Chapter 6: The Astral Visitor

“What is an Engkanto doing here…?”

Lirika’s voice cut sharp through the sterile hospital air. She narrowed her eyes at the man—no, not a man. The inhuman glow in his irises said it all: a golden flicker unnatural for any mortal. His hand hovered just above Silay’s chest like he was about to breach flesh and bone.

When he didn’t answer, she immediately raised her arm, fingers forming a loose seal.

“I’ll be exorcising you then.”

From the pouch tied to her wheelchair’s armrest, she pulled a folded strip of old cloth, inscribed with scripture in baybayin, handed down by her grandmother. Her lips began to shape the words, slow and deliberate, as she brushed the cloth across her palm. A warmth flared at her fingertips, visible only to the gifted. Her voice thickened with old power.

But before she could complete the chant, the engkanto lowered his hand, pressing it closer to Silay’s chest—his intention unclear, but suddenly more dangerous. She sensed it: he wasn’t going to attack. He was going to give something.

Lirika froze, breath catching in her throat.

He was trying to pass spiritual energy.

To Silay.

“No—!” Her voice cracked. “D-Don’t pass your spiritual energy to Dr. Silay... he’ll die. Stop it, what do you want from him?!”

Her spell faltered. Her grip on the old cloth trembled.

She couldn’t read his spirit. Couldn’t tell if he was a threat, a protector, or something else entirely.

But if he forced spiritual power into Silay’s broken vessel, it would shatter.

He wouldn’t survive.

Abruptly, the door behind Lirika clicked shut, and her wheelchair lurched forward on its own, rolling closer and closer to the man disguised as a human. A creeping uncertainty brewed in her chest; fear, real and raw, as the wheels continued without her control.

The man stared at her now. His golden eyes had dimmed, like fading lanterns.

To Lirika’s disbelief, the Engkanto pulled out a phone and began typing.

She blinked. Her confusion deepened.

Since when could spirits hold tangible objects so easily? Was he that powerful? He blended in so seamlessly. Could he be… more than just a malevolent entity?

Her gaze darted to Silay, unconscious and unmoving.

Just where did you go that day to attract such a troublesome being?!

The man lowered his phone and showed her the screen.

(Are you… a shaman?)

Lirika tilted her head, uncertain, then slowly shook it.

He mirrored her movement, head tilted in thought, before typing again.

(You’re brimming with spiritual energy, though. Does your family no longer practice such things?)

Lirika awkwardly straightened in her chair. “W-Well! Thank you for noticing that I am indeed a bearer of great spiritual energy!” she said, with some forced pride. “But... normal humans can’t contain this much anymore. The powerful ones, those days are long gone. We’re just alagads now. I’m just more gifted, yes! That’s it!”

The man studied her for a moment, then typed once more.

(You said you’d exorcise me, though.)

“It's not like I’m as powerful as the Katalonans!” Lirika flinched at her own outburst, rubbing the back of her neck. “Maybe I saw it wrong... Maybe you’re human too, like me. Just with a spiritual gift…”

Her voice trailed off.

The man nodded, then gently patted Lirika’s head—a gesture that only further puzzled and irritated her. He typed one-handed:

(You’re not wrong.)

Lirika’s eyes widened.

(I’m indeed an Engkanto.)

Fury flared behind her black irises. Without hesitation, she raised both hands, a surge of power bursting forth. Her fingers twisted into a sacred shape mid-air as scarlet patterns bloomed beneath her palms, sigils etched in moving light, not merely red, but seething like molten coals stirred in a ritual flame.

“You dared to deceive me!” she snapped.

The arrays flared, igniting a pulse that lashed toward him.

But the man vanished just before the light could trap him, reappearing on the other side of the bed in a blink. He stumbled, just slightly but quickly straightened, flashing a taunting expression that made Lirika’s brow twitch.

“You dare make fun of me?” she shouted, switching stance and forming a longer casting. “I’ll definitely exterminate you today, bewitching malevolent entity!”

The man stopped moving and raised both hands. Then, with exaggerated clarity, he began signing:

[I’m not a bEwItcHing mAlevOlenT EnTitY. I have a name, idiot. It’s Suliyao!]

