Enoch quietly laughed into a closed fist, almost blushing when her name was spoken directly from Frost’s mouth.

“The theory that the higher someone’s level is, the more batshit insane they are. Pardon my language.” Nav commented.

No. That description’s too tame at this point. No one here is right in the head. At times like this I wish I worked at a mental asylum instead of a normal hospital. That way I’d have a way better time dealing with these lunatics.

“The Sites. The fact that we are by far the largest supplier of Nex. Our Oboros Infinitas friends do come at a close second. I’ve seen Moons come and go when dealing with certain destructive events during my service to the Abyssal Mother. You know I’ve fantasized about revealing this to the Moons one day.”

She cleared her throat before she announced the truth of ImpulseWorks.

“We are an Atelier that harvests the Corrupted first and foremost. Where do you think we get the materials to make your Atelier Items in the first place? The Reality Manifester doesn’t make even a fraction of the material we require to make your precious tools. Neither is the quality up to par. Hundreds of Corrupted are kept within our many Sites across all Elysia, feeding our greedy partners for their insatiable hunger for Nex.” Enoch gladly confessed, extending her arms to the side as she basked in light of the many Moons and Stars above.

Or perhaps it was their darkness: their despair and shock that caused her much delight.

“While you are sent on suicide missions and led to believe that the Corrupted cannot be reasoned with, ImpulseWorks reasons with them. We house them. Go along with their whims or against it depending on how much Nex they generate, and you wouldn’t believe how much of their liquid distress runs through the veins of every Atelier. Ahaha~ Aaaaaah.”

Enoch suddenly grasped at her face with black, gloved hands. They were angled like talons. She laughed to herself, finding it all hilarious. Eventually, her cackles subsided as an eye peered through the gaps between her fingers.

“We crush people under the pressure of insurmountable nightmares and corruption. We break them in the futile hope of tempering them; beating them till they’re squashed like the butterflies they aspire to become. Amalgam. Amalgam. When I was once sent down there into the depths as a little iddy-biddy Worker, I had my aspirations tempered, and I was born anew into what I am now. They had infected and recreated me. From a larva to a pupa. Ahaha~ I still don’t know if I’ve metamorphosed yet into that promised butterfly. Maybe I have. Maybe I haven’t. The bottom line is – this is the truth I believe you should hear.”

Her words spurred out faster and faster, her eyes peeled wide. Unlike Beholder Marionette, her crimson irises pulsated with a dangerous, crazed glow as though the image of hell had been imprinted into her very being.

Then, both her hands surrendered to the desk. Frost almost believed she had broken into a psychotic meltdown, but to her shock, she instantly recovered, fixing up her gloves, tie, and tiding up stray strands of hair.

She had returned to normal in the blink of an eye, like it was all just an act.

“Corruption without the Corruption. But that was long ago. I’ve changed. Forgotten much of that endless loop of constant ticking – constant misery – constant deconstruction and restoration. Remembering it brings back certain memories. Ahhh… Over and over and over… Anyway. ImpulseWorks! This isn’t about me. I’d give my long part of the story, but we’d be here for a century. If I could scoop out my memories with a spoon, then I’d gladly oblige.”

She tapped on the side of her temple.

Enoch was a victim of ImpulseWorks as much as she was a member. Her woes were heard, and Enoch seized the opportunity to gush her experiences and tie it in with the truth of her Atelier. Understandably, the Moons became restless. Movement began to stir above, as well as overlapping whispers of anger.

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

Frost inflicted Scrutiny upon them, silencing them in an instant as Enoch continued:

“Temper Aspirations. The meaning is as transparent as you think. Aspirations are forged within the Sites. It’s a doctrine that the Abyssal Mother could never set herself free from. Workers get stronger extremely quickly. Corruption of them is common. The reality is that it serves to push people beyond their limits. To what extent is their will to survive? How much does that aspiration truly mean to them? A wish granting star isn’t going to fall one day. There are no miracles. There is only hell. That’s why birds fly. Because they must leave it. Nothing falls down there.”

Frost’s blood flash boiled. Enoch was so thorough that Frost almost re-lived the woman’s experiences with ImpulseWorks.

