Charles paused, halting his own train of thought. He looked up at Edward and asked in a grave tone, "This Neuro-Melder power…is there anything else I should know about it?"
Edward's calm gaze revealed that he already had an inkling of what Charles was thinking. He answered plainly, "That power directly influences anything arising from the brain—thoughts, memories, emotions."
He pointed to his temple. "The higher your rank, the stronger your impact on someone's mind and thoughts."
Charles listened quietly, feeling his heartbeat quicken slightly as Edward continued.
"For instance, one ability I possess is modifying other people's memories. I can erase parts of someone's recollection or even implant entirely new memories in place of the old ones."
The effect of those words hit Charles like a bolt of lightning.
'If this power can directly affect the brain...' he thought. 'Could I use it on myself? Could I possibly recover the memories I've lost?'
A sudden tightness took his breath. This notion felt like a fresh hope emerging from all the darkness.
'The memories before that shipwreck... The memories that vanished... Perhaps they're still locked somewhere in my mind!'
He took an urgent breath and turned to Edward, eyes full of unspoken questions. "Then... can I use this power on myself?" he asked bluntly, no longer hiding his intent.
Edward weighed the question carefully before replying in an even tone, "Yes."
Charles nearly broke into a grin. The hope he'd waited for so long was now tangible. This might be his chance to restore the missing pieces of his past. The Neuro-Melder power could be the key to making that happen.
But before his hopes could soar too high, Edward raised a hand, as though pulling the young detective back to reality.
"However... I should warn you," Edward said, voice flat yet carrying a subtle worry. "Two years ago, I tried using that power on you. I attempted to recover your memories—unsuccessfully."
Charles's heart sank as though doused by a splash of cold water. He felt his chest tighten.
"What stopped it from working?" he asked, voice mingling worry with the remnants of hope.
Edward shook his head slowly, uncertainty reflecting in his eyes. "I don't know. Perhaps something blocked me from accessing your memories... Or else they might have been wiped so completely that even this power can't retrieve them."
Charles felt his spirit falter. Yet instead of letting disappointment devour him, he composed himself, refusing to cast aside this fragile hope. Even if it was only his own far-fetched notion, he had to try.
'Whatever the risk, it's worth it,' he told himself. A detective's resolve flared in his eyes, burning like an unquenchable fire.
"I choose the Neuro-Melder," Charles said decisively, determination ringing in his voice.
Edward studied him for a moment, as though testing whether Charles truly grasped the risks. "Are you sure?"
He repeated the question, his icy stare reminding Charles that this was a one-way path.
Charles hesitated briefly, a tiny flicker of doubt crossing his mind—he did rather covet the other powers, especially the Mutant's near-immortality. But...
Reclaiming his lost memories mattered more.
"I'm sure," Charles said, voice firm.
Edward nodded. "Understood." Then he sent a telepathic command to someone elsewhere in the department.
Standing in the Arcane Science Division, Joseph received Edward's mental message. He turned toward a nearby staff member who waited expectantly.
"He chose Neuro-Melder," Joseph said curtly.
The staff member gave a grave nod. "Understood." He turned and briskly left the room.
Joseph remained still, the silence thickening around him. Soon, the echo of measured footsteps returned from the corridor. The staff member re-entered, carrying a rectangular leather case.
He carefully unclasped it to reveal two vials and a single crystal. They were arranged in neat, secure compartments, locked firmly in place so they couldn't shift or shatter.
The first vial contained a dark, indigo-colored liquid—thick, opaque, seemingly unmoving, as though it resisted being agitated or diluted.
The second vial held a liquid of deep amber, heavy and viscous like years-old honey.
But the most arresting item was the Soulstone in the final slot: a crystal about the length of a hand and two fingers thick, tapering to wickedly sharp points. Within the crystal's transparent form, a pulsating mass resembling living brain matter could be seen, gently throbbing in a steady rhythm. More disturbing yet were the small eyeballs embedded throughout the brain-like tissue—several pairs in all. Each tiny eye darted rapidly, blinking, as if aware it was being observed.
Joseph examined the items carefully, his face calm but his eyes guarded. No detail or sign of tampering escaped him. He lifted the vials and the crystal, scrutinizing them one last time.
"All good," he murmured, then locked the case again with deliberate care. Once certain everything was in order, he picked it up and walked out of the Arcane Science Division.
…
Arriving at the door of the "special room," Joseph knocked softly before pushing it open. Inside, Charles sat on the edge of the bed while Edward leaned against the wall. Both looked up at Joseph as he entered.
Joseph shut the door behind him without a sound and approached the lone table, laying the leather case down gently. He opened it, revealing the two vials and the Soulstone.
Charles peered into the case, feelings roiling through him—anticipation, anxiety, and curiosity coalescing. He could not tear his eyes from that crystal. Inside, dozens of tiny eyeballs rolled about in that living brain tissue. He felt a bizarre pull, as if it were staring straight back at him. Every tiny pulse of the tissue suggested a sentient presence, mesmerizing and terrifying at once.
Lost momentarily in this uncanny spectacle, Charles's mind seemed to drift into a timeless silence. The room's sounds faded, becoming distant wind-like whispers. Yet Joseph's voice rang out like a tolling bell, bringing him back.
"Charles!" Joseph called again, head tilted in caution.
Charles blinked, inhaling sharply, retrieving his scattered thoughts. He turned to see Joseph regarding him with a grave expression.
"Don't let it draw you in," Joseph warned, voice stern. "This crystal can tug at your psyche if you're not careful."
Charles nodded, trying to steady himself.
