The sun hung dim and distant at mid-high, shrouded by the heavy veil of the Eclipse, casting unnatural shadows over the cobbled streets of Arkana Kingdom.
Gas lamps sputtered to life with a ghostly hiss, their pale light barely piercing the gloom. Steam slithered across the ground like creeping mist, veiling rusted grates and crooked alleyways in a dreamlike darkness
Inside a small house tucked in the far end of the district, Jolly slept soundly, exhausted from the chaos of his recent encounter.
He stirred.
"What time is it?" he muttered, sitting up groggily.
The clock read 9:00 AM, and the calendar displayed: Duskryn 01, 208 AB.
He glanced out the window—not far from the bed, given the room's small size. Even at 9 a.m., the world outside looked like night. The sky was cloaked in darkness, and a chill crept in through the glass.That's when he realized—the Eclipse season had already begun.
"I see...It's already Duskryn," he murmured.
A flash—brief, vivid—surged through his memory. The Wonder he'd faced. The regret etched in her eyes before she fell. Jolly grabbed his hair and let out a shaky sigh.
"This feels like a dream."
"You slept quite a while," a voice said.
Jolly turned, startled.
"Elandor?" His voice cracked with confusion. "I thought you died last year…"
Elandor smiled. "Finally," he said.
An old, dust-covered television crackled in the corner, showing flickering headlines:
"Low-Rank Wonder Killed in Connecticut Yesterday..."
Elandor glanced at the screen. "I'd suggest never going back to Connecticut again. The Eclipse Season has started. You need to be careful."
"You were there for your trial, right?" he continued. "But Connecticut is crawling with Wonders—low and high rank. You're lucky I was passing by. If I hadn't shown up, you'd already be dead."
.....
Later, the two sat in a cramped kitchen. The kettle hissed softly. Elandor poured warm milk into a chipped cup and handed it to Jolly.
"What are you doing here?" Jolly asked, accepting the cup. "You already died…"
"That's how the Requiem Death works," Elandor said. "Just like you experienced. Once infected, you die within five minutes. No exceptions. Then you're resurrected here... in the Lower World."
He sipped his milk.
"No human will even remember that you existed," he added. "This place—it's a magical realm that connects to the real world. A mirror filled with things that should never exist."
He leaned back. "Tell me, Jolly... who am I?"
,"Elandor. From the Silver Sun Orphanage. You slept to the left of me before I was adopted." Jolly answered.
Elandor laughed, a mix of warmth and pain in his voice. "Correct."
He tilted his head. "You know, we met three times after I died. That time, you didn't recognize who I was. That kinda hurt."
"I finally remembered that I met him two months ago, but at the time, I didn't know he was Elandor." Jolly murmured.
There was a silence, then his tone darkened.
"Just like that— After resurrection, humans forget the resurrected; however, the resurrected remember everything" He continued
Jolly's brows furrowed. "Is that why...?"
"I searched for you at Graveshallow Manor," Elandor said softly. "No one knew your name. That's when I realized—you'd been infected.
"Getting wiped from the Graveshallow family—the most prominent house in Arkana, and the Queen's own right-hand stylists? I truly feel sory for you"
Jolly smiled faintly, but his expression soon faded. He lowered his gaze, a heavy feeling settling in his chest. The truth was cruel— No human would ever remember who he was. Now, he existed only as someone... new.
Jolly once again noticed something glowing in his chest as he lowered his head. He asked,
"What's this thing... shining in my chest?"
"That's your Cardbox," Elandor said. "Every resurrected gets one."
Jolly looked at Elandor's chest and saw his Cardbox was far fuller than his cardbox.
"You already have so many cards..."
"Yeah," Elandor nodded. "To get stronger, you have to collect cards and fill your Cardbox by completing Passages. The more cards you have, the more powerful you become."
"I see..." Jolly murmured. "Then... what's that power I saw earlier?"
"Water Bearer," Elandor said proudly. "It's tied to my Face Card—the Jack of Heart."
"Jack of Heart?" Jolly repeated. "Like a playing card?"
"You'll understand soon," Elandor said. "But first—you need to survive your Trial.The Cardmaster will reveal your Trial and the Passages. Do exactly as he says."
