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墨書 Inktalez
"What is happening?" The lead dancer, a young star, couldn't help but feel puzzled. During a brief pause in the dance, he quickly scanned the audience below. Seeing rows of empty seats sent a wave of unease across his face, and his steps faltered slightly. His gaze then landed on the other side of the playground—there, more and more students were gathering around a platform, their eyes glazed over, completely captivated by the figure on stage.
On stage, James stood calmly, a smile on his face, his gaze steady and powerful, seemingly indifferent to the commotion around him. He simply stood there, yet his commanding presence was like a vortex that drew everyone's attention. His suit was impeccably pressed, as if tailored for this very moment, exuding an irresistible confidence and dignity with every gesture. Around the playground, more and more students silently converged, too engrossed to even speak, holding their breath as they watched James on stage, as if merely seeing him could provide them with an intangible comfort and satisfaction.
Gradually, only a few stragglers remained in front of the main stage at the activity center. Eventually, even they left to join the throng moving toward the corner of the playground. The young stars looked at the empty audience seats in shock, their movements coming to an abrupt halt as the music cut off. The spotlight illuminated them starkly against the emptiness, creating an atmosphere that felt particularly jarring and desolate. Their faces were etched with embarrassment and confusion, unable to comprehend why the audience had suddenly vanished.
The lead dancer glanced around helplessly until his gaze fixed on a figure in the corner of the playground—James's name flashed in his mind, and in that instant, everything clicked into place.
On stage, James wore a slight smile, his gaze soft yet sharp as he surveyed the students flocking from all directions. His presence was like a silent ignition point in the crowd, releasing an irresistible allure without uttering a word. Some in the crowd gasped softly; others wore expressions of eager anticipation. A few students even raised their phones to capture this moment. James made no unnecessary movements; simply standing there made him akin to a lighthouse in the dark night, drawing all eyes toward him.
This transformation was no coincidence. In this moment of silence, James silently declared his influence; his existence was irreplaceable at this anniversary celebration.
Standing at the makeshift podium on the playground, James adjusted his suit sleeves with elegant composure before clearing his throat and picking up the microphone. With a smile on his face, he scanned each face in the audience below. The people around him held their breath in rapt attention, completely drawn in by him, eagerly awaiting each word he would say next. However, beneath this calm exterior, James felt an inner restlessness; these routine platitudes meant nothing to him—a mere facade to mask his true intentions.
"Dear students and teachers," he began with a steady voice full of passion, "today we gather to celebrate fifty years of our university's journey." His words flowed with typical bureaucratic rhetoric. "Over these fifty years, our campus has nurtured countless talents and contributed many outstanding individuals to society. We have always adhered to our educational mission, striving to ensure that every student develops both knowledge and character." As James continued speaking with a fitting smile on his face, inside he felt no stirrings of emotion—only a sense of annoyance.
He knew that beneath this celebratory facade lay another ceremony he truly anticipated—one that was being secretly prepared on the other side of campus. There, Emma was faithfully executing their plan, leading fervent followers as they prepared for the upcoming "sacred ritual." Clad in black robes that hinted at solemnity and mystery beneath their folds, Emma's gaze was resolute and devout as if her entire soul were devoted to the faith represented by James. Behind her trailed groups of followers armed with sharp blades and burning torches; their eyes shone with an unusual fervor as if they had completely abandoned rationality and surrendered themselves entirely to the faith of Blood Moon.
Emma moved forward with her followers in unwavering steps along the campus paths toward the playground. Her figure appeared eerie yet solemn under the flickering flames—like an ancient priestess leading her followers toward an age-old and mysterious ritual. Most of these followers were students enchanted by James's charisma; they seemed ordinary day-to-day but now wore expressions of cold determination devoid of emotion—eyes filled only with unconditional fanaticism. The blades they carried glimmered in the firelight as they marched in unison like a silent army drawing closer to the playground.
James stood on stage with a voice still steady yet increasingly low and eerie; with each word he spoke seemed to cast an invisible shadow over the playground.
"For fifty years," he continued smoothly yet ominously, "our university has not only been dedicated to imparting knowledge but more importantly—to pursuing a rational awakening…" He paused for effect; his gaze deepened and turned icy as he locked eyes with students below as if peering into their very souls. "True rationality is not merely understanding worldly knowledge but transcending oneself and all external constraints for freedom. How many among you long for that true awakening?" He leaned slightly forward; his voice dropped to a whisper-like tone imbued with hypnotic power.
Initially murmurs rippled through the crowd below; however, as James's words sank deeper into their minds, their expressions gradually turned vacant—eyes glazed over as they fixated on him on stage as if entering some unconscious state. Their faces became focused yet sluggish; one by one they fell silent—not uttering another sound—as if bound by invisible ropes tethering their minds to that strange speech from which they could not escape.
The principal, along with several local officials and distinguished guests, began to feel a sense of unease. James's words were straying further from the usual style of his speech; the content was not only obscure but also filled with a subtle fervor. The principal furrowed his brow and turned to the emcee sitting beside him, hoping to signal for James to adjust his tone and return to a more conventional discourse. However, when he attempted to rise, he was astonished to find himself unable to move. His legs felt as if they were bound by some invisible force, and he couldn't even lift his arms. His body seemed completely out of control, leaving him rigidly seated, helplessly staring at James on stage.
A flicker of terror crossed the principal's eyes as he turned once more to the emcee, only to see him staring blankly at James with hollow eyes, his face devoid of expression. The emcee appeared lost in a daze, completely oblivious to the unusual happenings around him.
At that moment, James wore a barely perceptible cold smile, his gaze slicing through the audience like a blade, taking in all these entrapped souls. "In this hall of knowledge," he declared, "only those who truly yearn for freedom and seek liberation can break the shackles of ignorance." His voice was deep yet carried an irresistible power, like an invisible summons leading the audience toward the "awakening" he had envisioned.
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