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Epilogue – Part 01

—ghost machine 5—

December 11, 1914, Beelzebub’s Skull.

The day after the Crashing of the Virgin Mary incident, which left an ominous mark on history, the sky was ironically clear and blue.

A young man, tall and slim, with green eyes and a mane of crimson hair, was standing at the entrance of the monastery with his luggage. He squinted at the morning sun reflected on the surface of the sea.

At his feet was a lone small baggage. He had left the magic lantern behind in the monastery. Jupiter Roget emerged from the building a moment later, and upon seeing Brian Roscoe, gave a nod.

“Splendid work,” the middle-aged man said. “What you did last night will go down in the Academy of Science’s history.”

“I see,” Brian replied briefly and looked away.

“I had no idea that the old nurse was a twin and a spy for the Ministry of the Occult. She worked hard for someone her age. I thought she was a perfectly fine character.”

“I agree.” Brian smiled thinly. “No one would assume an old woman to be a spy. We young people think that history is always made by the young.”

“Right.”

“And as time passes, they realize. Nothing has changed. Everything just repeats itself.”

“Quite the cynic, are we?”

“Gray Wolves are cynical creatures. You’re done checking my stuff, right? I’m leaving.”

Jupiter jerked, and he gave a small smile. “So you knew.”

“The Academy of Science is looking for the box that I was supposed to have brought back from the Nameless Village. If I had brought it to the monastery, you would have deduced that I would take it with me when I left. There’s no way you wouldn’t inspect my things before I left.”

“In that case, I hope you don’t mind a quick pat down.”

At Jupiter’s signal, a group of young employees from the Academy of Science stepped forward and passed their hands over Brian’s clothes. Once they had confirmed that he was not concealing anything, they retreated away.

“Can I go now?” Brian said.

A train was slowly rolling to the station, a single platform in the distance. The steam whistle blew.

Brian started walking.

The locomotive drew nearer, billowing black smoke into the morning sky. Brian sauntered away from the stone monastery shaped like a giant fly’s head.

“Hmph. Saw that coming from a mile away,” Brian whispered to himself.

The dry, sandy beach was littered with the wreckage of German fighter planes, burnt, jet-black debris strewn eerily like huge animal bones. Brian glanced at them with a cold, emotionless gaze.

“I doubt I can retrieve the memento box anytime soon,” Brian muttered. “Guess it’s staying hidden in the room with the scarlet door for now. I’ll get it back once the war is over. They might suspect something then, but I’m sure I can handle it.”

“Brian,” Jupiter Roget called. “You have a significant role to play in this war. The day will come when your skills will be needed once more. I will contact you then.”

Brian looked over his shoulder and nodded.

The train stopped at the platform, spewing black smoke. Beelzebub’s Skull was the last stop of the Old Masquerade’s long journey. After arriving, the train would depart once more, running along the endless rail, carrying the thoughts of all sorts of people. Even during wartime, it kept on running.

Brian jumped onto the ramp.

The conductor slowly closed the train’s steel doors.

Carrying only one passenger, Brian Roscoe, the Old Masquerade started its morning journey.

---

Epilogue: Bonds

The Old Masquerade was crowded. Guests who had managed to board the train stared vacantly at the purple water that consumed the ground as if it had a will of its own.

Amidst all the chaos, Kazuya and Victorique found a second-class compartment, furnished only with two small hard beds and a simple table. Victorique sat down on the bed.

An endless purple sea stretched outside. Heavy rain battered on the windows. The steam whistle rang high as the train rocked. The corridor was clamorous with the pattering of footsteps, angry roars, voices searching for others.

“So what on earth happened there?” Kazuya muttered to no one in particular.

“Would you like me to verbalize it?” asked Victorique, staring melancholically out the window.

“Yeah. Wait, you know what happened back there?”

“Of course.” Her voice sounded somewhat despondent.

Kazuya studied her face with concern. Victorique slapped his face like she was swatting an annoying fly.

“Ow! What was that for? I’m just worried, since you look down in the dumps. You’re such a—”

“This case involves the past, Kujou.”

“The past?” Kazuya stared at Victorique’s face.

He could not read her expression. It seemed like a mixture of quiet boredom, despair, and resignation, a mismatch for her lovely, doll-like features.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“The monastery—Beelzebub’s Skull—was used as a fortress by Sauville’s Academy of Science ten years ago, around the time of the Great War. The head of the Academy of Science, a man named Jupiter Roget, was the arch-enemy of my father, Albert de Blois, who led the Ministry of the Occult. Unlike my father, who came from an aristocratic background and believed in the ancient powers, Jupiter Roget was a commoner, a man who believed in a new force, that is, science. The conflict between the Academy of Science and the Ministry of the Occult can be seen as a conflict between aristocrats who believe in the ancient powers and commoners who wish to climb the ranks using a new power.”

