Gandalf's skin began to peel away.
The red light intensified, deepening his pain.
Yet Gandalf couldn't scream.
Whatever was keeping him in place had taken away his ability to move his mouth. He couldn't blink.
Couldn't speak.
Couldn't look away. His eyes remained fixed on the three figures above him.
"Aaaaaah!"
A scream echoed across the room.
It wasn't Gandalf.
Instead, it was a lady standing across from him. Her face had twisted in horror as she saw Gandalf's flesh fall to the ground. Revealing the bones that once hid behind it.
The lady wasn't the only one who screamed. The few children close enough to see screamed at the top of their lungs.
The flesh turned to dust as it touched the ground.
The rest of his body followed.
All that was left of Gandalf were his glasses, which shattered upon falling.
The people shifted away, careful not to touch any piece of the shattered lens. Like they carried a plague.
The bell shook in the hands of the figure.
The tune hadn't even finished before the crowd immediately fell silent.
They heard the voice.
"Good!"
To Lucas's ears, it sounded pleased.
'This is magic then? Magic is real?'
He had never seen any signs of magic before. Except the petty parlour tricks scammers used to steal money from fools.
He shrugged.
If it were possible, then the authentic kind wouldn't even be found in the ghetto. It would be a waste of time.
Then, what did these people want with the slum dwellers?
Sacrifice?
He watched as the figure behind the altar raised the bell in the air.
The two beside him stepped back.
He rang the bell.
Except for an ordinary ringing sound, there was nothing else.
"Huh?"
The figures behind the altar bowed.
And the strangest part was that they were bowing towards the crowd.
There was surprise in all their faces.
"What's going on?
Why are they bowing to us?"
Lucas was taken aback. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it back.
What is that?
His eyes moved up. There was a large black surface floating in front of him.
The black surface flickered, and pale words slowly appeared across it.
Lucas stared at them, unsure whether he was looking at some kind of glass or a trick of the light.
'The light is red though…'
He reached out, yet his fingers passed through the screen without resistance.
He frowned, feeling unease settle deeper in his chest.
Then, at the very top, four words appeared:
[HELPER SCREEN].
Lucas turned to the people beside him. They were silent, staring at the empty air in front of them.
He heard a kid's voice though. He was trembling:
"Sister, what is this?"
The kid shook the sister's arm, jolting her out of her daze.
"What, junior?" The sister asked.
"There is something in front of me. It is floating. And it has words written on it."
"Do you understand what it says?"
Junior nodded. He saw his sister tremble.
"What's wrong sister?"
"Junior… But you can't read."
Lucas's lips parted slightly.
'Oh'
The room was silent. Almost as if they were all listening as the siblings spoke.
A man turned to the person beside him.
"Do you see it?"
His neighbour turned. "What?"
"This!"
The man poked the air in front of him, making a gesture at it.
"There is a screen in front of me."
"I don't see it. I only see the one in front of me." The neighbour replied.
The man inched closer to the neighbour,
"What does yours say?"
"Erm… My name."
The man nodded, "Okay. Is that all?"
The neighbour shook his head, "Among other things."
The man pushed closer, "Like what?"
The neighbour's eyes twitched. "Fuck off!"
He pushed the man away.
Watching this, Lucas gave himself a slight nod.
'That's right, only I can see the screen in front of me.'
He ran his eyes over the screen, reading it to himself.
[HELPER SCREEN]
Name: Lucas Grimm
Status: Prospective Proselyte
House: unassigned
Fracture: Failure
Mar: unassigned.
He stopped.
'What in the world?'
He reread the words on the screen.
'Prospective? Proselyte? Me?'
The screen thought he was a prospective proselyte. That he could be converted.
Problem was, converted to what?
A magic association or a cult?
Lucas wasn't deeply religious, there was hardly anyone in the slums who were.
Religion was for those with hope. Or faith.
Or pockets deep enough to give offerings.
None of these were in the brutal world of the slums.
Lucas wondered if everyone had the same status as him.
He turned to his left. A lady stood there. He called to her:
"Hey."
The lady looked at him. "Hey."
"The status tag in front of me says prospective proselyte. I was wondering if everyone had the same."
He saw the lady look at the space in front of her, no doubt staring at her own screen.
She shrugged.
"Mine says the same."
"Thanks."
He turned away, towards the person on his right.
What he got was a middle finger to his face.
He proceeded to ask others, though they were mostly uncooperative.
At the end, about three people verified that the status displayed 'prospective proselyte'.
'We are all prospective proselytes then—I think. Still, we are all here to be converted into whatever these people believe in.
The figures were still bowing.
Strange.
Is there still something else?
The screen flickered, and new words appeared on it.
[Would you like assistance from the Helper Screen]
[Yes]
[No]
Lucas wasn't sure what seeking assistance would cause. He'd be damned if he tried it out himself.
'Let's find out.'
He turned back to his left, facing the lady.
"Do you see the new words? The ones about assistance?"
The lady blinked. She looked at her screen again.
"Just now. What does it mean?"
"I dunno." Lucas replied. "I already clicked yes, but I don't see a change."
The lady nodded.
"I see. How do I click it?"
Lucas stared into her eyes.
'Sucker!'
"Well… I issued a mental command. It was accepted as I focused on that part of the screen."
"Thank you." She smiled at him.
Lucas smiled back. "You're welcome."
He saw her gaze shift, her eyes narrowing slightly in concentration.
He saw the relief come a while after.
'I guess she clicked successfully then.'
Lucas shifted his gaze, searching for another sucker to test.
But he felt a change. He turned.
The woman was gone.
'What?'
He looked around, wondering how she moved when he saw new words appear on his screen.
[First Acceptance: Ms. Arlene Arbour]
Dozens of eyes flashed.
Were they seeing the same thing on their screen?
[Reward for First Acceptance: A piece of understanding]
Arlene got a reward?
Lucas hurriedly accepted the request for assistance. And the red consumed him quickly.
His vision faded.