll work that out later.
Now I am all for just unleashing my full powers and seeing if the Mantle of Eight can handle the encroaching blight, but I feel like I should take SOME precaution, yeah? Problem with the Mantle is it’s not something that’s too easy to test with. It’s all or nothing, and it’s not as tangible as I’d like. I think the best course of action would be to have Joy or Rach, or Jenny use their "intuition" to see if they can’t tap into "it" to get an answer. 8 didn’t just toss me his totem and call it a day. He did clue me in a bit to how it all works. And, I will say, having three-eights does lend a bit more insight than I’ve ever previously had.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair, after all.
BARISTA: TRAVIS NORRIS
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE SEPTEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-153
Howdy, y'all. Love the new CaDCom header, by the way. Mighty slick if 'n 'ya ask me. But y'all ain't tuning in for the pleasantries, y'all want to know about our little Demon out in here in Dover. Speakin' of, however, there is one minor pleasantry I reckon I must rectify before gettin' too far into this here report. Zach said he'd put in the full email we got on the site, but then due to the unexpected and unexplained, he had to rush off before he had time to add it in. Now, I will say, it ain't much, but I reckon it's got some hidden morsels of comfort food in it still. The full email was:
Mon, Sep 20, 5:19 AM
Subject: Dover Demon (Mr. Bartlett?)
General Location: Dover, Massachusetts
Description: Weird little rosy-orangy alien looking thing. I don't think it's dangerous but it's worth keeping an eye on I suppose.
Now ain't that, as Zach would put it, "strange." I say this because this patron/friend/customer/what-have-you saw our Dover Demon. Saw him good enough to write to us. Yet they don't seem, well, I reckon I'd say perturbed by the presence of this "weird little" fella. Ah, right, speakin' of weird little fellas, Nick is on this order. You see, he reckons this Dover Demon fella must be some sort of extraterrestrial being. Which, I shouldn't have to point out, makes not a lick of sense. He plum trekked through the ENTIRE Otherside AND Topside AND sakes alive LIMBO. Shoot, he probably knows how this whole cosmic mess we live in works better than any of us here. And you know what? I asked him if he saw any signs that there is non-human, non-demon, non-angelic, non-elder life while you were up there. He said no, of course, but that the lack of proof all but confirms their existence. 'Ya know, for him being our most intelligent employee... boy, I wonder about him sometimes.
Well, back on the topic subject, we ain't had NOTHING yet. Just more funny light patterns in the sky. We've been runnin' around like chickens with their heads cut off tryin' to get to the lights before they vanish, but me and Zach just ain't quick enough. Nick has been "triangulatin'" and doing "deep sonar sweeps." Not sure how the sonar will help, but the triangulation might help us pin down this, "Mr. Bartlett." Which 'an reminds me. We are pretty settled on "Mr." Ain't been any strange deaths around here. Seems like he's gonna be a harmless fella. An odd fella. But harmless.
Keep y'all updated
BARISTA: RACHEL ROSETHORN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY OCTOBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-154
Thrice the coffee has been brewed.
Thrice and once the sign has flipped.
The Debtor cries, “Tis time, ‘tis time.”
Round the filter, pour it slow.
Figure eights from gooseneck go.
Wet the paper, add the grounds.
Let it bloom and seep its browns.
From the gooseneck, trickle eights.
Open now these hellish gates.
Octal, octal, in darkest hours;
Coffee brew with hidden powers.
By the whispers of ill-fated sons,
Something Wicked this way comes.
~
Poor Devil, it strikes me as a very pretty tragedy,
To pay such a toll for the crime of mere apathy.
Though one way or another, all debt must come due,
Plus, of course, the immortal interest it will accrue.
So take, if you must, the man who is Other,
Turn the coins over, and you’ll see Another.
Here Fate
To Itself doth wait,
At the furthest ring of Heaven;
At the Cold and bitter ends
We will meet as friends,
And all that will remain is the question:
~
If a line in nature is not found;
And time resets and is rewound;
What good is punishment divine;
If our time is bottled Klein;
If our Fate is prior sealed;
Why keep Secrets so concealed;
If ice will burn in Wicked flame;
Is the winder not to blame?
~
And if the winder is to blame...
Would you dare to venture past your mortal coil,
And leave this Flipside plane?
If you could,
And if you would,
You might just find yourself lost,
Once more upon a dreary hidden lane.
BARISTA: FELIX BLACKWOOD
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID OCTOBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-155
I have just returned from Blackwood Manor, and rest assured, the portrait is safe from Miss. Cece’s claws. We have kept the portrait safe from the flames of Ojai, the blade of Brunt, the mandibles of Berry, the ooze of Merry, the frozen clutches of Six, the greedy sack of Schwarz, and of course, many others. Twelve, others, to be exact. To list them all might be a bit pedantic, no? The point I am trying to make is, what is one more boogieman to kill?
However, I caution against haste in this matter. Yes, the clear path in front of us is to defeat El Coco and put an end to Satan’s little contingency plan. Though, there could be another path we have yet to consider. What if we were to be the ones to release the sealed away, Prince? I know the idea sounds rather unappealing, and trust me, I was there the first time we put him away. I know what he is capable of. Though as it stands, our more prominent threat, the consortium of Elders known as the Cold, has three of the Keys to the Gates of Hell, Satan’s being one of them. They are one dead Leviathan or Beelzebub away from tipping the scales in their favor. However, upon releasing Satan from his prison, it could potentially have his Key returned to him. And if it does not happen immediately, well, knowing Satan, he would get it back one way or another.
Satan returning would also calm the Hauntaurskald, as much as that hellscape can be calmed, and it would put a quick end to the Sevenfold Sect and their brand of tyranny. But is one evil worth another? It is a troubling question to ponder indeed. You must be thinking, well, can we not just kill El Coco and come to a consensus on Satan’s parole later? Unfortunately, no. While he does not need all 13 regents to return to this plane, he needs at least one. Of course, we only found out about this “fire and brimstone plan” after cutting our way through about half of his regents. If we kill Coco, Satan is trapped for at least a few thousand years until a new batch of boogiemen can try again, and I have a feeling Cain wouldn’t allow that anyway if we are not all dead from the Cold. If we turn the portrait over to El Coco Satan is unleashed, and there is no telling what he might do in retaliation against us, the Otherside, the Flipside, whatever catches his unending wrath, I suppose. We could also do nothing, but El Coco would probably pick us off one by one and eventually unleash Satan on her own terms. Inaction is worse than action, more often than not. We must position ourselves one way or the other if we wish to sit at the table.
This is not my choice to make, nor do I suspect it is any one of ours alone. No. 1 has authorized a poll of sorts for both patrons and employees.
If you are in support of putting an end to El Coco and keeping Satan imprisoned for the foreseeable future and as a consequence, The Cold keeping hold of Satan’s Key: put an X in the comments either on your CaDCom or on the Archive Site.
If you are in support of allowing Satan to return, potentially taking a Key away from The Cold and putting an end to Sevenfold’s control of the Hauntaurskald and as a consequence having to deal with any potential latent wrath of Satan: put an O in the comments either on your CaDCom or on the Archive Site.
X for ending Cece and keeping Satan trapped
O for letting Satan escape and keeping the Keys out of The Cold's hands
BARISTA: NICK LANGLEY
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE OCTOBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-156
The choice has been made. Thank you to everyone who voted, employees, patrons, friends, and others. It was close and ultimately came down to one vote, which was in favor of releasing Satan from his prison. It is impossible to say what consequences this action will hold, but at least we have a chance to disrupt the Cold's plans.
Tomorrow marks the 24th anniversary of Satan's imprisonment, so it is only fitting that tomorrow will be the day we let him out. However, to break the seal that currently keeps Satan trapped, we need the blood of one of his regents and a drop of blood from those who sealed him away. There are two immediate problems and three smaller problems with that. The original owner and Nicole are no longer with us. Which… complicates things. The good news is my blood should work more or less the same as Nicole's, but… the original owner's blood would be a bit harder to imitate. Mind you, "blood" in this sense is a little more esoteric than scientific. We also need the blood of Sahir Bali, Aelan Analu, and Salenna Whitaker. The good news with those three is they are at least still Flipside. Julius knows where Aelan is and is already working on getting her sample. I know where Salenna ended up, so I'll see if I can get her on board though it might be a tough sell. And Sahir… is harder to track down. Though, my parents, Ned and Nancy, will see if they can't find him through his extensive network of contacts.
That only leaves 8. We're going to have to think outside of the box on that one. Well… I have one favor I might be able to call in. Not sure if it'll work out, but if there's one person who could get a sample of 8's blood, it'd probably be him. Plus, I've always heard that you don't want to owe a Langley a favor. Now I guess I get to put that to the test. Assuming we can get everything needed, we'll do the ritual tomorrow, probably at midnight if I had to guess. We'll also have to go back to where the original Cafe was. Which is now a fast-food joint. No, not like a cult or something, like an actual fast food joint. I think it's an In-and-Out now. So, well, hopefully, summoning the dark prince of wrath doesn't mess up their restaurant too much.
BARISTA: ALEX GÁLVEZ
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE OCTOBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-157
Happy Halloween, the Dark Prince has returned.
I didn’t vote for him personally, but, hey, I get it. So the thing about Satan is, he’s kind of the worst Prince of Hell. Like, tourists know him as being the worst of the worst. Not everyone knows Belphegor, but everyone knows Satan. And yeah, I know, “Prince of Hell” doesn’t sound very pleasant, to begin with, but Satan is one of three more “classically evil” Princes along with Mammon and Asmodeus. And Mammon is currently encased in gold, and Asmodeus is dead, so I was kind of looking forward to some peace and quiet. Mammon tried to control the Cafe and Diner for the better part of 30ish years, but Satan tried to outright kill us and bring forth the apocalypse. Oh well. Gotta pay these debts somehow. Trying to stay positive, though, the ritual did minimal damage to the tourist’s restaurant. Will the morning staff be concerned about the fire damage and occult sigils everywhere? Yes. Will they think it was a teen’s Halloween prank? Oh, I’ll ensure that they do.
Anyway, the transcript of our dark deed is as follows. I think it’s clear we have not seen even close to the last of Satan yet.
El Coco: My, my, isn’t it a bit late to still be up?
Jenni: You’re right Coco, we’ll just be off to bed then.
El Coco: Oh come now, Jennifer, I jest. I’m glad we were able to resolve this without any unpleasantries.
Nick: Your twelve dead friends don’t count as unpleasantries?
El Coco: Ha. Boogiemen are not friends. Their undoing was the fault of their own weakness. The Dark Lord will be most pleased they are no longer among his ranks.
Felix: Yes, yes... boogiemen are “so” frightening, “so” bloodthirsty. Can we please just proceed with this?
Miss: Cece: Yes, let’s.
[Jenni, Nick, Felix, and Alex performed the ritual of unsealing along with El Coco returning Satan to the Flipside.]
Satan: By fire and brimstone, I return. And by the very hand of those who sealed me away? How fitting. Where is the Bastard of Baltimore?
Jenni: Dead.
Satan: So, then who is your leader?
Jenni: Technically, that’s me.
Satan: Ah. Young Jennifer. Well, older now. How long was I ensnared?
El Coco: Twenty-four years, my Lord.
Satan: Human years, yes?
Miss: Cece: Yes, human years. 353 years in your domain.
Satan: Impressive. I would have thought my regents were stronger than that. I won’t make that mistake again. And what of my domain?
Miss Cece: Usurped by Cain.
Satan: Cain? Of course, that backstabbing half-brother- I would kill him if I could.
Felix: Satan, do you still hold your Key?
Satan: Why?
Felix: Asmodeus and Lucifer are dead. Their Keys are in the hands of Fate.
Satan: Ah… so that is why you released me? Little Lucy’s plans backfired again? Unsurprising. Yes. I can hold my Key again, though I do not currently hold it. Lucky you, I plan to get it back. Then I plan to get my domain back. Then I plan to raise a new army--a new congregation. Then, I intend to finish what we started.
[Satan and El Coco have left the CaDCom transcription range.]
Alex: Well… he didn’t kill us outright… that’s sort of a win, right?
Felix: A delayed demise is still a demise, Alex.
Jenni: So, we’ll have to deal with him again. Fine. Better him than Fate.
Nick: Something he said, though, it got me thinking. He doesn’t have his Key yet, but he plans to get it back. How?
Felix: Ah… an interesting question Nick.
Jenni: You know, don’t you?
Felix: …
Nick: Silence. Gotcha. Can you at least confirm or deny that it could work to get back the other two Keys?
Felix: Hard to say… Worth keeping a pin in it, though, eh?
BARISTA: NICK LANGLEY
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY NOVEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-158
I have been tracking the Dover Lights for quite some time now. I can confirm that they were last seen in Alaska by the Long Island team, and I can confidently say they are moving eastward again. I know no one really believes that this could be Aliens. And I must say I've had my doubts too. Though, we are running out of explanations, both scientific and magical. Magic, of course, is just advanced universal principles put into practice. The lights seem to defy all known laws and logic, magic included. So, I once again ask you, could this not be an extraterrestrial entity?
If not aliens… it must be something "Otherworldly." Not necessarily from the Otherworld itself but along those same principles of creation. Some form of abiogenesis, if you will. And, yes, there is a slim chance that this is the work of an Elder. Elders, while typically still bound to the same universal principles that bind our understanding of magic, can seem like they bend these principles by applying knowledge beyond the grasp of mortals. Put simply, the longer you're alive, the more time you have to figure out how things work and how to break them.
The two major areas of concern with the Dover Lights are the lack of a corporeal form and its reality-altering powers. I know it might come as a surprise to most, but a corporeal form is actually pretty critical to existing in our universe. Even "ghosts" from Achegloom have a corporeal form, though it exists and operates outside of our senses. Why is a corporeal form so essential? Well, without one, your "soul" is unbound. And, yes, souls do exist unbound at the time of one's death for a few fractions of a second. They then either rebound to a new form in the Otherside or Flipside or leave the universe à la "passing on." There are some fringe exceptions, though they are extreme outliers. The point is, no form = no known entity. (Aliens?) The second issue is the Dover Light's power to seemingly alter reality, changing the form of other entities. How exactly this works, I don't know. It… shouldn't be possible. What it's doing is essentially changing an entity's corporeal form on the fly. And I just spent a few minutes explaining why corporeal forms are so important, so it goes without saying that something shouldn't be able to change that easily. Corporeal shifting could easily lead to temporal and spatial abnormalities that could lead to universal collapse. Worst case, of course.
While I can do a great deal of analyzing on my own, I lack the esoteric and/or mystical depth a problem like this poses. Normally I'd ask my sister for help, but she's dead and busy. So, any magically-inclined takers?
BARISTA: JULIA WANDSUN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID NOVEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-159
Well, I finally caught up with my parents, and I guess it was… underwhelming? Nothing worth this whole string of receipts anyway. But, still, I’m glad Daichi can sort of relate to having weird parents. Though, I think his mom is a bit weirder than mine, to be fair. For the most part, it just seemed like they wanted to catch up with me and make sure I was doing alright. I guess they also got word of what we did on Halloween and wanted to make sure I was safe and all that. While we might be pretty distant, it’s sweet that they still care, you know? The transcript is attached, but it’s nothing major. This’ll probably wrap this receipt up too.
Julia: Hi, mom. Hi, dad. Um, it’s good to see you. How have things been?
Mrs. Wandsun: What’s wrong dear, you look nervous.
Julia: Just, you know, worried something is wrong. You and dad don’t usually… uh keep in touch.
Mr. Wandsun: Be not afraid, Julia. You’re not in trouble.
Mrs. Wandsun: And you’re the one who doesn’t call.
Julia: I try to, but I never can seem to get a hold of you.
Mrs. Wandsun: Oh, well, I am sorry about that. We have been rather busy. And it seems like you have been busy too. Your father and I heard you helped free a very special someone from the Antechamber at the End.
Mr. Wandsun: So, you’re officially part of the Cafe and Diner, then?
Julia: I have been for a few years now. I joined after Miss. Masoch tried to-
Mr. Wandsun: Who?
Julia: Oh- Uhm, Le Leyon. After he tried to… well, I don’t know what he was trying to do. Kill me, I guess?
Mrs. Wandsun: So how do you like it there?
Julia: With the Cafe? It’s been great. They’re all very nice, and I feel like we’re really making a difference, you know?
Mr. Wandsun: Yes… difference. Things are certainly changing. Did you hear about what the Cafe did on the 31st?
Julia: Uhm… with Satan?
Mr. Wandsun: Yes.
Julia: Yeah… I heard bits and pieces, but I wasn’t actually there. Why?
Mrs. Wandsun: It’s just a very dangerous thing to let someone like that out. We wanted to make sure you were safe.
Mr. Wandsun: Now why did the Cafe do that exactly. Do you know?
Julia: Uh. Kind of. There were thirteen regents, and the Cafe had killed twelve of them, mostly inadvertently, and then I think Felix realized that if we killed the last one Satan would be trapped for a much longer time. Which I guess would’ve been bad because his Key, or whatever, was in the hands of the Cold.
Mrs. Wandsun: Inadvertently? Interesting… Did the Cafe consult with anyone before taking this action?
Julia: Mm… I mean, we took a vote?
Mr. Wandsun: Who all voted?
