The plan was to have a double story manor. Something built to look and feel like a house, rather than a base of operations. Jury’s Atelier would function as that said base when time came to preserve the peaceful beauty of the Floor of Amalgamation.

After the Frost and Jury’s intimate moment, it became clear that a separate building needed to be made just for themselves. It became their biggest priority for obvious reasons neither of them wished to dabble on.

Firstly, there were no materials to completely soundproof the walls of the house. Various items were dumped from their Dimensional Storages to test which could be used for construction.

Upon experimentation, they quickly found that the feathers of the Listening Bird were quite effective at blocking the transmission of sound. It was ironic, but it fit well with the theme of the Corrupted.

This, however, wasn’t the focus for today. There was a beach at the end of the river, just several kilometers away. If one sat at the top of a tree, they’d be able to see an endless ocean afar, stretching so far that it appeared like a wall. At some point the ocean disappeared over the horizon.

It was west of the house. The same place where the sun would set in the next few hours. Their band marched on through plains, kicking up grass as they foraged for goods along the way. Ber imparted her knowledge of the wild to them, knowing which flowers tasted good, what things could be used for seasoning; it was fun listening to her go off.

Plains turned to sprawling forests where mushrooms grew from the base of trees like warts, and along their bark like platforms. The world here didn’t bear anything too out of the ordinary from Earth’s standards. From oaks to pines, to thick columns that rose a hundred meters, with canopies so thick that it prevented light from reaching the forest floors.

These trees, which were found in Grandis, were called Pillar Wood. They were introduced into Grandis from the Anid region hundreds of years ago by invading Insectids and Anids. The ridged cold of the north made them great for withstanding the common storms which saw shards of ice hail upon the Region like arrows.

“Insectids can’t last in the cold. But Anids? They have that quirk that makes them the top dogs of the north.” Cer explained, poking one of Snap’s legs with her tail. “No one knows how they came to be. What the goals of their masters are up in that stringed hierarchy. Could be world domination for all we know.”

“Ignore her.” Res swiftly interrupted as they climbed the slope of a hill. “Anids don’t amount to anything too big. But they have exceptions to the level 140 limit. Just like the Mycelli. Don’t bother to compare them. It’d just be a contest of what’s worse. Turning into a breeding stock or into a conscious puppet for a mushroom.”

“A mushroom. Heh. It sounds funny, doesn’t it?” Cer smirked, raising a finger. “But it’s one of a hundred thousand fates worse than death.”

“If you ever hear someone climbing a tall tree and ‘sleeping’ at the tip, it’s a good sign to start packing.” Ber added, wearing a serious face all of a sudden. “If the news was from a few days ago, then it’s already too late.”

“For us? Moons? Beholders? You? We’re at the top of the food chain. A little mushroom isn’t going to do much damage. That’s where you gotta make the distinction, Frost. Can it be malice if they’re just trying to survive?”

Cer uttered something dangerous. The answer to this came to Frost immediately like a gut reaction.

“Malice or not doesn’t change the fact that what they’re doing directly harms us. The Ateliers are the same. Even if they have good intentions, that doesn’t excuse them from their wrongs.” It didn’t change Frost’s mood or anything. In fact, she still wore her expectant smile. “I’m not exempted either. ‘Just trying to survive’… I have a feeling the Beholders are going to pull that excuse on me too. The scary thing is – that excuse isn’t something I can dismiss so easily.”

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“Beholders require Nex. There must be a better way.” Jury echoed her sentiments.

“Ex – act – ly. Buuut. Sorry, I get you Frost. I just wanted to see how you’d respond. Gotta test you now before your big debut.” Cer mischievously smirked, moving to the front to lead the pack.

She still didn’t put on her Receptionist suit. The white, buttoned uniform she now wore actually fit her much better than the suit. Frost then took notice of her tail as she answered:

“Thanks. I’m confident enough as it is. But you’re right. I’m lacking experience when it comes to dealing with figureheads. The big wigs if you want to call them that. And I don’t mean Managers, Operators, or things like that. I mean people that truly run the better part of the world.” Frost answered, her eyes unable to tear themselves away from Cer’s tail, which caused Jury to blink strangely.

“Carpalis doesn’t count?” Nav wondered.

“She does. But… I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like I’m dismissing her. We didn’t argue about anything. There was just a lot of mistrust between us for a while. I’m talking about the Beholders that’ll be on Galia’s caliber. Carpalis has a moral code. I have no idea what they have. Fucking hell… It’s suffocating enough just trying to listen to her voice. Imagine hearing them all at once.”

Her complaints caused all three of the triplets to nod simultaneously.

“Imagine living under her wing. You’d go crazy.” Cer hummed.

“That explains a lot of things.” Nav unintentionally jabbed.

“Huh!?” Cer twisted her head around, just enough to catch Frost staring intently at their backs. “What’s with that look as well Frost? I get it. How’s the view? I guess if there’s one thing Jury doesn’t have, it’s pants to show off her –!”

“I was wondering if pants normally come with a hole at the back for tails. Or do you cut them?” Frost had no idea what Cer was trying to insinuate. Jury ended up relaxing upon realizing something too, causing Frost to look at them both innocently. “What? Is that a taboo topic?”

“Ahem.” Res punched Cer’s arm. “Demi-Human tailors do it. But just so you’re aware – these clothes are made specifically for each individual. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of them before, but there’s a group out there called the Weavers that makes non-Atelier Items. I couldn’t tell you what they are since everything’s auxiliary to us. We just get clothes from them.”

“They’re better tailors than me, that’s for sure. But I’ll catch up!” Ber cheered, with Ignis nodding in approval.

“Ber can do anything.” She agreed.

“Right!?”

“Weavers. I think I’ve heard about them before.” Anna said, prodding her mind for the relevant knowledge. “Don’t they come from a defunct Atelier?”

“You mean liquidated?” Frost asked.

They were close to reaching the top.

“Liquidated means their technology has been retrieved or destroyed. Very little is left standing. A defunct Atelier – or a Fallen Atelier – is when a Beholder abruptly dies and their Atelier collapses due to the power vacuum. There are numerous ways too, of course. The status of their technology is unknown, but the products are alive and well. The Weavers, I think use a product of an old Atelier.”

“Sounds kind of redundant when we have Act X already.” Frost wondered.

This caused Nav to then shoot a logical, rhetorical question.

“Two Ateliers with overlapping functions cannot exist at once. It would be inefficient. Absorbing the other may be favorable.”

“I see… If we killed Marduk, then that’d make Scarlet Logic a Fallen Atelier, huh.” Frost said.

“They’re completely different right now. An Atelier pit against the Nexus ought to be called something else.” Res said, right before slipping a long, exhausted sigh.

“Res?”

“Are you ok?”

“Is something bothering you?”

“There is an 85% likelihood that you are annoyed.”

“Bzzzt?”

Voices called out to her as they reached the top of the hill. There, as they stared out that the glistening ocean, Res brought a hand to a certain red hairclip.

“We’re here to enjoy ourselves. I was waiting for you all to realize that, but you kept on going on about the Ateliers. Just for once, I want to drop this exterior of mine and enjoy the water. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the beach…”

“Awww~!”

“I’m sorry~!”

“C’mere Sis~!”

“Reeeeees~!”

“It’s ok!”

“You’re right Res. Let’s enjoy ourselves.” Frost was the last to speak, and the last to pat her head as Res futilely tried to hide her glee.

Out of all the triplets, she was the sweetest and most receptive to being pampered.

Finally, after an hour of trekking, they had finally reached the beach.

And here, Frost would finally show more skin than she was used to.