“Hmm…”

“There was one man who was said to have had strong ties to Jupiter Roget. His name was Brian Roscoe, the Gray Wolf magician. The blood of the old powers run in his veins, yet for some reason he cooperated with a man espousing the new power. Brian was also said to be working with the person Marquis de Blois was searching for, Cordelia, my mother. I believe she was using her small figure to assist Bryan in his magic tricks, while also hiding herself from her pursuers. Like how she was hiding in the Mechanical Turk.”

“What? You mean the Mechanical Turk?”

“You mentioned that the Mechanical Turk hit you on the train, and that you opened the box but found nothing inside. This is probably how it works.” Victorique drew a diagram on the fogged-up window with her small fingers. “When you opened the door on the left side, you saw a bunch of mechanisms, which I’m guessing were movable. At that point, Cordelia was hiding on the right side (3). And when you opened the door on the right side, she moved the mechanism there and hid on the left side (2). When operating the puppet, she inserts her upper body inside it. Hiding herself this way also allowed her to enter any place as luggage. Even in the enemy’s stronghold, Beelzebub’s Skull. You could say that the Mechanical Turk is a small, funny-looking version of the Trojan Horse. And when she left, she took advantage of the fact that I, her daughter who looked exactly like her, was in the same building, and pretended to be me, taking the memento box with her.”

“So that’s how she did it,” Kazuya said, impressed.

“Now as for her partner, the other Gray Wolf, Brian Roscoe. He was working as a spy for the Academy of Science during the war.” Victorique smiled thinly. “Ah, but the irony. After the war, the Academy of Science relinquished control of the monastery, and the Ministry of the Occult started using it. As a monastery, on paper. However, the mysterious soirees held on nights of full moon, the Night of Phantasmagoria, are also events the Ministry of the Occult organizes to show off the old powers. They performed magic tricks and insisted they were genuine sorcery.”

The train rattled along.

“First, I will verbalize the various magic tricks that were performed at the soirée. The beautiful lady floating in the air had a pulley machine hidden behind her. Catching bullets with one’s teeth is even simpler. The woman used a fake bullet made of an alloy of tin and mercury. It’s indistinguishable from a real bullet at a glance, and it can be shattered with a mere poke. She handed a gun to a guest, and when they fired it, the fake bullet shattered into pieces. Then, she simply bites a bullet she’d been hiding inside her mouth and shows it to the guests. Silly tricks, really.”

“I see…”

“Tonight, two men attended the fraudulent soiree. One was a government official, Simon Hunt, and the other was Iago, a friar from the Vatican.”

“Both were killed.”

“Yes. Let’s start with Simon Hunt, the first victim. You said he was skeptical about supernatural magic and the old powers. When he fixed your clock, he told you that it was his job to see through illusions disguised as sorcery. And he was a government official. These fragments of chaos finally allowed me to reconstruct a tiny fact. I believe Simon Hunt was a member of the Academy of Science.”

“Really?”

Victorique nodded. “Most likely. To the phony magicians of today who claim that their tricks and illusions are legitimate sorcery, the Academy of Science is an enemy. They want the country to flourish through science and eradicate spiritual culture. Now the question is, why did he come to Beelzebub’s Skull, hiding his identity? What’s more, he came on the Night of Phantasmagoria, which is held only once a month. It can’t be a coincidence. Did he have some sort of mission? If he did, what was it about? What business does the Academy of Science have in Beelzebub’s Skull?”

“…”

“I have not yet solved this mystery. Perhaps what he said about searching for a memento box and my mother’s words ‘One of the Academy of Science’s greatest secrets lie hidden in this box’ are fragments that will solve the mystery. Now the question is: what is this memento box?”

Victorique clenched her small fists and swung them around in frustration.

The clouds parted a little, and the reflection of the full moon, pale and sinister, undulated with the waves.

“Anyway, Simon Hunt was a spy from the Academy of Science sent to infiltrate the Ministry of the Occult’s fortress. After finding the memento box, he rigged the sluice gate to open right as the train arrived, probably with the intention of escaping safely. But his cover was blown and he was killed by the Ministry’s assassins, the Fell sisters.”

“But how did they do it? Morella’s and Simon’s hands were tied, and no one else was inside the cabinet.”

Victorique frowned. Suddenly, the door to their compartment opened and someone tried to enter. Kazuya looked up and saw two familiar women standing there—a girl with dark hair and blue eyes, and a middle-aged woman. He had exchanged a few words with them on the way to Beelzebub’s Skull, and they also helped them board the train when they left. The two women looked surprised.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there were people inside.”

“I was looking for an empty compartment. I wanted to sit down.”

Kazuya stood up and politely offered the bed he was sitting on. “You can take my seat.”

“I can’t possibly…”

The women exchanged looks.

“Perfect timing,” Victorique said.