“We believe that soon, one of the Primeras will arrive in the area.”

“What? How are you so sure about it?” Pestilence spoke first, unable to hide her bewilderment from her voice. “They usually do the system broadcast for big arrivals. Why now?”

“Let’s just call it a hunch for now. Believe me this once, I won’t disappoint you.”

“I’ve seen her guesses play out first-hand, Pestilence,” Baskerville chimed in. “I don’t know how her Mirror Avatar works, but that’s how it is. She knows her things, and that’s enough.”

“Still, even though she has had accurate hunches before…”

“No, Pestilence, there’s some merit to listening to her,” Barnett said. “This dome is massive, there’s no way there is never any problem at all, but we never hear or see any. Now, we are the only ones retaining knowledge of the shattered sky incident, while everyone else acts like it never happened. From what I know of the Primeras’ behavior while I was stuck…”

Barnett paused for a moment and glanced at her Mirror Avatar. The latter nodded, her smile reassuring. “If they catch wind of this, there is no way they will let it slide. They will at least send someone, and they will likely make a big deal out of it, if only to distract everyone.”

“I believe that they will perform a rudimentary check on the area closest to ground zero, so to speak,” Baskerville added. “If Adler turned out to be wrong, at least we’re one step closer, no?”

“You’re right,” Izabel nodded. For now, there were no other leads, and with this, they wouldn’t run around like headless chickens. “So, what should we do? Is everyone going to do a surprise attack on whoever is arriving, and take the information?”

“No need for that,” Adler said. “Too flashy, and when, not if, we fail, it’ll put our whole fight at risk.”

“I know. Then, what do you propose?” Izabel said.

“Talking with them like nothing is happening won’t do either, most likely,” Barnett said. “Follow them after they arrive?”

“That’s also risky…” Pestilence sighed. “If we’re discovered, it’ll cause a scene.”

“At least if you’re careful, we can get the information and leave unscathed…” Barnett answered.

“No need for that,” Adler said. “As thorough as their memory manipulation technology may be, there WILL be some aftereffects to the happiness coefficient numbers after a massive event like that, and if there’s anything that fazes them, it’s those numbers and their whole “stewards of the universe” thing. They are going to make their arrival big.”

Adler snapped her fingers, creating a crisp sound in the air, and with it, the purple faded from her hair and eyes, their colors reverting to normal. “I bet my accumulated entertainment system usage hours that they’ll soon announce some kind of event.”

“… and when will this be?” Izabel asked.

“Soon.”

“That doesn’t help at all.”

“How about this, we can exchange Mirror Device IDs, and we can exchange information whenever there’s anything new? If any of you live in Area E, that would make things easier.”

Izabel glanced at Hunter, trying to glean the red-haired woman’s reaction. Noticing her glance, Hunter nodded, “It should be okay, I will protect you.”

“Yes, I live in E. Let’s do it.” Izabel said.

One by one, they tapped the device on their wrist with the others. When Izabel checked the device, she saw that no real names were displayed. It seems that the Heart Mirror app has tampered with the functionality of the IDs as well.

“Alright, I’ll tell you all when there’s any noteworthy announcements. For now, I guess we can call this talk finished?” Izabel asked.

“Seconding that,” Pestilence added as she stretched her body. “I don’t know why, but I can feel exhausted here, despite this being, you know, a virtual space. That’s odd.”

“Yes, tell me if anything happens, even the most unimportant. I need every bit of information if I want to beat that Eye.” Adler said.

“You’re still hung up about that?” Baskerville asked, bewildered.

“She started it first.”

“Okay, okay, see you all soon,” Barnett said. “Tell me if there’s anything, too.”

Without waiting for the others to reply, Barnett exited the virtual space. Her Mirror Avatar smiled and waved at the remaining four, her cheer a contrast to her partner, before exiting the virtual space as well. With a nod, Baskerville and Adler followed suit, leaving Pestilence alone with Izabel.

“That’s my cue to put this whole day behind me. I hope this isn’t a vivid dream I’m hallucinating on a long sleep, heh,” Pestilence said, her voice sincere, before she smiled. “See you later, Hunter. Don’t be a stranger on the other side.”

Pestilence’s Mirror Avatar nodded, his expression serious, and then, both exited the virtual space.

Well, it seems that there was nothing to do but wait. Izabel fiddled with the device on her wrist, preparing to leave the place as well, when Hunter spoke to her.

“Izabel, I have an idea.”

“Yes, Hunter?”

