The 7th Floor was the Floor of Despair. Surprisingly, this door was unlocked. The Archetype of Despair existed elsewhere in Elysia, their general location left as no more than an afterthought.

The symbolism of the chains was reminiscent of the Chained Theocracy. According to Galia as Frost explained the Affinities, Attributes and Origins of the Corrupted to her and the Arbiter; she figured that they’d fit well with the concept of despair.

Every Atelier seemed to have an Affinity in some way, with Anna stating that Inflow Direct felt the closest to Civilization, perhaps like how Magus thought of the Golden Index as Hope.

Jury’s Atelier would then fall nicely into Amalgamation. But with the loss of Scarlet Logic, who they speculated to be Wrath, the Archetype of Wrath would be the only one without an Atelier for the foreseeable future.

As this was said, a few eyes lingered on Ignis.

The 8th Floor was the Floor of Hope; a brightly lit place where golden carpets and banners resided. The inner doors were locked, however.

9th was the Floor of Ego. A door that remained sealed with many chains. Unlike the previous doors, they could feel a presence within, slumbering as Frost, Nav and Jury felt something ring within that Archetype’s roost.

Nav wandered closely, placing a hand onto the door as if someone was calling for her.

“Ego?” Nav asked, finding difficulty in removing herself from the door.

“’Amour Propre’. The idea of the ‘self’. Or the love of oneself. It’s separate from identity. Where identity is the prevailing self, ego would be the myriad of components that make it up but can also usurp the identity in various instances.”

Galia explained before she echoed the words of another’s wisdom.

“Beholder Descartes is highly affiliated with the idea. That we are made up of many smaller fragments that in total, are larger than the whole. There is a belief that if one believes in who they are, then they can become such a person or thing.”

Her narrative was one woven thread in the fabric of truth regarding the Corrupted. Leaving the floor, she continued with:

“As you can tell, Beholder Descartes is not one Beholder, but a tapestry of splintered individuals that stemmed from one major whole. A confluence of identities. Each represents an idea of how the Corrupted are made, and subsequently, their multiple theories of oneself.

A descent into decay.

An insatiable yearning.

A primal need.

An irrevocable must.

An elusive ideal.

A link between the conscious and the unconscious…

… The mystery is a long running one. There are too many converging facets to call one the ‘truth’, but the Affinities you speak of are interesting. Because it is our first ‘truth’.”

Finally, the 10th Floor was the Floor of Judgement. The walls were pearlescent, and rows of pillars ran along as a black, feathered carpet ran along the outer doors towards the Arbiter’s humble abode.

Corrupted Personas and the non-Corrupted Personas followed the same principle but were also fundamentally different. Corrupted Personas, as they’ve learned, could only occur in people. The Corrupted however, could be born at any moment, influenced primarily by events, traumas, stories, ideas, thoughts, griefs…

Or in other words, Nex.

Deeper into the mystery of the Corrupted was the origin of it, which was heavily implied to have been caused by Elysia after she ate what was forbidden. Her one wrong – her one sin – had damned everyone with no recourse.

Their understanding of the Corrupted was still miniscule, but simply understanding the Affinities and Origins of the Corrupted roused interest in Galia and would hopefully be a steppingstone in further extracting information from these creatures.

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Frost’s optimism foresaw that it could help in subjugation, suppressions and, most importantly, preventing them from appearing in the first place.

But with a world as large as Elysia, she understood that her influence would be severely limited.

Soon, they walked through the pale doors of the Floor of Judgement and were greeted by an expansive, pale chamber. It was like a prayer hall. A phantom hymn played from its circular heights, where colorful mosaics depicted a twelve-winged bird standing in the center of the ruins of Paradise.

There, the outline of a giant, golden tree rose as a man donning a flaming blade seemed to guard it. The Red Barron immediately came to mind, but so did the flaming sword that once protected the entrance of that garden in the old world.

“Pay no heed to the imagery or the symbolism. I had Thread Architects from Act X prepare a mural mosaic.” The Arbiter waved it off before gathering them deep into the center of this great… nothing.

It was all marble, with endless pillars and a concave ceiling. Various patches of black feathered banners, as well as carpets could be found scattered along the floor. They were made from the same feathers as Galia’s coat.

