A crowd had gathered on the port town's square. A few stray seagulls circled above the solemn families, their calls echoing through the stillness.
The shadows had already vanished beneath the soft, morning sunlight, reigning high above.
The funeral felt like a heavy, quiet moment suspended in time. Its weight lingered in the crisp, salt-tinged air, mingling with the faint scent of flowers placed by mourners.
Silence drifted through the air since no musicians were present to play a sad, yet ceremonial tune in honor of the deceased.
A single coffin, draped in a black cloth, rested on a wooden cart in the middle of the square—it served as a tribute for those who died in the fire, and a memorial to those whose bodies had never been found. In great poverty, that was all the locals could do.
Around it, mourners dressed in simple clothing stood in grim solitude with their heads bowed.
A mix of townsfolk—fishermen, dock workers, shopkeepers showed up—those who had known the deceased in various ways, all sharing the quiet weight of loss in their eyes.
Closer, standing right beside the coffin, were the families of the lost ones.
In the first row, a woman—with an angel for a daughter in one hand, and the other holding a small palm of a 5-year-old boy—cried, knowing their beloved dad and husband—Drunkard Dick—would never embrace them ever again.
Nanny Betty, who cried her eyes out for Roberta, helped old man Jenkens stand with crutches, who came to say goodbye to the seafood vendor—this old lady's brave decisions would never be forgotten.
And at last, everyone gathered here to mourn over the death of their beloved painter, Roberta, who had bravely fought against the threats swarming inside her house.
Her body had been recovered by the morning sailors who had looked for anyone they could rescue from drowning in the deep.
"..."
Especially nanny Betty, who couldn't bear to see a lady so young reach the heavens before her. How the world was unfair… How cruel it was!
Why…? Why!?
The old woman collapsed, gripping soil in her weathered palms, sending off the one who was like a daughter to her. The old man Jenkens, stumbling on his crutches, could only watch as she pounded the ground in agony.
Laden with pain, nobody else could utter a word when the clinking of metal shovels echoed against hard soil, and the coffin was lowered into the earth.
"...let's go. There's nothing left for us to see."
Inase whispered to his buddy as they watched over the ceremony from afar.
The two didn't dare intrude on the townsfolk's deeply personal gathering, knowing they were merely outsiders, not even from this timeline.
Of course, it was sad to see so many people pass away in this event, but there was nothing else they could do for the locals.
"..."
One glance later, Hosen also turned away from the procession.
Walking around the cobblestone streets, the town was much quieter and emptier than when they first arrived.
While most people were at the funeral, the sheer number of deaths made the place feel rather... lonely.
Most people. Because soon, the two met on their way, the person they were inevitable to face.
"...detective."
Peeling himself off the wall, Watson blocked their way.
His half-burned-out, thick cigar puffed out a dense fume from his mouth as if he waited for them to pass by.
"We have to talk, lads. I have a few questions about what happened on that island."
The two knew it was coming sooner or later, so the only question was when. Apparently, now was the time.
"Let's change the location."
The blonde pointed at the shack on the side of the road. No one should eavesdrop on them if they talk there.
***
It was best not to disturb people in their grieving with their conversation, so a small, deserted building served as a perfect place to have some privacy.
"It was an oil leak."
Inase stated, leaning on the creaking, wooden table with Hosen standing further away.
"What?"
As though the information refused to enter his head, Detective Watson couldn't believe what he had just heard.
"Mass hallucination and hysteria caused by oil leakage."
He doubled down on that theory.
"You know, an old rig is not too far from here. The drill malfunctioned, and the oil in the water spread along with the dense fog in the area. Unknowingly, in times of poverty and need, people purified the saltwater and drank it without knowing the consequences."
To get rid of any eldritch suspicions, they decided to plant this idea into the detective's mind.
"You can't be serious, fellas, oil doesn't work like that."
Watson let out a chuckle at the absurdity of their suggestion.
"No matter, people will buy it."
Inase was adamant about it while Hosen silently nodded in agreement.
They could use countless fake stories to explain the phenomenon realistically and hide the facts, but most of them sounded too ridiculous to tell the outside world.
They considered a fire outbreak. A cult. Massive sea creature attack. Migration of a large flock of birds. A contagious illness or a pandemic... Many, many options.
Though some of them would have too little of an impact and couldn't cover the story, or be too massive to end so suddenly. And most of them wouldn't even explain the craze that had occurred last night.
The oil contamination seemed like the most believable one.
"You can't convince me it was only that—!"
But Watson was a stubborn guy, especially when his case was on the line.
He couldn't believe an answer to it turned out so disappointing. It couldn't be...!
"I saw it with my own two eyes! The monsters, they-"
"Detective,"
When Inase's previously stern voice lowered, Watson jolted. Hidden from view, something glistened with a cold, sharp glow.
A knife he always used to kill.
Behind the blonde, the other man's colorless clothing only highlighted his otherworldly, shimmering, vibrant eye that no ordinary human could possess.
It forced the detective to shiver uncomfortably at its sight. Their image was already intimidating enough. Who knew what they would be capable of if the man didn't shut his mouth on time?
"You will report this to your detective agency unless you want to be taken for a madman. You're already seen as a fool there, so another situation with an absurd outcome would only tarnish your already damaged reputation." His eyes narrowed, "I mean, monsters? Seriously? Who would ever believe that?"
