Chapter 12: 12. A Recovery Team is Deployed

A certain trio of wolf-eared girls found themselves standing on a wooden stage. The vibrant, orange theatre room was spaciously decorated with velvet curtains and floodlights. Surrounding them was a grand auditorium with countless thousands of empty seats.

On these curtains was the symbol of a cross brace and strings.

It was the insignia of Act X; one of the Ateliers of the Nexus which possessed a powerful, one-of-a-kind technology that no magic could ever dream of replicating.

“No one’s here. I forget how plain this place was. Is anyone going to greet us or is everyone still too busy with the Arbiter’s call?” Cer complained, her voice easily reaching the furthest expanse of this exceptional stage.

The three were still dressed in their receptionist outfits, but this time, they had their Atelier items equipped after their previous encounter with Beholder Marionette in a stage like this. Not face to face, however. The only Beholder they had ever seen in person was Galia, the founder of the Justica Arms and its Warped Stone technology.

Cer’s fangs glistened with an electric power as she permanently smirked in light of this place, scoffing at its simplicity. The red gloves that Ber wore occasionally saw arcs of electricity swirl like solar storms. Finally, floating just inches away from Res’ eyes were electrically charged lenses.

“We were summoned on short notice. The Upper Sanctums are in uproar after what just happened with the Star, Iscario.” Res reminded, her gaze falling somewhere to the empty seats where a presence could be sensed. “It’s here. Don’t say anything stupid, Cer. You too Ber.”

“I didn’t say anything yet.” Ber hummed. “Yet~” She tugged on her gloves menacingly.

“I’d like to see an Atelier receptionist try to fight a Moon.” Cer stretched her arms in disrespect as an entity slowly trudged through the red carpets from the auditorium towards the stage. “How rude of you to leave us here for 45 seconds. Tend to us faster next time, will you.”

“Shh. Show some respect.” Res hissed.

Spotlight instantly followed the being which was strung up by strings like a living doll. Where the strings originated could not be seen, for it existed in some other dimension unknown to all. Its feet never touched as its long, massive orange coat dragged along the pristine floorboards.

The figure eventually paused before them. It was a staggering 3 meters in height with 8 arms hidden underneath its cloak. It moved in a rackety manner, like one of an ill-oiled machine. This was an Insectid, a humanoid-insect race that saw heavy modifications to its body. Its eyes were soulless, driven by only the strings that dictated its existence.

Such was the being before them.

“Jesters… are here. The script tells of your… invitation. Shall we begin… the prologue…?” It spoke in short pauses, its jaw hardly imitating the words that left its carapace lips. The voice resounded within the theater, carrying an unknown power.

“Get this over and done with so we can join up with the party the Arbiter’s obviously throwing up there.” Cer said, taking one step forward. The size discrepancy was utterly staggering. She was like a grub in comparison.

Res needed to compose herself. She took a small breath spoke on behalf of themselves.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Stage Narrator. We were summoned to answer another call from Beholder Marionette. Can we assume you will answer in her stead given the circumstances of the Nexus?” She spoke with profession that her inept sisters were incapable of at a biological level, like it was some sort of allergen to them.

In fact, just seeing Res hold her hand across her chest and lightly bow caused their skin to crawl, and their faces to contort.

Idiots… and you two wonder why you get called the jesters all the time.

“Assume… you shall not. The script entails of what must be said… and what must be done… A Star of the Nexus has fallen… the Arbiter’s Trumpet classification… the Woe of the Fallen Star… third highest classification… behind Apocalypse… and Paradise Lost”

“Huh? Why’d he end up getting a risk classification pinned on him? All he did was steal infusion S and head over to Grandis. Big deal.” Cer brushed it off.

In truth none of the three knew the extent of Iscario’s betrayal. This was all the information they had to work on as they wondered why they were summoned here in the first place, aside from countless reports of misconduct. No thanks to Cer and Ber, of course.

“Direct causality linked to proposed death of Amalgam… destruction of 72 Relay Sites across Brandar… 21,380 deaths counted by Scarlet Logic units. 1,930 deaths belonging to Scarlet Logic itself. The attempt to intercept Iscario at… Relay Site bordering Brandar and Grandis… resulted in bolstering the tensions between both regions.”

Scarlet Logic was another Atelier that focused primarily on combat. While their forces were nowhere near as strong as the Moons, what they made up for it were sheer numbers. The Moons that did find themselves affiliated with them were known as Blood Moons, and Stars as Red Giants.

Simply put, Scarlet Logic was the official military of the Nexus, and acted as a hired arms for the other Ateliers when their own paramilitary forces were either ineffective or simply required backup.

They were always the first to arrive and the last to leave. Their rapid work allowed for the Blessing of the Nexus to gauge the risk classification of a given threat before it became official.

Needless to say, not many survived for long in this line of work.

“Alright, that checks out then. But 72 Relay Sites? C’mon. That has to be a joke, right?” Ber could not easily believe that the Relay Sites, which were among the most heavily resistant objects known in Elysia, were destroyed. “Right…?”

