Shinbatsu sulked in a chair, waiting to report his undertakings of the past week to his higher ups. When he had first been assigned the mission, he hadn't taken it entirely seriously. He hadn't expected giant angler fish to try to rip his arm off. He hadn't expected the number of curios investigators trying to reach the bottom of the ocean that he'd run into. He hadn't expected the grave ship to be as run down as emptied as it had been described to be. And, above all else, he hadn't actually expected the coffin of the First King to actually be empty when he reached it.
The Chuunin watched as the ant he had brought in tried to make it to the other side of his hand yet again, thinking that would be its final escape. Once, humans had thought Ninpocho to be flat; perhaps, like this ant, they figured if they could just walk off the edge, they would finally fall to their freedom. To their great surprise, once they did reach the edge, humans, like this ant, found that their world had turned, and now what was the bottom had now become the top. A sphere in one case, a rotating plane in the other-- no difference. The Big Man was aware of all this, always, even before it happened. Shinbatsu frowned. The Big Man had made this happen. Why, he wondered, would one thing be purposed to a false end? Why was everything a cycle? It didn't make any sense, but in his limited wisdom, Shinbatsu knew that he was lucky to even understand as much as he did.
The week had not been easy. He had done a lot of investigation, a lot of question asking, and a lot of personal interrogation. There were many, many people investigating, and Shinbatsu had tracked down every one of them and found out everything that they knew. He wasn't cut out for this job. Nobody was. There was no trail, there were no leads, and there was simply no evidence that anything had ever happened in the Undersea. The authorities had said that there was evidence that the ship had been looted, but that statement was uneducated to say the least: the ship looked like it had been the way it currently slept for the entirety of its existence, and the fish shared that trait with the late grave of the King. Whatever was going on was unholy, but it wasn't the act of ordinary men; the thought of Genjutsu crossed Shinbatsu's mind, but the jaws of a fish usually no bigger than his torso closing in on his arm like it was a french fry made him think otherwise.
He didn't know if they'd believe him, but he had traced every possible source there was to trace, he had asked every possible source there was to ask, and he had done every possible thing there was to do: something was happening, but it was brewing, and there was nothing he could do about it now. In his professional opinion, the First King had business to settle, and they would just have to wait to see what that was.
[MFT]
The Chuunin watched as the ant he had brought in tried to make it to the other side of his hand yet again, thinking that would be its final escape. Once, humans had thought Ninpocho to be flat; perhaps, like this ant, they figured if they could just walk off the edge, they would finally fall to their freedom. To their great surprise, once they did reach the edge, humans, like this ant, found that their world had turned, and now what was the bottom had now become the top. A sphere in one case, a rotating plane in the other-- no difference. The Big Man was aware of all this, always, even before it happened. Shinbatsu frowned. The Big Man had made this happen. Why, he wondered, would one thing be purposed to a false end? Why was everything a cycle? It didn't make any sense, but in his limited wisdom, Shinbatsu knew that he was lucky to even understand as much as he did.
The week had not been easy. He had done a lot of investigation, a lot of question asking, and a lot of personal interrogation. There were many, many people investigating, and Shinbatsu had tracked down every one of them and found out everything that they knew. He wasn't cut out for this job. Nobody was. There was no trail, there were no leads, and there was simply no evidence that anything had ever happened in the Undersea. The authorities had said that there was evidence that the ship had been looted, but that statement was uneducated to say the least: the ship looked like it had been the way it currently slept for the entirety of its existence, and the fish shared that trait with the late grave of the King. Whatever was going on was unholy, but it wasn't the act of ordinary men; the thought of Genjutsu crossed Shinbatsu's mind, but the jaws of a fish usually no bigger than his torso closing in on his arm like it was a french fry made him think otherwise.
He didn't know if they'd believe him, but he had traced every possible source there was to trace, he had asked every possible source there was to ask, and he had done every possible thing there was to do: something was happening, but it was brewing, and there was nothing he could do about it now. In his professional opinion, the First King had business to settle, and they would just have to wait to see what that was.
[MFT]