Something has happened in the real world!
A seer’s intuition were in more ways than one, a passive act of divination. To Ulrich, who had slowly gained mastery over divination, his mere existence attracts a certain degree of information, and this information would be used to feed his intuition, thus forming some kind of auto divination.
Snapping his mind back to the dream sea, Ulrich conjured the bronze hairpin and used it to return to the real world. To his sparse, cold room filled with that familiar fresh paint and minty aroma.
He quickly got dressed and left his home, intending to head toward the Sanctuary. That was the plan, at least. However, Ulrich froze as he looked down at his feet. A letter, specifically a telegram with that star symbol stamped on the corner. Only one such organization he knew used this kind of stamp, and it couldn't be faked.
An emergency? He thought, reaching down and opening the letter with his fingertip.
Lewis Smith has been spotted on 59th Euston Street. Proceed with caution.
The Bishop of the Twilight Order, which had fled into hiding from that incident in Portsmouth? Why would this bishop show up now? Ulrich almost turned around and entered his home to perform a dream divination, but recalling his last experience, he shook his head.
The smart decision would be to proceed directly to the Sanctuary, debrief with Captain Ottis and Rosaline before taking any action. But Ulrich's feet carried him in a different direction.
55th Euston Street. Selena's townhouse.
The decision felt strange even as he made it, driven by impulse rather than logic. He hadn't visited her properly in days, so consumed by investigations and supernatural incidents that their last conversation felt distant. And after the revelation about the Silver Bough, after witnessing his own future self's action, his mental state felt precarious.
A light conversation might help, something normal to anchor his thoughts before dealing with whatever future crisis would come, and it come. The rationalization felt thin even to himself. But Ulrich knocked on Selena's door anyway, waiting in the morning fog while his danger sense remained oddly quiet.
Selena answered quickly, her expression brightening immediately upon seeing him. "Ulrich! I wasn't expecting you this early."
"I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd stop by before work."
"Come in, please." She stepped aside, and Ulrich entered the familiar warmth of her sitting room. Everything appeared exactly as it always did: the comfortable furniture, the neat stacks of books, the flower arrangements in careful vases.
Selena moved toward the kitchen with practiced ease. "Tea?"
"Yes, thank you."
They settled into their usual positions, Selena in her chair by the window, Ulrich across from her. The morning light filtered through the curtains with a gentle warmth, and the domesticity of the moment felt almost surreal given everything happening in Belham's shadows.
"The city feels different lately," Selena said, her brown eyes thoughtful. "Like everyone's waiting for something to happen, but no one wants to speak of it directly."
"The calm before the storm," Ulrich agreed.
"Exactly." She sipped her tea carefully. "My family's social circles have been buzzing with anxious pacing. People making contingency plans, moving assets, and arranging travel that they claim is for leisure but feels more like preparation for evacuation."
"Do they know something specific?"
"Nothing concrete. Just that sense of danger that perceptive people develop when circumstances shift in dangerous directions." Selena's gaze met his directly. "You feel it too, don't you? That tension building toward something catastrophic?"
Ulrich nodded, unable to articulate just how accurate her assessment was. The Twilight Order and One Eye Covenant coordinating a divine descent. And now, Lewis Smith's direct appearance. That man, since their first meeting, had been full of schemes. Even a seer such as himself could not grasp the extent of this Bishop's plan, not even close.
All of it was building toward conclusions that Ma'am Felanor had witnessed six hundred years in the future. Of a history which Ulrich had no access to, nor a hint of. And that frustrated him.
But he couldn't share these details with Selena. It was work, and his own responsibility to bear. No one in this world but himself could bear this burden of the future, and the truth would no doubt be catastrophic.
"Things are complicated," he said finally. "The Ministry is working to address various threats, but the scope keeps expanding faster than we can respond."
Selena studied him with that particular perception she possessed, seeing past his careful words to the exhaustion beneath. "You look tired, Ulrich. More than usual. When did you last sleep properly?"
"Sleep has been... irregular lately."
"That's not an answer."
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He smiled despite himself. "No, I suppose it isn't."
They continued talking, the conversation drifting through safer topics. Books Selena had been reading, observations about seasonal changes in the fog sea's behavior, and small domestic concerns that felt precious in their mundanity. And gradually, Ulrich felt his mental state stabilizing.
The spiral of thoughts about temporal paradox and future selves slowed to a manageable degree, compartmentalized into some deep corner of his mind. His breathing came easier, tension in his shoulders releasing gradually. Just being in Selena's presence, listening to her warm voice discuss ordinary matters, provided an anchor that felt sturdy.
Perhaps this was why he'd come.
Finally, Ulrich set his empty teacup aside and stood. "I should go. Work calls, as always."
"Of course." Selena rose as well, walking him toward the door. "Take care of yourself, Ulrich. Whatever you're dealing with, don't let it consume you completely."
"I'll try."
He reached for the doorknob, hand closing around familiar metal.
Then he saw the bunny plushie.
