In lands far away from the Nex Megalopolis, whether past the mountains of Dwarhelven, the seas which separated the major landmass of Elysia from the magical continent of Spiratas or the Demon motherland, Zelmori.

No matter how far away these places were the Nexus would always be in plain view, its pale veneer splitting the sky into two. Each settlement, big or small, had their own interpretation of what the Nexus was. A gargantuan monolith that rose into the darkness of space could not have been made by hand or machine.

No one exactly knew what it was, so stories, religions, beliefs and theocracies were birthed, some by fascination, others by curiosity.

They unanimously agreed that it was the heavens where deities lived, and where those chosen to become Blessed were invited into its loving embrace.

One day their skies were clear, and the next the Nexus was there, permanently affixed to their skies like the sun and moon.

Thus, it was declared an Advent, meaning the ‘arrival’ of a world altering power. The Nexus was only known as the Second Advent to the rest of the world, with the First being left to their imaginations –

The Nexus rumbled. For the first time the grand rock in their skies let loose of a low pitched groan. It could be heard across all Elysia, drawing the eyes of faraway farmers, Adventurers, robed priests who reached out towards the Nexus, and warring parties who temporarily set their blades aside, consumed by the oddity of the sound.

Because it was not merely a sound. It was a sensation. Like trickling rain falling from the top of their throats, down to their groins. The Nexus sung like the deepest chord played by a church organ. But when one listened closer one would realize that this was not an organ. It’s sound was closer to that of a blaring trumpet…

– In truth, the Nexus was never the Second Advent. It was the First Advent. The Eternal Library was the Second.

The Nexus had existed longer than people believed. The monolith was merely lifted from its burial site, Atlas. How long exactly, and from where its origins came from was entirely up to speculation by those who knew this truth.

But Carpalis held a key component to answering this.

Because Frost had encased herself in the same material that made the Nexus.

The Genesis Stone…

Farmers resumed their work, holding cloth headwear in stupefaction. Those in great cities stared out of windows and gathered along the streets. Religious figures who worshiped the Nexus trembled, as though understanding the meaning of the sound and began inscribing the events onto stones, tanned leather and paper.

Wars resumed. Blood forever spilled in perpetuality.

Those within the Nex Megalopolis were left to witness the sight of dark and white lights dominating their skies. And in a crowd of thousands within the City of Hearts, a child pointed to a plummeting fireball.

Mirrors began falling from the skies, as did uncloaked chunks of metal. The floating fortresses that hovered directly above the City of Spades were struck by the dark light, causing flaming debris to hail upon the Nex Megalopolis.

Few had crashed outside of the City of Spades and the City of Clubs. Both were met with the sight of devastation in the forefront, and in the background approached a colossal wall of flames. The City of Spades erupted like a volcano, spreading the living wildfire that followed a twister of flames.

Within was the unhatched Frost, stuck in her embryonic shell, unaware of the devastation she caused. Her silhouette could faintly be seen, stuck in a fetal position. Swaths of red rapidly approached the City of Spades, and following them from afar were the red-suited Golden Middle, led by Carpalis, her trusted Underbosses, and Frost’s beloved companions.

Elsewhere, Justica Arms took the trainlines above the smoke directly to the City of Clubs, recognizing the importance of that emphatic light that drowned out the sun. Beneath were the Associations and Offices who aided those in need, particularly people who carried the feather of the Black Dove.

With Caldera Industries property destroyed, they would be roped into this mess. And with Inflow Direct now becoming the target of Scarlet Logic due to the location of the Advent, they too would be forced to defend their lands.

Chaos was inevitable.

The City of Clubs was now a ticking time bomb.

With no truths in sight, an all out war on every front would be waged to preserve their sanctioned lies.

The real war had yet to begin.

* * *

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Darkness was all Frost could see and feel. She was suspended in a void. She didn’t know if she was falling. Which way was up or down. Her body emitted a faint, golden light in this dark space, like she was the last star amongst a dead cosmos.

Frost didn’t know what to think of this place. But if anything, it reminded her of that time she first Awakened. That place where streaks of light shone across the skies. Except here she was her only company.

It was a strange feeling. She couldn’t feel her body, and her mind was groggy, like she had just woken up from a long slumber. Her vision waned. Or perhaps it was always closed. Separating the black behind her eyelids and the world was impossible, after all.

Then, as the golden glow fizzled away, she felt something warm on her shoulder, and a faint voice calling out to her.

“… ost…”

“… ake… up…”

“… st… lease…”

“… wake…”

“Frost, please wake up!”

“Huh!?” Frost, speaking with a rugged voice, jolted erect in complete shock.

She threw herself onto her feet, the legs of a chair screeching as the ambience of clinking glassware abruptly stopped. A dozen pair of eyes were instantly glued to her, each from a square coffee table as a waitress with dog-like ears stared at her like she had just seen a ghost.

Frost glanced left, seeing a stone wall with modern décor. Ahead was the waitresses and behind her was a glass counter filled with sweets, and a flimsy cordless coffee machine. People dressed in casual wear were seated in this… café, much to her shock. Confused, Frost peered to the right only to find a man staring back at her, dressed in regal, militarist garbs identical to that of the Hired Arm.