“Let’s go back to the room we arrived in.”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Right. She had forgotten to check the orb. It wasn’t too important at that time, but now, it’s just a long – or at least, it felt long – waiting game. Looking back, she knew, as much as she despised the inflexible, infuriating schedule she was forced to follow ever since she could remember, now that she was not forced to follow it, there was a daunting sense of losing direction. Even though this was only a mere taste, not even a freedom she would get to keep outside the walls of her altered living facility, it was enough to make the situation they were all stuck in all that much starker—

Wait, the schedule. A quick glance at the device revealed that she still has a few system hours before she has to head out for work… At least, that was what the system called it, however, to her, for something that was supposedly defined as an activity involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a purpose or result, she had never felt any of the latter two at all. A total of ten system hours, divided into two sessions of five, of sitting in front of a device and commanding it to do various tasks, all of which had clear guidelines, and never penalized her for any mistakes. A meaningless stretch of time, all likely because a Primeras researcher decided that such a thing was essential to maintaining happiness.

While Izabel was out, she had seen some of the dome’s inhabitants gain a permit to be given a small creature, all to maintain their happiness. From what she knew, the creature was essentially miniaturized predators, retaining some of their original look but now safe for even weaker humans to handle. If the stories were anything to go by, they were once capable of many things in their former form, but now, they was reduced to striking on colorful tassels with fervor, in order to amuse others.

Something about the inhabitants’ whole situation reminded her of those little creatures.

“Izabel?” Hunter called out.

“Ah! Oh, sorry, was a little lost in thought. I suppose we have time.”

With Hunter’s aid, Izabel was able to find the door of the room she arrived in with little trouble. She made a mental note of the distance between the door and the massive tree in the middle, which was quickly proven moot when the door displayed [Izabel’s Facsimile Room] just before it slid open.

The room was small, with the orb as the only item of interest contained inside. Izabel placed her hand on top of the orb, and then, a message was projected in front of her.

[Facsimile of Emotional Experience of Life – BETA system]

[Anything other than happiness was forbidden. That much is clear. In order to counteract this, each Heart Mirror users has been given access to a space for the Facsimile BETA system. In simplest terms, this is a room made to crystallize thoughts and emotions, giving them a material form only accessible in the virtual world. Any kind of thoughts and emotions can be crystallized, even mixtures of happiness, and in theory, users could create an experience similar to the fantasy world in the Coronam Vitae’s entertainment system, with no restriction applied to their contents, if they so desire.

For now, think of it as a personal customizable virtual room for any purpose.

-Cordis]

“… So, it’s a glorified toy house?” Izabel muttered. Though a little disappointed, she couldn’t help but test the thing, focusing on her disappointment. Reacting to her unspoken command, a wisp of light started to form at the core of the sphere, reaching outwards and shifting into a… long, featureless metal stick.

“Well, that is materialized disappointment for you,” Hunter chimed in, traces of amusement slipping into her voice. “Try something else.”

“Like what?”

“Something practical. Let’s say, something durable? Something that can withstand heavy attacks. I don’t know if you have an equivalent, but imagine this, a slab of strong material vaguely resembling yourself, can stand up to a few rounds of my weapon, and…”

“Oh, I kind of get what you’re talking about. Those circle things usually used for the targeting tutorial early on in the virtual entertainment system, but looks vaguely similar to humans, and durable.”

Just like before, a light started to form in the middle of the sphere, curling and twisting with energy before shooting out, forming an object a short distance away from them. The moment the object truly materialized, Hunter let out a choking sound that sounded almost like swallowed laughter. The object looked like a mish-mash, with the vague shape of a caricature of a human, with clashing blue, red, and yellow colors, not even forming a pattern, just a random mish-mash of eye-searing colors that neither looked like they belong together nor resembled the object Izabel was thinking of.

“If you’re so good at it, why not do it yourself?” Izabel said.

“Oh, right, as good of a time as any to try that,” Hunter replied. “Izabel, can you check the device on your wrist?”

“Nope, you said you’re going to try it yourself,” Izabel smirked. “Do it first, then.”

“You know that I can’t in my current state,” Hunter deadpanned.

“Are you backing out?”

“Anyway, the device. Were you not the one concerned about the time?”

“Alright, alright, what do I even check?”

Hunter pointed at one of the available options. Then, a simple interface was projected in front of Izabel’s eyes.

[Mental Integrity Number Distribution]

[Current: 100 – 0] (Host)

Other than the text, there were options to alter the two numbers. Overall, the interface looked just like a counting application more than anything noteworthy.

“Try adjusting the number to 85-15, Izabel,” Hunter said.

