It was a cool evening. The streets of East Backlund were sometimes silent, sometimes filled with screams. Being outside at this hour was no different from courting death. Usually, the streets would be crawling with poorly dressed, armed gang members. But tonight, the streets were empty.
At the entrance of a large mansion, Morpheus stood with furrowed brows, grinding his teeth in anger. He had already visited nearly ten other places and taken down everyone in his way. His goal had been to earn money and cleanse himself of filth. But what he hadn't anticipated was stumbling upon a large-scale human trafficking operation. Someone inside this mansion was behind it all. Morpheus drew his sword and slashed the door open as he stepped inside.
He cut down everyone he encountered without hesitation. He no longer saw them as human. With each slash, he carved a path through the filth. Those he killed seemed to melt into the earth, leaving not even a drop of blood behind. He could still sense a few presences deeper inside — but they weren't ordinary people; they were Beyonders.
He entered the hall where they were waiting. At the far end, a fat man sat calmly, fingers interlocked, confident in the strength of the Beyonders surrounding him.
"Are you Capim?" Morpheus asked.
The fat man nodded, growling, "And who the hell are you? Looking for mon—"
Before he could finish his sentence, all his guards collapsed at once, leaving behind only a massive pool of blood. Morpheus raised a sword forged from blood and held it to Capim's throat.
"You're going to tell me everything. Every deal, every client. Otherwise, I'll make you experience things worse than death," he said, trembling with fury.
Capim had reached the end of the line. For two hours, he confessed every vile thing he'd done and named each of his clients. With every word, Morpheus's rage grew. How could they? How could they do this to their people? He thought. It made him sick.
He freed all the captives in the mansion and told them to return to their homes. Once they were gone, he took all of Capim's treasure, grabbed the man by the neck, and dragged him to the front gates.
A crowd had already gathered outside, drawn either by the rumors spreading from the freed prisoners or by the eerie silence that had settled around the mansion. Morpheus threw Capim to the ground in front of them. Capim believed that, having told everything, he was now safe, already dreaming of revenge. But just as he lifted his head, he caught sight of Morpheus's arm moving.
Morpheus sliced off Capim's head and held it high.
The crowd went silent and slowly stepped back. Death was no stranger in East Backlund. People didn't fear corpses. But someone who could kill Capim so ruthlessly? That was something else.
Morpheus stabbed the Wheel of Fortune tarot card into Capim's severed head and hung it above the mansion gates. Then, he turned and walked toward the crowd. They parted without a word. Once he vanished from sight, they began to cheer. Capim had made them suffer for too long. His death was cause for celebration.
Morpheus took all the money and gold he had collected and went to Klein's home. Klein was asleep. Morpheus left all the money and a note describing what had happened on the living room table. The money and gold were stacked higher than his own height. He kept a portion for himself — he would need it for Beyonder weapons — and left the rest behind.
He was still trying to process what he had learned from Capim. The Royal Family was behind it. They had been regularly demanding human "supplies." Given the secrecy, it was probably for sacrifices. They were slaughtering those people. It was impossible for this to go unnoticed. There should have been dozens of reports of missing persons to the police and the churches. Why hadn't anyone followed up?
As the truth became clear, Morpheus's eyes widened.
"Sons of bitches!! So this, too is part of your so-called will. I'll make each of you suffer the same fate. Every last one of you," he growled with hatred.
At first, his rage had been aimed at Will. But the more he saw how the gods' selfishness demanded human sacrifices, the more his fury grew. Before he could think further, the corruption within him surged again. He rushed back to the hotel where he was staying, trying to endure it. He had to grow stronger.
He had realized he wouldn't be able to find Ince Zangwill. If only he had a drop of his blood, things would be different. But for now, there was nothing he could do — except to be ready. If Zangwill ever made a move, he would help Klein immediately. His only goal now was to digest the potion quickly.
News of Morpheus's actions spread across Backlund. People described the mysterious figure as having serpent-like eyes, white hair, and leaving behind a tarot card in Capim's head. When Audrey heard these details, she immediately recognized it as Mr. Wheel of Fortune — and her heart leapt with excitement. The Tarot Club was making real changes. They were healing the wounds of East Backlund.
At the next meeting, Alger presented a Beyonder item that affected the soul — a cigar. It calmed the soul of whoever smoked it. The downside? It calmed them so much that they lost the ability to move.
Upon hearing this, Morpheus burst into laughter. When he revealed that he was already paralyzed most of the time, their expressions made him laugh even harder.
Later, the events in East Backlund became the main topic of discussion. Morpheus explained what he had seen there, omitting the part about the gods. He exposed the human trafficking rings and their clients. The rest, he figured, they could uncover themselves.
At the end of the meeting, once everyone had left, he turned to Klein and said that he would be heading far away for now. If any danger arose, Klein could call him. Klein nodded and told him to ask for help if he ever needed it.
Morpheus lit the cigar, picked up his suitcase, and walked away from Backlund with slightly quieter voices in his mind.
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With each passing meeting, Mr. Wheel of Fortune's demeanor changed. The once playful man had vanished. In his place was a silent, distant figure. He now attended meetings cloaked from head to toe, even hiding his face. He only responded to Mr. Fool's questions and spoke to no one else. Every new member of the Tarot Club wondered who he really was.
Morpheus's reason for doing this was to protect them. As he advanced down the pathway, his corruption worsened. Without the cigar and the Gray Fog, even his mere presence could cause others to lose control.
As time passed, rumors from outside grew more peculiar. Each tale involved a sword — a ship cut in half, pirates slaughtered in an instant. All eyes turned toward Morpheus. Yet he never responded to the rumors. His only focus was progress. The only reason he still attended the meetings was because the Gray Fog had become the only place he could find rest. If Klein hadn't been his friend, he might've tried to kill him and take this place for himself.
After one meeting, Klein called on Morpheus for help. Too many coincidences had begun occurring around him. Morpheus nodded silently, agreeing to come. Seeing the state of his friend, Klein couldn't help but sigh. He had ascended to the level of an angel so quickly, but the price had been steep. He knew Morpheus had done it to suppress the corruption, but even so, the suffering was immense.
The reason Morpheus was able to progress so quickly was that he didn't need to perform rituals or search for materials. Everything came from Will, who was his Echo. Because of this, he focused solely on acting and seeking a cure for the corruption.