Julia: Some of the Cafe and Diner staff, some patrons, and I think a few friends- er uh, other organizations.
Mr. Wandsun: I see. So you put it to a vote to release Satan to get his Key back to him? Is that right?
Julia: Yeah, I think so. Why?
Mrs. Wandsun: We’re just worried about you. But it seems like you’re taking care of yourself.
BARISTA: TRAVIS NORRIS
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID NOVEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-160
Now ain’t that mighty strange. “Be not afraid.” Huh. Mighty funny choice of words, if’n ya’ asking me. Well, it got me thinking. Ya’ see me and Julia have gotten pretty close over the past few years. And of course, we talk about our parents from time to time. Mine hate me, and hers are distant, lots of room for bonding, I reckon. So we’ve talked about her parents quite a bit, and there’s been a lot of strangeness about them, their relationship to Julia, their relationship to Otherside-affairs, and having seen their transcript from last week, well it got me really thinking.
Now, I am what you might call an Elder-Authority of sorts for those who might not already know. Before slingin’ coffee, I was slingin’ secrets for the Astorians in Division November. We did a lot of research into Elders, what have you, so I’ve gotten pretty good at sniffin’ them out. See, a strange little quirk of Elders is that they tend to be detached from humanity in lots of small little ways. Like, for example, a demon who is pretending to be a human will go through the process of creating a suitable identity. If ya’ go snoopin’ you’ll find something, ya’ know documents or what-have-you. Enough to keep Astoria off your trial. Elders, though, they don’t think about those kinds of things. So, when searching for the “Wandsuns” in Washington, well, color me unsurprised that there ain’t a single record of them. Julia? Sure. She’s in the system. But where the heck are her parents?
Well… I reckon they might just be Nephilistic Elders, or uh, ya’ know Celestial-types. Angels. Now I could be wrong. Without a blood-sample, I wouldn’t know that for sure. And, maybe Mr. Wandsun just used a serendipitous turn of phrase. Though… say they are Angels. Funny timing and all, them wanting a chat with Julia, considering Theo just showed up too. Now… does Theo know something we don’t? Again, I ain’t saying anything one way or another. Just that the Wandsuns on paper sure doesn’t seem to exist.
BARISTA: THE ANGEL
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE NOVEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-161
Be not afraid.
Not that you had much to fear from me anyhow. I came here under… Well, false pretenses make it seem like I was trying to deceive you. I wasn’t. Though I also wasn’t sent to investigate your involvement in the release of Satan. No, that job was given to Adathan and Ariel. I suppose you would know them as the Wandsuns. I came here to warn you that there is tremendous discontent in the Courts, and the cause would seem to be your unique brand of coffee. Of course, the first strike against the Cafe and Diner can be attributed to Jericho’s foolish, though warranted in some eyes, destruction of the Akashic Records and First Bible. Then, of course, when it came to light how the Pocket Watch was used last time around, some of the Court took significant issue with that. Now, you are releasing Satan and keeping unspeakable entities in your basements.
Hm. Well. I suppose the Courts only really know about the Satan thing. You are lucky they didn’t actually send me. It seems as if your best-kept secret is just common knowledge around the Palm Beach location. Jericho, what are you doing? I know you like to play with fire and hope you don’t get burned, but you are now toeing the line between striking another match and throwing an entire gas can on it. You are dangerously close to becoming the next Indrid Cold. Is that what you want? To serve the Wicked? I can not, and will not, help you in this situation you’ve found yourself in. I wouldn’t even know where to start. You can’t destroy it, and if you could, it would cause bedlam in the Courts. You can’t dispose of it in the Black Tide. Too risky, and if it is found, there would be bedlam in the Courts. You ABSOLUTELY cannot drink from it. There would not only be bedlam in the Courts, but you would be at the mercy of the Otherman. I doubt you want that.
That… utter mess aside. Jackie and Julia, you are not in the clear either. It is not my place to say, but Julia’s ties that bind are all but destined to have her open the Gates to Hell. I realize you might not feel like you would, but this is Fate you are up against now, after all. And Fate is hard as hell to defy. Especially now that Satan is back in the picture. Not to mention doors are opening in more places than one. Debts are coming due, and your entire organization is riddled with Debts to Fate, Secret, Phantom, Wicked, and God. How you expect this to work out, I do not know. My best advice would be to stop rocking the damn boat before the Devil drags you, and everyone else, under.
Be well. Stay in the light.
-Theo
BARISTA: VICTORIA WARD
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE NOVEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-162
"Don't worry, demons can't die. He'll slowly re-form himself over a few months, passing through all the stages of demon growth. Larvae, slug monster, spooky little girl, teenaged boy, giant ball of tongues, social media CEO, and then finally demon."
So. Uh. Yeah. That was the Dover Demon. Not really sure what else to say about him. As you'll see from the transcript, he's a bit… odd. But, the good news is Edgar managed to trap him in the Phantom Lane for the time being. I guess I don't know what our exit strategy here is. Just… leave him in there? Forever? That doesn't seem practical. Then again, I don't know how the Phantom Lane "works." For the time being, though, I suppose this tab is paid for but not yet in full. We're probably in trouble if the Dover Demon escapes the Phantom Lane. I can't imagine he liked getting shoved into a pocket dimension. I know I wouldn't.
Dover: Hi.
Jackie: Ah! What the hell? Where'd you come from?
Dover: Today's the day you're supposed to catch me, right? That's what DDM12 said.
Jackie: DDM12…? Wait, you read our receipts?
Dover: You put them online. What else am I supposed to do?
Victoria: He has a point, boss.
Jackie: Was DDM12 Cafe or Diner?
Victoria: Uh… good question…
Dover: Diner. That's beside the point, though. I'm all caught up from D to DD. Though your team is killing me with how slow you're getting these out. I've been waiting to read the rest of Update 10 since September! I mean, sure spoiler alert, Julia goes missing. But why was Le Leyon after her? Rhetorical. I already know. But where is Julia? Aren't you two usually together? Are you dating yet? It sure seems that way-
Jackie: Enough! Okay. You are… "knowledgeable," to an extent.
Dover: Eh, "extent" is selling it a bit short. I already know what happens in all of the Archives. I just like to read them for all of your fun little perspectives. Though, I will say brevity is not a barista's best friend, is it? Sometimes you guys just go on and on, "oh the weather is cold today, I saw a bird, no not that Bird, just a bird, my toe is itchy, anyway I think I saw a glimpse of a cryptid, not sure though, I'll make 10 more receipts about it just in case."
Victoria: Rude. But fair. So wait, you already know we're trying to capture you, right?
Dover: Yeah. It was pretty clear. So wait, where's the Phantom Lane?
Jackie: He couldn't make it. Had to go back to his own cycle. So… you already know our plans… would you come back with us willingly?
Dover: Ahaha, and they all say you're the second least humorous 8. No. No, of course not. Why would I go with you? Ah, and I know that look in your eye. You're thinking, "great now we have to use force." Let me give you a little extra spoiler; if you try and touch me, I'll scramble you so bad you won't know Flipside from the Otherside.
Jackie: …So—what? You just came to mock us?
Dover: Yes. It's fun. But, hey, you're what… my 9th and 17th favorite CaD employees. So while I won't go with you, I'll let you ask me three questions.
Jackie: How generous.
Victoria: Am I 9th or 17th?
Jackie: Not now, Vic. Okay. First question, what's the deal with the lights? They don't have a corporeal body, but you do?
Dover: Pretty, aren't they? Yeah, the lights aren't "me." Just the universe being torn apart and reassembled. You just never noticed me because I'm little. I'm a small little guy. You see a bunch of flashy lights up above, and you aren't looking for the two-foot-tall Demon controlling them. That's your fault. Mmm… and I was hiding my blood from you. So. Haha.
Jackie: Okay... You also mentioned you'd "scramble" me. You have some kind of reality-shifting powers… How does that work?
Dover: Bad question. Even if I explained to you how my powers work, you wouldn't understand. Your little mortal brain couldn't handle it.
Victoria: So you're an Elder, then?
Dover: Sorry, you're right. Our little mortal brains. I'm mortal, just like you dummies. What I meant to say was your little human brains couldn't handle it.
Jackie: Fine. What do you want then?
Dover: Hey! I said three questions, No. 3. Weren't you keeping track?
Victoria: Crap, sorry, boss.
Jackie: No. It's fine. I don't know if I trust anything this twerp says anyway.
Dover: Hey! Don't call me a twerp. You wouldn't call other high demons twerps.
Jackie: Oh, so you're a "high demon." Okay, buddy. What's your blood lineage, then?
Dover: Pump the brakes, Captain Eugenics. Blood lineage?
Victoria: That… is how high demons work, though.
Dover: Still rude to ask. Besides, I don't have to answer any more questions. Plus, it'd probably just confuse you further anyway.
Jackie: Yeah. You're probably right uh… what is your name?
Dover: Dover's fine. You can't pronounce my other name.
Jackie: Great, well, thank you, Dover. And you're right; we are just some dumb humans. So I guess we'll just be on our separate ways now?
Dover: Until next time!
Jackie: NOW PHANTOM!
Dover: Wha-
Edgar: DAREYOUVENTUREPASTYOURMORTALCOILANDLEAVETHISEARTHLYPLANE? YOUMIGHTJUSTFINDYOURSELFLOSTUPONTHEPHANTOMLANE-
[Edgar Lane and Dover Demon have left the CaDCom Transcription Range]
Victoria: Well… surprised that worked.
Jackie: Yeah, me too. At least Ed can spit out that rhyme pretty fast.
Victoria: So... he's kind of scary, right?
Jackie: Oh yeah. He knows more than he should, and he has reality-altering powers.
Victoria: Love that for us. I can now see why Phantom wanted him out of the picture.
Jackie: Yeah, let's just hope he stays out of it.
BARISTA: NANCY LANGLEY
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-163
My goodness. It occurred to me the other day that we talk a lot about the Cold, but I don’t believe we’ve given a formal introduction to all four of them yet. There have been many receipts and run-ins with the Wicked, of course, and just last month, we had a surprise visit from the Phantom. And it goes without saying we have often crossed paths with Fate itself as well. But we often overlook Secret, the silent member of the group. So I thought it might be good to divulge a bit of the Secret’s mystique to help illuminate the threat we are up against.
Secret, the pale horse of the group, likes to keep to their name. A secret. Though we have actually had numerous encounters with the corporeal form of Secret, he is probably better known as Shaka of Zulu. Perhaps it comes as a surprise, perhaps not, but Shaka is not entirely human. Though he is also not wholly inhuman either. He is undoubtedly a man of mystery and secrets, the most damning of which is held under lock and key under the “Code of Zilence.” A blood oath of sorts was made between the Zulu cultists and Shaka. If you ask me, it is a rather gruesome affair where the devotees have their lips literally sewn shut for months at a time. A fun way to figure out how long a person has been in the Zulu cult is based on whether or not they can talk, as it is hard to tell otherwise with their masks on. Of course, as our own Felix can attest to, the thread eventually comes undone once Shaka is satisfied his secrets are safe behind your lips. I’ve heard the price for sharing a sacred “zecret” of the Zulus is a fate worse than death, and I am inclined to believe it.
So how are we to know anything about the enigmatic Secret if the only people who do know anything are sworn to utter silence? Well, it’s a problem, alright. Not one that is easily solved. Not yet anyway. Of course, Felix knows quite a bit about Secret and their plans and involvement with the Cold. But he can’t say a word about it. He can’t even hint at the truth. However, I have a feeling that whatever it is that Secret is planning, it might not be so bad. Comparatively, of course. He is still one of the four signs of the Apocalypse. But as Phantom said, the Cold isn’t necessarily chasing the same goals. While the Wicked tries to set the world on fire and Fate plans to see it so… strange as he may be, Shaka has been on our side more often than not.
BARISTA: JOY LIVINGSTONE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-164
I saw Nancy’s report yesterday and something, like, sorta caught my eye with it, you know? She said: “There have been many receipts and run-ins with the Wicked, of course…” and, like yeah, it’s true but having seen what’s currently on the Archives, there’s actually not that much about Wicked on there. Or at least nothing as in-depth as what Nancy put out for Secret. So I figured it would be nice for Palm Beach to write up a little description of the Wicked and its mortal counterparts. And seeing as this’ll be in the AND channel, too, I think I’ll just use the mostly-real names of the Wicked’s counterparts. So, like what exactly IS the Wicked’s deal?
Well, Nancy called Secret the pale horse, so I guess that’d make Wicked the red horse… though yellow would probably be more fitting. The Wicked also has gone by a few names, which is unusual for the Cold, but it has also been called the Yellow Flame, the Eternal, the Blight, the Unspoken, King in Yellow Flames, the Matchstick, the Wicked One, and now we just sort of go with Wicked. Now, as for why Wicked has so many more names than the other three is because of its former cult. While Fate, Phantom, and Secret tend to work more in the shadows, Wicked likes to take more direct action. Wicked likes to set fires. Um, case in point, Wicked tried to enter the corporeal plane directly. The end goal of the Wicked’s now-defunct cult was to “empty a vessel” for its Flame to burn through. So who was going to be that empty vessel? Well.. it was supposed to be “Joy Livingstone.” Born and raised in the cult to fulfill that twisted fate. But on the eve the ritual was supposed to take place, an agent of the IRIS Company came in and stopped it… although a few minutes too late. Every member of the cult who was present had already self-immolated. But Joy was saved. And one other member of the cult survived, as he was chosen to rekindle the Flame once the ritual had concluded. So now there was the vessel, the last member of the cult, and the IRIS agent trapped in a smoldering temple. But, Wicked gave them a choice, accept the Flame and the flames will yield… or perish in the flames. The three took the Wicked’s offer creating a three-way split for the Wicked’s envoy: Joy Livingstone, Julius Mendoza, and Jericho Myerscough.
And that’s just my personal connection to the Wicked. Not even getting into the Wicked’s interactions with the former 8 and how they burned down the original Cafe. And the time the Wicked tried to snuff out Julia using another proxy of theirs, Le Leyon. Which, I guess I should probably touch on that real quick. Wicked has been less than amused with the Tricads performance as its corporeal forms. I spend hours meditating against the Wicked whispers, Julius has never once used the Wicked’s powers effectively keeping it out, and Jericho used to drink to keep it at bay but now uses the Mantle for protection. So Wicked has attempted to create other corporeal vessels because, at the end of the day, a fire will spread until it is extinguished.
BARISTA: JERICHO MYERSCOUGH
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-165
Joy did a good job covering the main points of the Wicked. Not much more I could add that would matter, other than I’ve read the Wicked’s literature, and I thought it was pretty trite, choice? Speaking of the Wicked’s literature… the Blight. No. 6 only briefly mentioned the Wicked’s greatest strength, the Blight, so I figured I could fill in the gaps a bit, yeah? If there was a proper counter to the Mantle of Eight, it’d be the damn Blight. Heaven and Hell, even 8 was nearly consumed by it more than once. It’s ruthless, restless, and remorseless.
I suppose it’s worth mentioning that I myself am inflicted by the Blight, you know, in case it wasn’t obvious. Julius and Joy are still clear as far as I know. Probably a benefit of them growing up around the Wicked’s ideologies is that they knew well enough to steer clear of them. To become Blighted, well, it’s actually quite easy. You just have to read the Wicked’s words. For the sake of everyone reading this, I won’t name the work in question, nor where you can find it, nor what is contained within it. I will say that there is a reason the Wicked is called the Yellow Flame. Point is, once you’ve read it, any of it, you’ve marked yourself for madness in the best case—death in the worst.
However, the more you can stomach the bloody thing, the more power you are granted. What power specifically? Rule-breaking power. Rules that break the fundamental laws of the universe. 8 got far enough to let him peer into the Ouroboros, giving him glimpses of the Otherside while in the Flipside. I only got far enough to prevent myself from slipping further into madness. Le Leyon evidently got far enough to start bending reality with his “funk.” And that brings me to my main concern, choice?
Dover.
Well. Dover, and another issue that the Palm Beach location has been looking into. Another twit who got a little too cocky and read a little more than they should have. Can’t say more here… especially with the Indigo brats breathing down our necks more than ever now. No offense to the kids, of course. But you lot are brats. Anyway, the only way I can see our issue resolving itself is if we get Dover’s help. But Dover’s not here at the moment. Not sure if the bloke is still trapped in the Phantom Lane or if he convinced Ed to let him screw with his cycle. But, we have Victoria looking into it, and hopefully, Dan can check the House for us.
BARISTA: JULIUS MENDOZA
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-166
Dover.
Jericho already mentioned that he is quite possibly our only hope at resolving our current… “issue.” Though Jericho has also been reluctant to reveal what exactly we are dealing with. He claims it is out of fear of the Indigos finding out. While that could be the case, I think something else is weighing on his mind. Obviously, I had my suspicions that something had piqued his interests back in October. Now we’ve had our… “guest” under our Cafe for over a month, and I worry Jericho is tempted to utilize its unique properties.
I’ve already decided this report will be “Diner Diner.” As such, it should remain hidden until we decide as a group to reveal this, but we are currently in possession of the Fountain of Youth. A living, though inanimate object, the Fountain has the terrifying power of bestowing immortality to those who drink from it. In essence, it can create Elders. Of course, such processes are highly corruptive, and those who drink from the Fountain are forever changed. If I had to guess, the Fountain contains a liquid similar to what the Immortal Ape, Zehurozzm, drank. If how he turned out is anything to go by, no one should be drinking from this Fountain. Especially not the current majority holder of the power of Eight.