" Don't face strong Wonders like last time. You're still at Nothing rank. If you get help, your trial will fail. You have to kill on your own."
"But you killed that Wonder so easily… I don't know how, but I know you're a Novice—and the Jack of Heart."
"That's because we're both resurrected," he replied.
He stood, draining the last of his cup.
"If I tell you too much... it'll only make it harder for you."
Jolly took his cup, gently grasping the handle. With a soft smile and eyes closed, he said, "Even if I'm nothing... this knowledge is everything to me."
.....
It was 31:42 PM—midnight.
Jolly took his cane and a pistol from Elandor's room while he was away, then slammed the door shut behind him.
Outside, it was Eclipse season—the night darker than any other time of year. He carried a lantern in his left hand, its yellow glow casting long, uneasy shadows. His cane tapped in his right.
He headed toward Connecticut. He wanted to pass the trial as quickly as possible.
He passed the same place again—the alley with the table, where a group of middle-men once played cards. He raised his lantern. There—cards scattered across the ground. He frowned, bent down, and picked one up.
"Why would they just throw them here?" he muttered.
He pocketed it and moved on.
When Jolly finally reached Connecticut, the bell tower struck: exactly midnight.
He moved through the streets steadily, the lantern swinging low with each step. Then—a flicker. A shadow. That same flick he'd seen before.
He followed it.
The ground dipped into a darker path. What Jolly didn't see—beneath the flickering light—was a red line drawn before him.
He took a step forward, chasing the figure he thought he saw… and crossed it.
Jolly took a step forward.
The world trembled.
Everything around him shattered, glitching and whirring like a broken machine. The grayness peeled away, replaced by vibrant bursts of color—red, yellow, blue—like stepping into a twisted kindergarten classroom.
Then, it appeared.
A dreamscape unfolded before him—dolls, children's toys, plush animals—appearing, vanishing, moving in and out like data loading on an unstable screen. It was a mechanical wonderland.
Jolly stood motionless as the world spun and shifted around him.
Then, everything stopped.
Now, he was inside a massive room—bright, chaotic, alive with color. The walls were painted white, checkered with black squares, rising so high he couldn't see the ceiling. He walked through a narrow corridor, almost suffocating in its smallness, the towering walls pressing in on both sides. At the end stood a tall, brown door.
He opened it.
Inside was a small, cozy room. A single table, two chairs, red flowers blooming in a cracked vase. Dozens of clocks floated midair, ticking out of sync. Jolly entered, raising his cane. He tapped one of the floating clocks. It wobbled, fell for a second—then drifted back up like a balloon.
Another door appeared on the opposite side.
He approached it.
But a flicker of light caught his eye.
To his left, embedded in the white-and-black wall, was a large circular mirror. He stepped in front of it. His reflection stared back—still, distant. He leaned closer.
The surface rippled, like disturbed water.
Then—suddenly—a long, terrible hand shot out from the mirror, grabbing his arm, yanking him with inhuman strength.
Jolly struggled, pulling back with everything he had.
At last, he broke free.
Gasping, he turned and flung open the brown door.
On the other side—no room, no hallway.
It was outside.
A circus sprawled before him.
The circus was drenched in red and white—balloons bobbing in the air, decorations strung from every pole like a madman's festival.
A carousel spun slowly on its own, creaking, music playing in reverse. Around it, floating Jester masks circled in the air, cackling loud and horrible, their laughter echoing straight at Jolly.
At the center stood a large circus hut, striped in red and shadow.
Jolly stepped forward and entered.
Inside—darkness. Thick, heavy. He couldn't see a thing.
Then—one by one—spotlights flickered to life, illuminating the center stage.
There, standing tall, was a black rabbit. Not the soft kind—tall, humanoid, eyes glowing blood-red. It stared straight at Jolly.
"I'll let you have some fun," the creature said, voice smooth and cruel, "before you die in my domain."
He removed his black top hat with a flourish, and like a magician, pulled out a deck of cards. With a snap, he laid them neatly on the table beside him.
"Let's play Gin Rummy," he smiled.
"If you win, I'll let you live."