He ended the signs with a pointed glare, then tucked his phone back into his coat.

Lirika paused, eyes narrowed in surprise. “What now, going to counter with a spell?!”

Suliyao sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead. Of course she didn’t know sign language. She’d been making intricate hand gestures, sure but they were all casting sequences. Not for communication. Not for understanding. Just to get rid of him.

He opened his mouth to speak, though as always, no sound came out.

His vision swayed.

Urk… looks like using my abilities from my non-human side still doesn’t work in my favor… 

He braced a hand on the wall, but Lirika’s next volley scorched the air near his temple, nearly catching his hair. He ducked, teeth grit in irritation.

If the girl could walk, Suliyao would have been long dead!

Incantations kept coming, one after another. Sigils flared like brand marks across the room, and even the walls began to crack. Burn marks crawled up the corners. Curtains curled inward. The air thinned with spiritual pressure.

Both of them were running low.

Suliyao’s chest rose and fell, slower now. If she cast one more spell like that, he’d either be exorcised or forced to use something much more dangerous. He raised a trembling hand, maybe just to mimic her and throw a defensive sigil.

But his body refused.

Even my human side doesn’t want to play nice…

The girl’s final incantation glowed above her shoulder, brimming with collapsing energy. Suliyao braced for it.

Fine, I’ll take the hit. If I get sealed, I get sealed.

Then—

The light flickered.

Then flickered again.

But it didn’t return.

Instead, the air thickened. Still. As if the room inhaled and forgot how to exhale.

Lirika’s final spell, once blazing in midair like a seal carved from ember and blood, froze. The crimson arcs stilled; unmoving, humming softly as if stunned by a greater force.

Then, above Silay’s body… something rose.

It did not burst from him, nor tear from his chest. No dramatic recoil. No sound. No glory.

It simply appeared, like a memory surfacing in a dream.

A figure drifted upward, shimmering faintly in a soft, silver-blue glow that barely touched the floor. His body looked human, but only just. His garments hung like smoke trapped in a shape, threads of light curling around him like stars reflected in still water.

His long, dark hair floated behind him, unaffected by gravity. His eyes opened slowly, as though waking from centuries of sleep, and cast a calm, archaic gaze over the room.

Everything was silenced.

The crimson sigils dissolved.

The air cooled.

The man’s eyes fell on Suliyao first. A flicker of relief crossed his face, his voice a gentle breeze cutting through the stagnant air.

“You’re finally here...”

He smiled so softly, as if he knew. No joy. No sorrow. But something in between, long-held and sacred.

Then, his attention shifted to Lirika.

She could barely move. Her limbs locked in place, her breath caught. Not that she could walk in the first place but it felt like all of her limbs turned into jellies. 

The figure stepped forward, light with no weight, each movement sending tiny ripples through reality itself. He reached out, brushing a few strands of her hair aside before his hand rested gently against her cheek.

“I’ll definitely cure you this time.”

His words whispered not through air, but straight into her spirit.

And then…

He was gone.

As if he’d never been there.

The lights surged back. The air turned mundane. The walls remembered they were just walls again. Only the aftermath of the battle remained. Charred sigils, scorched tiles, and Lirika’s cloth on the floor with fading baybayin.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The alarm blared overhead. The red light of the CCTV blinked alive.

Lirika and Suliyao froze.

They stared at each other.

Then at the camera.

“Shit.”

[You’re in trouble.]

* * *

The atmosphere in the small administrative room, probably the nearest thing this hospital had to an interrogation room, was thick with unspoken tension. One flickering ceiling light buzzed occasionally, not helping anyone’s nerves.

Lirika sat in her wheelchair, playing with her fingers like they were the most fascinating things in the world. She refused to look up. Not on the screen. Not at the officer. Definitely not at Hiraya, who sat beside her, forcibly smiling with a vein twitching near her temple.

Suliyao leaned back slightly, long limbs folded uncomfortably, as though shrinking would help him escape the very real possibility of getting arrested. Which, judging by the glare from the hospital security and the emergency response unit leader, was not too far from happening.

The officer clicked the keyboard a few more times before turning the monitor toward the group.

