The Floors of the Archetypes resided in the upper levels of the Upper Sanctum. It was unknown if anything else lay further above.

How were these floors made in the first place?

How many more floors were there?

Why did everything feel so accommodating?

The Nexus felt like an ark in a way. A giant machine that survived the past world, bringing both good and bad influences into Elysia. The longer she and Nav explored the Nexus, the more they both felt themselves ‘connect’ with this place.

An indescribable sensation as they arrived at the last Central Relay, except here they were surrounded by doors and a hallway that led deeper into the Upper Sanctums. These doors varied in color. They were large and made from the same crystals of the Hyperlinks, each chained down by the Oblivion Locks.

Ber’s face soured for a moment. This place was identical to the arena the Jester of Speech battle occurred in.

Stars and people dressed in pale, silver-trimmed robes prostrated before these doors, clasping hands as if in deep prayer. Greenish-purple crystals surrounded them like candlewicks. This ritual, as strange as it seemed, was explained by Galia to be how Justica Arms repaired their Hyperlinks as well as began the tethering process.

So that’s what they were doing in the 6th Branch. I thought it was just a prayer. But didn’t Bartholow call it that?

“I must politely ask of you all to keep your voices down. And beware of inhaling the smoke. If you can detect the scent of cinnamon, then it’s already too late.” Galia said as they walked to the center of this room, watching the pointy tips of the crystals suddenly emit a white haze.

The Stars then rose onto their feet and fitted a mechanical respirator that clamped around their nose and mouth. Using a twisting mechanism, the item firmly latched onto their faces, taking on the appearance of a closed, 30-petal flower.

They began to fit a respirator onto the faces of the many Anointed Inscriptors, who were blinded by a pale cloth that wrapped around their eyes.

“Please avoid those doors. They are out of order until further notice. We don’t currently know if the Receptions have survived. Oh, and before you ask; no. Not all Receptions reside in the Nexus.” Galia guided them through. “Don’t get too close to the smoke.”

Nav astutely observed the smoke, all the while Frost wondered what those crystals would taste like. Unfortunately, eating them would likely set back Justica Arm’s efforts into reinstating the Hyperlinks again. Judging by the agonizingly slow rate that those crystals shredded their dusty silica, a nibble would probably be a significant deal.

“They can injure Stars and Moons?” Nav questioned.

“Healers have trouble removing them too. They’re amongst an admittedly short list of prohibited weapons. They tend to get stuck in the body and cause irreversible damage.” Galia answered, causing Nav to fall into deeper thought, trying to equate it to something in her great knowledge bank.

“Crystalline silica. They’re not dust. I’m seeing tiny hairs.”

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“Enlighten us, Nav. What’s crystals gotta do with it?” Ber urged, also wondering what that haze was as they entered the hallway, turning their heads back to watch the respirators blossom into a pale, metallic flower.

“It’s similar to asbestos. They cling onto the inner layer of the lungs and irreversibly damage cells. Healers can’t remove foreign objects. Can [Cleanse] work?” Nav wondered.

“It works on radiation, so I don’t see why it wouldn’t.” Frost answered. “The question is, does it clean things internally?”

“You’ve pinpointed the issue. Cleanse works well, but it requires a rather high level and direct exposure of the lungs. I’ve heard of healers with levels in Cleanse as high as 30 incapable of removing it.” Galia claimed before she dabbled in the horrors of ancient procedures.

And by ancient, she meant a mere 60 years ago.

Healers would have their hands shoved down the throats of victims. Other times an incision would be made and someone would have their hands rummage around the inside of a person’s lungs. Cannibals would burn and smoke the severed fingers of healers, believing it to be an ailment.

The Nexus quaked for a split second, reflecting Frost’s wrath.

“You agree too. That there are people that cannot be redeemed. Who should be Condemned for such atrocities. You and I are on the same page.” Galia assured. “Healers. Demi-humans. Outcasts who could not speak the language. Who had no idea what the world was like…”

“… did something happen to you too?” Frost carefully asked.

A slight smile formed on Galia’s lips.

“There is a major distinction between Beholders and those beneath even with our technology. Take that for what you will. I am envious that even a child can become a Beholder, but I am not one who weighs people’s burdens. Ignis, was it?”

“Yes.” Ignis immediately answered, watching as Galia’s purplish-green eyes melded with hers.

It was difficult to describe the look in her eyes. Neither motherly nor serious could capture what burned in those cosmic irises. She stowed her cup of coffee away, reaching into her coat where she plucked a golden feather and handed it to Ignis.

“Don’t feel compelled to become a Beholder because it is a position of power. A Moon will suffice. If you want to help people and Ateliers, then become a Star. Ignis. Become a Beholder when you’ve watched everything you’ve believed in shatter before your eyes. The maelstroms we’ve faced. The emotions that peeled away. The beliefs that were plucked. The friends that flew away. The loved ones that forever sleep…”

Her eyes began to animate. The green and purple blended into one. If one looked deep enough they’d find stars in her eyes.

“…To become a Beholder is to morph from a coffee bean and into the ones who preys on them. When Nex replaces food and becomes your blood, you’ll come to realize that morality becomes but a suggestion. Later, it becomes an impediment.”

“Nex can be made with positive emotions too. But I’m not so blind to realize that negative Nex is far easier and more convenient for the Beholders.” Frost stated, understanding that a reform was going to be an uphill battle. “… there has to be a better way to generate Nex.”

“I can think of a few methods. Will it generate positive Nex? Certainly not. But I’m sure you’ll also be on board.”

“What makes you say that?” Frost sternly asked.

The Arbiter then answered in Galia’s stead:

“Because you two carry very similar principles. Discussion should wait until the Arbiter’s Council. It will also serve to demo Jury’s powers. Frost. Beholders require tens of millions of Nex per day to avoid the degradation of themselves. It’s a matter of survival for them, but of morality for us.”

“I don’t expect anything to change overnight.” Frost raised her voice, much to their surprise. “As long as things do start to change, then I’m more than happy. But if no one can get on the same page, then I’ll take drastic measures. Even if it means fighting you again, Arbiter.”

The Arbiter suddenly began to hum a familiar tune, all the while Jury held Frost close. At the same time, Galia was drawn until her shoulders touched with the Arbiter, the tip of her tail ruffling the Beholder’s feathered coat.

“Please don’t be so formal. Michaela is all I want to be called. It makes us feel so distant. The restrictions of our past lives no longer exist here. Therefore, it is in our best interest to work together. The last thing we need is another unbeatable Corrupted. As for now, let me show you the floors of the Archetypes.

Firstly, here is the Floor of Desire. Star Child. Would you mind permitting us into your Floor?”