Inase's tone wasn't as friendly as before, not in the slightest.
"Insanity plea is very popular these days."
It was not advice, but a threat.
The detective had a feeling the two weren't joking. They would kill him if it were necessary.
"..."
...his life was more precious than seeking truth and bringing justice to his clients—such thought was the exact opposite of the hardboiled character he wanted to play oh-so-badly.
Deep inside, he knew he was a coward.
"...alright."
Regrettably, he agreed to Inase's terms.
"I'll report it was an oil rig spillage." A deep sigh escaped him. "Is that enough?"
"..."
At first, the two stared at him thoroughly, looking for any indications of lying or bluffing, but they couldn't find any.
Soon, Inase's serious frown turned into a cheerful smile, the complete opposite of what he showed a second ago.
"Mhm~ Glad you understand, old man!"
Patting him on the shoulder when they passed by, the two left him inside, contemplating.
"See ya~!"
***
"As if~ I can't believe he thought I was serious about shanking him."
Inase stretched after he took a whiff of the cold, fresh air outside—the hay in that shed stank quite badly.
"He's gonna live some more and be quite the big fish in the detective world later. I can't kill him even if I wanted to."
He playfully stuck his tongue out, prepping his hands in his pockets.
"..."
Seeing Hosen follow him quietly out of there, he couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Bwahahahaha—!"
He burst into a fit of hearty laughter.
"But what I can't believe more is that you actually lost your voice after all of that!"
He looked so intimidating back there only because he couldn't utter a word, like he predicted a few days prior.
"You should stop talking altogether if you are more effective with threatening people that way! Hahaha!"
"..."
Hearing him let it all out, Hosen stared daggers at his partner.
Oh, how badly he wished he could come up with a good retort to his slander, but he physically couldn't right now…
So instead, he took his notebook in hand and wrote in it the following:
Shut up or I'll kill you.
Which had the opposite effect on Inase, making him burst into an even louder fit.
It will come back in a few hours, so you'd better be prepared.
"Well, at least I won't have to listen to your nerdy talk for a while."
Seeing his buddy glare in frustration brought a smile to his lips. Good. His out-of-character reactions to Inase's mischiefs always kept them entertained.
The blonde gave the man a hard slap on the back, to which Hosen doubled over, coughing violently from the sudden hit.
Inase chuckled.
After all, if he had the strength to do it, he wasn't going to hold back.
"You know, you're not that bad of a guy."
Maybe… just maybe, he thought, they got a bit closer.
"..."
While they walked through the town, their gaze scanned every corner of the fish-scented docks and wooden shacks, their edges eaten away by slow decay.
There was something homey in the rusted signs they passed by. An unfamiliar, bittersweet feeling of nostalgia tugged at their hearts.
The once lively streets were silent, as though the town itself was ready to be forgotten.
It felt like a place suspended between time—familiar yet distant.
"I guess we won't be eating that meal in the inn," Inase sighed, disappointed. "What a shame, it tasted so good..."
Right on time, a shimmering portal appeared in the same area they had been dropped off at. Its many colors captivated their attention, while their entrance home beckoned them in with a warm invitation.
Both knew it was their cue to leave, so they bid the town their silent goodbyes, closing their eyes and stepping into the light.
They disappeared like they were never here.
***
The Facility looked just as when they left it.
The same white walls, the same glass window between the experimental area and the control center. The same stoic head scientist standing behind it—he watched their return silently, but with pride.
A circle of researchers greeted Inase and Hosen back with applause—even the female one nodded at them with acknowledgment.
"Congratulations on completing your first joint mission."
It didn't seem like they had made any mistakes, judging by the absence of complaints... what a pleasant surprise.
"The adumbrali's signal had disappeared from our anomaly radar," she reported.
They have succeeded...?
"Heh. Told ya everything's going to be alright," Inase raised his chin arrogantly, bathing in praises. "There was no need for you to worry!"
Or nag.
To his comment, the woman's brow twitched, as if she wanted to put him back in his place.
"Hmph! You better pray I won't find any discrepancies."
He should get off his high horse. It was just a single successful mission among many more to come. It was still too early to be happy about it.
"Sure, sure."
Waving his hand, Inase casually dispersed the crowd and ended their short celebration.
The two left, headed for the changing room to gather their things home. Along the way, however, a certain object caught Inase's attention.
"Huh… So that's what bore significance to you."
Hanging on the wall was a small painting, the very same Hosen had taken out from the fire back in the 1930s.
It depicted a moody sea. The waves reflected the stormy atmosphere, as the dark, swirling clouds hung low over the horizon where the ocean and sky seemed locked in a silent struggle.
On that same picture stood a lonely house on a skerry, withstanding the strong waves which wanted to bring it to ruins.
And its title?
A self-portrait.
Inase connected the dots.
Someone must have found it.
As it continued, well-preserved in history, it was exhibited all over the world from one museum to another. The only legacy to the nameless painter who was lost to time.
Now that he thought about it, he saw this painting in Melbourne too, where he fought that unidentified creature.
"I'm surprised you remember this stuff."
Scoffing at Hosen's exceptional memory, he quickly caught up to him ahead.
In a way, Roberta's dream came true—although not in person, but through her work. She was able to see the beauty of the world just like she always wanted.