Nights in F-H5 were filled with an eerie silence. The worst nights dipped to sub-freezing temperatures in the Twilight layers, which were level 3 and 4. It was much warmer above in the Shallows, and it seldom saw a night that deviated from the perfect room temperature.

The Site lacked any forms of temperature control. One had to wonder just how much colder it became as one descended. It wasn’t a thought Frost particularly enjoyed because those horrible temperatures were what Workers and Employees needed to adapt to.

The environment was easy to tolerate for some, and a nightmare for others. During their final night Frost decided to remain awake and wander around the Site. She took this opportunity to get into the minds and hearts of the Workers and Employees. The diversity was staggering. From the timid to the brave, to the talkative to the mute.

There was no shortage of people willing to give their lives for a chance to work in ImpulseWorks. It was a challenging perspective for Frost as she desperately tried to picture how many of these people were displaced in Emvita.

“Oh Black Dove! Hello? Er, why did we choose ImpulseWorks? Well… I mean, what else could we have chosen?” A Worker responded to Frost’s query.

Moving on, another answered frigidly with:

“It’s a choice between those murders at Scarlet Logic or the Corrupted. We’ve had enough of the wars already. Don’t decide what’s right or wrong for us. Don’t pretend like you know what we want.”

“Couldn’t tell you the truth. And that’s me being honest to goodness. Look at me. I’m barely able to snap a pen. I’m not even worthwhile as a slave.” An Employee said, poking at her frail, malnourished body. “We eat well here… and before we fell into this mess ImpulseWorks gave us everything we could have wanted.”

“This is our end of the bargain. We chose this. We knew we’d one day die here. Replaceable is what we are. And we know it. If I die today then you what? My room’s going to be taken by someone else in the next. That’s what. It’s routine. In and out. No funerals.”

“We like to think we have ambitions down here. A lot of us have unrealized dreams, and it’s not rare you hear someone breaking down when they’ve had enough.” A bunny eared man said with an unfazed voice. “We’re the best fit for this kind of job. Without ImpulseWorks, we wouldn’t even be here in the first place.”

Frost had to wonder if there was any more they wanted. It was unfair that this was all they could do. Aspirations could not prosper in an environment where death laid behind each and every door.

“I’d rather still be me than be one of those crazed lunatics over at Scarlet Logic. Or the thoughtless Heralds of Act X. I wouldn’t even want to be part of the Golden Index. My soul is mine. ImpulseWorks let’s us stay as who we are. Not become what they want us to be.”

This was an important distinction between ImpulseWorks and the other Ateliers. Perhaps it was because of this limited freedom that ImpulseWorks required the Nex from Corrupted, as other Ateliers could produce it by having its people reverently believe in the philosophies of their Beholder.

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Then, the bunny eared girl they met from the first day passed by her and hopped a she answered with:

“Temper Aspirations~! What do you think it means? Maybe they’re trying to get this cheeky bunny to temper herself to be a little quieter!” She said, hopping away before she twirled and hummed: “Or, maybe they want us to temper ourselves. Who know what our Abyssal Mother wants~!”

Frost asked herself a simple question as she watched the bunny girl hop away, leaving her in an oppressive silence.

Was it truly worth subjecting oneself to such work for a chance of a better life?

Frost put herself into her shoes and she ultimate arrived at only reasonable conclusion.

Yes. Yes, it was reasonable when there were no other avenues for them. But the conditions could change for the better. Hearing them willing accept that death was a part of their job was harrowing.

Commercial diving and mining were jobs with high death rates, but when their life was played like a game by the Overseer, and when they were required to negatively interact with the Corrupted, then it became a problem.

“Are you ok, Frost? Your emotions are heightening.”

I’m fine. It’s just… hard for me to accept all of this. What about you Nav? What do you think about all of this?

“Logically and objectively speaking, the lowest denominators are the best fit for such a job. You cannot compare it to the highly skilled jobs of commercial diving, and mining for that matter. The Corrupted demand death when harvesting Nex becomes the priority. Therefore –”

Therefore, they should get stronger people in than trying to get low leveled people to work with dangerous Corrupted. Ugh… fuck. We managed to keep it to 0 deaths so far thanks to us having to deal with high risked Corrupted.

Things were certainly going to go back to normal once they left. The purpose behind ImpulseWorks’ methodology was insane to her, and in the end, she could alleviate this by bargaining with the Beholder directly, less she wanted a disastrous Zeroed Horizon to gobble up H5.

“Temper Aspirations. Justice Must Never Stray Behind Judgement. Endorse Attachment. What else am I missing?”

“Another 7 more. We are aware of the existence of 10 Ateliers. 11 Affinities. Various Corrupted Origins.”

And one of them might as well not exist. Nex accumulation is done by the Oboros Infinitas. But no one seems to know who they are.

When Frost questioned the Navigator about how they accumulated Nex in the first place, she only answered with it being due to the Site Core. Either that, or it was packaged with the Site Core by one of the Ateliers, likely by Caldera Industries.

Neither could she find anything within the containment units. Frost further explored the Site under the watchful gaze of the Overseer. She visited the Administrative level and investigated the innards of the Site. Corridors of pipework’s and cogged machinery too crude to even function operated in a nonsensical manner.

They were so complex that her Appraise Object could not detect what they were, and Frost was afraid of taking a bite to check for herself. She ventured carefully, hearing the Site produce mechanical groans as micro tremors ran throughout the metal confines.

She felt like she was walking through the bowels of a beast.

Frost was only here to see where she’d be taken, if anywhere by the Spatial Distortions. The moment she entered a room its very same doorway would be the entrance to an entirely different room. Backtracking was impossible, and the only way out was through the Overseer’s guiding voice, for they could see the true path that led back to the normal rooms.

“Where you walk spans the entire Site. In one room you’re on the first floor, and another you’re on the third. It’s a maze that people cannot figure out on their own. Sometimes, people hear a voice or a ticking.” The Overseer spoke to her.

“Do you know what the ticking is?”

“We fear to know what it is. All we know is that the lower one goes, and the less Seals there are, the more prominent the ticking becomes. It’s driven Workers mad. CogitO unfortunately does not supply our personnel with the Cognition Filters.”