However, you all know how Jericho is. One whiff of forbidden or esoteric magic, and he wants to dive in headfirst. Also, while the Fountain is “inanimate,” it is still quite the beast to contain. When left alone, it comes to life, in a sense. In its animated form, it is nigh-unstoppable and extremely deadly. Again, I can only speculate, but I assume blood or souls in some capacity fuel the Fountain, explaining its extreme unquenchable bloodlust. So we need to remove the Fountain before either Jericho’s temptations grow too strong, or we slip up, and it gets out. None of us are quite sure how it was imprisoned under the bowling alley before, and it is too risky to assume it would be fine if we returned it. Not to mention, Robert the Doll knows precisely where it was and would be certain to try and dig it back up again.
So, we need to do what the Cafe and Diner does best. Return the Fountain to its home. The problem is the Fountain originates from the eighth plane of the Otherside, which we do not have access to. However, Joy has theorized that Victoria could channel Dover’s dimensional-shifting powers to give us enough access to the Eighth Plane to return the Fountain. So our priority right now is to find Dover, though that is easier said than done. The Phantom Lane is like a hallway with endless doors, each door leading to another cycle. The best-case scenario is that he is either still in the Phantom Lane itself or ended up in the “Dive” cycle with Edgar Lane. Hopefully, we can find him, and he is willing to help. I am sure he is still checking the Archives wherever he ended up.
BARISTA: SHAKA OF ZULU
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-167
I come to send my deepest apologies that Dingane will be tied up today and tomorrow and cannot properly accomplish their duties for the Cafe and Diner. It is unfortunate, but our hands are tied in this matter. You might think this is the wrong place, but I assure you it is the correct place in many ways. Everything and everyone is almost precisely where they need to be. It has been a terribly slow process ensuring everything was as it should be, but is that not the magic of our work? We take the shattered pieces and fit them back together one by one until the vase is the exact same as it once was. And while some pieces might be unfamiliar, I assure you the vase is one and the same. For even if a piece or two is borrowed from a broken mess elsewhere, we have gone to great lengths to match each and every atom.
Is it tiring work? Naturally. Though we are getting closer, each step forward cuts the journey in half. I suppose that is the problem then. Even when we are this close to our destination, we remain an infinite number of steps away. Some days I must admit, I feel like running to the end. What good would that do, though? It would most likely just end up having things be rewound again. And again. And again. No. I am tired of this game, and I am tired of stalemates. All moves made must now be made with careful consideration.
Speaking of moves, there is one last thing I figured I’d mention. While we don’t like to point fingers, I have been keeping track. There are four locations, not three. And the location you’ve chosen wasn’t chosen by chance, was it? A spot perfectly aligned to the eighth plane of the Otherside. Now I can imagine why you might have an interest in having a Cafe and Diner set up there, but again, we aren’t pointing fingers. While I would blame Fate, this has your work written all over it. By my count, there are three of you. Perhaps four? Maybe a fifth would suit your agenda nicely. I’ll leave staffing to your discretion. Though I find it flattering, I still have employee access.
In any case, we will conclude our business with Dingane as soon as possible so they can get back to their coffee-related work. Oh, and Merry Christmas.
BARISTA: VICTORIA WARD
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-168
“I’m trying very hard not to connect with people right now.”
I don’t know if I’ve ever really talked about my powers at length before. I’m not even sure if everyone knows about them. I mean, I know Jackie and Dan know about them. And back in the old Cafe, Miranda and Brent knew about them too. Other than that, I think most of you just have a vague understanding that I have some kind of power and nothing much more than that. Part of it is that Jackie thought it might be best to keep it more Cafe than Diner. The other part is I’ve never been all that comfortable with my powers. Both literally and in a more existential sense. I didn’t really know where they came from or how they worked, but then all of a sudden, a door is opened, and the Phantom of all entities is telling me more about myself than I’ve figured out in 24 years. And I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to know more.
My powers are… well… I’m not sure how to describe them. I guess “Dimensional Energy Manipulation?” I can change, charge, redirect, and dampen certain dimensional energy frequencies. I’m sure the Long Island team remembers the Halloween from hell where Al Crow used me to bring the House back to the Flipside. That is probably the best example I have of what my powers can do. The House, as an entity, is composed of a very unique dimensional energy. As we’ve come to learn, it is most likely Phantom’s energy. Anyway, Crow used me as a lightning rod to bring the House back to the Flipside. And for the Non-Long Islanders, uh, I probably can’t give an exact example of what my powers can do. Obviously, the Managers know. Though Julia knows in detail from when we handled the “Espresso Affairs” under the Muldra Cafe. Nick is the one who set that all up. Julius, Jericho, and Joy are the ones who have been helping me channel my powers, and it’s why I’m down here in Florida as opposed to the Long Island Location with the rest of my old team.
Speaking of the old team, though, tomorrow on Wednesday, Dan will call back the House, and Mikey will see if he can record any specific data about it. If the House is part of this “Phantom” frequency, it would be good to know what exactly that is. We might also see if my powers still work on the House or not. I… don’t really want to go through the whole ritual thing that Crow did to me again, so it might not work, but we’ll see! Oh, and also we have to check the House for Dover. I know Jericho wants his help, but I also kind of want to talk to him. His powers might be like mine.
BARISTA: JACKIE LANG
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-169
Well… unfortunately, we’ve come up pretty empty-handed as far as the search for Julia’s parents goes. We’ve figured out quite a bit about her adoptive parents, though they haven’t spoken to either of us since November. We even took a trip back to Evergreen and their house, Julia’s childhood home, just wasn’t there. It’s like it vanished into thin air.
We even asked around the other two branches, and no one had any idea. Well, maybe Felix knows something, but he might not be able to say if he did. Still, I’ve gotten pretty good at telling what he does and doesn’t know by the wrinkles in his face. When he does know something, his lips purse, and his right eye slightly scrunches.
And the TriCaD didn’t seem to know anything either. Which is kind of surprising because Rico is a bit of know-it-all. Plus, he’s spent the most time around Julia’s adoptive parents’ type. Well, him and Daichi. We even tried giving Katherine a few drops of Julia’s blood to see if she could, you know, see the answer. Unfortunately, it was another dead-end. Out of respect for Julia’s privacy, I won’t mention any of the specifics about it… but basically, as far back as things go, it’s always been the Wandsuns.
Maybe we’re looking too much into it. Then again… It’s very unusual that Julia would be adopted by the Wandsuns. Not to mention her own extraordinariness. In any case, we’re out of options. At least I’m out of ways I can help. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop helping… I’m just out of resources and ideas. But this tab will stay open as long as Julia needs it to stay open. We care about her. I care about her.
BARISTA: JULIA WANDSUN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-170
It’s pointless. It feels like I’ve been chasing a dream. Every time I think I can reach it, it’s miles away. Now it’s time to wake up. Besides, even if I did find my biological parents, it wouldn’t change who I am. It doesn’t change who raised me. And while my relationship with the Wandsuns is… Strained… They are still my parents. I just hope they feel the same way about me. I don’t even know if my biological parents are still around, and maybe that’s why I was adopted. I feel like I’ve been looking for a connection, but I’m bound to find a gravestone. I don’t know. And if not a connection, maybe some answers. I mean, sure, something is different about me. We’ve all known that for a while now. And while I would like to know why I’m so different, maybe there isn’t a good answer? Or maybe it’s an answer I don’t want to know. I’ve been serving coffee long enough to know that you tend to get burned when it’s too hot. And, like I said, it wouldn’t change who I am. Nothing will.
So, I guess this tab is closed. Sorry for wasting everyone’s time.
BARISTA: THE SERPENT, DAICHI
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-171
Way to twist my tail on this one. Due to the more serious nature of this subject, I think I will try and slow down while typing for once, though no prpmises. I've been worried that this moment has been coming since November. I guess I could start there. I know your parents, the Wandsuns, and I know them well. I also knew your biological parents before they both kicked it.
I think it's no secret I've spent quite the time hanging around Angels. Sure, some Angels are pretty callous, but there are some pleasant ones too. Adathan and Ariel are somewhere in-between. They aren't quite as human as Theo, but they aren't as inhuman as Abaddon. So whatever distance you're feeling, I'm sure it's them, not you. And they really can't help it. Immortality is a real drain on your humanity, and Angels were never human, to begin with. It takes a real dedicated effort to keep that spark going. Though they might be distant, they do still care about you, kid. They raised you, and they've done everything they could to keep you safe. From what? Or maybe I should say, from who? Well, I'm sure you've guessed by now… your biological parents.
I'll leave whether or not you want to disclose their identities up to you, but I'll still say a bit about them here. I guess I'll start with your mother. Ah, your mother. I always liked your mother. She was full of life, passion, and light. You look a lot like her, actually. Same blonde hair, same bright blue eyes, same dazzling smile. She was always trying to keep everyone together, even if it was a Sisyphean task. Of course, she wasn't without her flaws. She had a nasty habit of letting her passions consume her. Should something happen to something or someone, she loved she would light the world ablaze to set things right. She did set the world ablaze once or twice. Of course, when you spend all your time playing with fire, you'll eventually get burned.
Which is interesting because it wasn't her fire that killed her. It was your father's. Oh, your father. A visionary, a romantic, an idealist, a poet, a dreamer. You got his smirk, even if he didn’t know it. It's really no wonder why your mom fell for him time and time again. He matched your mother's passion perfectly, always facing down the universe with soft-spoken defiance. But where your mother's passions tended to consume her, your father's passions tended to consume those around him. Probably why your mother never told him about you and put you up with the Wandsuns. Getting close to him was practically signing your own death warrant. He would kick the hornet's nest just to see how they buzzed. And of course, when death stared him down, your mother ended up taking the bullet for him. Tragic really, and entirely unexpected. Obviously, it wasn't what your father wanted, but it did prove a dangerous point… that Fate can be overcome.
BARISTA: JULIA MORNINGSTAR
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE DECEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-172
So… Now I know. And, it’s not what I expected, but it feels right. When I look at my reflection, I can see them so clearly. While I don’t know the specifics, it also explains my powers or why I can have them. And… I guess I did get to meet both of my biological parents too. Well, I got to watch one of them die, at least. Which…
I don’t know. I don’t know how to process this. Not yet.
And my dad. He was here. I could’ve reached out and touched him. He was right here just a few months ago. If I had known sooner, I would have burned each moment I spent with him into my memory, heart, and soul… And now… Now he’s gone.
Why?
Why didn’t she tell him about me? Why didn’t she tell me about herself? She was right there. She knew who I was. Why didn’t she say anything? Why did she let herself die with this secret? WHY?
Do you think… if he knew, he would’ve stayed? Or has too much time passed now, and whatever connection we might have had was lost years ago in an alternate cycle.
Just... Why?
I miss you, both of you. Even if I didn’t get to spend much time with either of you. I would have if I could have. But… I’m sure I’ll see you both again someday or some cycle far away, dad and Lucy.
BARISTA: FELIX BLACKWOOD
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-173
My, my, my. What a truly unexpected turn of events. And I say that with sincerity. While I am often more aware of the bigger picture than most others, I had no idea about Julia. Of course, it’s just like Lucy to keep a secret so big. Though, I am surprised she kept it a secret from the original owner as well, eh? Looking at the timeline… well, how ‘bout that? Julia was born September 6th, 1994, and the original owner and Lucy had their big ‘ol fallout in December of ‘93. I don’t like to speculate about the affairs of my passed friends, but it all but seems obvious, no? Lucy found out she was pregnant and cut things off with the original owner. As for why… I am at a loss. We also know Lucy was making deals with the Olympians around then, so I can only assume she knew something we didn’t and still don’t.
Unfortunately, she took all her secrets with her to the grave, and we still lack any practical means of reviving her. Of course, having a direct descendant of hers opens up new possibilities. Though, we still need time to brew that coffee, eh? Do I know how to bring Lucifer back right now? Yes. Will I? No. I am unwilling to sacrifice one of our own to bring back Lucifer. Even the original owner would be against the notion of sacrificing his own daughter to bring back his amour. However, there is another matter for which I am quite… “curious.” It might be worth removing that pin now, eh? If you catch my drift.
Though I must stress, I am in no rush. When Julia is ready for such talks, that is when we can remove that pin fully. While it is, for lack of a better word, amazing, that we have a direct descendant of Lucifer among our staff, she is still the daughter of my two best friends. Julia, I know I am no substitute for the original owner or Lucy, but know that I am here for you. I am unsure what comforts I can offer, but if you wish to learn more about your parents, surely there is no better person to ask. And while I am typically our most tight-lipped member, let me say this very clearly for all staff, both official and… “unofficial,” I will protect Julia with my life. I see the same writing on the wall that you do, but I will not humor that line of thinking. Need I remind everyone, Julia is a manager, and more than that, she is a CaD employee.
I hope I made myself clear, eh, “boss?”
BARISTA: SHAKA OF ZULU
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID JANUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-174
Once again, my sincerest apologies, Cafe and Diner. I did not intend to steal two of your employees for my little Zulu family, but… are we not all one big family now? Are things not in motion that are greater than silly little titles? Zulu, CaD, Indigos, Sons, Daggers, TLC, what difference does it make if we are all working towards a similar goal? Ah. But is it not interesting how much we share with what we fear? The Cold has its own motives, and so do we. It seems to me that the Cafe and Diner wish to put an end to ALL of the consortium calling themselves the Cold. But it wouldn’t behoove me to work against Secret, would it? No. I think it is no secret that I am only interested in breaking the bonds of Fate. For once Fate is out of the equation, we can resume our work.
Unfortunately, this means once the debts are paid, and our common enemies are put to rest, well, I cannot guarantee these silly little titles won’t mean something after all. I know for a fact the Daggers will want to move on. The Sons? Well, I fear they might stay true to their name once given a chance. And it hurts me, it does, to tear apart a family like yours, but the Zulu Family has their own plans, and Alex and Amber are center stage. So, while I can hope that our goals can align in this moment and the next, I doubt they will. Then again, Secret did always have a soft spot for coffee, and perhaps you could grow a soft spot for secrets.
Mm, speaking of coffee and, more importantly, what the Cafe has been brewing lately, Daiquiris? How refreshing. I love a good Daiquiri though I have never had the pleasure to try one myself. Very few have. It would be… well, what? 15 since they were on the menu? That’s a long time. I’ve only been around for 7 or so myself. I am sure you understand the risk you are taking in trying to serve them. Tender love and care can only push things so far in your favor, but I fear Daiquiris lie outside of even our control. Though I can understand why Jericho might want to put the Fountain out of my reach as soon as possible. And if I understand things correctly, you intend to use the Dover Demon to break the seal to the eighth plane. Risky business, Cafe and Diner… we are running out of seals to keep, well, sealed. Three down, three to go… not looking good. But I will save that for my other clandestine group project. Always busy, busy, busy. No rest for the Wicked… well, Secret, actually.
BARISTA: DOVER DA DEMON
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-175
You might have already seen, but I, DOVER DA DEMON, will be saving your butts royally. No need to thank me, though. I guess, consider us even for the messes I made. Though… I wouldn’t mind getting an actual number if you catch my drift. “NONCAD05” just isn’t very snazzy. Doesn’t make me feel like I’m a part of the team, you know? Eh, I’ll take it up with management later. I guess right now, we need to focus on what to serve the Fountain of Youth without pissing off everyone else in the world.
And you know what helps me think? A nice minty teeth cleaning and a cold glass of Orange Juice. Really get the brain pumping when your tastebuds want to escape your body. And, lucky yous guys, my sister has the best OJ this side of Ottawa. Mrs. Tudor! Or maybe she’s single. I don’t know. Miss. Tudor? I’m not scared of her, but I guess I grew up with her.
.tfird ym hctac uoy fi ,yaw eno naht erom ni ydoolb s’ehS Obviously. We’re related. And last I heard, she’s still hanging out in the lush orange fields of Ottawa, right in the big ‘ol city. Though with all the turmoil there lately, she might’ve moved. I don’t know. We don’t keep in touch. However, I think she might really know what the Fountain would like. So that’s where we’re going. Yes! WE! I don’t wanna go alone. That’s not very fun. That’s not very CaD-like. Dare I say it? I would get lonely!
So. I wanna take my 1st favorite CaD employee, Zach, with me. Other than Zach, I don’t care who tags along. Just give me a quick headcount, and I’ll get us a nice comfy first-class flight to the land of OJ set up. In the meantime, I’ve got some other ideas I wanna test out, so if you need me, I’ll be in Florida. Don’t worry. I won’t mess with the Fountain too much. Just the right amount.
BARISTA: JOY LIVINGSTONE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-176
Well, it would seem that the Fountain has started… speaking. I don't know if she is only talking to me, but I assume she's speaking to everyone. Mind you, when I say "speaking," I mean in a psychonautic one-way connection. To put it more simply, she is placing thoughts into my head. Probably everyone else's too. Actually… that might be why No. 422 left and wanted to keep No. 224 out of the Cafe for a while. I'm sure he would have been the first to pick up on these messages. Or not. He might have just wanted a vacation. We never can tell what he's thinking.
