Shikkoku no Sharnoth: Memory of the Black King

~1721 AD, February. London~

──This was when the Lone King still sat on the Throne.
──This was in London, Britain.


It was a beautiful night.

There was no hint of the steel Steam Engines that rose from the chimneys of developed cities, no gray fog that corroded the lungs, and no gray clouds that would darken the sky day and night. Yes, it was an unclouded night in London. A thousand stars shone in the silent night sky, and together with the moonlight, they illuminated the darkness of London. Not to mention the mechanical towers, not even Tower Bridge No. 1, the silence surrounding the moonlit night, the smoky, unlined London.

Yes, no one would know it yet.

No one would know that the foreign land of Kadath would be discovered at the end of the Northern Sea, or that the entirety of the sky would be hidden following a technological revolution. Or perhaps that would be a different story if one were to have read the Book of Three Generations, but there was at least a single human here, at Buckingham House, where the vast palace would later be built at was who knew of it.

That's if they were a human, that is.

And this "man" clad in black was not. 


"Human"


The dark one spoke.

It was clad in black and a male-like voice, often described as a "him" or "man" yet it wasn't properly human. It was doubtful to classify them as a man or woman, much less a living thing. It was Black. However, that was merely something they could only be described as such. It was even doubtful if they truly existed, as those who saw them wondered if it was due to the opium burning around them and thus doubting their own eyes and sanity. It was simply black. Black like one would think of a shadow.

A Black monster.

Here, in the darkness of Buckingham House, where it was something like, stood before an elderly man.

The old man spoke to the monster.

It was as though they were calling out to a friend they once encountered on the edge of the continent.

"O' black thing. O' abominable thing. O' that which is on the Throne. Why have you reappeared in this distant land?"

"Because you are the one who has succeeded Saint George."

"You are a Dragon no longer, and I am now old. I have neither a blade nor a gun in my hand. Thus, I cannot kill you."

"Why?"

"'Why', you ask? That is a question I have asked God many times before. But recently, it seems I have finally found the answer to it."


"What is it?"


"I've lost myself."

Just a word---

Then, there was silence.

The figure of the old man who spoke with the thing in Black vanished without a trace in the darkness of the mansion's courtyard. Everything, not just his form but even his shadow, vanished. No. He was swallowed up in an instant. He was devoured. By whom? Naturally, by the "him" clad in starless Black. This was because of the Black one's absurd "arm" that enabled them to crush, chew, devour, and slaughter all things.

The "arm" which looked as though it tore the Black from inside instantly devoured the elderly man. There was neither a scream, accusation, confusion, hesitation, remorse, hatred, nothing exchanged between the murderer and the murdered.

However, the monster caused the human to "vanish".

However, that was that.

Then, the monster looks up to the sky. A short while later, there was a sound that resonated. It was certainly a physical sound accompanied by vibrations and not an inaudible voice it was until now. But there was no one to hear it.

Only the stars and moon heard its grief.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

~1905 AD, a certain month. London~

──This was when the Lone King still sat on the Throne.
──This was in London, England.


Top Floor of the Ritz London. Suite 1502.

That day, that time, the girl with the Golden Eye arrived at exactly the appointed time, but there was something that "he", the King in Black noticed that seemed slightly different than before. His range of perception were far beyond that of Humans and other ordinary creatures. For instance, even as he looked down upon the earth from atop Westminster, he took notice the facial expressions and movements of the girl with the Golden Eye that visited her, the basket that was in her hand, the gesture his attendant made in welcoming the girl, the faint sounds of the Crack Engines running within her body, and ah, beyond the spacious room, he could easily hear the sounds of Engines running in the Gurney's passing by and even the meows of a cat running down the back alleys above ground. Even then, there was hardly any emotion of a sort on his face.

He, the Black man that now currently goes by the pseudonym and appearance of James Moriarty, also known as M, was simply uninterested of anything that was happening on this earth.

The wind that blew in the sky, the water flowing on the ground. Just like them, he acknowledged the activities of the people and the appearance of the cities were just like those things: They were things that mattered not to him.

As it simply was in the past and present---

"Oh...uhm, this---"

"Pardon me. I will scan them. ---These are biscuits. Did you make these, Mary Clarissa?"

He could hear two voices. The girl and his attendant. It seems like the girl was discussing the contents of the basket she had brought with her, but naturally, he wasn't interested. Were it a knife, gun, or bomb that had come out of the basket, he would have merely uttered "hm?", and make a slight movement in his face. No, that might have been a weak reaction, but it was a little different concerning the abnormal behavior of the girl he called Kitten.

Yes. This girl was an exception to him.

Mary. Officially named Mary Clarissa Christie.

Although he was Black and not Human, he, now known as "M", sometimes reacted a little differently to the girl than usual. Even if he asked himself such a question on why that is, he wouldn't get an answer. However, it'd be different if one were to ask his attendant, Sebastian Moran, a woman dressed in a male military uniform, or more precisely, a specially made Engine Human in the form of a woman. It would be hypothetical if there was anyone able to find her, who uses a special device called Suggestion Camouflage to conceal herself from ordinary people's eyes. Yet, there existed someone who did ask his attendant, Moran. A person who called themselves Universal, a versatile and unparalleled genius Scholar, secretly showed himself to Moran in London's Western End despite living in the Desert City, who asked her in regards to the Black M and the girl she's with. This genius Scholar, who was able to slip through even the intentional web of the secret society known as the West India Company, who has an easy grasp over London, was replied by Moran saying, "There have been significant changes in my Master's behavior, words, gestures, and expressions.", to which he responded back, "I see. Understood. I'll be frank, I'm quite confused as to what you want me to do with this. If you ask me, I'd have already thought that black monster had changed when they come to pick you up. Alright. So what do you want me to do?". The second response had then been muddled about as her memory regarding the question and answer part had been overwritten through Machine Intervention, and with that, it was no longer in the Society's records. Naturally, the Black M could have sensed this using his tremendous sensing ability, regardless if the Almighty Great Scholar's ability would have tried to obstruct him but simply didn't bother with his expression that spoke of such a thing as meaningless---

Regardless, the reality of the Black Man's reaction was far from any normal Human being, especially towards Mary who was supposed to be one of those few exceptions.

"U-uhm...there was a mishap somewhere down the line, and the quantity of them became too much for me to handle, so I was hoping if you don't mind bringing some leftovers to you?"

"Thank you very much, Mary Clarissa."

He can hear two voices. The girl and his attendant. 

The Black him, M, leisurely strolls from the window overlooking the ground far below and sat down on the sofa to read the latest edition of TIMES without paying any mind or interest to them. Perhaps it's of anyone's concern if the human effort of making letterpress prints and its mass production were any more interesting than their conversation.

No one had anyway of confirming this unless they were Almighty.

However, he simply looks at the print in silence when---

"I don't know what came over me to bring this to you. I was, how do you say...? I lost myself, so I hope this isn't of any nuisance to you."

"No. Yes. Thank you very much, Mary."

---I lost myself---

The moment he heard that girl's words...

The Black him's gaze stopped right where M was following on the print.

It seemed that he recalled "something" at that time.

But even so, he still didn't say anything.

Without having a single change in his expression.

Just merely holding his gaze steady.

---The stars and moon were no longer there.

(Fin)