For reference, the Relay Sites were a combined effort from the Ateliers that utilized many aspects of their technologies. For so many to break at once meant that there was a critical flaw in its design, and Iscario had unfortunately discovered it before anyone realized this.

“Justica Arms investigation… pending. You jesters… are aware of your task?”

“Not in the slightest bit~!” Cer proudly announced, causing Res to grab her by the collar and pull her back in line. “Ouch Sis!?”

“Just shut up and listen.” Res snapped.

“Last… known contact… with the Amalgam. And extended contact. Addendum was added that you three… are likely to recognize the Amalgam’s appearance… for a retrieval mission.”

“Sorry, us?” Even Res was abruptly confused by this.

The Amalgam? What was that supposed to be? Rather, in the one hundred hours straight they had spent working as receptionist how were supposed to know who this Amalgam was?

“Jesters… The script is never wrong… you three are written here without doubt…” The Stage Narrator revealed an ethereal piece of paper, woven by a string that could not be cut, burned, or damaged in any way.

This was the technology of Act X; or more accurately, the product of their technology.

“So wait just one second. We’re being sent out instead of being invited to a highly confidential meeting with the Arbiter?” Cer, despite her words, sounded almost too elated by this.

“Indeed… Retrieval of Amalgam. Within 4 months… issued by Beholder Galia her humble self…”

“That snake has some good eyes for someone glued to that blind Arbiter.” Ber commented, also pleased that they were finally getting some ‘real’ work as Moons. “Can’t blame them for relying heavily on us. I guess we were too important for that meeting anyway.”

“Idiots, we were tasked with this because we’re easily the most expendable of all the Moons.” Res sighed. “Plus, we apparently know this Amalgam’s face.”

“OR we’re the most skilled for this mission. So, what the hell is this Amalgam anyway? Sounds like the Arbiter but with different letters.”

“Now that you mention it, you’re right sis!”

Please shut up. Res painfully grimaced in response.

“Could you please explain this Amalgam? We’re still unsure of what it is exactly.” Res cleared her throat, flickering through countless faces in her mind to try to pinpoint who of all the people they met was the Amalgam.

Cer and Ber could be seen doing the same, albeit haphazardly.

“The Archetype of the Floor of Amalgamation… A being similar to that of the Arbiter… meaning new Corrupted will come into existence… as more floors steadily open… The Mark of Judgement… may jog your memory.”

“Mark of Judgement. Judgement. Mark. Of. Hmm…” Cer thought aloud in a rather obnoxious manner, causing Ber to nod in response as she left the heavy thinking to her brilliant sister, all the while Res tried to drown out her words until suddenly –

“Mark… of… FROST!?”

“HEY! Don’t scream so suddenly, you sorry excuse of a Moon! I get it, you liked her eyes, but there’s no need to call out a girl’s name when –!” Res snapped as she clamped onto Cer’s shoulders with every intent to smash her skull into her own, but was quickly interjected by the voice of the Stage Narrator.

“Frost was the name of the… recently deceased… linked in time with the Awakening of the… Amalgam.”

“… that information would have spared us some time, don’t you think?” Res’ pleasant smile cramped.

“N-No way. That Frost? The one with the lost memories!?” Ber exclaimed in surprise.

“Our fucking ticket to heaven was right in front of us all along!?” Cer was devastated upon hearing this as she grasped at the air. “She really was a lottery ticket! Ugh… So she was the Amalgam all along, huh. Heh. I thought her eyes were strange. Looked like she wanted to eat me or something.” In the span of only 3 seconds, Cer somehow went through all stages of grief and found a silver lining; that Frost wasn’t a human at all.

“Oh. She’s fine again.” Ber said half bemused by Cer’s antics.

“… Cer, do you even hear yourself speak?” Res sighed.

“What. I’m serious. Didn’t you get that tingly feeling like you were in the gaze of some all-consuming monster? My heart hasn’t sat right ever since.” Cer shrugged, not knowing why she was being scrutinized all of a sudden.

“Preferences aside, I think we know our target now.” Res concluded, feeling like she was the only sane person in the world.

“Preference!? Oi –!”

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“Timeframe 4 months… additional caveats; access to Hyperlink… rejected until the Amalgam returns…”

“HUH!? No Hyperlink access!?” Ber blurted out as a surge of electrical power encased her fists. “The reason being!?”

“No sites currently exist close enough to Grandis... Western Brandar is also compromised… Addendum; do not cause trouble… The Moons will be busy as new floors… open. Your mission… is to only retrieve the Amalgam.”

“So why does it sound like we’re being punished then!?” Ber exclaimed as Res grasped onto her wrists in an attempt to calm her down.

“Because… you are. 65 accounts of misconduct as a receptionist. It has nearly… doubled in only… a day.”

“… tch. So they’re still counting?” Ber spat as she looked off to the side, her emotions finally subsiding enough for Res to retract her hands. “No need to get worried about me Ber. I’m as cool as a… what do you call that green vegetable. The one with a lot of water and cat Demis hate?”

“Lettuce obviously.” Cer raised a finger.

“Yeah, cool as a lettuce. That’s Cer for you!”

“Please Stage Narrator, just send us out so we can get this over with. We’re going dressed like this, I’m assuming?”