No fucking wonder the Abyssal Mother didn’t bother to show her face…

And this was enough to cause her to manifest the One Thousand Eyed Bird.

< The Will of the Amalgam Has Reached the Second State >

< The Second State Has Manifested as the One Thousand Eyed Bird >

Her strands of hair now matched Satania’s – black with streaks of white. One thousand orbs of light filled the chamber of the Arbiter’s Council, granting Frost omnipresence. It had been a long while since she had manifested this Corrupted, and to think it would be outside of combat from all things.

“Unforgivable.” Frost’s spiteful words were paired with the shaking of the Nexus, once again reminding them of the fine line they walked when dealing with her. “The Abyssal Mother could not tell me this herself? And now that she’s not here I can’t even revoke her Blessing of the Nexus… Is there not any other way to generate Nex? Is there no other way to run the Sites without all this suffering?”

“Oh? Did you by chance think I was talking about normal Sites?” Enoch laughed unexpectedly. “Those Sites have long forsaken those ways. Sorry! But I’m happy you’re as compassionate as I thought you were. You really do carry the same face… But you have long hair. Are feminine, but with a fierce gaze. Hmm… Maybe I’m misremembering. It has been so long after all. Maybe the Orange Disruptor and the Red Barron remembers.”

Frost’s fury was extinguished when she mentioned her familiarity. Was Enoch also from the old world?

“From where? Where have you seen my face?” She demanded, and as expected, Enoch had no qualms with obeying her authority.

Enoch gazed at the Arbiter, then at Jury, the Archivist, at Frost – and then finally, onto the Star Child.

“ImpulseWork’s biggest secret. G-Z7. The Site that doesn’t exist. But here’s the catch. It has always existed. Long before ImpulseWorks became a thing. They took its blueprints and worked off it. That’s why the Abyssal Mother isn’t called Beholder something. Her Atelier is a copy of what already existed. Not that it’s a perfect replica, because you have us, other Artificers, the Retrofitters – everything aside from its foundation belongs to her.”

She paused momentarily, captivating all. Some of the Beholders were shocked, whilst others remained unfazed by the revelation.

“I personally wouldn’t condemn her. She’s as corroded as anyone else here. I was part of the Core Team for that place before it ate itself up in the first Zeroed Horizon. To no one’s surprise, the Angels want what’s in there out against all our concerns. A loud ticking entity.” Her eyes moved onto Jury.

“… Elysia…” Frost uttered in total disbelief.

“Partiality.” The Arbiter firmly stated. “The issue here is that G-Z7 has yet to be found. It is unlikely that the real Elysia resides within. In truth, it is likely an aberration of her. You understand best, Amgalam.” The Arbiter gave a subtle motion towards Jury.

… I knew Jury used to be Elysia, but she’s an aberration of her? In what way?

“Innocence, perhaps.”

Are you telling me that there are OTHER aberrations of… fuck. Ugh… I feel like an idiot.

“It is in the name. Aberrations of Elysia. I too have only just realized the irony of this.”

Frost, with a heavy heart and mind already far too full to carry on, mustered the strength to speak.

“No, I know of a Navigator who was sent to G-Z7 recently. From F-H5.”

But this was something Enoch already knew.

Or rather, only recently became aware of.

“One of your feathered friends meddled with our operations and sent an unauthorized shipment of Corrupted into the direction of Emvita. Either they, or one of our T-4 Artificers. There’s no telling where that Navigator is anymore. Caldera Industries didn’t tell you that they too are searching for that Site.” Enoch added, before Beholder Umbra suddenly spoke.

“What’s sealed within must never be released.”

Things have gone from bad to worse. Not only were the Moons faced with uncertainty regarding what was revealed; Frost also found herself on the same boat, and she desperately kept it from capsizing in the turbulent seas of fury and truth.

The wave that struck her the hardest was Enoch’s mention of having once seen her face within G-Z7.

“It was in the lower floors. It couldn’t have been you, because the person I saw was a man in one of our unforms. Brown eyes as well.”

Frost realized that this description matched what she remembered of her old body.

The one from Earth.