Within was a beautiful garden.

A matryoshka of worlds.

This place was a paradise within multiple worlds of ruin and sorrow.

Flowers bloomed as far as the eye could see, with rolling, lush hills and beautiful meadows inhabited by tiny specks of light like those of the Fairies found in Elysia.

Everything seemed alive. From the roots of trees to the blades of grass. Nothing ever seemed to stand still. But at the same time, nothing made a sound. Only the scrunches of their footsteps could be heard as they stared at a black, spherical object where thick cabling ran through, pierced by the ivy that were the Genesis Stones.

They littered the place like stakes having fallen from the cosmos, others like they had sprouted from the ground like trees. A white forest could be found in the distance, and in the center of it all was the stump of the towering spire, protruding around the spherical object, as if to shield it.

The object was tiny in comparison, leaking a red fluid that similarly overflowed from the pierced cabling and pipes. Other cables had electrical wires running through, but it was odd that they were able to harvest something akin to blood from such a thing.

Frost approached one of these red rivers. An estuary of pure water and crimson liquid battled like the front lines of two armies. The fresh water came from a burst cable, which was erected upright like a tree.

He scooped a small handful and drank straight from the source, wondering if it was anything similar to the one found in the Scarlet Logic Nest.

He winced.

“S-Should you be doing that?” The Archivist asked, holding out a hand as if to stop him.

“It’s a memory. I won’t die. Besides, old habits die hard… Hey. Do you remember the low-quality meat we had along the outer layers of the City?”

The Archivist nodded.

Frost then grimaced, sticking his tongue out.

“It tastes exactly like that. It’s… fucking disgusting. Even worse, is that I recognize this taste, but I can’t, for the life of me, figure out where the hell I remember it from. It’s vaguely like human meat. But not quite.”

“… U-Um…”

“Sorry. I don’t eat humans. Regularly. C’mon. We have more to explore.” Frost held out his hand, and she gladly took it.

* * *

The world, however beautiful it was, was not flawless. There were distortions everywhere. All artificial non-organic material were subjected to the whims of this world’s influence. Cables became trees the deeper one went, and they quickly realized that most of the rolling hills were actually buildings transformed into dirt mounds.

The deeper they went, the more abundantly clear it was that this garden was not the first thing to exist here. Another facility once was erected in this place. Even the Pillar of the World did not appear to have arrived first either.

It was that sphere.

Or rather, what existed within.

Because as they moved through the white forest of these lands, they managed to read out the code printed along the sphere in white.

‘GEN-00’

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

It was suspended between four towers, with a vat collecting the red liquid underneath. Of all the structures in this otherworldly garden, these were not tampered with. In fact, the world within a kilometer sphere was unaffected. The Pillar of the World was hollow, and it loomed over them.

Whether it was actually stone or made from crystals was unknown. Its underside was unnaturally smooth and was accompanied by subtle streaks of black and gold, exactly like the Nexus.

The pair glanced at each other, then made their trek into the southern tower, climbing its dilapidated stairs. Nothing of interest existed within. It seemed to serve nothing more than to hold the object up, and to allow access.

Frost’s body grew heavier with each step climbed, and when they reached the top, they were greeted by a corridor that connected directly into the black sphere.

“… whatever we find in there must be what created the other GEN stuff, I’m willing to bet.” Frost quietly spoke. “Let’s go. No need to worry about me. This is just a memory.”

Those words were meant to reassure himself more than the Archivist.

In truth, he was afraid of setting foot into that place.

But he needed answers, and he trudged through the mud of his fears, marching onwards in complete silence. One final pair of doors separated them now, and beside it was a carved indent to place one’s hand.

Written just above it on a golden plate were the following:

“Report all drastic changes in eye color.”

“Those with golden eyes must never interact with GEN-00.”

“Lailah is exempted.”

The name ‘Lailah’ was familiar. But like all things in this memory, he could not answer why.

Thankfully, the doors were already partially open. He pried it wide, and they slid like giant slabs of granite on wheel to the side, locking it into place. Within, they were greeted with the stench of death as blood climbed the inner walls of the sphere like ivy.

And within was what the Archivist immediately called:

“A fusion reactor chamber. R-right?”

Frost shook his head and descended into the sphere, where pale, thin eggshells lay scattered along the ground, bleeding endlessly with no way to tell where this liquid came from. He held his breath, touching one of the shells which was highly reminiscent of the one both him and Ber had hatched from following her Corruption.

The shells were indestructible, and undoubtably made from the same material of the Nexus and Jury’s weapons.

The Genesis Stones. Blood was drained through needles that retracted flush with the inner walls, hiding behind black panel. Other forms of instruments could be found within. The Archivist was somewhat correct. It did appear like a fusion reactor, but Frost, as he approached one of the walls, dug his nails along the etchings of what appeared to be a drawing of a star-filled night sky.

“… it looks more like a prison to me… What hatched from here? A Corrupted?” Frost wondered, collecting the shells as he reconstructed them.

“Y-you don’t think that maybe it was you –?”

“I come from Earth. There’s no way I could have come from here.” Frost asserted on reflex. “… and even if I was… I know who I am. I know what I am. I know what matters the most to me. Still –”

Frost was visibly shaken by the thought, but at the same time, he wondered how much more context was missing from this. Maybe he was taken here after his rampage in the City. But then again, what did they mean by drastic changes in eye color?

“– That begs the question of just what the fuck I was in this world. I don’t sweat either. This body isn’t natural at all. Tch… Take a look.”

He fell to his knees having finally reconstructed the ‘egg’. The membrane. The cell. Embryo. Cocoon…

Or, in the Archivist’s eyes –

“– A fruit. It looks like an apple.”

“I see a shell. Not an apple. But look. Something took a bite out of it.” Frost showed her the serrated bite marks of what appeared to be a shark.

But there was one other existence that had such teeth.

“W-wait. Did – Did Elysia –!?”

“Elysia betrayed the Arbiter and took a bite from this thing. Whatever happened afterwards is beyond us. I don’t think it’s for us to figure out in this memory. Just for us to know. Just to remember.” Frost said, watching the blood spill from the bitten part of the egg.

Or fruit and its juices depending on how one saw it.

Frost fell into deep thought, the blood seeping into his boots. Soon, a pool of red rose to his knees as he tried to piece things together but to no avail. He didn’t know how much time had passed, and when he turned to call for the Archivist –

– She was nowhere to be seen.

The world turned black as the pool expanded into a vast sea.

Frost was suddenly alone, and in this place, he heard a faint ticking as he recalled the words said to him by that disembodied voice.

No.

It was Elysia who had spoken to him.

“The bird fights its way out of the egg, huh…” Frost recited those words, still clinging onto a piece of the shell before mountains of corpses arose from the sea, each murdered by a flame.

They became his wall. His shell as he sat there, simmering in nonsensical memories, he was reminded of the many people he had discarded. Both here and in Elysia in this crimson purgatory.

Slapping himself across the face suddenly, he rose to his feet and began to trudge through the blood and mud of flesh, determined to fight his way out of this place now that it was clearly trying to spark some kind of response within him.

This place was the equivalent of Ber’s State of Mind.

And as he sought a way to escape, he sincerely hoped that the others were ok.