Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 88: Ch86. Pain as a teacher (10) - A path to be walked alone

Chapter 88: Ch86. Pain as a teacher (10) - A path to be walked alone

Miles stood frozen as The Archivist’s words hung between them, her unreadable gaze locked onto him. The weight of her demand pressed against his chest like an unseen hand, clawing at his ribs.

If it was even a demand.

He needed answers, and he had put knowledge on the line. The only problem was...

"You want knowledge," she said, tone measured, deliberate. "But knowledge has its price. And I don’t think you have taken into consideration that I might know more than you can fathom, have you, [Harbinger]?"

Sarissa tensed beside him, her sharp eyes flicking between The Archivist and Miles, though she said nothing. Mara, however, scoffed, arms crossing over her chest.

"Whatever mess you have just put yourself into, Harbinger, count me out." she muttered.

The Archivist ignored her. Instead, she lifted a pale hand and pointed toward the door.

"You two. Wait outside."

Sarissa narrowed her eyes.

"No. If you think I’ll-"

"I will not ask twice, Andreadis." The Archivist’s tone held no malice, but something deeper, something that made the air around them feel heavier. "This is not for your ears."

A long, unbearable silence stretched between them. Then, after a moment of hesitation, Sarissa exhaled sharply, her displeasure evident. She glanced at Miles once before turning on her heel and stalking toward the door. Mara followed without protest, though she did throw a smirk over her shoulder at Miles before stepping out.

The iron door sealed shut behind them, and Miles swallowed hard. He was alone with her now.

"You already know, don’t you?" Miles asked, keeping his voice steady. "What I am."

The Archivist leaned back in her chair, the dim candlelight casting eerie shadows across her face.

"Yes, [Harbinger of the End]."

The words sent a shiver down Miles’ spine. No one had ever said it outright like that before. Not even The Hatter.

"Then tell me what that means, please!" He pressed, stepping forward. "What am I supposed to do with that? What does it mean for... For The Glitch, if it even means something to it..."

"That, I cannot tell you." She shook her head.

"Why not?" Miles clenched his fists.

"Because some things cannot be given. They must be discovered." Her violet-tinted gaze bore into him. "If I were to hand you every answer now, you would shatter beneath a tenth of their weight. The truth of yourself, of what you are... It must be earned."

"So then what do you want from me?" Miles exhaled sharply, frustration coiling inside him. "I mean... If you already know what I am, and that was the token I was planning on giving in exchange for your answers... Then what else can I give now...?

The Archivist tilted her head ever so slightly, and a slight chuckle echoed from behind her lips.

"Oh, but you do have something. And rather than what I already know and see in you, I am more interested in what I cannot."

Miles’ breath hitched. The meaning behind those words crawled up his spine, cold and insidious.

"Show it to me." She said, her voice even devoid of emotion.

Miles stiffened. He didn’t need to ask what she meant, because he already knew. The Hatter had been quiet since they entered this place, but he was always there, lurking in the shadows of his mind.

He closed his eyes, reaching inward, and for a brief moment, everything was silent.

Then, like a pulse of static, the presence within him stirred.

’Ah... So she wishes to see me?’ The Hatter’s voice curled through his thoughts, amused. ’How forward of her.’

Miles’ breath came shallow as the sensation coiled around him, seeping outward.

The air in the chamber grew colder, heavier. The candle flames flickered violently, struggling against the unseen force spilling from him.

The Archivist remained still, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. And then she moved.

No.

The world moved.

A force unlike anything Miles had ever felt before crashed down on him. His body locked up, his limbs freezing in place, his breath halting in his throat. It was as if reality itself had folded around him, suffocating, suppressing...

Erasing.

The Hatter screamed.

It wasn’t just a voice in his head anymore. It was real, visceral, raw agony leaking into the air around them. The presence that had once been so overbearing, so insidious, and omnipresent, was suddenly crushed under the weight of The Archivist’s power.

Miles gasped, his knees buckling. He barely managed to keep himself standing, sweat beading down his forehead. The Hatter’s influence was still there, but it had been forced into silence, completely suppressed for the first time since Miles had inherited it.

He had never thought that was possible.

"Interesting..." The Archivist studied him for a long moment before finally speaking. "However, you are not strong enough to fight for the right to this legacy."

Miles’ breath caught in his throat, the words hitting deeper than he expected.

"And even less so to fight the enemies that you are bound to face, in the search for the remaining [Hidden Pieces]." She continued, her voice unwavering. "Let alone the one you are bound to face soon... You walk the path of ruin, yet you do not yet possess the strength to wield its burden."

"Then... What do I do?" Miles swallowed hard.

The Archivist leaned forward ever so slightly, her gaze unreadable.

"You must depart from here. From Sarissa. From Mara. From Diego."

His heart clenched at the mention of Diego.

"And where the hell am I supposed to go, alone like that?"

"To Wonderland." The Archivist’s lips barely curled at the edges, her expression unreadable.

"You’re joking." Miles felt like he had been punched in the gut.

"I do not joke," she said flatly. "Within Wonderland lies what you need to grow stronger. You are already bound to it, but you have yet to claim it as your own. You must master it, or it will master you."

"And if I don’t go?" Miles’ fists trembled.

"Then you will remain as you are. Weak. Incomplete." She rose from her seat, her presence looming. "And when the true war begins, you will be nothing more than a pawn to forces beyond your comprehension."

"And if I go...?" His throat felt dry.

"Then you will return stronger enough to face the trials ahead of you." The Archivist’s violet-tinted, milky eyes met his, unwavering. "Or you will not return at all."

A heavy silence stretched between them.

Miles’ pulse pounded in his ears. The thought of leaving, of abandoning Diego, even temporarily, felt wrong. But deep down, he knew she was right. He wasn’t strong enough, and he was bound to face the challenges Wonderland still had to throw at him, whatever they were.

The Archivist stepped back toward her desk, placing a hand on one of the many tomes stacked there.

"The choice is yours, [Harbinger]." She glanced at the heavy iron door behind him. "But if you are to survive, you must be willing to walk alone."

Miles exhaled slowly, the weight of the decision settling deep into his bones. His fists clenched, his gaze hardened. A lone journey to Wonderland.

He did not know what waited for him there, but he knew one thing for certain.

If he didn’t take this chance, he would never be strong enough to face what was coming.

And he refused to let this world decide his fate for him.

Before turning to leave, though, Miles broke the heavy silence.

"Do you mind if I ask you one last question?" His voice trembled ever so slightly, and The Archivist simply nodded.

"You’re blind, aren’t you?" The Archivist said nothing. "And your powers... They’re somewhat related to the Seers in the Hall, am I wrong?"

She let out a small chuckle.

"So that’s what they call themselves...?" She paused for a brief moment. "You’re cleverer than you give yourself credit for, Harbinger. Use that cleverness to survive."

Miles smiled faintly, and without another word, he turned, stepping toward the iron door.

The path had been set.

And he was going to walk it.

Alone.