Eldritch Guidance

Chapter 123 – Outside Influence

Alan glanced back and forth between Jafar and Cid, confusion etched across his face. The tension in the room was palpable, and he could feel the weight of unspoken accusations hanging in the air.Alan: “Snitch? What are you talking about?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of the situation.

Cid’s frustration bubbled to the surface, and he gestured sharply toward Jafar, his voice laced with incredulity.

Cid: “Why don’t you ask your friend?” he said, his tone biting. “He seems to know more than he’s letting on, ” he said as he tucked away the book of grand design.

Alan turned toward Jafar, his expression a mix of confusion and concern.

Alan: “Jafar, what is he talking about?” he asked, his voice soft but insistent.

Jafar hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor as he let out a heavy sigh.

Jafar: “Alan… I told Mitra about Cid.”

Alan: “You ?” his voice rose, his eyes widening in shock. “But we promised we wouldn’t say anything. How could you—” His words were cut off by the sound of the door to the room creaking open.

Entering the room was a man in the crisp white uniform of an enforcer. He had short black hair and an unremarkable face, the kind that blended into a crowd. If Alan hadn’t met him before, he might not have recognized him. But he knew exactly who this was: Lou, a vice-captain within the enforcers—the third-highest rank in their hierarchy. His presence immediately shifted the dynamic in the room, his sharp eyes scanning the scene with calculated precision.

Lou: “It seems you’ve been discovered, Jafar,” the enforcer declared, his voice calm but carrying an edge of authority. “We weren’t able to record a useful confession.”

Alan’s head snapped toward Lou, his confusion deepening.

Alan: “Huh? What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Cid leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he glared at Jafar.

Cid: “He’s here to try and get me to confess to working with Sandra,” he said, his tone dripping with bitterness. “Jafar is bugged and recording us right now.”

Alan: “Wait, what?” he turned to Jafar, his voice rising in disbelief. “Jafar, is that true?”

There was an awkward silence as Jafar hesitated, his jaw tightening. The lack of denial was all the confirmation Alan needed.

Alan: “Why?” Alan demanded, his voice cracking with a mix of anger and hurt. “Why would you do this?”

Jafar: “Because you’re too soft, Alan,” he replied, his tone defensive but tinged with guilt. “Sorry, I would have told you otherwise.”

Alan: “We not to tell anyone!” he yelled, his fists clenching at his sides. The betrayal cut deep, and he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

Jafar: “That’s what I mean,” he shot back, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re too trusting, too willing to give people the benefit of the doubt.”

Alan: “It’s not about being soft, Jafar!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the small room. “It’s about keeping our word. If we go back on our word, we’re no better than animals!”

Jafar’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to Alan, his voice low and intense.

Jafar: “Would you have kept your word if Cid was responsible for Cris’ death? What if he helped Sandra turn him into an undead? Would you still keep your promise then?”

Alan flinched, the mention of Cris hitting him like a punch to the gut. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat.

Alan: “But he didn’t.”

Jafar: “People lie,” his tone unyielding.

Cid, who had been watching the exchange in silence, finally spoke up. His voice was calm but carried an edge of cold fury.

Cid: “You’re right, people do lie. But I never lied to you. And now, that’s something you can’t claim you did for me.” he glared at Jafar, his gaze piercing and unrelenting.

Alan couldn’t help but agree with Cid. Keeping a promise was everything to someone like Alan—it was the foundation of trust, the bedrock of integrity. Jafar’s betrayal, his willingness to lie and break their promise, cut deeper than any physical wound. He had never thought Jafar would do something like this, not to him. The hurt was written plainly on his face as he looked at Jafar, his voice quieter now but no less intense.

Jafar’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before he quickly masked it, his jaw tightening as he squared his shoulders. The tension in the room thickened, pressing down on them like a suffocating weight. An uneasy silence settled over the group, punctuated only by the rhythmic tapping of Cid’s fingers against the desk—a deliberate, almost hypnotic pattern that seemed to underscore the tension.

Lou’s voice cut through the stillness, sharp and authoritative.

Lou: “It seems you’ve noticed the recording device on Jafar,” his tone clipped. “Well, then. I’m going to need you to come with me for an interview. Refusing to comply will result in your expulsion from the university.”

Cid’s response was immediate and resolute, his voice calm but edged with defiance.

Cid: “I think not. I’d prefer to keep breathing, thank you. I’ve been informed of the kind of things you do to people like me by a red-haired woman, and I have no intention of letting you dissect me.” As he spoke, his fingers continued their rhythmic tapping, the sound growing louder, more deliberate, as if signaling something.

Lou raised an eyebrow, his surprise evident.

Lou: “I’m not sure what rumor you’ve heard about us, but there’s nothing to fear for your safety if you have nothing to hide.”

Cid let out a bitter laugh, his voice dripping with disdain.

Cid: “Oh, please. Stop pretending to be the good guys in this situation. Your ‘protection’ is just another word for control.”

