After their first encounter at former Mayor Howard's Riverside Manor, Lynch saw this strange and terrifying creature once again.
Just as the Yithians had described, aside from having a body shape and limbs vaguely resembling a beast, this thing had nothing whatsoever to do with an actual hound.
Compared to the one at Riverside Manor, the hound before his eyes lacked that ethereal, hazy quality and appeared much more solid, allowing Lynch to see its true appearance far more clearly.
It made him wish he couldn't see it clearly at all.
The hound was grotesquely shaped and utterly hideous. Its long, thin, twisted body and limbs, its snake-like flickering long tongue, and the shimmering blue mucus oozing over its skin were revolting in every way.
Having gradually learned how dangerous these hounds were, Lynch didn't dare ignore its presence. Watched by two eyes glowing with a sinister red light, he felt a chill down to his bones. His muscles grew taut, and his grip tightened around his cane, though he averted his gaze to avoid eye contact.
The hound took a step forward, flicking its long tongue once more. Blue mucus dripped from its tongue like drool before vaporizing into mist and merging into the surrounding blue light.
One step, then another.
Lynch's heart beat faster and faster, his grip on the cane growing tighter. Yet before he could make a move, flashes of blue light burst around him, one after another.
Hound after hound materialized from the pillar of light, their numbers swelling rapidly until a massive pack assembled.
They were beyond counting.
These hideous monsters seemed to lack physical form, overlapping and piling atop one another until they resembled a giant, glowing blue mass. It was impossible to tell how many there were—perhaps only a few, perhaps thousands.
“Numbers carry no meaning for the hounds.” “Hounds always appear in packs.” “The River of Time is overrun with hounds.”
In that instant, Lynch finally understood the true weight of those statements and the true horror of the River of Time. Unfortunately, the swarm of hounds was already lunging at him.
The monsters surged forward, swarming directly toward his position. Lynch tried dodging at first, but quickly realized that evasion was meaningless in the face of such overwhelming numbers. He could only watch as the hounds pounced on him, and then... passed right through his body.
As if piercing through a phantom, the hounds passed straight through him. Lynch felt no physical impact, only a gust of cold air brushing past his skin. The massive pack seemed completely unaware of his presence, bounding right past his body to leap into the air.
Holy shit, that scared the hell out of me.
Lynch's heart was pounding like a galloping horse, his throat bone-dry. Turning around, he realized the hounds were not targeting him, but rather the specks of blue light drifting down from above.
Like fine snow, the specks of light varied in size and brightness, originating from nowhere and drifting off into nothingness in an apparently endless, infinite stream.
The hounds were targeting the larger specks. Extending their long, hollow tongues, they sucked the specks into their mouths. A faint glow shone through the flesh of their tongues before a brief squirm swallowed the light completely into their bodies, whereupon they pounced on the next cluster.
???
Though the scene was dangerous and bizarre, Lynch felt a peculiar sense of wonder—much like chancing upon a pack of hunting wolves on the savanna. Though he could be caught in the crossfire at any moment, curiosity filled his mind as he watched the hounds leap and scramble continuously after one another in shock.
“Stop staring and leave as quickly as possible.”
The Yithian's emotionless voice resonated in Lynch's consciousness:
“You are currently protected by the information communicator, so the hounds cannot perceive you. However, staying near them for too long still risks exposure. After all, I doubt you wish to be overwhelmed by a horde of this size.”
Tsk, is this Yithian stuff reliable or not?
Lynch shuddered. Without asking further questions, he immediately took off running...
“Wait, which way do I go?”
“Forward.”
“Everything looks identical here, which direction is forward?”
“It doesn't matter. Choose whichever direction you like.”
???
Lynch glanced at the growing swarm of hounds, picked a direction leading away from them, and turned to leave.
“Take note: this is the direction guided by your Silver Key.”
“Huh?”
Lynch paused in his tracks. Remembering the almost joke-like test Archbishop Trinlais had performed for him before he crossed over, a vague realization dawned on him.
“Indeed. In the realm of mystery, intuition is paramount. Regardless of your reason for choosing this direction, it is the result of the Silver Key's guidance. The Silver Key influences your instincts, making you naturally inclined toward the Gate of the Silver Key while your mind invents various justifications to act upon it. This is precisely why Ms. Skye did not tell you beforehand how the Silver Key guides you—relying purely on your personal perception, it is difficult to explain with words.”
“So as long as I keep walking in this direction, I can find the Gate of the Silver Key?”
“In the River of Time, the word ‘direction’ does not exist. There is only the past, the present, and the future. The space you perceive is merely a delusion manifested through the pollution of your own comprehension; it is not reality. Furthermore, the so-called ‘direction’ of the Gate of the Silver Key shifts constantly. It is not something you can reach simply by walking toward one side.”
“So...” Lynch caught on instantly. “As long as I follow my gut and go wherever I feel like, I can reach the Gate of the Silver Key?”
“Yes. In the world of mystery, guidance from within is the most critical information.”
“Alright, thanks for the guidance then.” Lynch had already quickened his pace to get far away from the hounds. Glancing back at those bizarre entities chasing the specks of blue light, he finally breathed a sigh of relief. “They look like they're hunting. What are those specks of light?”
“Time Dust—residue bred within the torrent of time, and the true food of the hounds. Pursuing those who desecrate time is merely their post-meal entertainment. Be extremely cautious if you encounter them. Never harbor any intent to attack them; once a connection is established, even the information communicator will no longer hide you.”
“Alright, got it.” Lynch then added with a sudden delayed realization, “The communicator is already active? Are you contacting me through it right now?”
“It became active before you fell into the River of Time. However, I am not contacting you through the communicator. That device is rather unique; I cannot contact you, who exists in the ‘present,’ from the time node of the ‘present.’ I entered alongside you in the form of brainwaves.”
Hiss...
“There is no need to be nervous. The brainwaves attached to you are minuscule; taking over your body is impossible. Furthermore, there are quite a few strange things inside your body that I do not understand and have no desire to touch. I came in with you solely to help you find the Lord of Tindalos and ensure you do not get lost in the torrent of time.”
“By the way, if I head directly for the Gate of the Silver Key, can I still ensure I find where the Lord of Tindalos is? If the Gate of the Silver Key keeps changing position—or whatever term applies—what about the doghouse?”
“The Corner of Time is a very special concept that has meaning only within the River of Time. In truth, it exists at any point along the River of Time, from beginning to end. Thus, no matter where you walk, you will eventually have an opportunity to enter the Corner of Time—it merely depends on whether you can realize it.”
“Huh? Does it have any identifying features?”
“Pay attention beneath your feet. Do not use your eyes; perceive it with your consciousness.”
Lynch subconsciously looked down, sensing with his entire mind and body, after which an endless wave of shock welled up inside his mind.
Rate on N.U.