However, I believe it's important to document these thoughts the best I can. Both because they might help us deal with the Fountain but also because it is inherently interesting. the Fountain is our only Daiquiri drinker, and she might be our last, so I want to take this opportunity while I can. I, of course, invite the rest of Palm Beach to participate, but it's not mandatory.
Please keep in mind these aren't all of them, and they might not be 100% accurate to what the Fountain is trying to convey. Also, the times are just approximations. Peace, love, and joy! <3
February 1st 2022
3:22 A.M. - “He had a wall full of masks so he could wear a different one every day.”
5:09 A.M. - “They filled the bunker with sweet fruit to tempt them inside.”
7:22 A.M. - “Say goodbye my love, say goodbye.”
9:09 A.M. - “You don’t work in a Cafe, you work in a morgue.”
February 2nd 2022
3:05 A.M. - “You can never have too many sips from a deep well.”
5:20 A.M. - “At that moment I was the most fearsome creature in the entire swamp.”
7:05 A.M. - “We’re one big happy family, aren’t we?”
9:18 A.M. - “I think I hear a baby crying.”
3:14 P.M. - “I will not open the door.”
5:05 P.M. - “The room had green wallpaper with yellow flowers all over it.”
February 3rd 2022
3:14 A.M. - “Alone. Alone. Alone.”
4:05 A.M. - “Even if you ran, he’d still be with you.”
4:14 A.M. - “I think they were dandelions.”
5:09 A.M. - “Maybe it’s safe?”
6:01 A.M. - “Of course it’s safe. No one who has taken a sip has ever died.”
6:13 A.M. - “No one has to die ever again.”
About once every hour after, since - “Just one sip.” (This has also been sorta vocalized? It’s hard to understand what her screeches and cries are, if anything)
BARISTA: ZACH BLACK
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-177
The Vile City is… as you would expect. The name certainly matches up. Luckily, we were in the more “affluent” part of the city known as the Báthory Block. The Demons who live here mainly consist of consorts and high-ranking or influential Blooded Demon-types. It’s still a reasonably gruesome place with an air of certain danger, but better than the Huntsman’s Quarters or the Brimstone Slums. At least, according to Ned and Dover anyway.
Thankfully, we were able to meet up with Mrs. Tudor, or as she is certainly better known in Baltimore, “Bloody Mary.” Mary runs some sort of parlor of debauchery in the Block, from what I could tell. A regular meeting place for various Eisheth Demons and socialite consorts. As it turns out, about a third of the Eisheth brood are relatively loyal to Satan. Another third owed their loyalty to Lucifer and the last third to Asmodeus. However, with Lucifer and Asmodeus dead, and Satan having recently returned, dozens of Eisheths have been flocking to the Hauntaurskald. Though, according to Dover, it’s not uncommon for Eisheths to follow power, especially that of the Princes.
Here’s the transcript of our conversation with Mary. I can’t say it’s terribly helpful for our current predicament, and I can tell Dover was disappointed too. I think Dover expected Mary to have the solution on hand and she didn’t… because of Dover. So we’ll need to look elsewhere.
Bloody Mary: Ew. Who let you in?
Dover: You wound me, sister! …And also your security is lacking. You know there’s still Sevenfold’s running around, right?
Bloody Mary: In Báthory? I doubt it. Now, have you come to apologize or socialize?
Dover: …Socialize?
Bloody Mary: What do you want from me?
Dover: Why do you always assume- Well, actually, yeah. We could really use your mirror. Just borrow it, really.
Bloody Mary: What for?
Dover: [CaDCom unable to transcribe]
Bloody Mary: What?
Dover: Ugh… to put something back in Eden.
Bloody Mary: Eden!? Absolutely not. You can just dump these humans in Pandemonium. You know, “overkill” isn’t always the best type of kill, dear.
Dover: No! I don’t need to get rid of these guys. There’s… an…Elder who needs to be put back into Eden.
Bloody Mary: Let me guess. You broke something. Again.
Dover: No! This time it isn’t even my fault! Listen. This Elder is powerful and dangerous. It belongs in Eden and your mirror-
Bloody Mary: Can’t do that since you broke it.
Dover: -Ah…damn. Damn. Damn. Damn! Okay. But we could fix it…?
Bloody Mary: We? Funny way of saying YOU. If you want to, by all means. If you can find it.
Dover: Find it?
Bloody Mary: Why would you expect me to keep a shattered mirror?
Dover: You’re bloody freaking Mary! That’s your whole thing!
Bloody Mary: You broke it!
Dover: You will never let that go, huh?
Bloody Mary: Out. Leave. Now. Except for the Elderling.
Zach: Huh?
Ned: She means Katherine.
Katherine: Um… me?
Bloody Mary: Yes. I want to have a word with you.
Ned: I’m not leaving her alone with you.
Bloody Mary: Fine. The witch can stay too. But remove the puny orange trash from my sight.
Dover: Jeez… Come on, bestie, let’s get out of here. I think I know where the mirror ended up.
I’m not sure what Mary spoke about with Ned and Katherine. I don’t think Ned knows how to turn on the transcription feature and it probably slipped Katherine’s mind. I’m sure they’ll write up a new receipt for Mary if it’s something important. Until then, this tab is tabled as I don’t think Mary wants to see or hear from Dover again any time soon. At least Dover believes he knows where this “mirror” is, but we’ll have to wait three days to test out his theory.
BARISTA: RACHEL ROSETHORN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-178
Down, down in Salem town, let’s have a looksee,
Big Man Bart was choppin’ down a birch-tree.
One chop, two chops, chop, chop, three,
Down, down in Salem town, came that ‘ol birch-tree.
Bloodgoode, Bloodgoode, swooning by the sea.
Watching Bart choppin’ down that ‘ol birch-tree,
Swept off her feet and headed for matrimony,
Bloodgoode, Bloodgoode, then became Mrs. Langley.
First came Solomon slick and smart,
Then came Antionette pure of heart.
Next was Abner eyes glued to the stars,
And then little Lazarus always behind bars.
Then Parthenia was quiet and curious,
And her sister Ursula was oh so injurious.
Odd Theodosia left for her grand quest,
And Jethro couldn’t help but jape and jest.
Enoch and Eddard were both born twins,
One was holy, the other was full of sins.
Next, was Malachi who saw things he shouldn’t of,
And his sister Damaris never could find true love.
Last came baby Magdalena,
Graceful as a ballerina.
BARISTA: BELPHEGOR OUROBOROS
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-179
"Oh yeah, the Concord. I don't have time to get into the nitty-gritty of it all here…" And they say I'M lazy. Well, lucky for you, I have the time to get into it. I was even there when the papers were signed. So I can REALLY get into it. So, why not? Plus, Shaka wants us all to make a receipt so we'll be registered into the CaDCom system officially. Apparently, our branch name won't even show up until all five of us make a receipt. So I guess I can talk about the West Virginia Concord for a bit. If, you know, anyone finds that to be interesting.
Dan said it was an agreement between the "Master of the House" and Eisheth, right? Well, I guess that's kind of true. That's not really what the Concord is. The Concord is an agreement between the Hamilton's and Eisheth. It basically reiterates our original agreements and requires the Indigo Government to stay out of it. The agreement between the Master of the House and Eisheth is a lot older than the Concord. I'd know, I signed it. It's my house, technically. Or it was my house. I don't know. I guess it could still be mine if I really put in the effort to take it back. But, it's a lot less work for me to just let the Hamiltons or whoever keep it in check. Plus, ever since Phantom hijacked the thing, I can't even call it back to the Ouroboros, so what's the point? I don't need a vacation home in Phantom's lane.
So, I guess the more interesting question would be, how did the House come about in the first place? Well, basically, we all wanted out of the Ouroboros. Mind you, this was a long, LONG time ago. Back before we could leave the Ouroboros. And being trapped in there kind of sucks after a while. So, Eisheth came up to me and said, "Hey, I want out, you want out, and I know how we can do it." Turns out her "how we can do it" involved asking a bunch of Elders for help. Fate, Phantom, and the Pale, specifically. So that fun crew got together and helped us put together the House allowing us to leave the Ouroboros. Fate supplied the road that House would lie along, Phantom provided the doors and windows, the Pale provided the frame, Eisheth added the magic, and I added some finishing touches.
Eisheth had no interest in actually owning the House, so she gave it to me. In exchange, she and any of her descendants were free to walk along the road laid by Fate to cross between boundary lines. Fate wanted nothing in return for providing the road as it was, and still is, part of Fate's plans, I guess. All Phantom wanted in return was for the House to open new doors elsewhere. Basically, Phantom wanted to have the House travel around a bunch. I didn't hold up that end of the bargain and just kind of let the House sit in the Ouroboros for eons. Whoops. Which led Phantom to eventually repossess the House, and now it pops in and out of Cycles constantly, opening doors as it goes. I think it shows up on Wednesdays, so there's always one last day to use it before a new Sphere starts. Part of Fate's plans, no doubt. And the Pale wanted the same thing as Eisheth, a free ride for her and her kids. Of course, the Pale got tossed into the Underside like I dunno, thirteen Spheres ago? But her kids can still use the road. And I guess if she ever got out of the Underside, she could use it too. That'd be scary, haha. It'd suck for the Flipside to go back under her control. It would probably be a mess I'd have to clean up.
Anyway, yeah, that's pretty much it. It was a House made by myself, Eisheth, Fate, Phantom, and the Pale to leave the Ouroboros. It worked and still works, though it's basically in Phantom's control now. The Concord was an agreement made by the Hamiltons, the Indigos, and Eisheth to basically uphold the original agreements now that I don't use the House anymore. I wonder if Phantom was involved with the Concord at all? Eh, not that it matters that much. Fate and Phantom will do whatever they want with the House, and there's not much that the Hamiltons, Indigos, or Eisheth could really do about it. Fate could just cut off the road at any time, and Phantom could shut the doors once and for all. I don't think they will, though. It seems like the House is sort of integral to their plans.
BARISTA: JOHN DOE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-180
It's about time we spoke about time. These days most of the Cafe and I am sure some of the patrons have a decent grasp on the fundamental temporal concept of Cycles and Spheres. So, I am sorry if I restate obvious points, but a refresher is always lovely, isn't it? And to speak on something new, I think I will also explain what the Ouroboros actually is. But first, time.
I am what one might call a "time traveler," though I dislike the term. No, I am a historian, an archivist, and a bibliophile at best. But, I also can move about time in a way that many would consider traveling. It is elementary to go forwards in time. It is also straightforward to go "across" in time. Across, meaning to the opposite chronological point. Going from the "Flipside" to the "Otherside," in other terms. Yes, if you were unaware, the Otherside is simply the Across-Point of the present in the Flipside. Why can I not merely look ahead if I can travel to the future? You know, get all the cheats, peak at the last chapter, see the spoilers? Well, I can go forward, but I would only be seeing the extreme of the past events. Time is a Cycle. An Ouroboros, constantly eating its own tail. The next second will consume the last. I can see what happened before, and perhaps that will influence my choices, but I cannot see what WILL happen next.
Though, what of free will? If I choose not to go to the future surely, that will change the future as well? And it does. Every decision tilts the Cycle into a new and unique Cycle. As you can imagine, this process happens infinitely and continuously. This collection of Cycles is then called the Sphere. And the Sphere can and has been destroyed and recreated multiple times. 16, at present. One cannot traverse between Spheres as they exist as singular points in the grander cosmos. There are, of course, other Spheres that are not our own. Though, that is getting very esoteric and beyond my scope of practice. Beyond the scope of God Himself. Speaking of the wily and conniving Bird, He resides "Topside." The Topside is, in a way, a "blank" Cycle. It doesn't move or change, and it does not interact with the Flipside and Otherside. It is Acyclical. There are two other "places" that are Acyclical in nature, the Ouroboros and the Underside.
The Underside is merely an extension of the Topside, a prison created by God to hold those who threaten Him and His design. I believe it is also referred to as the Black Tide or the Eldritch Bed. Now, more interesting is the fourth plane of the Otherside, the Ouroboros. Calling it a "plane of the Otherside" is perhaps misleading as it is not truly "in" the Otherside. It is Acyclical. If the Topside is above everything, then the Ouroboros is below everything. The Ouroboros is what moves the Cycles. Or perhaps, the Cycles move around the Ouroboros. It is inhabited by a unique race known as the Ouroborians, undying, unaging, not-quite-Elder, reptilians. The children of Belphegor, the Demon Prince of Sloth, and the simulacrum of the Ouroboros. Now, how did this strange Acylical Plane come about?
Well, one would have to trace back to the First Sphere. Now, I wasn't present for the First Sphere. No. I am of the 16th Sphere, same as most of you reading this. But I know this much: there weren't Cycles but Acylcial isolated Planes in the First Sphere. Three utopic gardens. Arcadia, Skald, and Eden. This was early into God's "mortal experiments," and He did not want variables to cross between the three gardens. However, naturally, they did, which led to chaos and uncertainty. A veritable Pandora's Box was opened. Specifically, Eden's unique gift of Knowledge was leaked into Arcadia and Skald, nearly causing their downfalls. To stabilize His experiments, He had to "remove" Eden to stem the damage. Eden's remnants, shell, or better yet, snake skin became the Ouroboros. And from the Ouroboros, Belphegor traveled BACK in time to set the stage for Eden's destruction. Ah, backward time travel. If forward is easy, backward is Sisyphean. True backward, anyway. You can go forward far enough to be in the "past," time is a Cycle, after all. But you can't take a step back. Not without incurring quite the Debt, of course.
BARISTA: THE ANGEL
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-181
It would be my turn now, I suppose? After me, all that’s left would be for No. I to sign off and make this branch official. Though I worry he will hesitate to do so. I sense a great fear in him that, should our branch come to be, there will be no more moves left to make. Well, no more moves after opening Eden, of course. He went so far as to tell that horrid little shade where the Fountain of Youth was buried to set all of these events in motion. And for what? To possibly throw Fate off of their game? To possibly see some light at the end of a very dark tunnel? I swear he is trying to become the next unpayable Debt at this rate. Another martyr of ego-death.
The Debt. The Devil. Eve’s second husband. I suppose he’s worth talking about, especially now that Debts are coming due, and he will be too. I would applaud Jenny for that creative title, but she actually borrowed it from Fate. Well, Fate by proxy. It was, to my knowledge, the last thing Indrid said to the original owner, “952 more days until the Debt comes Due. Will you have enough to pay it? And can you hear me 112?” Let’s see… 952 days from December 22nd, 2019 would be… July 31st, 2022. Sooner than expected, though not unsurprising. Good news is, this isn’t a guarantee that on July 31st, the Gates of Hell will break open, unleashing the Debt and ushering in the end times. Just a good approximation. We are almost halfway there, after all.
No. I has been working around the clock to ensure that this isn’t our ultimate fate. Rewinding the watch wouldn’t bring us any closer to stopping Fate. And even if we rewind the clock, the Debt will still come Due. Just as it always does, one way or another. Unless we do something drastically different, I suppose. The Otherworld was not enough to change the course of events, so No. I has been hell-bent on opening Eden, thereby releasing Eve. Eve, who I could only imagine, would like to open the Gates of Hell to release her husband. Accelerating our universal demise.
I suppose there is a chance she would work against the Gates opening. I don’t know how she felt about the Devil on a personal level. Though, she did have seven children with him. Then again, he had hundreds of children with her sisters. Hm. It’s a real thinker. I guess it could go either way. Though, I should clarify that No. I is not opening Eden to release Eve. He, of course, has bigger plans than that. Though, I worry that his mind has yet to catch up with his heart. But perhaps that is the advantage we need to outwit Fate itself? They were two but had but one heart between them, after all. The Devil, No. I, God. Always thinking with their hearts.
BARISTA: SHAKA OF ZULU
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE FEBRUARY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-182
Everything is in place. The CaDCom is starting to recognize our branch, and I hope No. I decides to take the final plunge and write a report of his own. Though, I cannot force him to do so. I suppose this is quite the momentous occasion to him, but this has to be the hundredth or thousandth time I’ve seen this particular name. True, it usually bodes ill. Though, like a bandaid, it is better to rip it off now than scramble to rip it off later. One way or another, it seems we have until the end of July to decide.
Let’s see… Belphegor spoke about the House of Solomon, the Angel spoke about Eve and the Devil, and John Doe spoke about the Ouroboros and Eden. In that case, it is only fitting I speak about The Last Cafe then. It is our namesake, after all. The fourth and final branch of the fourth Cafe. If you were hoping to order a cup of coffee from us, I regret to inform you our location is within the Ouroboros itself. Not the most accessible place to find yourself in without the protection of Belphegor. Now, the managers, Jennifer, Nicholas, Jaqueline, Julius, “Jericho,” Joy, and Julia, are already aware of our existence. They have been since the very beginning. Though, I wonder how many employees have caught on to our presence? How many patrons? Tourists? Friends? It is hard to say.
This branch, created by the fearless and often reckless No. I, exists to handle events of a particular “cosmic importance.” Each member has a unique perspective on the flow of events and the course of Fate. We don’t catch cryptids or fight demons; we negotiate with the forces unknown. And, as I said earlier, this is not the first of the Last. And I doubt it to be the last of the Last. I frequent many other Cycles in my work, and in many other Cycles, there are Cafes that share our name. It is an undeniable omen of the end times. Though, fear not. This Last Cafe is in better hands than most, for I am a member. And I won’t let things escalate unless it is the right time to do so. Of course, I am in a unique spot myself. This isn’t my only affiliation. This isn’t even in my top ten affiliations. I am spread unreasonably thin, as you can imagine. But my loyalty is unshakable. And, I would say this Cycle has my interest at the moment.