Lou’s jaw tightened, but his tone remained steady, though it lacked conviction.

Lou: “I’m just doing my job as security for the university. My duty is to protect our students.”

Cid: “Protecting students?” he shot back, his voice rising. “You have an interesting way of ‘protecting students’ by aiming a sniper at a student’s head.” His words hung in the air, heavy with accusation, and the room seemed to grow colder.

At that, Lou stiffened, his expression hardening. Jafar and Alan exchanged confused glances, their faces a mix of disbelief and growing unease.

Jafar: “What is he talking about?” he asked, turning to Lou, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Is there really a sniper?”

Cid didn’t wait for Lou to respond.

Cid: “Across the courtyard, on top of the building, there’s a sniper with his sights trained on my head through the large window of this room,” he explained, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. “They intended to take me out if I resisted. Hypocrites, all of you. Protesting to protect students? What a joke.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of Cid’s revelation settling heavily on everyone present. Alan’s eyes widened in shock, and Jafar’s expression shifted from confusion to concern. He took a step back, as if distancing himself from Lou, his voice trembling as he spoke.

Jafar: “Is that true, Lou? Are there really snipers targeting Cid?”

Lou hesitated, his bravado faltering. He glanced toward the window, his confidence wavering as the truth of Cid’s words sank in.

Lou: “That’s… just a precaution,” he stammered, his voice losing its earlier authority. “We had to be prepared for any… resistance.”

Cid: “Typical,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom as he glared at Lou. “She was right about you. All of you. Hypocrites!” The words hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy with disdain and accusation. His jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

Lou’s expression didn’t waver. His face was a mask of cold professionalism, his tone as unyielding as steel.

Lou: “Whatever you think of our methods, you’re coming in for interrogation. That’s not up for debate.” He took a step forward, his boots clicking sharply against the floor, each sound a reminder of the authority he wielded.

Cid’s frustration erupted. He slammed his hand down specifically on the far corner of his desk, the sharp crack echoing through the room like a gunshot. The gesture was meant to convey fury, but it came off as awkward, almost desperate. He dragged his fingers through his disheveled hair, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts, before pressing his palm against his face. It was as if he could physically push back the storm of emotions threatening to consume him.

Cid: “Why is this happening?” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, more to himself than to anyone else. “Where did I go wrong?” The question hung in the air, unanswered, as his mind raced through a labyrinth of regrets and what-ifs.

Lou didn’t flinch. He pulled out a pair of Jinsil cuffs, the metallic surface glinting ominously in the dim light of the room. The faint sheen seemed to mock Cid as Lou stepped closer, his movements deliberate, his voice steady.

Lou: “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Cid’s mind was a whirlwind, replaying the chain of events that had led him here. It all came back to Alan. If only he’d listened to John’s warnings. If only he’d been more cautious. The university wouldn’t have uncovered his involvement. He wouldn’t be sitting here, cornered, with enforcers closing in like vultures circling their prey.

He knew there were more enforcers. The book had warned Cid. He was surrounded. Lou and the sniper were just the beginning. Others were waiting, hidden in the shadows, biding their time, their presence felt but unseen.

A memory surfaced, unbidden: John’s voice, calm but insistent. The words echoed in his mind, a faint lifeline in the chaos. They felt strange, almost foreign, but something about them sparked a flicker of clarity.

Cid: “Don’t worry about things outside your control…” the cornered student murmured, testing the words on his tongue. His voice was soft, almost lost in the tension of the room, but the repetition seemed to ground him, if only for a moment.

Lou paused, his brow furrowing as he studied Cid. The shift in the room was palpable, the air thickening with tension.

Cid: “Don’t worry about things outside your control…” he repeated, louder this time, his voice gaining strength. His eyes narrowed, his gaze locking onto Alan, who stood frozen, his expression unreadable. “Things outside control… outside… …!”

And then it hit him. Like a bolt of lightning, the realization tore through him. His eyes widened, his mouth falling open as he stared at Alan, a mix of shock and dawning comprehension flooding his features.

Cid: “You… that’s what he meant…” Cid’s voice trembled, then sharpened with urgency. “You’re under the influence of an outsider. You’re worshipping a Nameless God! That’s why it doesn’t work on you! What god are you worshipping!? What have you done!?” he yelled.

The room felt as though it had been plunged into a deep freeze, the air thick with tension and uncertainty. Alan stood there, bewildered, his mind racing to comprehend the accusation that had just been hurled at him. He had never worshiped any of the Nameless Gods in his life, and the very thought sent a shiver down his spine.

Lou’s eyes flicked between Cid and Alan, his stoic mask cracking.

Lou: “What are you talking about?” he demanded, his voice sharp, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his tone.

Alan: “I'm not sure what he’s—” he said before being interrupted.

Before anyone could react, a deafening shattered the silence. The window exploded inward, glass shards raining down like jagged rain. The world erupted into chaos.