As the numbers ticked up from zero, Izabel felt an odd sensation, a warmth radiating from her chest, outwards to reach the tip of her fingertips in a feeling similar to being embraced, a comforting feeling that only intensified with her command. It took a bit of effort for her to remember that she was here on a mission, and more effort to stop her body from altering the numbers higher than Hunter had asked. As if knowing that she has stopped, the comfort was replaced with a sense of strength, brimming from within, taunting her to unleash everything with each passing moment, while knowledge that she never recalled danced at the edges of her mind, tempting, reaching, calling for her to grasp even a strand of it all.

The feeling of power and control, twisting and following her every movement down to the slightest twitch. It felt almost intoxicating, slaking a thirst she had never known before, and with the satisfaction, came the drive, the need to unleash everything she has.

“It feels nice, is it not?” Hunter spoke, but now, the Mirror Avatar sounded, felt closer than ever. Izabel lifted up one hand, and she could see Hunter’s body acting as a form of shroud over hers, and when she focused, it felt as if Hunter was truly holding her hand, even though her form was as illusionary as ever. “This is the integrity number system you may have recalled during the conversation with Cordis earlier, if that holographic projection could even carry a semblance of one. May I, Izabel?”

“Huh? Sure.”

Hunter didn’t explain what she was asking, but the change in the numbers brought in an understanding that filled in for the gaps in communication, and then, Izabel felt as if she was floating, a first-person observer, disconnected even as she felt herself raise her hand and try the materialization again. This time, the result looked more proper, a row of flat models with humanlike design, each with a layer of blueish-white aura that she knew, deep on a mental level, would serve as a sort of shield to reduce impact.

“So, that is how it is done. Then…”

Izabel felt herself commanding the orb-like machine again. This time, against common sense, the walls started to warp and bend, the formerly small room lengthened enough that the models looked small and far away. As the room’s form stabilized, Izabel felt a tug deep within, a way of calling for her attention that felt close, so close, the unique bond bringing a myriad of new feelings.

“I understand how good it feels. It is time to adjust the numbers back, though,” Hunter reminded.

A part of Izabel was reluctant to readjust the numbers back, the short stint with such an incredible feeling so addicting, but in the end, she complied, setting the number back to their original state. With each tick down, the feeling of power left her, until she was left feeling a little empty.

[100 – 0] (Host)

“So, this space disregards common sense, as well. Considering the distance between the doors, adjusting it to this length should not have been possible.”

“If the detail about this being similar to the virtual entertainment worlds provided by Coronam Vitae system is to go by, it’s likely a bunch of data, so the only limitation is how much storage space the entire virtual room of Cordis has,” Izabel said. “So, in reality, it’s probably all just a matter of making the brain believe this place is big.”

“A mental training space, yeah. This is not as good as actual physical training, but considering the circumstances, a simulated mental training space is better than nothing. Izabel, take out the weapon. Recall the feeling, and the power of the weapon will follow you, as well.”

Cold metal, the power to carve a path through from a twitch of her finger, it all materialized on her palm, a white and red gun resting on her palm just like that fateful day most have forgotten as nothing but a dream, or a figment of their imagination. The weight of the gun itself was not much, light enough for her to use it without thinking, however, the weight came from the power such a small object possessed.

“Good, you still remember. I did not interfere this time, you did well,” Hunter praised. “Now, keep your eyes on your target, concentrate. The secret to hitting your mark lies in the rhythm of your breathing.”

Hunter was still see-through, but Izabel could feel how close she was, a heavy feeling hanging in the air as the former pulled on her hands and limbs, positioning Izabel into a proper stance. Her touches felt like compressed, hardened air more than an actual object, but it was still enough to guide.

“The MIND system could have allowed me to position your body properly, but you do need to learn to do this on your own, as well,” Hunter explained. “Now, you know what to do. Press the trigger, but this time, try to hold it for a few seconds.”

As Izabel did what Hunter instructed, the gun started to heat up, the weapon bathed in a reddish-orange aura. Though the glow became brighter as the seconds ticked by, to her, the heat didn’t rise above what she would consider warm.

“Now, release!”

Though Hunter has instructed Izabel to hold her other hand over the shooting hand, the latter was still taken aback by the sudden recoil, throwing off her aim. Though the side of the target had melted due to the heat of the attack, the bulk of the power hit the wall far behind the target, leaving a distinct, charred circular mark containing melted metal. Though she had failed, Hunter still smiled at her.

“Good one, for your first proper attempt. Let’s try that again.”

Something about her tone made Izabel realize that they will be there for quite a while.