Frost always had a feeling that the triplets were exaggerating whenever they spoke of the Retrofitters. The colossal woman didn’t strike her as the pervert they warned her to be.

The procedure was as straight forward as a general checkup with a local doctor.

In fact, it was exactly what it was.

The Retrofitter had Frost strip to investigate her body. The metallic tubes surrounded Frost like a gyrating wall, isolating herself with the Retrofitter atop the temple.

While there was some protest from Jury, she eventually understood that it wasn’t anything sexual, whereas the triplets were hellbent on their stance.

Frost realized how easy it was to misunderstand the Retrofitters largely due to their touchy nature. The issue lay with how they conducted themselves, as well as how this procedure fell in line with how slavers inspected their assets before they were hosed down with cold water.

As Demi-humans, the triplets were naturally dispositioned against being physically inspected, no matter the context.

Of course, Frost was aware that people were going to call foul play if they were touched and stripped by a bunch of tentacles out of nowhere, regardless of the intention. The Retrofitter was excited to inspect her, but Frost made it damningly clear that she was in charge.

Also, she offered the Retrofitter advice. Being a nurse meant that she knew how to approach people the correct way. Even if her intentions were to help, she could never touch a person without permission and consent. Asleep or awake. Dead or alive.

So, she told the Retrofitter that she needed to talk first, because how was someone supposed to know they were being inspected by a bunch of wriggling tentacles if no one told them otherwise?

Something as simple as “Is it alright if I lift this? Let me know if this is uncomfortable.”, can go a long way.

A person’s dignity needed to be respected. That way they could rebuild their rapport rather than simmering in their perverted stigma. Frost had little issue, and even when she revealed that she was a man to the Retrofitter, she did not jump or mess with Frost as the triplets warned.

The giant squid-lady was only curious, and such information was necessary for them to draw out a blueprint of a person’s desires.

Frost was the only one who took the opportunity for an Atelier Item. Jury, as a Beholder, needed a far more powerful Retrofitter to detect her desires.

As for Ignis, she was content with using her bone-blades. In fact, using a normal weapon was counterproductive as she wouldn’t be able to devour with them as efficiently.

The Retrofitter announced her interest in Frost’s seemingly otherworldly knowledge. The woman seemed to know something about her, and Frost had to wonder just what was said in Carpalis’ message.

“Making amends. Recommendations to an Atelier’s function. That is a first.” She said as Frost refitted her clothing.

It was strange. Thinking about this as a medical procedure inspired much confidence. Although to be fair, she did not really have an issue showing her body if the situation called for it.

“Are you aware of any other names I go by?” Frost asked, tugging on the sleeves of her brilliant fur coat.

Mechanical whines surrounded them. The metal tentacles parted as all eyes fell onto them. The triplets covertly retched; all the while Jury watched on with eager eyes.

“I cannot tell per say. But I’ve lived long enough to sense it. You may be a Color. You may be a Beholder… Or you may be something higher. I’m satisfied knowing that I don’t know.”

The Retrofitter began as the tentacles that rooted it to the temple’s stone ground revealed a writhing cavity. An egg slowly emerged, as if she had given birth to a child. It carried a slight glow and was as large as a human head.

But in the Retrofitter’s perspective it was ‘normal’ sized.

“Fascinating. Your body plays a wonderful melody. It is a shame that our Abyssal Mother could not tend to you directly. She would have loved drawing your desires out, touch by touch.”

A tentacle cradled the egg, which pulsated alongside her heartbeat.

And then, another egg was born, causing the Eclipse to make a low-pitched hiss as she uttered: “Two. Weird. Not normal.”

“I drew two kinds of desires. Two separate souls. I wonder if there’s more than one person inside that big heart.”

Could she be talking about you, Nav?

“How could she have drawn my desires? Am I nothing more than a metaphysical voice in your head? Desires are arbitrary to me.” Nav was just as confused, and the face Frost made was telling.

I never thought of you as something as simple as just a voice. This kind of proves that you really are there, huh?

“I cannot fathom that my desires were blueprinted into an item. How can I possibly use it?

When we get you a body. I’ve made that promise, didn’t I?

Nav didn’t respond any further and chose to swallow Frost’s words. Neither did the Retrofitter try to pry. Drawing Frost’s desires had already sated her. These two eggs carried the blueprints that would allow an Impulse Artificer to create an Atelier Item for them using Corrupted material.

And Frost was lucky enough to have the honor of seeing it in person in 5 days’ time. There was nothing more that needed to be said or done. Both pale, luminescent eggs shone brilliantly underneath the Eclipse’s light as they flashed in a code-like manner. Before long, and as the triplets grew impatient to leave, Frost noticed the arrival of a particular fellow.

It was a human man dressed in blue robes, with a lighter blue mantle so long that it was wrapped around his neck like a scarf. The excess seemingly floated behind him. It never touched the floor, as if held by invisible strings.

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His hair was jet black, and his eyes permanently sealed shut. He presented himself silently with a humble smile as if greeting old friends. Beneath his robes was a suit made from an even darker blue fabric, and Frost recognized that subtle glow.

His apparel was made from the same strands that created the Scripts.

Herald

< Messenger >

Soul Rank: Violet | Atelier: Act X

LEVEL : 100 ORIGIN : Human

HP : 4,200

ATT : 1,200 MAG ATT : 1,200 ATT DEF : 2,500 MAG DEF : 2,500

MP : 2,000

RESIST : ??? AGI : 38

He entered unceremoniously. Every step was measured with an audible count.

“62,231. 62,232. 62,233rd.” The Herald spoke to himself, following precise orders of unimaginable magnitude.

A single strand connected him to an invisible anchor in the sky as he abruptly stopped by the foot of the temple and dropped to his knees. A hand clasped at his chest as he simply waited for them all to finish.

