Chapter 1.1
1.
The bar ăKyrieă was located in the downtown tavern district of Music Box City in the east.
The first time A heard the name Kyrie, they thought of an island nation that had once existed in the east but had since vanished. They werenât entirely sure, but the language spoken there seemed to have had a similar pronunciation. Because of this, A vaguely imagined the bar’s owner as being of East Asian descentâthough they quickly dismissed the thought.
Since the Cataclysm, the concept of race had disappeared. Over time, all races had mixed, losing their distinct characteristics. Language and culture had also been unified, leaving only one’s city of origin as a way to distinguish people. But even that held little meaning in Music Box City, where over 70% of its citizens were from other places.
A had discovered Kyrie purely by chance. They were always searching for something, which kept them wandering, unable to settle anywhere. Just when exhaustion had set in, they heard rumors of this establishment. Without hesitation, they set aside all other matters and made their way to Kyrie.
Even in the downtown area, land prices were high due to its classification as a commercial district. A cafĂ© with an inviting atmosphere might have been able to afford street-level space, but for a bar, it was more profitable to operate in a semi-basement or underground level. Kyrie was no exceptionâone had to descend underground to enter.
A paused briefly at the entrance, looking up at the bar’s sign. Inside a see-through black box, the name Kyrie was written in a deep wine-red color. A let out a sigh.
“Kyrie Eleison. So it was a Catholic term.”
Before the Cataclysm, Catholicism had included a short prayer called Kyrie in its Mass services. The phrase, “Lord, have mercy on us,” marked the beginning of this prayer, which was why it was also known as the Litany of Mercy. A chuckled to themselves.
“How ironic…”
Inside the black box, countless gears filled the space, with a small winding mechanism attached to the side. A wooden squirrel figurine holding an acorn sat atop the box. A turned the key, watching as the wooden squirrelâs tail bobbed up and down in a simple mechanical motion, mimicking the act of eating the acorn.
Descending the stairs, A found a modest space that was just as unassuming as the barâs sign. The walls and floor were black, as were the tables and chairs. The bar counter and horizontal support beams, appearing aged, were made of a dark wood similar in color to the floor, creating the impression that the entire space was a single, solid mass. Only the ceiling stood out, painted a stark white.
One could call it minimalisticâor plain and uninspired. A hadn’t come here in search of a good time, but still, they couldnât help feeling slightly disappointed.
However, the ceilingâs mechanical gear system caught their interest. Several chandelier-like fixtures hung from the ceiling, with colorful birds perched among them, occasionally fluttering their wings or tilting their heads.
Of course, these were not real birds. They were finely painted mechanical automatons. The exposed winding mechanisms on their partially extended wings made that clear. Though the exact power source was unknown, it was evident that the slowly rotating metal gears pressed against the ceiling were responsible for their movement. There were even small mechanical birds that glided along the ceilingâs track, following the direction of the turning gears.
As A sat hesitantly in an empty seat, surveying the bar, they noticed a long pendulum hanging in one corner of the wall. It seemed that pulling it downward would set the ceiling’s winding system in motion.
The pendulum was intricately carved into the shape of a pineconeâthe fruit of a species of pine tree that had gone extinct long ago.
“This must be your first time here.”
A woman sitting at a nearby table spoke to A. In front of her was a nearly empty glass, with only the ice remaining. A nodded.
They were the only two seated at tables. The other patrons were gathered around the wooden bar counter, chatting with the bartender. The bartender seemed unfazed, handling three guests at once without showing any signs of fatigue, smiling all the while.
“Is that bartender the only one here? What about the manager?” A asked.
The woman laughed before answering.
“It’s a small bar. Most people just come for quiet conversation and then leave, so one person is enough. But if there were five or more customers at once, it might get overwhelming. For now, just take a look at the menu. Since Iâm ordering another drink for myself, I can put in your order too.”
She seemed to be a long-time regular at Kyrie.
As A flipped through the menu, the first thing they saw was a large heading: âKyrie â Perfectly recreating the atmosphere of the pre-Cataclysm era.â True to those words, the next page listed a selection of cocktails that had been popular before the Cataclysm. It wasnât particularly surprising. A short walk through downtown revealed countless establishments trying to capture the essence of the old world. It seemed that retro styles were in vogue.
Feigning interest in the menu, A subtly eavesdropped on the conversation between the bartender and a customer. The bartender, with dark brown hair, wore a typical outfit seen in the areaâa crisp white shirt, black vest as dark as the floor, black-rimmed glasses, and…
A gold ribbon choker?
For a moment, A blinked, wondering if they had mistaken it for a gold chain. But noâwhat they had seen was correct.
Most bartenders in this district either wore a neatly tied black tie or left the top button of their shirt undone. But this bartenderâs neck was wrapped several times in a golden ribbon, tied into a delicate bow. Under the ceilingâs light, the golden fabric gleamed as brilliantly as a jeweled necklace.
T/N: Due to the nature of the Korean language, gendered pronouns arenât necessary even in narrative text like this, so the chapter flowed well even without revealing much about âAâ. Their pronouns will stay as they/them until more information is revealed.
