Industrial Cthulhu, starting from the island lord

Chapter 22 Intermission, To Investigator Beatrice
The metal button was pressed, the gears engaged with the drive shaft, and the copper molds engraved with letters clattered on the parchment like raindrops falling from the sky.

"Beatrice, I'm sorry. I'm writing to you to ask you to do something for me."

"What makes me feel even more guilty is that I still can't tell you too much. You know, I'm the church's secret keeper."

"But I heard you passed the test and became an investigator... I can't describe how I feel when I heard this news. You've always been a curious child. If it's as you wish, you'll be closer to the truth."

"Anyway, congratulations. I've been busy with church affairs. I promised your mother to take care of you, but I haven't been able to do much."

"My own situation isn't very good either, especially recently. They said the way I executed a cultist was too extreme..."

The parchment on the mechanical typewriter reached the bottom, and a pair of hands made up of gears and various mechanical structures pulled it out and put it aside. At the same time, two other arms, also made up of mechanical structures, skillfully took out a new piece of parchment, put it into the typewriter, and locked it with the lock to fix it on.

The clicking sound started again.

"They always have too many excuses, saying I've offended the factory owners, that this will worsen the relationship between the Queen and the Church... No one cares about what those cultists are like."

"Damn it, how did the church become like this!"

The red hooded figure stopped typing, shook his head and sighed.

"He was an extremely dangerous cultist, and the pollution he brought was extremely terrifying... But fortunately, I have already executed him."

"But some workers were still contaminated. My proposal to purify them all was rejected by the church leaders. They only agreed to exile these workers."

"That's what I ask, Beatrice. Please monitor them for me and make sure the contamination is stopped and doesn't spread."

"They will be exiled to the border of the empire, reportedly to an island."

"Believe me, Beatrice, being away from the center of the empire is not a bad thing, especially at this time."

"I know you've just become an investigator and want to go on an adventure and see the real world."

"But the dangers of this world are always beyond your expectations. Even speaking out some things is a form of pollution."

"This is also the reason for our existence as secret keepers."

"In short, stay away from here, away from the Rhine, away from the empire. The queen's ambition is too great, perhaps it will take the entire empire to fill it."

The fingers tapping on the keyboard stopped, the priest sitting at the table stretched, and then reached for the teacup on the table.

Pale fingers grasped the teacup, which contained steaming black tea. This was a custom passed down from the New World, where people would use a cup of hot tea to relieve fatigue.

The priest took sips of the scalding hot tea. The mechanical arm behind him switched to a screwdriver amid the sound of gears turning, and deftly opened several mechanical covers on his body.

The other arm picked up the engine oil and poured it into the hole reserved under the cover.

The priest put down his teacup and continued typing on the typewriter while leaning over the table.

At the same time, the mechanical arm on his back did not stop moving at all, and was quickly maintaining the mechanical parts of his body, accurately and silently.

"Stay on that island for a while, it's very safe there."

"Don't slack off on your duties. Keep an eye on those contaminated workers. If they show any signs of abnormality, tell me immediately."

"If the contamination is uncontrollable, do not hesitate to implement the decontamination process immediately."

"Don't be complacent, don't hesitate, and don't be misled by appearances. Many cult members don't appear to be evil, and some may even be kind by nature, but this doesn't stop them from harming the world."

The priest stopped moving again. He seemed to have thought of something and was quietly recalling the past.

After a long moment, he finally let out a long sigh. His pale fingers picked up the teacup, and after taking a sip, he realized the tea had gone cold.

He shook his head and continued typing.

The mechanical arm behind him had already lifted up his robe and started cleaning the pipes on his thighs.

His skin was so pale that it seemed a little sickly, making the metal components embedded in it look even colder and harder.

"You don't have to worry about me. The church has arranged administrative leave for me. I will find a beautiful place to recuperate for a while, uh, stay out of the limelight."

"I haven't decided where to go yet. Maybe I'll go to the North. They say there are some unique folk customs there, and it seems some ancient relics were recently unearthed from the ground."

The priest scratched the skin on his back, where the mechanical arms had already begun to clean the bolts from his spine.

"Maybe people become nagging when they get old, but I still want to remind you of something."

"You may not understand the following things, that's okay, just remember them, there may come a moment when you need them."

"When you have time, you can read more doctrines, not just those of the Candlelight Society, but also the scriptures of the other four major churches. The church may conceal things, but it will not lie."

“When reason can’t help you make a judgment, trust your intuition.”

"Humans can be trusted. Trust humans."

"Nothing except humans can be trusted, whether it's a living being, a machine, or..."

The priest's typing fingers paused, and in the end he did not continue typing. Instead, he pulled the parchment and changed a line.

"No matter how friendly or reliable they are, don't trust them."

“Remember, the underlying color of this world is always madness.”

The mechanical arm's work seemed to be almost finished, and it began to climb up the priest's neck and tighten several screws embedded in the flesh.

The priest's letter came to an end, and he signed the last line.

"Cardinal of the Rhine Diocese, seventh-level priest of the Candlelight Order, and the 'Secret Keeper' Council..."

The priest's fingers paused, then he pulled the compression spring of the typewriter, took out the parchment stuck in the slot, crossed out the long signature, then put it back and typed the signature again.

"Your Uncle Jules."

He took out the parchment, wrapped the letter paper and poured sealing wax on it. Then he took out the sealing wax seal and pressed it on the sealing wax to seal the envelope.

On the sealing wax is a lit candle, which is the holy light of the Candlelight Society.

After finishing all this, the priest sat at the table in a trance, with the candlelight flickering beside him.

After a while, he seemed to suddenly think of something and slapped his head.

"I almost forgot about this. I'm really getting old."

As he moved, a crack appeared in the middle of his head and then split to both sides.

There was no flesh and blood inside the skull, but rather a jumble of steel parts, pipes flowing with various liquids, and some rotating mechanical structures, all of which replaced the original brain.

The robotic arm then reached in, tightened the screws, applied engine oil, and began maintenance.

(End of this chapter)