It sat on the wooden cabinet near the entrance, positioned where it definitely hadn't been when he'd arrived. The toy's button eyes fixed on him with that awareness that marked the entity's presence, and its placement felt deliberately conspicuous.
again.
Just like at Slough House when it had alerted him to Donnie's possession, the plushie was trying to communicate danger through an ambiguous placement or gesture.
Ulrich's danger sense finally activated, buzzing with warnings he hadn't noticed until now. His hand released the doorknob and moved automatically toward his coat, fingers brushing the concealed weapons while his other hand activated Shadow Vision.
He looked at Selena and saw the horror beyond human comprehension.
Her physical appearance remained unchanged: the honey-colored hair, gentle features, warm brown eyes that had always reminded him of sunrise breaking through storm clouds. But overlaying that familiar image was something else entirely.
A mental projection of an impossible scale, existing in dimensions his human consciousness could barely perceive. Endless darkness that extended beyond normal spatial boundaries. Corpses floating in a void, their decomposition arrested in states between death and something worse. A sort of degeneration on an infinite scale, reality itself decaying into formless chaos.
And towering above it all, a figure that held stars in hands too vast to measure. A presence that existed more as a concept than an entity, embodying twilight in its most fundamental sense, the transition between light and darkness, the moment of change that could lead toward either dawn or endless night
The Primordial Twilight. The Drowned God that the Twilight Order worshipped and sought to pull into reality from the Depths.
And it was Selena. Perhaps, this entire time.
The realization came with sharp, stabbing pain. Ulrich's eyes burned, his vision shattered as the exposure to the divine projection triggered a response his human body couldn't handle. Even in this moment, he could feel his own mutation breaking down on the cellular level!
He acted on pure instinct.
Shadow Step activated, pulling him through darkness toward the nearest window. His body materialized near the glass, one hand already retrieving the red signal flare while the other grabbed the silver whistle hanging from his neck.
The flare launched through the window with a piercing whistle, exploding in crimson light above Belham's fog.
Simultaneously, Ulrich blew the whistle with desperate force, activating the connection to Rosaline through an informal ritual. The sound didn't travel physically but was transmitted directly through mystical channels, carrying his location and spiritual imprint. The moment he blew on the whistle, Ulrich's skin began melting, like wax being burned in proximity to fire.
Then he felt it. Spirituality stirring in the air with a familiar imprint. Followed by a shadow growing on the floor, expanding with unnatural speed until it covered half the sitting room. And from that darkness, a figure stepped forward with confident grace.
The Bishop of the Twilight Order appeared exactly as Ulrich remembered from the dream scrying. Middle-aged, brown hair graying at temples, well-dressed despite circumstances. But now Ulrich could perceive the spiritual pressure surrounding him. He didn't hide his exalted, Rank 4 status in the slightest.
"Watchman Constantine," Lewis said pleasantly. "I wondered how long it would take you to notice. I see that we are well acquainted."
Ulrich's mind raced with countless thoughts:
Selena possessed a mental projection of the Primordial Twilight. And Lewis Smith had appeared in response to Ulrich's distress signals or perhaps had been here all along, concealed somehow. The Bishop's sighting on Euston Street had been a deliberate bait, or perhaps it was a genuine mistake on the former's part. Either way, Ulrich could not make head or tail of the intention of this formidable foe.
He needed something, some kind of upper hand in this encounter. And that came to his mind.
Ulrich manifested a Dark Arrow in spear form and used it not as a weapon but as a tool, striking the bunny plushie with careful force to send it flying toward his position. The toy arced through the air, and Ulrich caught it one-handed while maintaining his enhanced perception.
But the entity inside remained dormant. Just soft fabric and button eyes staring at him with what might have been sympathy.
Ulrich looked at Selena, his vision still blinded by exposure to the divine projection. She stood near the center of the room, her expression sorrowful but calm. And beside her, close enough to suggest familiarity, Lewis Smith maintained his pleasant demeanor.
They looked like associates. Perhaps even allies.
"What's your relationship?" Ulrich forced the question through gritted teeth, fighting against the mutation breaking down his exterior flesh. "What during your kidnapping?"
He assumed Lewis controlled her. That the Bishop had used the kidnapping to implant a divine projection, turning Selena into an unwitting vessel for the Primordial Twilight. That she was a victim rather than a participant in whatever horror was unfolding.
Then Lewis Smith lowered his head and knelt.
Not just merely a simple showing of respect, but one of full reverence. One knee touching the floor, head bent forward until his gaze was fixed on the ground rather than the person before him. The posture of absolute submission, not even a peasant may show such reverence toward their kings.
Lewis Smith, Rank 4 Weaver and Bishop of the Twilight Order, was treating Selena Morris like the most noble existence in the room.
And Ulrich's mind shattered.
The question emerged as barely a whisper, his voice breaking under the weight of a startling revelation.
Selena's expression shifted, carrying genuine regret mixed with resignation. When she spoke, her voice held the same warmth it always had, unchanged despite everything.
"I am Selena Morris. That has never changed." She paused, and something ancient flickered behind her brown eyes. "It's just... I have found some truth in my dreams, and this... was inevitable. I'm sorry."