As the smoke swirled, the scene before Olson spun wildly. When his vision cleared, all the audience members had vanished, leaving only the pale-faced magician standing before him.
A single beam of light from nowhere illuminated Olson and his immediate surroundings, while beyond lay only empty darkness. In that darkness, more sinister creatures seemed to be watching. Olson swallowed hard before hearing the magician's cheerful voice.
"Dear guest, you have thirty minutes to prepare."
"May I ask what miracle you intend to perform? Of course! Of course! If your miracle can satisfy all our guests, then our Freak Show Circus will fulfill any request of yours!"
The magician gestured dramatically, but the flesh on his face suddenly trembled, revealing pink skin beneath and squirming flesh buds. Between these buds wriggled countless transparent worms.
"But!" he added apologetically, "If your performance fails to meet our audience's expectations, then you must offer our circus's selfless performers some... modest gifts."
Though the magician didn't specify what these "gifts" were, Olson understood perfectly.
Olson digested this information, knowing this was a high-stakes gamble. Win, and he lived. Lose... he'd rather die than become one of this place's puppets!
"I need props." Olson heard his own voice tremble—whether from fear or excitement, he couldn't tell. Though he trusted Don... the truth was, he barely understood half of what Don had suggested.
"Whatever you require, our Freak Show Circus will provide!"
"Anything?"
"Naturally!"
Of course, these so-called magic props couldn't contain any extraordinary factors beyond their grade. The magician smiled knowingly.
Olson's eyes suddenly lit up, his lips curling. The magician sensed something amiss, a premonition of disaster creeping in.
As if granted permission, Olson began reciting from the mental list Don had provided, spewing out a torrent of terms neither speaker nor listener had ever heard before.
"Cylinder, base, piston, crank linkage mechanism, slide valve steam distribution structure, governor structure, flywheel..."
"Throttle valve, centrifugal governor, steel, crankshaft, eccentric wheel, fire-tube boiler..."
The magician went from sitting upright to looking utterly bewildered, until the flesh buds on his face began breaking free uncontrollably, as if unable to withstand this deluge of knowledge, teetering on the edge of losing control.
When the magician tried to stop Olson's relentless recitation, Olson spoke first, interrupting whatever spell the magician had been preparing.
"Not done yet. Now I need to explain the specifics... Can you handle this?" The Traveler grew more fluent with each term, even kindly checking in with his struggling host.
"Of... course..."
The magician was lost. The magician didn't understand. The magician could only mechanically follow instructions to manifest this "miracle." These were the props he'd promised—containing no extraordinary factors, not exceeding the established rules. Bound by his own logic, he robotically obeyed his programming.
Having boasted so grandly, what else could he do?
Olson watched as the seemingly broken magician—now truly pale as paper—snapped his fingers. The surroundings suddenly brightened, and various mechanical parts materialized as if conjured by some mysterious force.
The circus's massive dome trembled silently. The miracle the magician was manifesting rapidly drained the accumulated power of this place.
The Beyonders watching the freak shows noticed with surprise that the surrounding marionettes' ceaseless cheering had weakened.
What was happening?
Their expressions varied, but all realized simultaneously—this was an opportunity!
"Next, we welcome Mr. Marcel Labrousse!"
Unexpectedly, the freak show on stage halted. The flesh-composite monster shuddered and froze as an elderly woman in black robes emerged from backstage, clutching a purple crystal ball, her hoarse voice echoing through the circus.
"Wrong!"
Someone suddenly shouted, "The previous performer hasn't finished!"
The old woman's icy gaze swept over, and all the marionettes turned their heads in unison—some rotating a full 180 degrees—their hollow eyes fixed on the protester.
The man immediately broke into a cold sweat and shrank back.
The Seer-pathway old woman offered no explanation as another man stood, his face stiff with terror, and walked mechanically toward the stage.
"No, this isn't right... Why me...?" he muttered incessantly, powerless against the Spirit Body Threads' control.
But the high-sequence Beyonders who had stumbled into this place all noticed something peculiar.
The force controlling them had intensified.
Yet... some accumulated power in this place was being rapidly depleted.
What was happening here?
Could this be their chance to escape?
Meanwhile, Olson finally finished reciting the jumbled knowledge in his mind. Glancing back at the magician, he almost felt pity for the poor creature.
Just reading those descriptions had left his own mind blank—this magician clearly had it worse.
The magician now looked thoroughly ravaged, his entire body covered in wildly squirming flesh buds. His neat clothes and hat seemed to have melted away, revealing raw organs and jagged ribs. His eyes, peeking through the writhing flesh, held a vacant stare.
He resembled a used-up mystical charm, exuding such fragility that he might shatter at any moment.
Into a pile of meat chunks and wriggling worms...
'I'm a sinner for feeling sorry for this thing,' Olson thought remorsefully.
Before him materialized an enormous machine. Olson gazed reverently at this assembled steel monstrosity—its precise components, intricate structure, and... power that transcended eras.
This wasn't some mystically-assembled abomination, but a genuine industrial miracle.
'The Church of the God of Craftsmanship's Beyonders would go mad seeing this.'
Then another realization struck him. "Ah, seems I've gone over time."
His mouth felt dry from all that talking.
The magician no longer cared. Raising his disintegrating arm, he pointed at the massive machine and snapped his fingers.
Flames roared to life as steam hissed within the hollowed-out concealment.
With a resonant hum, the steel behemoth slowly stirred to life.
The dome trembled violently as the depleted terrifying power suddenly seemed replenished, an oppressive force weighing down on every audience member.
All marionettes stood.
Loud, terrifying murmurs and ravings coalesced into unified roars.
With feverish enthusiasm, they chanted:
"Miracle!"
"Miracle!"
"The miracle of life! The miracle of industry!"
The steel beast tore through the curtains and rumbled onto the stage.
(Chapter End)