“There is… little time… it would also be unwise… to venture in your usual wear. Moons… exist above, not among the lands…”

“We know that all too well.” Res bowed, her words seemingly silencing the other two immediately. “We will be using the Hyperwarp instead. Stage Narrator; take care of yourself.”

Res offered her parting words as she invoked the Hyperwarp, setting her location to the nearest one which was, unfortunately, towards the south-east of Brandar. Once the three were in sync and were on the cusp of leaving; the Stage Narrator spoke again.

“The origins of my… strings cares for me in my own stead… but I thank you nevertheless… Shall I ask one of the… Indites to compose… a script for your use?”

“No thank you. We don’t need a useless parchment for anything.” Cer refused, as did the others. “Why, did you end up getting a crap one from one your Heralds?”

“I have only received but one script… since my anointment… to this esteemed place… I have been told to act as the Stage Narrator until I conclude reciting the value of E.”

“Sounds… pretty sad if you ask me.” Cer admitted.

It is. E is an infinite number. What a strange order to give. Res thought to herself as walked off the stage and followed the red carpets towards the brightly glowing exit.

“But it grants purpose… to a shell of my former self… I could not be happier knowing… that I contribute… to the things above us, and the Beholders.”

“The Ateliers are filled with all sorts of weirdos. But there are stranger things out there. Good luck counting whatever the value of E is.” Cer nodded and followed suit.

“I thank you… may your prologue progress to the first act in the stage… beneath the stars of our world.”

“Beneath the moons as well. Don’t forget about us.” Ber grinned. “By the way, how do you get by in here?”

“I count.”

“Anything else?”

“8464, 2732, 2942, 274 –”

“A-Alright, I get it! Leave it to the Moons to do the heavy lifting for this oversized rock in the sky!” Ber exclaimed and promptly left.

Silence returned to the theatre when the trio disappeared into the light. Afterwards –

“From the… beginning… 2.71… 8281… 8284…”

The voice of the Stage Narrator endlessly recited these numbers in the audience of one hundred thousand empty seats, moving its body to a soundless tune.

 

* * *

 

< Hyperwarped to Sermount Ruins >

 

In an instant the trio appeared in the heart of a ruined fort somewhere to the far south-east of the Brandar Region. 20 years ago, the fort was manned by 3,000 swordsmen, servants and a lord overseeing its nearby lands.

All 3,000 lost their heads to a Corrupted entity known as the Singing Machine.

Walls were crumbled in each direction they looked, and beyond were endless forests that teemed with vibrant life. Nature had taken its course in the surrounding, abandoned lands, but for some reason the entire fort was spared from its touch. It was an ugly stain in these otherwise beautiful lands.

What made the Hyperwarp different from the Hyperlink was that a Relay Site was not needed. Rather, it was a place that was marked off with a perimeter of Relay Beacons. These crystal-like artefacts could be seen in various places around the ruins, hidden underneath mounds of rubble.

“The singing machine~ Good times. Turns out a level 200 can do about anything they want in the face of level 80 Corrupted.” Cer said, savoring the stale air that lingered with countless years of decay. “How many people died again? 300?”

“3,000. Luckily, we caught it in time before it could start altering the surroundings. Once that happens teleporting it right into the Nexus becomes downright impossible.” Res reminded, pointing her gaze to the northern exit. “It must be hell working for the Scarlet Logic.”

“They say around 100 die each time a classification becomes official.” Ber raised a finger. “Anyway. We have 4 months to set things straight. No Hyperlinks though.”

They all simultaneously sighed knowing that these 4 months were going to the longest months in their life. They were not especially adventurous either. Fighting strong enemies was more their style, not some nomadic life.

At least not here in Elysia. It brought back some strange memories just standing here in the open. The calming silence was agonizing for the three who only knew how to spill blood.

“Listen. Think of it as a 4-month vacation. No more reception work. And we get to kill whatever’s in our way. Sound good?” Cer raised their spirit, taking each of them by the hand as she began to march off onto the spanning dirt path ahead.

“I guess you do say good things sometimes.” Res muttered.

“Cer’s got a good heart after all!” Bes commended with a small laugh.

In the end, all they had to do was recover Frost.

Still, it was odd knowing that Frost was the Amalgam given that she appeared about as strong as a stuffed teddy bear.

But then again, the same could be said about the Arbiter.

Amalgam implies things coming together as one. If the Arbiter invokes judgement, then does the Amalgam consume? Could that be why Cer thought Frost had those hungry eyes?

As if reading Res’ mind, Cer suddenly spoke.

“Those eyes were nice. And she’s not human. Not human. Can you believe our luck? Two bonuses for the price of one.”

“… you’re really creepy, you know that?” Res’ stomach wretched.

“Can you blame my heart?” Cer snapped back.

“Yes. I can also make it stop if you’d like.” The lens by her eyes zapped with immense electrical power, instantly causing a sharp shiver to run down Cer’s spine.

Yeah. This is going to be a long 4 months.

Frost. May we meet somewhere soon.

Still… isn’t 4 months too long of a timeframe?

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