Eldritch Horror Theatre

A Lighthouse? And it shines?

So it really was meant for guidance. This resonance across time felt rather nice.

The Person Behind the Door still spoke in riddles, but combined with that familiar shape, the words served as yet another confirmation for Fu Qian.

If the setup over in Moore—the Lighthouse on the eye of the Wise Dead—was truly related to this group, what exactly was their purpose?

He had wondered this earlier. Back then, he leaned toward the theory that they had found this place first, then returned to set up the structure.

They hadn’t found it by following the Academy’s intelligence as a clue.

It felt somewhat counterintuitive, honestly, but this victory of logic now seemed verified.

If it was set up afterward, it had to serve some purpose in keeping this place running normally.

And the Person Behind the Door had just agreed with him, frankly admitting that an individual in this place had no way of knowing whether they were a Shadow.

Faced with the paradox Fu Qian deliberately threw out, the entity had directed him here to receive the Lighthouse’s guidance, entirely confident it would solve the problem.In summary, the Lighthouse was meant to help confirm a person’s state? To check if they had quietly turned into a Shadow without realizing it?

”Stand on the Prism.”

As his thoughts raced, the Person Behind the Door prompted him again. He really was supposed to stand on that pattern.

”What, are you scared?”

It urged him impatiently.

Prism? To think they had chosen the exact same name.

This kind of emotional pressure never worked on Expert Fu.

For a moment, Fu Qian felt the resonance of a fellow academic researcher.

Back during the exploration in Moore, he had ultimately drawn inspiration from how the Starry Sky Prism was used. It sounded like this group had also named that eye the Prism.

”Not bad. It’s a fitting name.”

Without torturing the audience’s patience any longer, Fu Qian stepped directly onto it.

He even specifically adjusted his orientation to face the distant Moore.

The night remained pitch-black, and even the stars overhead seemed less vivid.

In this strange chaos, a beam of light piercing through would undoubtedly feel rather nice.

Only when lost in the vastness did one truly appreciate the value of guidance.

...

The air was quieter than the surface of the lake.

Professor Fu, always one with a strong sense of immersion, seemed to transform in that moment into a seeker of knowledge from many years ago, taking a brief rest in an unknowable dead end to examine himself.

His aura fit the environment so perfectly, so seamlessly natural, that it made one unwilling to make a sound and disturb him.

Of course, that definitely wasn’t the only reason keeping the audience quiet. Everyone was busy; appreciating an aura was one thing, but how could they forget what they were originally here to do?

Yet under that very premise, the silence grew increasingly suffocating. Everyone held their breath, staring unblinkingly as they waited.

And whenever it came time to test lung capacity, time always passed especially slowly.

Fu Qian chose to stay completely silent right when he shouldn’t be, standing there like a statue and piling extra pressure onto his audience.

”What’s going on?”

Eventually, someone couldn’t hold back anymore and let out a low growl thick with disbelief.

Almost a minute had passed, yet the figure with his back to them was still accompanied only by starlight.

Just like the Long Night a thousand years ago.

...

What was going on? A good question.

So, just like for the people over in Moore, seeing the Lighthouse wasn’t a good thing.

It felt a bit like being abandoned by the light, but for Fu Qian, the entire situation suddenly became much clearer in that moment.

The verification method proposed by the researchers was actually very unfriendly to an imposter like him.

After all, one fundamental question hadn’t been cleared up: if a person fell into the Shadow state, should they see the Lighthouse when standing here, or shouldn’t they?

Aside from knowing the Tower’s purpose, he knew nothing about this core design. He was practically a lamb waiting for the slaughter, completely unable to fake the result even if he wanted to.

Fortunately, after all the investigation and analysis along the way, he had gleaned a thing or two about the principles at play—

That Lighthouse only existed in Moore during the storm. Only someone whose balance of life and death had been broken could possibly enter and interact with it from the reality of Moore.

Thinking about it carefully, wasn’t it a bit like the Inverted Lake in front of him?

There had been nothing here the last time he visited, but this time, such a massive building had appeared.

Theoretically, it was also a switch between two opposing states.

So for Fu Qian, even before stepping onto that eye, he practically understood how the Lighthouse guided the lost—

The researchers had run into the depths of the Ash Sea to conduct taboo and dangerous research, meaning they definitely had to take some protective measures.

For instance, constantly verifying whether they had lost themselves.

And just like the Shadow state mentioned earlier, any self-examination originating from within would likely be useless.

In this case, the Lighthouse served as an external Anchor Point.

Through some special setup, the two could resonate with each other across vast distances.

The light shining would indicate one state, while the light failing to shine would indicate another.

As for how the two states corresponded—and which one meant something had gone wrong—he could already glean a clue from the audience’s existential doubts in this very moment—

They believed he was a Shadow, yet they couldn’t accept the fact that the light didn’t appear. That meant the two things were contradictory.

The Lighthouse only guided the lost. It seemed that standing here and attracting its illumination wasn’t actually a good thing.

And since their states were mutually exclusive: if he wasn’t a Shadow, then wouldn’t the Shadows be... them?

”It’s about time.”

Right then, Fu Qian turned around and called out to his audience.

”Impossible...”

”Something must have gone wrong over in Moore!”

”He must have tampered with it.”

His words instantly stirred up a fierce reaction.

...

What an accurate guess. Something had indeed gone wrong over in Moore.

With a mocking smile, Fu Qian looked like the victor of a Russian roulette game waiting for his opponent to pull the trigger.

Of course, amidst this high-pressure posturing, nobody knew that he actually somewhat agreed with their desperate wails.

Earlier, when leaving Moore, he had dismantled the core of the Lighthouse and brought it with him to find this place.

There was an almost one hundred percent chance that the researchers’ setup had completely lost its effectiveness.

So, they had guessed correctly. As a contestant, he had indeed tampered with it.

Regardless of whether a problematic state corresponded to the light turning on or not, his standing here would only result in one thing: no light.

”Whether I tampered with it or not, why don’t you come over and try it yourselves?”

Of course, they were all in this game. Cheating while destroying the opponent’s psyche had always been a classic combo.

As the audience’s desperate wails gradually subsided, Fu Qian followed up with a smiling remark.