“U-Uh… What the…?” Frost was at a total loss for words, suddenly feeling someone tug at her sleeves from underneath.

“Psst. F-Frost. Um… please calm down.” A girl with long, black hair and vibrant, silver eyes awkwardly whispered. “I… I know you’re confused too, but… p-please don’t make a scene.”

The girl cutely pouted but was obviously bothered by Frost’s reaction. She shared the same table, and judging from her appearance and white dress, this person was the Archivist.

Being told to calm down after what went down in the City of Spades, only to find herself in a coffee shop of all places was a tall order… She? No. Not anymore. As Frost brought a hand to his chest, he touched a small badge, and glanced down at a fake, diamond brooch worn by the girl.

What the hell is going on? This is another memory if I had to guess. But since the Archivist is calling me ‘Frost’, then maybe I’m not the only one in here.

Frost, fixing his garbs, addressed the café apologetically.

“Sorry. The coffee was just so good that I couldn’t help but to jolt with exuberance. Please pardon us for the interruption.” Frost said, causing the waiter to tense up before she promptly nodded and disappeared.

I don’t think I said anything bad. Was she afraid of me?

“N-No it’s ok! Please, take your time!” A man appeared at the store counter, speaking politely as if trying to appease to Frost.

It immediately brought into question just who on Earth he was. It was clear that they were no longer in Elysia, but rather, in the world of their previous life. Taking a seat, Frost gave a small smile and raised his gloved hand.

This dream isn’t just like a memory. It’s more like… we’ve gone back in time.

“D-Doesn’t… this feel weird?” The Archivist uttered as the ambience slowly returned. “U-um. Wait. Do you know who I am?” She suddenly pointed at herself, taking a thick notebook from the table and cuddling it.

“The Archivist, right?”

She rapidly nodded.

“S-Somehow… After you hit that Fifth State, I wanted to reach you. All this time I’ve been asking Nav to interrupt whenever you were close to being mad, but I couldn’t do it this time.”

“I had a feeling you were trying to help… ugh. Shit.” Frost brought a hand to his face, which was exactly as one would imagine a male version of his female self to look like.

He still had the messy, black hair. It was certainly shorter, and his physique was surprisingly large. It made his female body look tiny in comparison, and the Archivist like a child. He wasn’t burly, but athletic enough.

It was the kind of body that knew conflict.

And much to his surprise, his eyes were not golden.

They were red.

This body’s eyes were red, but were also close to being dark brown. Sort of like how his eyes originally were before he ate the Hung Juries. It bothered him, but there were more pressing matters present. Erecting himself against the spine of the chair again, he asked the Archivist something as two cups of coffees were placed before them, as well as a strawberry cupcake.

“How did we end up here?” Frost slowly asked, thanking the waitress with a nod, which again, seemed to surprise people present.

“I… I opened your book. Civitas Cinder. It was on fire…” The Archivist uttered, sounding guilty of the fact. “Pages wouldn’t stop burning. I… didn’t want to lose what was left of you from home, so I tried to read it. I-I think this is a reflection of it. Maybe not exactly like the contents, but…” She spoke rapidly, and quickly ran out of breath.

For someone who was synonymous with language, the Archivist was awfully bad at it. Her communication skills were terrible, but Frost did find it somewhat endearing, and a little… pitiful. It was clear that there were underlaying issues surrounding it.

“It’s my memories regardless. Or it could be both of ours. We saw something similar before… fuck sakes…”

“W-What’s wrong?”

“Everything. I left everyone behind in a terrible state. I don’t have a clue with what’s going on back there. I can’t communicate with Nav either.” Frost complained, taking a sip from the coffee for the sake of it, as did the Archivist.

It was rather sweet, and the Archivist stuck out her tongue, drinking from a bitter brew. Frost swapped them around as girl spoke.

“I can speak to Nav. But I can’t hear it. So if there’s anything you want to say, then… p-please rely on me.”

“… Tell them that I’m ok.” Frost solemnly spoke after a short pause, taking a sip from the bitter brew. “The Piece of the Fallen Star’s more important.”

It was disgusting, and had he not possessed any self-restraint, then he would have made a similar face as the Archivist. He had a sweet tooth much to his surprise, although, he wondered if his female body was the same.

His tastes were just like that of a child.

Sitting here, porcelain cup on lip without the threat of the Corrupted made him realize just how little time he had for himself in Elysia. It was an intoxicating thought. Frost was a purpose-driven person, who prioritized work before leisure.

Drowning in these thoughts, he bit into the cup on instinct, chipping it as he struggled to chew the sharp fragments. Brining a napkin to his lip, he realized that he did not possess the all consuming maw of the Amalgam.

Rather, he appeared to be normal more than anything else.

This trip down memory lane would undoubtably hold the answers to many well-kept secrets.

And as he placed the cup down, he took a moment to silently hope that all was going well beyond the safety of this memory.