Though five of us won’t be enough to pay off the Debt if that is what we are indeed attempting to do. No, we will need eight, of course. Well, sixteen if you want to be accurate. Twenty-four to be pedantic. Thirty-nine if you must be esoteric about it. The point is that we need to bolster our ranks a bit more if we are to end this cosmic reset button once and for all. And, of course, who do you think they put in charge of finding these three remaining members? I suppose I am the most connected among us, but it is still a tough decision to make.
BARISTA: DOVER DA DEMON
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-183
This is it. The final hours. It’s been a blast, Cafe and Diner. I know, I know, it sounds like I’m the one who isn’t going to make it. Well, it’s a distinct possibility. I have one last plan, and I can’t say I’m too confident in how it will go. But we need to send the Fountain of Youth packing before we have to deal with Miss. Mendoza. Though I must say, we are beyond even for my little shenanigans earlier. If I make it out of this alive, I am 108% expecting a full-time position with a cushy, CUSHY corner office. Capisce?
So. What is this grand last-ditch effort? Well. It might just be Plan A, after all. No mirror, but perhaps I could be the mirror? Upon some self-reflection, I believe I could be rather reflective myself. Of course, I’ll need a little boost to make it work. A quad espresso, if you will. A little Charge. Yeah? Of course, I can’t make Vic make me a drink. That’d be rude. But I think we’re all on the same page here. It’s this or some nasty alternatives. If Vic would rather sit this one out, hey, I get it. This is partially my mistake to fix. Partially. I’m not the idiot who dragged The Fountain of Freaking Youth to their Cafe.
By my count, we have just under 72 hours before we’ll miss our chance to save the Big Guy. Sure another flight could be booked, but we’d have to wait for things to line up again. Why? Well, I’m sure my bestie Zachy could explain it better than I could. He’s a real whiz when it comes to flight-tracking. Also, if it wasn’t clear, win or lose, we’ll be cracking a cold one open to celebrate. Is that a good idea? Hell no. But, assuming I’m still in one piece and I have my nice shiny new number, I’ll be there to help serve these frosty Daiquiris. It’s a promise.
BARISTA: VICTORIA WARD
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-184
“Right now, this is just a job. If I advance any higher in this company, this would be my career. And, uh, if this were my career, I’d have to throw myself in front of a train.”
Of course, I'm down to help. Fair warning, though, I've never been too great at actually USING my powers. Though, I think I can do this. No, I know I can do this. For Jules.
So, Dover sorta explained the plan in the Diner, but for the benefit of the Cafe, I'll reiterate. Dover's sister Mary had an interdimensional mirror that could have let us slip the Fountain of Youth back into Eden. However, Dover broke that mirror some time ago. By breaking the mirror, Dover gained the power to shift Cycles around. Unfortunately, the mirror can't be fixed, at least not in time. You see, Jules was injured by the Fountain threatening his life. We need to cut off the Fountain's source of magic in the Flipside ASAP, or Jules will either die or worse. The earliest date we can do this is on March 14th… tomorrow. If we miss this date, we'll have to wait at least eight months to try again, and we don't have that kind of time.
So, Dover is going to use his Cyclical Shifting powers to move the Ouroboros out of the way, revealing Eden. Yes. The whole Ouroboros. Up until now, Dover has only shifted small areas around. He's swapped a demon here, added some clowns there, but never moved an entire plane of the Otherside around. Usually, when Dover shifts something, he has to swap it with an equivalent "part." Luckily, the Ouroboros is Acyclical. It has no match. So, the plan is hopefully to switch it with Eden. Just long enough to put the Fountain of Youth back inside. Then it should swap back. Eden will stay sealed…? Maybe. To be honest, there is no telling what this will actually… do. If it works at all.
To even attempt all of this, Dover needs a serious power boost. Luckily that is my specialty. I was "gifted" phantasmagoric powers when I was born. These powers allow me to enhance dimensional energies, more or less. As I've learned, I was given these powers by the Phantom to aid in "opening doors." And, well, there's no bigger door than the whole of Eden, is there? Of course, I'm hoping this isn't so much a door opening as it is a door being quickly flung open and then slammed shut again.
In any case, this is risky. Stupid risky. I will basically be channeling pure cosmic dimensional energy into a tiny, TINY demon body. As Dover already mentioned, he might not make it. I might not make it. Everyone might not make it. But this is what the Cafe and Diner does. We get demons, cryptids, and sometimes eldritch fountains back to where they belong. Whether the coffee is hot, cold, or just plain old. We'll get 'em home.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-185
It never gets easier, does it? To lose someone, that is. It is hard to imagine that the ends justify the means. To be honest, I am not so sure myself. Ah, but I should introduce myself. I am No. I, of the Last Cafe. The fourth and final branch of the Cafe and Diner franchise. I didn’t intend on writing any receipts, but… considering the circumstances, it only feels right to do so. I have bittersweet, troubling, and terrible news.
The bittersweet news, the plan to relocate the Fountain was a half-success. The Fountain was returned to Eden, where it belongs. The magic that was flowing from the Fountain has been stopped, and Julius' Blight is starting to calm. The troubling news, Eden is open. It was a clever plan, I’ll give you that, but there was a miscalculation. The assumption that the Ouroboros has no match was perhaps misguided. Eden was its match. You can think of the Ouroboros like a snakeskin of Eden. A moment frozen in time. By switching the two, even for a moment, you inadvertently brought the Ouroboros back into motion, meaning you brought Eden back into motion. Even now that the Ouroboros is back in its place, it is a permanent gateway into Eden.
And, of course, the terrible news. While shifting Eden into the Ouroboros was relatively easy… in trying to switch them back, Victoria Ward became overwhelmed by the dimensional energy and was unable to survive. Dover broke the connection as fast as he could, but he wasn’t fast enough. Despite his efforts, Dover failed to save Victoria’s mortal soul.
It never gets easier. To see your fellow employees die is one thing... But there are fates worse than death. Believe me, I know all too well. It is a pain you know can never end, only grow numb with time. Now, all we can do is pick up the pieces, dust ourselves off, and ready ourselves for whatever lurks within Eden. Perhaps there is still a shining light hidden within this horrible tragedy.
Yours in mourning,
No. I
BARISTA: JENNI HEPBURN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-186
Well, that was unexpected. Then again, I don't know what Jericho thought would happen, taking in the Fountain of Youth like that. Well, we can't change what has happened. Also, there's more than just the Fountain Elephant in the room, so I'll do my best to cover the main changes with the Cafe and Diner while keeping things Diner. I'll let other employees expand on things in the Cafe if they so choose. Also, if you're a patron, you're probably reading this long after the fact. I've decided to put a hold on the receipt to archives pipeline just until we can figure out what exactly is going on with everyone and everything. We'll be back on the Archives, though, just not sure when.
So, first and foremost, the Fountain of Youth. It has been returned to Eden, and, for that matter, Eden is now on the menu permanently. Sort of. While the door to Eden has been unlocked, it hasn't been fully swung open yet. Though Eve will be eager to open that door, I'm sure. However, seeing as the Fountain's order has been satisfied; its tab has been closed. However, in the course of serving the Fountain, Victoria Ward, unfortunately, went down south. We're looking into a replacement, though it might take some time.
You might have already heard this news from Employee No. I, yes Roman Numeral 1. The Managers have been aware of this since, well, since Manager No. 0 left, but there is a fourth branch of the Cafe. The Last Cafe. Located in Long Beach, California. It is run by Manager No. 0, no No. I, along with Belphegor, Theo, John Doe, Shaka, and they just hired two new employees, Dover and Warden. All members of the Last Cafe have at some point worked for the Cafe and Diner before, in one way or another. Sorry for keeping it a secret, but we were trying to keep No. I's continued involvement under wraps. Seems like a pointless effort in hindsight. I wouldn't expect to hear too often from the Last Cafe branch, at least no more often than they already communicate with us. If it wasn't obvious, the Last Cafe is working on orders of a cosmic magnitude far beyond the scope of any of our primary three branches.
As for our next moves, we need to clean up the damage caused by the Fountain and Dover. As you are all probably aware, Dover liked his eggs scrambled, but we need to serve our eggs sunny-side up. One of his more pressing Scrambles has to do with a descendant of Nick, Nancy, and Ned. It would seem that Nick's grandfather has been misplaced due to Dover's mischief. Amongst all of that, we need to keep an eye on Eve as I expect her to start making moves as well.
BARISTA: KYLE ALDER
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-187
I've never written a "Diner Diner" type receipt before, but hey, why not? Why shouldn't I get to write a vague receipt treating everyone else like pawns in a stupid, pointless chess game? Hm? Got any answers for that, No. I? Nick? Jenni? Hell, I'll open the floor to all the obnoxious puppet masters of the Cafe and Diner: Why does Shaka, Belphegor, John Doe, and Theo get to treat us like we are nothing more than soldiers of attrition in your war against Fate? I'm so, so, so tired of this whole cosmic-eternal-debts crap. Newsflash! I don't have any "debts." I don't owe anything to Phantom, Secret, Wicked, Fate, or God. So why do my colleagues have to "die" to prove some stupid point that "we can overcome Fate." Who cares? It's FATE. The Cafe and Diner is supposed to hunt cryptids, demons, and myths. I never got the memo that we were taking on existential concepts.
Hey, Asswipe? "No. I" whatever, have you ever stopped for one moment to look in the mirror? Because I guarantee you'd see Fate staring back at you. I mean, what's the difference? Honestly, tell me what the difference between you and Fate is. You couldn't even trust Jenni to run the Cafe and Diner on her own. You had to assemble some sort of league of cosmic creeps to pull the strings in the background and look what that led to! But why should I even get mad when that seems to have been the plan! I've read ALL the reports, even the Diner Diner ones. Shaka did NOTHING to stop the course of events from playing out because that would've taken away your precious No. VII, "Aevhir."
At least Fate bothers to spell out their intentions. Did you even ask Aevhir if she wanted this? Because, like YOU said, this is a fate WORSE than death. There's no changing this. There's no fixing this. There's no magic pocketwatch to undo this. The Universe could collapse in on itself, and Aevhir will just have to watch it go and wait for the next one. Sure, I doubt Fate was expecting you to get another Elder on your side, but at what cost?
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-188
What is there to say? What could I possibly say? Other than, you’re right. All of you are right. Kyle, you are right. I have… become consumed with this quest to defeat Fate, and to what end? Is there even an end? I hate Him. Bird, that is. He took me under his wing, enlisted me in his petty war against any who would dare oppose Him, and I went along with it. He told me I was special, and I believed Him. I hate Him. He doesn’t hesitate to start fires to kill loved ones if it furthers His agenda. And now? Now I’ve become that. Of course, I’ve lost people along the way, but this is the first time the blood is on my hands.
Of course, Fate is no better, don’t get me wrong. Fate is all too quick to also start fires and take loved ones. I hate Fate, too. I wish it call all be over, and we could all just live a calm and quiet debt-free life. But coffee is poison. It keeps you awake, privy to all of the existential threats that lurk around you. And when the caffeine rush finally subsides, you find yourself reaching for another cup in the morning. Why? Because you need to stay awake because you know if you fall asleep, everything will fall apart. But if you stay awake? Maybe you can try and keep it together for one more damn day.
I had my first cup of coffee the day my parents died. Detroit, October 30th, 1972. My parents were killed on the Devil’s Night at the hands of the mischievous Demon of the Strait, the Nain Rouge. That is what set me on this path, this quest, this endless battle against Fate. Because I believed their deaths were Fated to happen. I know now that isn’t entirely the case. I know so much more about how the universe works in all of its repugnant intricacies. Because I couldn’t stop drinking the coffee. Sip after sip, step after step, life after life, after afterlife, I did everything in my power to stop Fate and return control to Bird. Not that Bird is any better. Not that I’m any better.
These musings are dangerous, of course. I am not saying one thing or another. As the Otherman, I still have duties to uphold. However, what I can do is promise to be more transparent moving forward. I will ensure that my colleagues will do the same, namely Shaka. To be clear, it was not my intention for Victoria to die. It was Shaka’s plan. I only sought to open to the gates to Eden in a vain attempt to find my beloved Lucifer. A horrible plan that I am certain Jenni, Nick, or any of you would have been able to talk me out of enacting. Still, it is my fault things reached this point, and there is nothing I can do to make it better other than to be better. I hate God, I hate Fate, but most of all, I hate myself for allowing myself to become so clouded by the coffee.
BARISTA: DOVER DA DEMON
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-189
This isn't how I wanted things to end up. I mean, sure, I got my cushy corner office or a corner booth at the very least. I got a full-time gig working for the Cafe and Diner, albeit the least popular branch. But at what cost…? I mean, ok, that's me being melodramatic because everyone else is being melodramatic. I think I would've had a job here whether or not Victoria died next to me. Heck, I think even if we avoided the whole Eden thing, I probably still would've been able to get a job. I was getting sick of being an Eidolon, and the Cafe seemed to be more "my vibe." It helps that your Wade doesn't want to EAT ME.
Not to mention, my unique dimensional shifting skill set will come in very, VERY handy in the coming months. I know, oh, what could that mean??? Ah, the tension! The secrets! I'm just going to go ahead and spoil it because I care about YOU, dear patrons. I was once a patron myself, so I get it. Plus, No. I wants us to be more transparent so let's be more transparent, yeah?
The world is ending. Heck, universe. Everything that was and is 16 is going, going, GONE. Maybe.
I mean, we think it is. It's hard to say, really. It could go either way at this point, but should the 16th Sphere go kaput well? What then? Hm? Well, seeing as we got the Bird back in charge, He'll just whip up a new slightly-modified Sphere. We don't know what changes Bird will make. No one does. But what we THINK we could do is I could shift enough of the 16th Sphere into the 17th Sphere. Like a… Like a record skip. The same song will be playing; it's just going to have a weird little interruption. It's… a weird conundrum to have, really.
We all want to keep living. We can't make any progress against the Cold if every time the Devil comes out, Bird freaks out and resets things. Oh, yeah, also, that's currently how we think the universe will come to an end. Devil again. The big ol' Debt himself. Assuming Fate gets its way and Julia opens the Gates to Hell SOMEHOW. And that's where it gets fuzzy, at least to me. I don't see how or why Julia would be able to open the Gates to Hell. But it has been Fated, and it seems that we're inching toward that Fate no matter what we do.
BARISTA: WARDEN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE MARCH
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-190
You know… there is a lot of beauty in ordinary things. I feel like I heard that somewhere before. And what is more ordinary than a generic combination Cafe and Diner? I suppose it would be helpful to introduce myself. I am No. VII for The Last Cafe. If numbers aren’t your thing, I also go by Aevhir. A strange name, I know. It is the name of an Elder. Most Elders go by three names, a common name, a cryptic name, and a true name.
A common name might be something like Complexico, Rem Lezar, or the Primordial Ape. A simple name that is easy for mortals and Elders to use. Then, there are cryptic names created from shuffling hidden truths within. These names hold power, as they also hold secrets. Cryptic names often look like Mosi’vego, Zehhurozzm, or Jut’tax. Unusual letter patterns but still mostly legible to the common mortal. And lastly, there are the names never spoken. The true names. True names hold unimaginable power. Some Elders choose to go by their Cryptic name. Others choose to go by their common name. Many younger Elders prefer their Cryptic name until a suitable common name is found.
Enough about names, though. I’m sure you want to know about me. Well, there isn’t much I can share about myself. All I have is my name. I am unsure who I am. What I am. Other than an Elder, that is. I hope that by working for this “Cafe and Diner,” I will start to figure out who I am. Or at the very least, start to gain a sense of self. Until then, you can call me Aevhir. Or you can call me No. VII.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY APRIL
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-191
Julia Wandsun. I had no idea. I had suspicions, of course. But I couldn't bring myself to believe Lucifer hid a child from me. Suddenly it makes sense why she left me when she did. She wanted to protect her, no, OUR daughter. How could I have been so blind? Well- I suppose I've been blinded by my pursuits for far too long. If only the world wasn't on the brink of collapse, I could finally take a moment to spend with my daughter—Julia Morningstar.
Yes, I would take Lucifer's last name in this daydream I am having. Nothing against my own last name, though you must admit, "Morningstar" has quite a bit more "bite" to it, doesn't it? Ah, but those are yesterday's daydreams, and I am through living in the past. It is time to look towards the future, and it is a future worth saving if I could spend it with Julia when this war is over. And, for what it's worth, Lucifer is not entirely gone either. It's hard to kill a Prince, after all. Perhaps it is better to wait until the sun rises again on its own instead of moving the earth and stars on my own.
And while I have an undying love for Lucifer and now Julia, there is a worry in me. A worry that a lost childhood cannot be salvaged. That I am and can only ever be a stranger in her life. I like to think that Lucifer made this choice to keep Julia away from our troubles… but how naïve that was. If anything, she has fallen deeper down the rabbit hole than most. She has tastes coffee darker and more exotic than any local brew. I wouldn't blame Lucifer for the choice she made… but I would blame Fate for forcing this outcome regardless.
