"Then, I assume there’s something else you wish to say. I doubt the Dragon Sparrow would personally visit just to invite a Windwhisperer for a routine mission." As a heavyweight disciple of the Jigsaw Sect, Mirror October’s presence here clearly carried deeper purpose—especially given the Sect’s nature. Even if he were its founder, Dragon Sparrow’s involvement hinted at unspoken matters.

The Jigsaw Sect wasn’t a rigid hierarchy. It was a gathering of like-minded souls united to reshape a cruel, unjust world. Mirror October merely stood as its ideological pioneer and de facto leader due to his unique position.

Watching the slender youth outside the car window, Dragon Sparrow’s dazzling smile dimmed slightly, a trace of gravity bleeding through. He’d come for another reason entirely—a precedent-shattering case demanding the Saw’s judgment before they could proceed. No one else had the authority to dictate the Sect’s path.

"Typical Saw. Standing before you always feels like being stripped bare." Dragon Sparrow knew well the terrifying depth of Mirror October’s insight into human nature. No matter how many times they met, he could never remain composed under those crimson-red eyes.

"You’re right. There *is* something critically important."

Dragon Sparrow’s expression hardened. Shadows behind him writhed as a scarred, suture-stitched arm slowly emerged from the darkness, offering a densely handwritten note. For sensitive matters, he trusted paper over digital traces.

Seeing his disciple so grave, Mirror October’s narrow eyes narrowed slightly. This was the man who grinned sunnily at blood-soaked torture tools—who could unsettle *him*?

"...Interesting. Isn’t this our next game participant?"

"A corrupt coal baron. Routine target—until his illegal mine collapsed months ago." Dragon Sparrow shrugged helplessly, a flicker of gloom darkening his features. "Ironic, isn’t it? Rescue efforts at the collapse site have just begun. Hah. Correction: body recovery."

Scanning the note detailing the man’s atrocities, Mirror October felt no rage. His gaze remained glacial, dissecting the beast beneath human skin. Letting emotion taint their ideology would corrupt it.

"Our field team secured unedited footage. Guess what happened down there." Dragon Sparrow’s head drooped, a malicious smirk playing on his lips as he baited the Saw to imagine the horrors.

"Wendigo."

"Hah! You always ruin the fun." Dragon Sparrow’s enthusiasm deflated. Working alongside the Saw too long made one question their own intelligence.

Wendigo—a monster from Algonquin legend, born when starving humans turned to cannibalism. Mirror October’s single word confirmed the unspeakable: miners had eaten each other alive.

"Recovery teams found only corpses. Forensics showed survivors initially huddled in safe zones... but with no food." Dragon Sparrow’s gaze drifted. He pictured sanity unraveling minute by minute in that tomb. No one starves quietly—hunger drives even the sane to madness.

"I wouldn’t trouble you otherwise. I visited the site myself. I sensed the stirrings of a Dire Calamity there. If our research holds, this could be the first human-triggered Calamity. Which means... endless disaster."

Time froze. Under the blazing sun, icy dread climbed Dragon Sparrow’s spine. Finally, Mirror October spoke softly. "This was inevitable. Our work only delays the mechanism’s full eruption—"

"And the future?" Dragon Sparrow interrupted, daring to challenge a fellow believer.

"We’re not guardians or nurses. Dragon Sparrow, pity is a luxury that drowns the weak. I won’t watch you lose your way." The Jigsaw Sect guided and punished—it never coddled.

Haunted by nightmares of sand-choked mouths and gnawed finger bones, Dragon Sparrow had come seeking clarity. "My heart and actions are clear as a mirror; my deeds are just. Your heart still wavers." That was why he’d sought the Saw—this near-prophet of their faith.

"Go. Time alone holds your answer."

Mirror October withheld his own convictions. Forcing his shadow onto others was unjust. He craved a garden of diverse thoughts, not clones.

"...What of the coal baron? His money has silenced all witnesses. Without us, he’ll walk free."

"Time," Mirror October repeated, his smile suddenly, unnaturally warm. Humanity called Dire Calamities disasters for their slaughter—but never questioned *why* they arose. To reject without understanding? That was beastly.

Dragon Sparrow asked no more. He would witness Saw’s answer with his own eyes.