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The Spiritus

Unknown

Unknown

Aug 17, 2025

I woke up gasping. I must have fainted, and it had become the 10th hour. I searched for a lighter inside my pocket to get some light from it. I knew I should not get deeply involved in this, but I could not ignore it as well. The spirits, I felt, had been involved. You see, I still serve as a part of the anti-spirit squadron, and to investigate this must mean a whole promotion for me. My friend was the landowner, after all.

I sat down, and started to examine the body. It did not show any particular signs of physical resistance, so the death must have been quick. There were no poisoning signs as well. 

Then, I realized. The house was supposed to be perfectly isolated from spirits. This case started to resemble the sort of a locked room mystery. A grin, I thought, appeared on my face. It must have been from the shock, that I forgot. 

There were several spirits when I entered this house. Yet, their modus operandi remained a mystery to me. Without avail, I sat down, and lit a smoke. Even among the anti-spirit barriers known around the kingdom, this one was amongst the top. The military headquarters would throw hell at this if they were informed of it.

I felt drowsy, and started to feel lazy at the complexity. I relaxed my neck, and averted my gaze towards a door right in front. It felt similar, and I felt it was not an accident that it felt similar. I remembered, it was the door I saw when I hallucinated. When the spirits were around, and then I was running towards to take shelter. I felt a strong headache again. 

I got up quickly, and opened the door while putting up a barrier around me. It could well be the influence of the spirits, I thought, and the headache did indeed subside.

I opened the door with caution, and all there were were books. In fact, the entire room felt like a library. It was all too strange. It strongly felt I was guided here, not completely of my own free will. I roughly read some of the books, and they were about spirits. 

There were especially books which were banned from the military library, for being ‘blasphemous’ and ‘grossly misleading.’ They were about ancient history of spirits, and their mechanisms, which are still of study and not fully reviewed. Mostly anti-cultural comments were passed in these books, at least so I was informed.

“Who’s there?”

A voice came from within my ear. I hastily loaded my gun, and hid behind one of the shelves in the corner.

“Kircheis, seize this once!”

I saw a faint shadow enter the library, along with a creaking noise. I quickly set out a warning.

“I am Hermann von Harthenheigh, 2nd in the frontline command of the anti-spirit squadron! I am here on official investigation. You must not take anything from here.”

Suddenly, the faint shadow disappeared, and I could not sense anyone nearby. I walked away from the corner, and there was no one but myself.

The air started to feel ominous, and I started to realize that it had become the 12th hour. The hour of the Dusk must have now started to subside. Soon, no spirits will be here, and I will be able to feel the air wring. 

I had a premonition that the air would start to shriek again. It started to feel strange now, with no answers to avail from this case. It all started to feel futile. My zeal for a promotion quickly died out. Finding the solution to the basics of this case would be enough for me. I did not want to involve myself any further. With that, I started to walk towards the door of the library.

And, then I realized. The painting which I saw in my dream was right in front of me. I grabbed my head in despair, looking down to the floor. I could see the forest floor now, and the scenes quickly shifted. 

I felt the air shriek again, and the regret came to me that I could not save anyone. Everything slips from my hands. All I could do was watch, and do nothing about it. I started to weep, not knowing the reason behind it. Who were these people that I now remember that I did not save? Why did the dream feel nostalgic, and why am I reliving it right now? I could not tell.

I calmed myself, and hastily put a barrier to avoid any psychological interference even though there should be no spirits nearby. Yet, this feeling, and this experience was not ordinary. I knew it for sure. After not long, I was back in the library, standing near the door in frustration.

I remembered now one name from the dream which had struck to me. ‘Immanuel.’ I could not recognize that name, but I felt I had heard of it. Despite this name, I could not recognize any other names as well, which I seemed to know during the dream.

It was now the next day, and I felt tired enough to leave this case be. I could not find any answers, and the questions only increased. I felt at ease when I realized I could go back home, and say farewell to this mystery for all the pain it has caused.

While I was preoccupied with this, I was forced to avert my gaze towards the mirror that hung besides the main door. I had not noticed it earlier, but when I did, I was appalled. My face had changed completely, and it was completely unrecognizable.

I now understood clearly why the dream felt all too nostalgic. I was no longer myself. I must have fallen into sin after I opened the library.

Now, I knew my family would no longer recognize me. I had become nameless, and the world was unknown to me. The library, I thought, must have been forbidden to touch, and I knew of this fact. But, I could not avoid trying to save the town. I felt a nostalgic regret wrap around me. The names started to become familiar to me. They were all friends whom I cherished. What were these memories of this “friend”, then? How had I arrived here, without knowing this?

A name then came zapping through my mind, as if I knew of it well.

“Wolff Muller.” And, I knew it was my name.
the_mysteriousego
The_MysteriousEgo

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Within the occult of spirits and magic, Hermann finds himself to be the center of a series of incidents which blur the lines between reality and dreams. As the world around him becomes riddled with strange "sights" from his newfound power, he gains both the luck, and misfortune of being omniscient, at the price of rebellion against omnipotence itself.

While Hermann tries to solve the mystery at every step of the grand game, he not only becomes the puppet of other spirits who try to rebel against the Heavenly Lord, but he also becomes lost in the crux of time.

Similar to the symbol of identity he unwillingly inherits at the cost of rebellion, he becomes both the played, and the player of the orchestra. This is the story of "The Spiritus."
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