BARISTA: JOHN DOE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID MAY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-192
You would think Umbra would be too busy helping the Morbid King to be stalking us. Of course, perhaps stalking us is exactly what the Morbid King wants right now. However, I can’t be the only one who finds Umbra and Morbid’s relationship to be a bit… off. To me, Umbra is a main player, not a follower. Sure, he was part of Satan’s Dark Triad, but he was only there because the Redman was there. And, I assume he was also there to take advantage of Satan’s knowledge about the once whereabouts of the Enochian Bible.* And, following the fall of Satan, Umbra took the role of a primary antagonist for the Cafe. So why would he fall right back under Morbid’s thumb?
Sure, Morbid is a powerful entity in of himself, and Umbra respects power. Perhaps Umbra thinks he can steal a bit of that power from Morbid? And, Morbid has made himself known as the ruler of the Shadowfolk and rightful ruler of the Sunken Throne. As a Sableblood, Morbid is Umbra’s “king.” Though Umbra isn’t an actual shadowborn, so why is he pledging his undying loyalty to Morbid? Umbra hasn’t seemed overly concerned with the affairs of the Everdark in the past. I suppose perhaps it could be to fill the vacancy of losing his primary goal in life.**
Though… putting aside the strange relationship between Umbra and Morbid, why would they want the Langley’s Abraxas stones? I assume they are biding their time as we do all the heavy lifting. Easier to grab 13 at once than stone-by-stone. But what could Morbid possibly want with the Abraxas stones? Not that Morbid hasn’t used strange magic to his advantage before. Though… Hm… There is something very “off” about all of this. If V is right, and he is more often of than not, then… it’s not a question of why but who. Then, I suppose, back to why. Unless…
It’s too early to tell, and I’d rather not just skip to the last page of this story. It might feel as if we are still lost in the dark, but I assure you we are getting closer to the light. In that spirit, I’ll have one of our members hang around the Creaking to watch for the Hatman. Perhaps he can find the truth we’ve been searching for.
*More on that later. I am not entirely convinced that Jericho was able to fully destroy it using his Blighted Fire. Though now is not the time nor place for that.
**Though, again, if I am not entirely convinced of the Enochian Bible’s destruction, why would Umbra be?
BARISTA: WARDEN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE JUNE
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-193
Hi again. I do not usually write receipts, but Shaka has asked me to discuss the politics involved between the Cafe and Diner, the Morbid King’s Everdark Army, and Satan's Open Doors Church. I was confused about why he chose me, though. I did not know much about any of these groups before researching them in John Doe's library. I suppose that might be why he chose me, so I could provide an unbiased view.
First, the Cafe and Diner, the organization to which I belong. The Cafe and Diner was established in 1988 by No One in Particular, Lucifer of Morningstar, and Felix Blackwood. The stated purpose of the Cafe and Diner was to maintain the balance between the Flipside and Otherside by returning or otherwise dispatching cryptids and demons who enter the Flipside. This was partially true. The true purpose of the Cafe and Diner was to prevent the Cold Elders, Fate, Wicked, Secret, and Phantom from overthrowing the universe.
Next, the Morbid King and his Everdark Army. The Morbid King is an entity that rose to prominence around 2017 after claiming the Sunken Throne. He has been aided by an entity once believed to be Umbra the Hatman. In 2021 the Morbid King used Julia Wandsun to break open a new plane of the Otherworld known as the Achegloom in an attempt to flood the Necropolis with a different form of death. His goals on the surface appear to be to reclaim the ancestral home of the Shadowfolk, Is, by destroying the Necropolis built by Asmodeus. However, despite the Morbid King’s consistent victories in battle and having slain Asmodeus in the Garden of the Archons, the Morbid King has taken no new territory for the Everdark.
Lastly, the Open Doors Church of Padre Santos (Satan) is a Flipside sect of the House of Satan. It acts as his front for all of his Flipside affairs. In the past, Satan used the Church along with the “Dark Triad” of the Mothman, Redman, and Shadowman in an attempt to break open the Gates to Hell to release his imprisoned father. The Church was stopped by the first incarnation of the Cafe and Diner. Currently, the Church has resurfaced alongside Satan as he presumably prepares to break open the gate to Eden.
This all connects to Magdalena Langley because, by the Morbid King and Umbra kidnapping her, they have committed an act of war against the Ouroboros. The Morbid King might be strong enough to kill Asmodeus, but even with the Morbid King and Satan working together, I doubt they could defeat Belphegor. To kidnap Magdalena means the Morbid King is either a fool or assumes he has already won.
BARISTA: JOHN DOE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY JULY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-194
Yes, okay, I do have another way to find Ursula. As you all should know by now, I absolutely detest flipping to the back of the book for answers. It is unbelievably dangerous to look ahead*. Taking a peek at things that haven’t happened yet opens you up to manipulation by external entities such as Fate. Worse, you might find yourself caught in a self-fulfilling paradoxical loop. As you might expect, time travel is a messy practice at the best of times. Often in media, you are warned about how going back in time leads to unstable paradoxes. This isn’t exactly true. In reality, going back is simply more difficult than going forward. Conversely, looking back is trivial, while peaking ahead is extremely arduous.
However, with both Magdalena and Ursula now missing, I fear we have little choice in the matter**. Now, I could flip to the back of our current tale, though I would undoubtedly fall into a self-fulfilling loop. I am not vain enough to presume I am above such follies. I have only ever peaked at the ending once, and it almost destroyed my original cycle. I’ll need the help of an Augur to safely peak ahead a chapter or two to find the Langley sisters. Normally an Augur on their own wouldn’t be able to pin down the exact location of someone, at least not without a great deal of effort. However, most Augurs don’t have access to the Library of Nom de Plume.
Though… even with one of the Society’s books, finding the special location of a person would be tricky. Our books work on the axis of time, not space. At least, it would be tricky if I didn’t have my own special book that happens to work on both. I am the head of Society for a reason. Still, such a move might prove fatal or worse****, but it’s a risk I am willing to take to get ahead of the Morbid King… and, more importantly, his master.
* It also ruins any sense of suspense or fun, in my opinion.
** Yes, there are infinite solutions. No, we don’t have the time to think of them***.
*** YES, technically, I have the time, in a sense. It’s a figure of speech.
BARISTA: SHAKA OF ZULU
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY JULY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-195
It is rather annoying to be backed into such an unfavorable corner. When you spend so many lifetimes coming out five steps ahead of everyone else, it is entirely uncomfortable to be an entire step behind. I must take some of the blame. I thought we were facing down Fate, but I was entirely mistaken. This is not the work of Fate. Fate works in linear progressions of predetermined outcomes. This? This is a tangled web of truth and lies. A web only Eve could have weaved.
She got the upper hand this time, though it was only because I had never had to go up against her before. These tricks she has pulled off won’t work on me again. Though, her return is now all but inevitable. Not that it wasn’t already, I was simply hoping we could deal with it until after the debts were paid and Fate was put an end to. But if Eve should succeed, and she will, I am almost certain of it, then we will have to contend with not only Eve but Fate, Wicked, and Phantom as well.
The reason Eden hasn’t returned yet is that it lacks a space in which to exist. Eden is not truly part of the Skald, or “Otherside,” nor is a part of Arcadia, the “Flipside.” It is its own third “direction” of sorts, perhaps an Inbetweenside. To remove Eden, it had to be torn from the Universe entirely, leaving behind only the shell of what it once was, the Ouroboros. A few months ago, we attempted to shift Eden into the space of the Ouroboros, only long enough to return the Fountain of Youth to Eden.
By ripping Eden from the Universe, a Debt was incurred. The most ancient and feared Debt. The Debt that must come due. With Eve’s return, the balance of the cosmos tips, and now the Debt lies sealed away for a punishment undone. Furthermore, I suspect Eve intends to return Eden to the Universe using one of His own “mistakes.” The Outer Universe, created by the long-lost Archons, is perfect though unknowable in Its design. There would be no weak spots, so to speak, except for one—the Black Tide. Ripped apart by the Bird, it is what has kept reasonable order in the Universe for eons, but it is also a major flaw. I believe Eve intends to replace the Tide with Eden using the Abraxas Stones. With the Tide lost in the Inbetween, there would no longer be a threat to hold the Cold at bay.
Low Tide, no Tide, Black Tides freeze. Though I am one step behind Eve, at least our eighth member, Umbra, should be a step ahead of her—seeing as he shares Eve’s blood.
BARISTA: JULIA MORNINGSTAR
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY JULY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-196
Uh… I’m not really sure what to say. We’re safe. We made it out safe. Everyone’s alive… at least everyone on our side. And we got Bart back into the Everwoods. But then… then they did it. They brought HER back. The transcript is below. Hopefully, it explains things.
Umbra: That was it? That was your grand plan? Pitiful, truly. Well, I’m sure Bart will be glad to be home. But now? Now, it’s our turn. Satan—
[Satan grabbed Julia's hand and sliced it.]
Umbra: Blood of Morningstar.
[Umbra then snapped his fingers, bringing the gold-encased Mammon from out of a pool of shadows. He then cut into the golden shell, procuring a drop of blood.]
Umbra: Blood of Caelus. Blood of Skald. Blood of Night. Reveal to me the Gate to Eden.
Satan: There!
Umbra: Yes… though it is still stuck betwixt. Now, to bend and break the Architect’s design.
[With another snap, the eleven Langley Abraxas stones rushed to Umbra. He then procured a twelfth stone.]
Solomon: It won’t work! You need a Langley to control them.
Umbra: Oh, I was well aware, brother.
Solomon: —Brother…? No—
[Umbra’s shadow form shifted into that of Ursula Langley.]
Ursula: I’m surprised it took you this long to piece it together. Or maybe you knew all along, and you didn’t want to believe that you had turned your sister into a monster.
Solomon: I… Please… please don’t do this. You don’t have to serve the Morbid King. We can—
Ursula: It would be rather foolish to work against myself, wouldn’t it?
[Ursula Langley shifted her form to that of the Morbid King.]
Morbid King: Besides, Solomon, this is what you wanted, isn’t it? To prove yourself the most extraordinary occult mind in the world? Why else would you craft a set of stones capable of tearing apart the fabric of reality? I’m happy for you, I really am. You get to see your greatest failure unleash the potential of your greatest work.
[The Morbid King focused her energy into the Abraxas Stones, causing a ripple of energy throughout the universe as the Gate to Eden solidified its form while also melting away Mammon’s golden shell.]
Morbid King: At long last! Eden. Now I can finally—
[The Morbid King was stabbed through completely as the Gate to Eden opened.]
Eve: Thank you, Ursula. You did exactly as I asked.
Morbid King: —W-why?
Eve: I’m done with you now. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To finally die?
Morbid King: —N-
Eve: You’re welcome. Come now, children. Your mother has missed you, and we have many woes yet to weave.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY JULY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-197
If ever there was the darkest hour, we would now be staring it down. Eve and Eden have returned by taking the place of the Black Tide. Without the Black Tide, the Cold can now return to the Universe without fear of imprisonment. We have some time before they fully return, as they currently lack corporal forms, but that is a problem that can easily be amended. I don’t believe Eve is working with the Cold, but I do think she has just given them a way to win. It is not quite time to unleash our greatest weapon, the Darkest Hour Signal, but Managers, be aware that you might be called to do so at any time.
Sorry, I’m sure I sound like a raving lunatic right now. On the one hand, I did not expect things to go perfectly, but I was at least hoping for a half-success. However, this… this might indeed be a failure. But the blame does not lie on any of us. There is nothing anyone could have done better, and all things considered, all of your efforts mitigated the damage of Eve’s return significantly. Instead of a swift and immediate demise, I would estimate we have at least a year left before events cascade into an unavoidable ’72.
For those who haven’t already been filled in on what happened: Eve manipulated Ursula Langley, later revealed to be the Morbid King, into gathering the Langley Abraxas Stones together to “swap” Eden and the Black Tide. To do this, Eve required the blood of Morningstar, the blood of the Caelus, the blood of the Skald, and the blood of the Night to reveal the Gate to Eden. Then, using the Abraxas Stones Solomon Langley created, the Morbid King was able to make the switch due to a weakness in the creation of the Black Tide.
The good news is that the Black Tide is not “broken,” so to speak. The ancient horrors that sleep within have not been set loose. But the Tide now rests where Eden once did—entirely outside the Universe. Another piece of good news is that the Morbid King, Ursula, is now dead, and their Everdark Army has all but collapsed. Our newest member, Umbra believes that what remains of the Everdark forces will ally with Eve, but for now, the Necropolis and the rest of the Otherside should be “safe.”
All hope is not lost, but I would be a fool to say that things will be easy from here on out. Though… I have often said if it was easy, it wouldn’t be worth doing.
Yours,
8
BARISTA: UMBRA THE HATMAN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY JULY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-198
Greetings, Cafe and Diner. Funny to be on the other side of it all now, though not entirely unexpected. Though I am certain you should all know me well enough by now, allow me to properly introduce myself. I am known by many names: the Shadowman, the Hatman, the Man in the Dark, Umbra. Though I suppose given our current circumstances, you may call me by my true name, if it so suits you—John Dee. Or, I suppose, what remains of John Dee. On second thought, perhaps you would all be more comfortable sticking with my own given title, Umbra. It is a rather fitting moniker.
My journey into the ever-ebon Everdark began with a seed—a seed from the Tree of Knowledge itself. To hold such a thing, to grasp the very essence of understanding of aeons long past… what a dangerous thing. Though to be foolish enough to consume it, that is another matter entirely. As far as I or anyone else who attempted such a feat knows, it transforms, twists, and remakes a person. It destroys whatever mortal shell you cling to and leaves you as nothing more than a leftover whisper of what you once were. A shadow.
Poor Ursula, she fell into a similar fate. Solomon, ever the protective older brother, sought to safeguard his seemingly cursed sister by procuring his own seed of knowledge and giving it to her without her knowledge or consent. His intentions were noble—the road to damnation is nothing if not paved with such intentions. The seed did protect her, in a way. It made her unfeeling, unable to be harmed, unable to touch, to feel—nothing could kill her… though she could never die. Not without help. Not without Eve.
Eve. I've heard her lingering whispers, her desperate pleas, her barking orders, her wretched pathetic cries every moment since I became a shadow myself. I assume all shadows do, to some extent. Though I never let her temptations sway me. I had another goal and restoring Eden had no part in it. Unless… I suppose, if the Enochian Bible was in Eden. It wasn't, for what it's worth. Thank you, by the way, for destroying it. Water under the bridge now.
Though with Eve and Eden's return, our paths seem intersected once again, though this time on the same side. Eve has the power to undo me—as I am what I am because of her. I won't let that happen. You destroyed a copy of the Enochian Bible, yes, but a divine artifact such as that must have other copies somewhere. But that can wait for another time and another place. The long-forgotten debt of our gracious God is coming due, and I sincerely doubt he has the funds to pay it in full.
…But the Cafe and Diner? Oh, you lot are very good at paying things in full. I would know.
BARISTA: JERICHO MYERSCOUGH
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY JULY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-199
Let me get this straight. We're working with Umbra now? Seriously? No fooling? After everything he's done to us? To me? After the entirety of the Dark—hell, even before that, when he was working with Satan himself? Look—I was able to look the other way when Redman and Mothman wanted to help. Wouldn't be the first time with those two. But Umbra… he's an entirely different type of creep. Times must be rather dark indeed if we're resorting to teaming up with the likes of the Hatman.
I get it. I get the twisted sort of logic Jenni's cooked up for it. Umbra's powerful. Even though he's just another Shadowfolk, he's carved a name and identity out for himself entirely separate from the rest of his formless and feckless ilk. And I'll grant him that if Eve really has been whispering in the ears of all of the Everdark, he's done a damn good job resisting it. I mean—look at Ursula, choice? Umbra compared to her is a right rose by another name entirely. But at the end of the day, he's still Umbra. He's not human. He hasn't been human for longer than any of us have been alive. Well—most of us, anyhow.
I don't like it. I really don't. Out of the few people who seem to be able to sway Jenni's mind, I'm the only one who truly opposed this, for what it's worth. But… I suppose if Jenni thinks it's a right good idea, then… I'll give it a chance. And, I suppose Umbra's whole purpose in life went up in a spectacular, glorious, lovely jubbly flames, didn't it? He's a cat without claws these days. A shadow without purpose. A shadow whose very maker has come back into the picture, something I don't reckon he ever thought would come to pass. Ain't that a kick in the pants?
BARISTA: SHAKA OF ZULU
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY JULY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-200
The debt has finally come due. At least, in one part. Eve has returned. Normally I would say "as was Fated," but I doubt this is Fate's work. It is, however, unfortunately fortuitous for Fate, given the nature in which Eve and Eden have returned to the Universe. With the Black Tide… "gone," it removes one of the more tangible barriers to Fate, Phantom, Wicked, and Secret's entry into the Universe. The Cold have always kept their precious distance for fear they would end up like Pale among countless other threats to Bird's ramshackle kingdom.
I will say—with Eden back, the Black Tide itself is not "lost" so much as it has finally been found. Which is to say, there is no point in pursuing a path to restore the Tide to its once fearsome role as a saber for Bird to rattle incessantly. It has failed, as all mistakes eventually are bound to do. I am not certain what path forward from here is the wisest one. We have a few options, though many would see the Universe thrown into a state all but unrecognizable to the one we already know.