“Act X’s dogs are here.” Cer spat. “Right on time. As usual.”

“Slaves of the Script. Hello? You gonna talk?” Ber tried to break his character.

But the man only continued to patiently wait in silence.

“So that’s a Herald. Act X in the flesh.” Frost slowly said. “I’m assuming he’s here to deliver the eggs?”

“Heralds have limited access into various Ateliers. ImpulseWorks grants them considerable freedom. We both benefit from each other’s work. They gain the arbitrary calculations for their predictive interpretations of fate, and we receive significant future warnings.”

The Retrofitter spoke, handing over a tiny, palm-sized music box to Frost.

“H6 recording. Accident documented. Big disaster 10 years ago. Very important.” The Eclipse explained its purpose, which was to provide both exposition and information before they travelled to one of ImpulseWorks’ facilities.

Frost and her companions knew exactly what this information entailed. From what they gathered, the Big Red Heart encounter that obliterated H6 was not from a sudden Corrupted emergence.

It was from an accident that unleashed a stored Big Red Heart onto the Sector. Frost, and neither could the others believe the incompetence of ImpulseWorks, as well as the thought process that went behind housing Corrupted beneath hundreds of thousands of people.

The Retrofitter couldn’t answer. Neither could the Eclipse. But that music box carried the vital information she needed, and she wondered why they readily handed it over to who was only a Color.

She didn’t need to know all this. She just needed to provide security for the next 5 days unless they were trying to drill in the importance of her task. Regardless, Frost was thankful.

But she was rabidly curious. Without her Coat of Prejudice, she found herself reading far too deeply into people’s thoughts.

Could she trust them? This was what rang in the back of her mind.

The Retrofitter’s shoulders dropped as she fell to Frost’s height. Her immense size made her appear like a plant-woman up close. The rooted tentacles shivered as the opening sealed, and the cradled eggs were delivered to the Herald who placed both into his scarf.

“A ‘Color’ is never a Blessed. Beholder Carpalis is lying for you. Millions will be none the wiser. But we are not so blind. A Blessed cannot see another Blessed stats. Remember that.” She said before turning her gaze towards Jury. “Change. Advice. The last instance of change was with the Arbiter. Your words will be remembered. I can only hope that my time isn’t cut short before we see what else you entail.”

She knew that Frost was an Archetype, and she pranced around it instead of saying it outright. Her words brimmed with hope. She knew that she was likely going to die in the near future. But there not a single hint of fear in her eyes.

As if sensing Frost’s worry, the Retrofitter turned her back and looked upon the cold, pitch black ceiling.

“I’ve lived long enough to see enough changes. But in the hundreds of years I have spent stagnant in the recesses of our world, I cannot recall a more influential change than the Arbiter’s call for reorganization.”

The Eclipse nodded, and the Herald stood there bemusedly as Cer and Ber stared him down. Their conduct was awful, and Frost shot them with a stare of her own, instantly causing them to shudder.

“My humble thanks. Can I say something? The future is never set in stone.” The Herald spoke, carrying a surprisingly kind voice. “Interpretations can be intercepted.” He snipped the air with two fingers, adding: “That’s one way to work with the strings.”

“What are you here for? Delivery? Hurry up. You can leave.” Cer said, causing Res to grab her collar violently as she pulled her aside.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me for once in your life.” Res hissed, shaking her in place as Cer reluctantly obeyed.

“I’m here to hand over a set of instructions to the Black Dove. This is for the Overseer of F-H5.” The Herald handed a transparent plate to Jury.

The characters were indecipherable, even to Frost who had an ability that allowed her to comprehend foreign literature.

“Instructions?” Jury wondered what he meant by that.

“Predictions.” The Eclipse corrected, gravitating towards Cer in case she did anything stupid again. “To prevent disaster.”

“This whole thing sounds like one big mistake. And you’re telling me that they rely on that plate of predictions to avoid another Big Red Heart disaster?” Frost berated ImpulseWorks’ methodology.

It was insanity, and for once she thought Cer was in the right when it came to disrespecting these Atelier members. But in the end, she could not blame these people. None of them were the heads of their operations. That privilege belonged to the Beholders.

And it was not like people could easily say otherwise, rebel, or even question it.

Res was understandably furious, but she kept that well concealed, and took a part of it out on Cer for doing what she could not. Hearing that Corrupted were being kept alive was a revelation that changed everything, because they realized that depending on the scale of the disaster, they could easily cause another disaster on par with the Big Red Heart.

However, the Eclipse then waddled over to Ignis, blinking rapidly before she said:

“Zeroed Horizon… When Corrupted go wild the facility is eaten by Caldera Industries machine. Everything disappear. Failsafe. F-H5 will become O-H5. Obliteration. No survivors.” She circled Ignis like a shark, taking long strides before she stopped by her face again and whispered: “Cute. Make good Eclipse. Eyes pretty.”

In the event of a catastrophic failure, a major Caldera Industries machine would implode and create a black hole which would consume an entire facility.

This was ImpulseWorks failsafe.

And look at how that worked with the Heart of Ours. However, the Eclipse further explained that the accident was only called that by name. In truth, they had no idea what they were dealing with. Not until a certain music-loving worker touched the Heart of Ours.

This person was Leitmotif.

We’re going to have a long fucking talk with these Beholders when we return to the Nexus. This is way worse than I thought… Fucking hell.

“This is only ImpulseWorks. I believe the corruption seeps deeper in other Ateliers.”

Yeah. And we’re going to root them out one by one. Corrupted in a city? Are they fucking insane? Nav… help me out here. Am I missing something?

“Apathy, perhaps. With a large squeeze of insanity. The Nex Megalopolis was never built with the people in mind, after all.”