In the basement, Maggie and the others first noticed that the notes on their bodies were suddenly growing festering sores like Karen’s. Before they could react to what this meant, the infected notes began to collapse.
They had never seen anything before and immediately used all their strength to try to prevent it from happening.
But it was of little use.
The infected notes were inherently uncontrollable; the more they tried to harness them, the more they accelerated the process.
"No, no, no!" a male Player desperately pressed his hands against his skin, his eyes wide open, "Go back, go back!"
As disciples of Ulysses, they could accept death, accept sacrificing for Ulysses, for the final Chapter.
But they could not accept the departure of notes, which they deemed more precious than life itself.
The Player is supreme.
But only with notes is one a Player.
Without notes, what are they?
They didn’t dare to ponder this question, so they fought desperately to stop the collapse of the notes, with little success.
Thus, they knelt to the ground, as if grasping at a final straw, lifting their heads to pray to the Holy Light.
Praying for grace to descend.
"Why..." someone trembled as they spoke, "Why can’t I feel the presence of the Master?"
A simple phrase brought even greater despair and... fear to the Players present.
The Holy Sound Master did not respond.
It was not that grace didn’t descend; it was that there was absolutely no response.
Yet they were evidently standing beneath the Seven Sounds Temple; the ceremony had not ended, and just moments ago, they could feel the Master’s power, the Master’s presence.
But now, that feeling had vanished.
The Holy Sound Master.
"No, no, no... impossible." The most composed and devout among them, Maggie, could no longer maintain her calm. Her body trembled as she shook her head continuously, "The Master is everywhere, the Master is everywhere, the Master is everywhere!"
She repeated the phrase three times, unsure whether she was trying to convince the others or herself.
"The Master has always been here! We just can’t feel Him; it’s our problem!" she screamed, "It’s our problem!"
The basement echoed with her desperate voice, like a blind person who has just lost his light, crying out into the Darkness.
Then, she finally heard the "Voice of Hope."
"Wait, look, the notes of ’the final Chapter’ are unaffected!"
Maggie turned her head and indeed found that on the dust-covered body, aside from some fading, the Golden Score and notes remained largely intact, apparently unaffected.
"The notes are still here!"
Maggie shouted excitedly, and the others scrambled toward the body like wild dogs catching a scent.
"The Master hasn’t abandoned us!"
"Awaken him, and we can see the Master again! We can let the Master descend with grace!"
"Yes, we definitely can!"
But just as their hands were about to touch the body.
A white shadow swiftly darted over their heads, landing atop the body’s head.
The owl tilted its head, staring at them.
This left everyone utterly stunned.
Then, the next moment.
The body, sealed for years, slowly opened its eyes.
Ulysses slowly unfolded his hands from his chest.
On his chest were his notes.
Yes, he had exerted all his efforts to protect his notes.
But Ulysses did not feel relieved, for his notes had dimmed, their color so light that it seemed a rubber eraser could easily wipe them away.
Meanwhile, faint black spots lingered on the notes, like abrupt ink stains on a costly painting.
At this level, it was only slightly better than complete destruction.
And Ulysses, who might have been the most powerful Player of the Holy Sound at the moment, putting everything into it could only achieve this, so he couldn’t imagine what other Players who heard the final Chapter might be like.
"Is this what you wanted, Hewinia?"
Ulysses slowly spoke, his voice hoarse and aged as if he had suddenly grown two decades older.
"Is this what you wanted... to kill all the Players?"
He looked towards Hewinia in the distance.
At this moment, Hewinia’s body was completely rotten.
The virus was indeed targeted at the notes.
But Hewinia had seven notes.
Now, all these notes were destroyed, turning her flesh black, while her inherent Golden Score also suffered, like chaotic, snapped strings of a harp.
The destroyed score left her unable to maintain Hewinia’s appearance, reverting to her true self, with long hair as bright as blood, now dirtied by pitch-black blood, and her sole remaining black eye lost its gleam.
If others could survive by forfeiting the destroyed notes, then for Hewinia, it was impossible.
She could die at any moment, so much so that Ulysses couldn’t be sure if she could hear him.
Fortunately, she could.
She slowly blinked to respond to Ulysses.
"I don’t understand." Ulysses asked, "Why are you doing this? What exactly do you gain? What exactly do you want?"