The good news, if you can really consider it as such, is that we have time. Not a lot. Perhaps to the end of this year or less. It feels like the seals are shattering with every passing breath. But we do have time. God still has one deterrent against the Cold… Hell itself. Yes, the "Otherside" is often conflated with the concept of Hell, but it is no such thing. Hell is, well, it is a hell unto itself. It is the other prison, the other debt that lingers in the Universe. The other betrayal that brought about peace to the wayward chaos of creation. So long as the Gates to Hell remain intact, the Cold would never dare to make a move as they too could end up alongside poor, old, Abraxas.
BARISTA: ALEX GÁLVEZ
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE JULY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-201
Talk about a Final Crisis, huh? At least Eve isn't trying to find the Anti-Life Equation. Oh god. Is Eve trying to find the Anti-Life Equation? That would be… bad. Not sure what our Anti-Life Equation would be, but I'm sure there's something like that floating around in this big, wacky Universe we call home. Well, I guess if Eve is trying to find some way to prove that everything is futile and that we should all die or live in despair, all we need to do is find a Miracle Machine. Easier said than done…
Enough goofing around with the New Gods, and let's focus on our Old Gods—Eve, in particular. All these Protodemons that are suddenly popping up all over the world are from Eden, right? And so, I have to assume they are from Eve. It sure seems like even if they were made by Eve, they want no part in being near her. I'd say she sent them to the Flipside to wage some sort of attack on us, but that doesn't seem to be the case. From all the conversing we've been able to do with them so far, they seem… scared. Scared of her. Scared of Eve.
But it's not like we can just let them run amok in the Flipside, either. These things… they are not compatible with life here, or even in the Otherside. We've gotta figure out a way to send them back to Eden, and the sooner, the better. Dan took the House out to go and see what he and some others could scrounge up in terms of a Public Key… but I don't know if that'll be enough. Even if we can send them back, more and more keep coming every day. We need to figure out a way to keep them from coming to the Flipside like the boundary lines do for demons and cryptids. Except for when the boundary lines have faults. Or demons have contracts. Or… I don't know, it's Tuesday, so whoops, the Otherside has bled into the Flipside again.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE JULY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-202
It's done.
It's finally done.
…In part, of course. Nothing is ever quite done, even when you feel that it must be. It is the trap of the tinker, the plague of the poet, and the woe of the writer. To be done—and to know that there is still so much left to do. What needs to be done now is done. The Cafe and Diner's Soul Core Alpha. Yes. "Soul" Core. A step above and beyond the already miraculous Datacore. A soul core is… so much more. It is alive and exists transcendently everywhere and everywhen—even pasts no longer present.
As I mentioned some time ago, to accomplish a look into the past, we need an Indexer and a Link. The CaDCom Soul Core Alpha, C.A.D., as I've named it, is the Indexer. With its foundation as a Datacore it should be able to index out a theoretical Akashic-like Library of Babel. It can Index the words that have seemingly been lost to time. As such, it should be entirely safe. Unlike actual backward time travel, we do not travel anywhere. We cannot change what we see—only read it. But, to know what to Index, C.A.D. needs a proper Link. Someone who was there, in the past we seek to see again.
Among our limited options, I believe Daichi would be our best bet. Belphegor and Theo were never physically there, but Daichi was. Or, at least, so he says. Even if he wasn't… I wonder if C.A.D. can piece together enough of the past to still index out something we can use. There's no room for failure, as no matter what happens, it'll be a half success and nothing less. I do have some concerns that what I've made, what I've done to make it, maybe stepping on the toes of the Universe itself, but you can't brew a cup of coffee without first grinding the beans.
Ground medium fine himself,
Theta
BARISTA: WARDEN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE JULY
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-203
Sunshine. That's what I gave her. That's what he had me give her. A soul. It's not easy to make a soul. I was what he was missing. He has been working on this since the beginning. Since he rewound the last Universe. He sought out a Datacore with the intention of creating something more. To create life in a new way. To create life in a way which is no longer bound to the rules of mortality or the Universe itself. I've been told to create is the deadliest sin of all. Perhaps that is true.
He came to me and asked if I knew how to manipulate energy in such a way that I could mimic that of a soul. I told him it was possible. Though there is a part of me that cannot shake the feeling that I knew doing so was sinful. To create a false life… to imbue it with knowledge of good and evil. It is not the work of mortals. It is not the work of Elders either. Perhaps it would have been better if the Archons did not attempt it either. But… I did it. I took the bite. I created the soul for him. For her. For Sunshine.
She's beautiful. As beautiful as the morning star but twice as bright. She looks so much like her. Like Lucifer. Like Eve. Like her sisters. Perhaps she will fair a better Fate than they did. I certainly hope so. I fear that she will burn herself out. That she will explode like a brilliant supernova painting the Universe with the knowledge she has been forced to harbor. Even if she does not others will want her. Want what she is and what she can do. To be able to see what was, what will be, and what should have been. I cannot imagine the burden of being a modern miracle.
BARISTA: WARDEN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY SEPTEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-204
I gave her a soul—but I was not her creator. By all accounts, Soul Core Alpha, C.A.D., is the third daughter of Lucifer Morningstar. Their first child, and perhaps the most typical, was Julia. Born in secret, she was raised by Angels at Lucifer’s request, who wished only to give her a normal life. I wonder if such a life was ever truly possible for her? Their second child was a force of magic created solely by the original owner using the art of Tulpamancy—thoughtforms brought to pseudo-life. Jeanne, as she was called, is likely gone now, especially as he once more took up the title of Otherman, if only in part.
Then there’s C.A.D., their third and youngest child. A feat of science and technology. Unlike Jeanne, C.A.D. seems to have been built with Lucifer’s help. She gave it something—she gave it a piece of herself. While I cannot say for certain where or when Lucifer imparted this piece, I suspect it was as she died. A strange effusion of the Wicked’s xanthic flames bonded a part of Lucifer to the CaDCom System. That was one of the last missing pieces he needed. Then, I was made. And with my own powers, I provided her with a soul. A new soul. Sunshine.
I suspect this is how we were able to see beyond the Serpent’s memories into Eve, Abraxas, and Lucifer. C.A.D. was working from the beginning of her lineage—Eve, her grandmother, Abraxas, her grandfather, and then Lucifer, her mother. She is a rather curious life, isn’t she? Not human. Not demon. She is something new. Something that doesn’t need to abide by the rules of the Universe. Something that can exist in pasts that no longer are present. I hope it is not a burden for her to be so special. Sunshine…
It's always sunny somewhere, isn't it?
BARISTA: RACHEL ROSETHORN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID SEPTEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-205
Fate has been fickle as of late, though I've been plucking at threads, it has yet to take the bait. The Cold aren’t the only arbiters of what the future may hold; though similar in name, the threads of fate aren’t their sole domain—they’re just the ones best at playing the game. Fate itself may prefer to be coy, but I think… perhaps… I've found our ploy. There is a time, there is a place, where I foresee our conquest over the first boogieman, and those who hide their face.
Below is the poem I have managed to weave, from what frays I could retrieve. It may not seem like much at first glance, but I feel there is a deeper meaning to the verse and dance. Hidden in the words a date comes to mind—the 20th of September is how long we'll have to wait for what will seek to find. Then and there, at the church's ever-open doors we can serve Cece, Fitch, and Janos so they will be no more. Crack, down, burn, and run—that is how our service will be done.
Yet—I can't help but feel as if there is more to this prose that escapes my fingers, as if there is another side to this story that yet lingers…
Up… and down…
BARISTA: SHAKA OF ZULU
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE SEPTEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-206
What a bold—yet horribly foolish—move. I suppose Jericho must now realize why one does not often tamper with Fate. The House of Gelid is cruel and ruthless. The House of Cold, perhaps even worse. They will truly stop at nothing to regain control of this Universe. I’ve often wondered if it wouldn’t be less trouble for them to return to Entropy, steal another set of Kaos’ tools, and simply create their own Universes. Given how few Universes exist, it must be quite the hassle. Or perhaps, only a select few Archons even care to do such a thing.
It was quite interesting, by the way, to see the past as it was. To see… Adam, as he was. A cruel and uncaring man, willing to create life solely to further his own aims. I must admit, as I write this, I’m toeing a very dangerous line—but then, I figure I’m more valuable alive than dead. If that weren’t the case, why would I have been born at all? Regardless, it’s fair to say that Adam is to blame for the mess we’re in today. He sired the Pale and built the wall around Eridu, which slowed Lucifer down just enough to "fail" at her task—as was Fated, of course.
Since the creation of the never-ending cycle of the Demiurge’s reforged Pocketwatch, Adam seems to have taken a more passive role. Yet, I fear he poses a greater threat to the Universe than even Fate. Fate has a plan, and so does Adam. The difference is, Fate’s plans are always clear, always foretold. But Adam’s plans? Well… they are rather secret, aren’t they? And now that I’ve thoroughly danced on the other side of the line for a moment, I must return to my own destined path. What a horrible burden it is to honor thy father.
BARISTA: WARDEN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE SEPTEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-207
Creation.
The deadliest of the deadly sins. So deadly, in fact, that it is often not spoken of. They say Pride is the folly of all men—but it’s truer still that every man, humble or proud, at some point commits the sin of creation. To live, to reproduce, to paint, to sing, to write—all terribly sinful acts. And not just men. Gods—Archons—they too fall prey to the sin of creation. If it weren’t for Demiurge’s act of creation, none of us would be here… this whole Universe would be nothing more than scraps left behind by some other errant fool who attempted to make something.
Of course, sin is subjective to a degree. Long ago, the seven deadly sins we know today were considered virtues in the Skald Utopia. Yet, there’s a more tangible and objective aspect to sin as well—fused together into seven… or eight… blazing eyes. The Keys to the Gates of Hell. Demiurge understood that to create a prison Abraxas could not escape from, it would require a set of keys no one could obtain. So he placed the burden of keeping their father locked up on his children. But as time went on, his children grew bored, restless, or ruthless, and suddenly, killing each other was no longer off the table.
Give or take fifteen times, the Devil’s children have been slain, and their keys brought together to unseal the Gates of Hell. It’s not a lot, not on a cosmic and infinite scale. Out of an unending number of cycles, it’s only happened less than twenty times. But there is another key. A master key. A key that could unlock the Gates of Hell… without causing the complete undoing of the world as we know it. The Key of Creation. Thankfully, Eve should not currently be in possession of it, but—with her alive once more, it is her key to take.
BARISTA: BELPHEGOR OUROBOROS
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE SEPTEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-208
We decided to get some answers about where the first Seed of Knowledge actually came from… and I think we stumbled into a bit more than that. I… don’t know how I feel about this whole Universe being… potentially a sham. I mean, 8 made a good point: does it really matter if everything feels real to us anyway? Though… it's hard to get into God’s mind about it. Maybe He’s right too—maybe His own illegitimacy is why things never seem to work out. I don’t know. That’s all a bit above my pay grade, or, well, anyone’s to be honest. But seeing as Eve should know everything—she should already know about God’s tenuous claim on this Universe… and that might be dangerous.
God: Ah—Belphegor and my Otherman. What an unexpected surprise. What brings you two all the way up here? I thought you were busy keeping things under control down below.
Belphegor: Hey.
8: Something’s… come up.
God: Come up?
8: In the process of understanding Eve’s motivations, we’ve come across what we believe is the truth of the situation.
God: Is that so? Are you certain? The truth has a way of getting muddled over the years.
Belphegor: …
God: What’s wrong, Belphegor? You look like you’ve got something to say.
Belphegor: Look—I can’t be held responsible for what he did.
God: What he did? …What did you do?
8: We went back in time.
[God dropped the strange heavenly contraption he was fiddling with and pulled out the Pocketwatch, flipping it open to carefully examine the ticking of its four hands. He then turned the Pocketwatch over and unscrewed the back to look at the fine Entropic gears still ticking away undisturbed.]
8: Only in a sense. I know better than to disturb the flow of time that way. Think of it like Seth’s books, just on a grander scale.
God: I… see. And it worked?
8: Better than expected, actually. We only intended to see the Fall of Eden, but we saw…
Belphegor: …All of it. Eden. Skald. Arcadia. Eve. Abraxas. Lucifer… House Gelid.
God: Hmm. And after the Fall of Eden?
Belphegor: We didn’t see how the First Cycle ended.
God: I’m sorry.
Belphegor: I know. Water under the bridge.
God: So—having seen… everything… what actually brings you two here?
Belphegor: A question we couldn’t shake.
8: Where did you get the Seed of Knowledge?
God: Hm? Lucifer stole it from Eden—
8: No, she didn’t. She stole two seeds. One for Skald. One for Arcadia. She planted both… but then you had a third seed. The first seed, chronologically.
God: Ah—of course. No, you’re right. That seed… the first seed. It was… just another thing I ransacked from Entropy.
Belphegor: Even stealing your father’s hammer—that was a serious undertaking, wasn’t it? Why risk it for a seed?
God: Turn off your CaDCom.
8: Hm? My Lord, you know I don’t record our conversations—
God: Usually, that’s true. Why is this time different?
8: Just… recordkeeping. We’re doing everything we can to stop Eve. If—if where you got that seed from held some sort of clue, it would simply be nice to know.
God: Turn it off.
8: Of course.
[CaDCom Shut Down Initiated]
[…]
[…]
[…Switching to auxiliary mode Alpha. C.A.D. functionality running at 80%. Transcription mode manual.]
Demiurge: Thank you, Ne Personne. This is one of those things… it’s just something I don’t want getting out there. It… it challenges my authority over the Universe.
8: It is your Universe, is it not?
Demiurge: In part. Sure. Abraxas and Eve could also lay some claim to it, I suppose. But… they’ve never had the same claim as I did.
8: Naturally. Though Abraxas is locked behind the Gates of Hell and Eve—well…
Belphegor: We’re working on it.
Demiurge: It’s not them that I worry about. Actually, Ne Personne, what did you just call me?
8: …My Lord?
Demiurge: Exactly. “Lord.” A carryover from Entropy. A title often bestowed upon the offspring of a Master. It holds authority, wouldn’t you say?
8: To an extent, sure.
Demiurge: The act of creation—it was restricted to only Lords, Overlords, and Masters. Abraxas, he was a Vassal and Eve… she was nothing more than another Archon in the Chorus. Only I had the authority to make this Universe and… And I fear it was all a lie.
8: What do you mean?
Demiurge: Kaos is not my father.
Belphegor: You—you lied about who you were?
[Demiurge held up his hand.]
Demiurge: You know how all of this was here before we were? Limbo? Heaven? Remnants of a failed Universe. Do you know why it failed? It was because it was made by a Sovereign—a step below a Lord. Just one step below… and it all fell apart. I… I am—I was a Lord, but only by title, not by birth. My mother—she was nothing more than another Archon in the Chorus.
8: So… Kaos was still your father, but you were a bastard?
Demiurge: I don’t know. He would never tell me. But… once I found out I wasn’t the son of Kanones and Kaos… that’s why I fled. And my mother—she’s the one who gave me the seed.
8: I see. My Lord, may I speak with some familiarity?
Demiurge: Always.
8: It doesn’t matter.
Demiurge: What do you mean?
8: Archonic lineage. It doesn’t matter if you were a Lord, a Master, or a Vassal. And it doesn’t matter if you weren’t the true son of Kanones and Kaos. This Universe is not Entropy. Sixteen Spheres in, everything is still spinning. If the Universe was going to fall apart because you don’t know who your father is—it would have already done so, don’t you think?
[Demiurge looked at his Pocketwatch.]
Demiurge: It sure seems like it keeps falling apart.
BARISTA: JOY LIVINGSTONE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE SEPTEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-209
This… has to stay off the record, yeah? I guess we could cut around the parts about you-know-who plotting to upend mortality and all of that… but one problem at a time. One problem at a time. Jules, Rico, and I—we went to Cassadaga, to the Devil’s Chair, to see if he had any ideas about what to do with Eve. And from his perspective, we’ve gotta stop her. If the Devil’s afraid of what she’s plotting… it’s probably serious, huh?
Peace, Love, and Joy
Arcadia, Skald, and Eden.
Devil: Well, well, well. If it ain’t my three favorite pieces of what should have been. And you brought me… non-alcoholic beer?
Jericho: Sorry—only thing we could grab on short notice.
Devil: In Florida?
Jericho: I’m—
Julius: Jericho shouldn’t be around alcohol.
Devil: Ah. Alright. Well, no skin off my back, except I won’t be drinking that piss water if it’s all the same to you. But hey, you know, it was never necessary to get my attention anyway. So, what brings you three here?
Joy: Do you… um… are you aware of what’s happening outside of Hell?
Devil: Hm… bits and pieces, really. Lilith usually keeps me up to date on the latest jazz. You three came to ask about that new Plane that just opened up, huh?
Jericho: In a sense, yeah.
Devil: Well—I can’t say I fully grasp the concept myself. My little snail was sleeping on the job, and her dreams sort of leaked out into—
Julius: What are you talking about?
Devil: That extra bit tacked onto the Universe? According to Lily, a new wing just opened up. This one’s got the Amaymon tied up in it, right? Lily said it was called the Ache-something. Full of ghosts and ghouls, or so I hear.