“Is that mosaic supposed to symbolize something meaningful?” Frost asked, before she turned her attention to the 12 wings that slowly grew from the Arbiter’s back like the legs of a spider.

“It’s representative of my origin as an Archetype, and my home in this world before I died. I lived in the old world. Then in Paradise, and then – as I am now.” Her wings eventually detached from her back, as if her soul was stolen from her.

A tiny, feathery, circular bulb was the body that held all 12 wings, and it crawled cautiously around the chamber, its legs brushed by them as the triplets instinctively froze in terror. Ignis was much the same. Their instincts screamed at them. It demanded them to forfeit all hopes of free will, for this beast controlled every aspect of their existence.

“That’s the miniaturized Icon of Judgement…?” Total awe consumed Jury, her golden eyes dazzling in its presence. Of everyone here, she was the most comfortable, next to the Arbiter and Galia.

Frost could not believe that something so beautiful could be equally nightmarish. It reminded her more of an Anid funnily enough, and unbeknownst to her, she uttered these words.

It made Galia shut her eyes in approval.

“I thought so too. Icon of Judgement implies that it takes after the real form of Judgement. The flocks of many fall into the trap of the spider’s web seeking salvation, their only penance delivered to them in the form of death.” Her understanding of it was vastly different from many others, the Arbiter included.

“A woe of many. But it has similarities to things of the old. Twelve wings, the twelve Bodies, the twelve Apostles, the Branches… need I go on? I believe these ‘Main Sequence Corrupted’, as you’ve come to call them, are a blend of the past and new.” The Arbiter waved her hand, and the Icon of Judgement lowered its head towards Frost.

“But they also resonate with us. Just like what happened to me. I’m sure that also resonates with you.” Frost curiously stared into its nonexistent eyes. It hadn’t hit her yet that this was the same creature that had felled a million in a single night. It bumped its body against her, the fur within coarse, and lined with barbs akin to fishing hooks.

Had it not been for her DEF stats, as well as its weakening, then it would have stolen her face and eyes. It was unfortunate that she had no means of adding it to her Collection, and seeing one in the flesh, even if it was only a tenth of its original strength, still hadn’t properly registered.

They were finally here on the Floor of Judgement. It took a while, but now they could get down to business. The Arbiter found a patch of black carpet and took a seat, kneeling as she kindly beckoned Frost to join her.

“So. Now for the real question – Why did you call me up here in the first place?”

She took a seat before the Arbiter, legs crossed as the others surrounded them, eagerly waiting for her 4-month-old answer.

“I’ve told you before.” The Arbiter tapped both her dimly lit eyes before reaching out, hovering her fingers just before Frost’s. “I want my eyes back. Initially, I planned to ask you to help recover the Corrupted to work towards my Awakening. However, as fate would have it, you’ve brought along exactly what I’ve been searching for.”

Her 7 tails surrounded them like a cocoon as a small, glimmer of light formed between them.

“I must politely ask, Archetype to Archetype, will you Archive the One Thousand Eyed Bird and the Listening Bird in the Floor of Judgment? As needless as it is to ask, I wish to establish a firm level of trust between us all.” A tail wrapped one of the Arbiter’s hands before she went to touch one of Frost’s.

She never, ever allowed herself to touch her directly, as if it were a taboo.

“In exchange, I, my Beholder Galia and her Atelier will serve to judge all enemies of the Nexus. All suspects. All parties. All individuals will be subjected to our justiciary. With the eyes of the One Thousand Eyed Bird, and the power to read the sins of others from the Listening Bird; no lie shall go undetected. No ill deed shall go unpunished.”

Before the Arbiter’s Council had even begun, 3 Archetypes and one of the more instrumental Ateliers had pledged their allegiance. Soon, there would be a second Atelier; one that would allow the auditing of the Ateliers through the manipulation of time itself.

Jury had proven to be rather lax when it came to punishing wrong doers. She was nothing like Frost, who wouldn’t blink twice to torture those that injured the healers. Merely thinking about them caused her blood to boil.

If it were up to her, then they’d be subjected to endless torment.