“I’ll just... play it again,” he said, his tone clipped, eyes unreadable. “Because I really want to understand what kind of reenactment of The Exorcist you were both trying to pull off.”

The footage played.

At first, everything looked... passable. Lirika raised her hand. Pointing at things. Gesturing. A lot.

“To anyone who doesn’t know,” the officer said slowly, “this looks like your kid was pretending to cast Avada Kedavra on the walls.”

Which would’ve been fine…

If the walls didn’t start burning.

“See here?” He pointed as red streaks and strange scorch marks manifested midair, with nothing visibly touching the surfaces. “She’s just waving her hands. But something’s clearly happening.”

Then Suliyao appeared in the frame. The moment he moved—teleported, rather—the video glitched. There was frame distortion, static, pixels warping like something crawled inside the feed and scrambled it from within.

Everyone blinked at the screen.

“...Sir,” one of the guards murmured, “what... was that?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” the officer muttered.

Then, more flickering. The entire camera went black for three full seconds. Silence. Then it flickered back on, with the room scorched, items knocked over, sigils still glowing faintly on the walls like graffiti that bled heat.

And yet, at the center of it all, Silay was still peacefully asleep, untouched.

The officer pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t even know where to begin with this.”

Lirika still refused to look up.

SLAM.

Hiraya stood up with a tight, bright smile that could kill someone if given form.

“Why were both of you playing tag inside an unconscious patient’s room?!”

Lirika flinched.

Suliyao blinked, about to soundlessly escape the room.

“Sit down, Mr. Suliyao Lipol.”

He sat back down. 

“You—! You’re not even supposed to be here!” Hiraya hissed toward Lirika, pulling out a sheet of permission slips that clearly didn’t include whatever unholy ritual had just happened. “What part of visiting your Doctor peacefully translated to blowing up half the recovery ward?!”

Lirika shrank further into her seat.

“I told you not to cast anything unsupervised! Although I could not see the spell itself, normal people would not be able to do this, Lirika!”

“But he was trying to put spiritual energy inside Kuya Silay—”

“Don’t you ‘but’ me! You're not in Luan Residence anymore, you’re in a private-run hospital! Ugh, you and your spiritual shit that only causes disaster. You better thank the Gods I can’t see what the two of you were actually doing!”

“And you—” Hiraya turned to Suliyao, who tried to disappear behind his own knees. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

Suliyao signed, fast, without caring whether they would understand his hands, [She started chanting, I panicked, and then she threw fire at me.]

Hiraya paused before signing back, [She did what?]

“I don’t understand what you two are doing, but if it’s about the sigils… Stop making it sound like I do that to everyone!!” Lirika cried out at last. “By the way, I didn't know you could sign, Auntie!”

The security team just stared at the trio, trying to figure out if a sitcom was unfolding or if they should call in an exorcist of their own.

The officer finally cleared his throat.

“So... does anyone want to explain the glowing person who appeared and shut down the CCTV? Or should I just write down ‘paranormal disturbance’ and call it a day?”

Silence.

Then Lirika raised her hand, very slowly.

“...It’s probably our family curse.”

The officer nodded slowly, sarcastic, about to note in need of psychological assistance. 

“Of course. Of course it is.”

The officer let out a slow, exhausted sigh and leaned slightly to whisper to his fellow officer beside him.

“Maybe we should report these three to be put inside the psych ward instead of prison,” he muttered, eyes still on Lirika, Suliyao, and Hiraya, who were now caught in a spiraling cycle of denial, finger-pointing, and accidental confession.

He made a vague rolling motion with his hand near his temple. “They all have loose screws.”

“Right,” the other officer nodded, eyes wide as he scribbled something down on a clipboard. “Also, we should probably tell the hospital to fix their camera’s connection and replace it with a new one to avoid glitching.”

“Yeah,” the first officer agreed, tone flat. “Before the next kid sets the walls on fire with interpretative dance magic.”

Author’s Note:

“How did Hiraya know Suliyao’s name?”

Ah, maybe when they were called at the office, the officers confirmed their identity?

Note:  When Suliyao Communicates…

Signing -  [Sample]

Phone - (Sample)

“Telepathically” - “Sample”

Thank you for waiting, Then So Be It will regularly update every Friday, 6 AM PST.