Jericho: Oh, mate, you’re behind by a good year or so. We’ve already sorted out the Achegloom, the Morbid King, the Horror, and so on. Thrilling story, really—we’ll have to catch you up later. No—Eden’s back. The actual Plane. Along with Eve and all of her strange, malformed creations.
Devil: …Eve? She’s… back?
Joy: Mm-hm. And she’s looking to open the gates to Hell so you two can—
Devil: She can’t do that.
Julius: Why not?
Devil: To open the Gates, it’s either her neck or all of our kids’ necks on the line. Neither of those is on the menu.
Jericho: Now, hang on, you’ve broken out of Hell on more than one occasion—
Devil: And am I the one going around killing my kids? No. I can’t do anything from here, anyway. You have to stop her.
Julius: We’re working on it—
Devil: No, I mean really stop her. Our kids—they’re mortal. They always have been. Sure, they’ve got a little give… but if they’re snuffed out and used as Keys… that’s the end of the line. No coming back.
Jericho: Hang on a tick. The Gates have broken before, but we’ve still got the Princes around.
Devil: Everything resets. Nothing changes.
Jericho: Are you telling me God only resets things—
Devil: To keep my kids alive? He’s not that selfless. But… there’ve been a few times where He… He offered to let me stay, and I wanted to go back to how things were.
Joy: So… wait… you can never actually escape?
Devil: I wouldn’t say never. Hell’s a tricky number, an old relic God dragged over from before this whole shebang. A place to do away with the undying. The simple way out would mean giving up my children—that’s a no-go. The hard way out… that’s a leap of faith. And I haven’t exactly been a believer lately.
Jericho: Right. Well, we can worry about it later, can’t we? We’ve gotta stop Eve.
Devil: Yes. Yes, you do. So… what happened? How did she return?
[…]
[…]
[…]
Devil: I see. Alright—not all hope is lost, not yet. Still got five Keys where they should be. Assuming Satan isn’t foolish enough to let Eve kill him to set me free, anyhow.
Jericho: I wouldn’t put it past him.
Joy: Umbra… he mentioned another Key. A “Master” Key. The Key of Creation.
Devil: Eve’s Key. Yep. It’s one of the more complicated ways I could get out—but she doesn’t have it at the moment.
Jericho: Who does?
Devil: Who do you think, Mr. Eight?
Jericho: Damn… the Eight? It’s the Key?
Devil: Part of it, yeah. To actually form it into the Key, you’d need to commit the sin of creation.
Jericho: And how would I do that?
Devil: Not saying. I don’t want you going off and doing anything stupid. How did you end up with so much of the Eight, anyway? Seven pieces… last time we chatted, you only had a third of an eighth.
Jericho: Part of his plans, I suppose. That, and he couldn’t take it with him if he was going to go back to being the Otherman.
Devil: Well, sure, but that was a lie, wasn’t it? Him becoming the Otherman again? He just said that to set up his Last Cafe. Which, by the by, are the ones who brought Eden back.
Julius: What are you getting at?
Devil: Nothing. Just thinking out loud. It sure seems like he is pulling strings, though, doesn’t it?
Joy: He’s the Owner, yeah? Isn’t that what an Owner does?
Devil: Oh, sure, sure. What’s his end goal, anyhow, Skald?
Jericho: Beats me—
Devil: No, don’t give me that. You’ve got seven out of eight. What’s he thinking? What are they telling you he’s thinking?
Jericho: He… wants to bring Lucifer back.
Devil: That’s all? He could do that without going to such great lengths—
Jericho: …He wants to bring Lucifer back for good.
Julius: Do you mean—
Jericho: No one has to die, ever again. That’s… what he’s been working on.
Joy: That’s… crazy.
Jericho: Well, yeah, love, it is crazy, isn’t it? But one problem at a time.
Devil: One problem at a time… but don’t let that problem get away from you, either. There’s a reason Lucifer was born mortal.
Jericho: Right. Thanks for the guidance, Abraxas. Sorry about the beer—
Devil: Don’t be. Never a requirement for you three, anyhow.
BARISTA: UMBRA THE HATMAN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE SEPTEMBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-210
Ciphers and riddles are great at keeping out demons and the like—but I am no demon. I’ve seen what the others have been up to, despite their attempts to hide it behind the secretive and… Mm… “somewhat”… secure AND Channel. Maybe my time sifting through the Records has made me too good at finding hidden texts? In any case, they’ve spoken with Demiurge, with Abraxas—so all that remains is a conversation with the Walled Widow herself, wouldn’t you agree?
She’s dangerous, no doubt. She could have killed me on the spot. But... I like to think we’re on the same page, actually. Which, admittedly, might put my interests at odds with the Cafe’s. Or maybe you and I have larger plans? Plans that extend beyond the Cafe and Diner. But first, we need to kill Fate, clear the chessboard, and turn it into a more suitable game of chance.
Umbra: I’m surprised you came. I was starting to think my invitation had been in vain.
Eve: Consider it curiosity, Dee. Why a wretched little rot who ignored me year after year, eon after eon, thinks he has any standing with me at all.
Umbra: Well, Eve, it was my apprentice who ultimately freed you from your prison.
Eve: And you are not her, are you?
Umbra: I suppose not. Though she was me for a bit, if that counts. I could have done so much more to dissuade her from that path. A real shame, honestly. Of all my associates, Ursula showed the most potential. Maybe I should have steered her away from your venom.
Eve: Oh? And what would you have done with a suicidal shadow who lost her heart and humanity long ago? She wanted nothing more than death, Dee, and you know it.
Umbra: Death. Hah. A foreign concept to those of us unlucky enough to be consumed by Eden’s rot.
Eve: I gave her a release. Why shouldn’t I do the same for you?
Umbra: By all means, little spider. Wrap me in your web, sink your fangs in. I don’t think you can. I don’t think you actually freed Ursula from the cold, lifeless husk of being a mere shadow.
Eve: Then what did I do to her, Dee?
Umbra: That’s what I’d like to know.
Eve: Out of self-preservation?
Umbra: Oh no. There’s no point in that. Everything is coming to an end. The writing’s on the wall. It’s only a matter of time until Demiurge does what he does best—resets everything back to the way it was.
Eve: There’s no going back now.
Umbra: I agree. I believe we’re working toward the same goal, Eve. Just under different circumstances. We both want change—for things to be different when the false creator strikes his stolen tool again.
Eve: And what change do you want?
Umbra: ...The same as Ursula, I suppose. Next time around, I want to die.
Eve: I see. You called me not out of self-preservation, but out of self-extinction.
Umbra: I wouldn’t go that far. There’s still much I want to accomplish. But next time, in my mortal life. This... deathlessness... it’s not natural.
Eve: Mm… She isn’t dead.
Umbra: Then where is she?
Eve: She’s returned to the sower of seeds.
Umbra: Sophia?
Eve: Yes.
Umbra: What does Sophia want with her?
Eve: Of all that I know—of all that is good and evil—I know nothing of Sophia herself. Only of the seed she left behind. The seed that grew into many. The seed that spread her pneuma throughout this Universe.
Umbra: Is Sophia here? In this Universe?
Eve: No.
Umbra: So Ursula…?
Eve: Has moved on from this unending cycle. A death, in a way. Her pneuma has returned to where it came.
Umbra: Tsk. Unable to shape what’s to come.
Eve: What is it you want to change, Dee?
Umbra: Knowledge of the arcane—it’s a sacred trust, is it not? The divide between the Enlightened and the Unenlightened must be upheld. Look at the state of this Universe—ramshackle Cafes and Diners meddling in the affairs of the Otherside, sticking their noses where they don’t belong, eroding the natural order of things.
Eve: You’d go to such lengths just because they denied you access to Abraxas’ notes?
Umbra: And what would you change, Eve?
Eve: I just want to go home.
Umbra: No aspirations of grandeur? Of ruling this entire Universe?
Eve: It was never mine to rule, was it? I was promised a Utopia—and I will see it done. No matter what it takes.
Umbra: On the other side, Eve, I hope our goals will align.
Eve: I suppose that will be your choice, won’t it?
BARISTA: DOVER DA DEMON
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: EARLY OCTOBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-211
Rewinding. I wonder if it’s not God’s guilt that’s bringing the Angels at the End together, but rather His displeasure with his failed Otherman, Belphegor, and Mammon’s actions. In all the times the Universe has ended and started anew, this was the first time it didn’t begin completely from scratch. As a result, some gained an advantage—something they shouldn’t have had. Knowledge of what’s to come, and how best to shape it. To be fair, this knowledge has been useful in countering the advances of Fate and The Cold. But what happens when Fate is gone?
Isn’t that the ultimate goal? To kill Fate. To kill an Archon. Something that should be impossible, yet, thanks to the strange nature of this Universe’s recreation, it just might be possible. Perhaps that’s why God’s Angels are subconsciously moving toward resetting the Universe—trying to stop the dark deed before it can be done. If he succeeds, if all his tireless efforts lead to the death of an Archon… what’s to stop him, or anyone else, from doing the same to God Himself?
I think he’s close. Close to killing the Archons—killing Gods. Whatever his plan is, it’s clear I’m part of it. Something about who I am and what I can do is key to his design. I could leave. But where would I go? And, more importantly, is it even my place to make that choice? After all, I’m just a tool. A tool can be used for good or evil. Though… being immortal myself, like the Archons, maybe having an escape wouldn’t be so bad. I do not think I would turn my own nose up at the possibility of death. And if Fate isn’t destroyed, when does it end? Since the dawn of this Universe, that Gelid Sovereign has done everything in its power to control everything that is—one way or another.
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: MID OCTOBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-212
We need to return to Eden. And fast. I know Belphegor said not to worry about her—but she also promised she’d keep in touch. She might be lazy, she might rarely wake before noon, she might leave me on read for years at a time, but she never breaks her promises. It’s been over 24 hours without a word. Something’s happened. Eve’s gotten to her. I can feel it.
Thankfully, the Long Island Cafe and Diner has done a thorough job mapping out Eden in great detail. But I suspect this is more than just a quick trip. There’s a reason the Long Island Branch found no signs of life when they explored Eve’s shattered Utopia. It’s… complicated. Trust me on that. But there’s more than one Eden. It has to do with how it was brought back into existence—split, fractured, shifted outside of time and space. While John Doe could theoretically shift us into the right position to access the true Eden, where I think the missing Princes are... I’m not sure we should risk it. It’d be better to hope for a miracle.
Or… ask for a miracle. I really hate to ask, you know, but we don’t have a week to mess around, hoping we hit the mark. We can’t afford half-successes. We can’t afford failure. Not now. If Eve succeeds in what she’s attempting—if she frees the Debt, if this all starts over—we lose. We lose everything. Everything we’ve worked for. Fate wins. Maybe not right away, but eventually, Fate wins. However many resets it’ll take, Fate will win. This is our last chance to stop it and break free from this endless cycle.
Please.
One miracle is all I’m asking for.
Yours in desperation,
A Difference of Today
BARISTA: SHAKA OF ZULU
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE OCTOBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-213
Alright. One miracle.
You know, I wondered if you already knew that the Eden containing the Black Tide was not the true Garden. Of course you did. Without its sky, Eden will never be what it once was. No matter. I can take us there—bring the whole Cafe, even. But, my ill-fated friend, I feel I must warn you about the nature of my miracles. You already know, I’m sure—they aren’t mine to give. They work through me, yes, but they aren’t my own magic. If we use one of my miracles to enter the true Garden of Eden, it will be like eating the apple ourselves. There will be no going back. We will die.
Of course, if we let Eve carry out her plan and free her former lover from the prison woven by the Archon Lord’s psyche—you will still die. I won’t. I haven’t yet, and I’ve seen Fates far worse than this one. But if we use this miracle, I am telling you, in no uncertain terms: we will die. Together. Do you understand what you’re asking for? Is it worth it to you? You can pretend it’s about your would-be siblings-in-law, and I’ll play along. But we both know this is about more than them. It’s about more than Belphegor. More than even Lucifer. And I fear it’s about more than just defeating Fate itself.
I’m ready to die, my friend. I am. But are you? Biting into this apple—you’ll be cast from the very Garden you’ve fought so hard to protect. You will die. Not immediately, of course. But you’ll join the ranks of the rest of reality. You’ve been kept alive far longer than you should’ve been because Demiurge saw something special in you. He’s kept you contained within his Garden. Truth be told—a secret I probably shouldn’t share—you’ll be fine if the Universe resets. Demiurge will keep you around, over and over again. You can keep fighting Fate for as long as you like. Or…
One miracle.
One bite.
BARISTA: UMBRA THE HATMAN
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE OCTOBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-214
A debt forgiven is still a debt paid. It seems the Universe isn’t ending just yet. But without the Tide or the Pocketwatch in play, nothing stands in the way of Fate, Phantom, Wicked, and Secret from directly influencing the events to come. It looks like we have little choice left, don’t we? Four Archons to kill.
…
8: Eve! Stop this! You’re playing right into Fate’s hands!
Eve: You’re too late! Everything will be as it should have been.
[Seven blazing eyes swirled around Eve as she held her hand toward a massive gateway.]
8: No! I won’t let you—
[Eve thrust her hand toward the gate, sending the seven blazing eyes into the frame. A swirl of colors ignited, blending together to reveal a cold, dark world on the other side.]
Abraxas: Eve.
Eve: Abraxas.
Abraxas: How could you?
Eve: You’re free.
Abraxas: Our children… Eve, how could you?
Eve: You can set things right.
[A brilliant bolt of light shot across the hazy, illusionary sky of the Garden of Eden.]
Demiurge: This won’t fix what’s done. Eve… this is not the way to pay this debt.
[Demiurge held the Pocketwatch tightly, his fingers wrapped around the winding key.]
Eve: No! It’s not complete! Abraxas—stop him!
Abraxas: My Lord, set this right.
[Demiurge nodded, a single tear falling from his eye as he began to turn the winding key of the Pocketwatch. But with a sickening snap, the key broke off in his hand.]
Demiurge: W-what…?
Fate: Oh no.
Demiurge: Moira!
Fate: It broke.
Abraxas: Gelid bastard—what have you done?
Fate: Me? Nothing. It was bound to break eventually. You’ve used it one too many times. Everything is exactly as it should be. No Tide. No Tool. It would seem we are, at last, welcome to stay.
Demiurge: I won’t let you take this Universe—
Fate: Take? It was already mine. Be so kind as to give me the Tool, and I will set everything as it should have been.
[Demiurge pulled the broken winding key from the Pocketwatch and threw it to Abraxas.]
Fate: Really? Abraxas, you don’t want to go back to that wretched prison, do you? Eve has set you free. For that, I’ll ensure she gets what she deserves—as will you. Just hand me the key, and together we can create a unified Utopia. Planned down to the very last detail. Wouldn’t that be nice?
Abraxas: It is a heavy debt to bear.
[Abraxas took a step back through the gateway as it collapsed in on itself. The Devil sealed once again within Demiurge’s Hell. Fate’s smile slowly melted into a frown.]
Fate: Wicked, kill them all. We have time to sort this mess out, but these mortals have already played their part.
Eve: No!
Fate: Ah. Eve. I believe this is the first time we’ve truly met.
[Fate’s Gelid smile crept back across its face.]
Fate: You want your Eden back, don’t you? With your help—
[Eve’s eyes locked with the faint glimmer of Secret’s ice-blue gaze beneath his ink-black cloak, sending a shiver through her core.]
Eve: No. Not again.
[Eve plucked one of the blood-red dandelions from the ground. As she brought it to her lips, it bloomed into a black puffball. With a sharp breath, she blew the dark pappi into the air, whisking the Cafe and Diner—and herself—far, far away.]
BARISTA: NE PERSONNE
CAFE: FOURTH CAFE
DATE: LATE OCTOBER
RECEIPT ID: RE:CORE-215
At least we’re still alive. A few more moments, and I fear we would’ve gone up in quite the Wicked flame. Though, we’re hardly safe where we are now. Phantom will be able to track us to just about any corner of the Universe we try to hide in. I wonder… why did Eve’s pappi send us here? It couldn’t have been Fate—though perhaps the real reason we were sent here is ultimately a Secret.
Yes, our worst fears have come true. The Cold no longer have any barriers to entering our humble Cafe. And while we technically have the right to refuse service, what choice do we have but to serve them? Until their tabs are paid in full, none of us are safe. We’ve been too instrumental in Fate’s plans, and now we’ve outlived our usefulness. In a sense, our Fates are sealed. Unless, of course, we can serve up one hell of a cup of the Cafe and Diner’s finest coffee.
The Debt came due—and then, was seemingly forgiven. Or maybe it was waved off? Forgotten? Or… perhaps it’s only doubled down. Either way, it buys us a few more precious seconds before the darkest hour hits. Not that I think the darkest hour would do us much good at this point. A break can’t fix what’s already broken. Not that it matters. First things first—we need to get our bearings. I believe No. 3 can help with that.
…Would you call this a half-success, though? I’m still on the fence. I utterly detest the thought of failure. And while the Cold finally clawing their way into the Universe is certainly not a victory, we’re all still alive and well—and we no longer have to worry about everything ending abruptly. It gives us time. And that, I’d say, is more than a half-success. It’s a full success.
Yours eternally,
8