"Ready?" Joseph asked, his gaze fixed on his friend.
Charles took a deep breath. "Yeah…I'm ready."
"Good." Joseph handed him the vial of dark-blue liquid.
Charles accepted it. Next, Joseph lifted the Soulstone. "You'll have to drip your blood onto the crystal," he explained, passing Charles a small knife. "After that, repeat the incantation as I say it."
Charles took the knife warily. He pricked the tip of his finger, wincing as pain shot through him. A bead of bright red blood fell onto the crystal's surface, and the stone flickered intensely as though it had awakened to life.
"All right, repeat after me," Joseph said, beginning to chant: "Shiptu ezsu batálu ana redú." His voice seemed layered, male and female registers entwined in unsettling harmony.
Fixing his eyes on the crystal, Charles carefully intoned the words. At first, his voice trembled, but as he continued, the once-transparent Soulstone turned a deep, blood-like crimson, intensifying the grotesque impression of the twitching tissue within.
When the final words of the incantation were uttered, Joseph's voice softened. He glanced at Charles gravely. "From here, I'll handle the rest," he said, holding the Soulstone in both hands.
Charles stared at him, perplexed. "What do you mean, 'handle it'?"
Joseph hesitated, looking troubled, but eventually told the truth. "Once the potion you drink takes effect, I have to…drive this crystal into your heart."
The declaration struck Charles like a thunderclap. He gasped, lungs constricting.
"Into…my heart?" he echoed, feeling his heart pound wildly against his rib cage.
"Yes."
So shocked that he nearly shouted, Charles exclaimed, "That's going to kill me! You're basically stabbing me in the chest!"
Joseph sighed gently. "Calm down. This is how the Ascension works. Yes, it's dangerous, but it's the necessary ritual."
Charles grit his teeth, eyes flickering with fear. "No other way?" he asked, voice taut with a faint, desperate hope.
Joseph shrugged. "There's one alternative." He gave a faint half-smile. "You can swallow the crystal whole."
Charles stared in disbelief at the length of the Soulstone, outraged. "That's hardly any better! You want me to gulp down that big chunk?"
"Exactly…if you think you can manage it."
Charles glared at the Soulstone in dismay. "Couldn't we shatter it or break it up first, then swallow the pieces?"
Joseph shook his head. "That would destroy its essence immediately, allowing the bound entity to escape. The crystal would crumble to dust. It has to remain fully intact for the ritual."
Charles let out a frustrated sigh. "And you call this the easiest method?"
Joseph didn't hesitate. "Yes. The second vial—the blue potion—is a body-adjustment drug. It'll let your system adapt to the Soulstone's power. But that drug is highly toxic. If you drink it and fail to complete the ritual, your body mutates uncontrollably."
Charles went silent, eyes shifting between the vile blue liquid and the living crystal in Joseph's grip. His breath turned heavy as he steeled himself.
"All right… Let's do it," he muttered at last, exhaling hard.
He uncorked the vial and downed it in one gulp. A fiercely bitter taste flooded his mouth, and the glutinous liquid sank down his throat, seeming reluctant to disperse. It felt like swallowing a thick fluid that refused to dissolve. Once empty, every nerve came alive with a menacing tingle.
His vision blurred and spun, the outside world morphing into muffled thuds that resonated inside his head. Piercing pain flared as though a swelling mass had formed in his skull. He heard only the rush of his own heartbeat, the pumping of blood in his veins, heat and cold scraping against his bones. A ragged moan escaped his mouth, like a bat's shriek in the twilight.
Then a sharp pain stabbed through his chest. He glanced down just long enough to see that Joseph had driven the Soulstone into his torso. The crystal sank deeper until only the sharp tip protruded, and finally it vanished entirely into Charles's body.
The fierce pressure in his head began to recede, as though the inflamed tissue subsided. His spinning vision clarified, yet he began to notice strange things.
He looked at Joseph and Edward.
Edward appeared like a towering brain creature in vaguely human form, covered with countless watchful eyes, scanning in every direction without rest. Joseph, by contrast, glowed with near-divine radiance, his sky-blue irises gleaming like flawless gems. His ears elongated slightly, tapering in an almost elfin style.
Charles breathed raggedly, mind erupting in shock and confusion. Fresh information surged through his consciousness. A trio of figures—two women and one man—flashed in his mind: an older woman addressing him with familiar warmth, a younger woman calling him "brother," and a young man beaming affectionately, sharing laughter. The scene radiated such devotion that tears sprang to Charles's eyes.
Yet before he could process it all, something seized control of him. He felt himself slipping away as though he was no longer himself. A foreign presence pressed into him, overshadowing his mind. The newly embedded Soulstone was infiltrating his consciousness, forcibly supplanting the core of his identity.
Charles cried out, lunging at Joseph in a sudden burst of violent frenzy. However, Edward lunged with uncanny speed, putting Charles under immediate mental suppression.
"Be still, kid…" Edward murmured, locking Charles's body in place.
"Hurry—the potion!" Edward ordered Joseph tersely.
Without delay, Joseph grabbed the second vial, the thick amber liquid, and carefully poured it down Charles's throat. The syrupy concoction had a cloying sweetness undercut with a bitter aftertaste, swiftly entering Charles's bloodstream.
Within seconds, Charles's body relaxed. His racing heart slowed, and the delirious light in his eyes faded.
Edward let out a long breath, turning to Joseph.
"You expended all your stored credit to request official permission for his Ascension," Edward remarked, gaze drifting back to the now-unconscious Charles. "I hope you didn't make a mistake."