The rustling of fabric could be heard within one of the rooms of their private manor. Hidden from the prying eyes and ears of all, the Amalgam undressed from her black Coat of Prejudice and into her formal apparel.

She undid the tiny buttons that hid underneath the golden strip. It ran down the middle of her coat, beginning from her collar. The coat fell to her ankles as she shed it like a second skin, leaving her in only simple black shirt, shorts of the same color, and opaque tights.

Boxers were present beneath the tights. Anything else was a big no go for her. As much as she had grown accustomed to this body, Frost was not going to wear panties or anything remotely close.

Yet at least. One of these days that’ll change. Today isn’t one of them.

Frost leaned into a standing mirror that stood just beside a small dresser beside her cozy queen-sized bed. The covers and pillows were neatly arranged as if they had yet to be used. She and Jury always cleaned up every morning to spare them the trouble of explaining why a pillow was found meters away from the bed, or why the blanket was mysteriously tucked away under the bed.

She turned a slight red remembering her intimate moments on that very bed as she stared into her own reflection, tracing a finger over her cheek before breaking into a small grin.

“I still have those eyes, huh.” She happily hummed as her eyes lingered on her form for a short while.

She rarely had the time to thoroughly check herself since returning to the Nexus. Usually, it was Jury that checked for her.

She looked down at herself, slowly removing her shirt as she cupped her still tiny chests in both hands and squeezed.

“… Not much change today. I’m still confused as to what made me grow all of a sudden. I know it was from hatching from the egg, but it’s weird that I was even able to.” Frost spoke to herself, moving her hands to her arms as she felt her supple flesh. “The same thing happened to Ber but that was post Corruption. Mine was before it happened…”

Defined muscle used to riddle her body in place of the soft, tender skin. When she struck a pose to flex her arms, all she saw was a beautiful woman who couldn’t hurt a fly. That was until she glared at herself, but even that was rather… infatuating.

“It’s not like I care. I like this body better anyway. I just don’t look threatening at all. But I’d rather that I stayed like this than get any bigger.”

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, there was a small sense of aversion she had for her own body. Mostly because of the newfound growth of her chest. She was comfortable in her body as it was. She didn’t want, let alone need it to change any further.

“The eggs, huh. They’re made from Genesis Stones but no one seems to have seen those eggs before.” She stripped herself of every article besides her boxers, dumping them into her Dimensional Storage afterwards as she placed a palm on her stomach.

“Not sure what Jury likes about it, but I guess I can’t complain since I like hers too. Been a while since I’ve spoken to myself like this. Reminds me of my time in the Village of Virt…”

She trailed off suddenly as she pulled out Die Agonosis from the Dimensional Storage, brushing a thumb against the soft end of the diaphragm. The pale object cast a faint light in the dimness of the room. This was the Atelier Item that saved Ber’s life and caused that ‘egg’ to form.

So what caused Frost’s to form then? Was it this, or was it something linked to blazing purgatory she found herself in? Whatever the case was, those eggs were something to consider. It was a tragedy that no one else knew anything else.

She reached into the air and drew the golden and black apparel that became synonymous with her identity as the Amalgam.

She slipped on an undershirt before donning the coat. The red ribbons that draped from her elbows coiled by her ankles, fluttering the moment she buckled the leather straps around her waist and chest.

For a moment, she recalled the paper eggs that the Librarians used.

If there’s anyone that has an answer, then it’s them.

Once her trousers were on and tightened with a belt, and her black leather boots were fitted comfortably on her feet – she stared into her reflection with unwavering conviction. The simple change of apparel transformed her aura entirely.

Where the Black Dove was a mysterious entity that appeared as an Angel to most, and a Demon to others; this oozed with utter divinity. One could tell where she stood in the hierarchy of the Nexus at a single glance. Even Blessed would stop and stare in awe, which was why she avoided entering the lower floors wearing this.

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Once fitted, she slipped on her still-broken Dream Shatterers and feasted on her immaculate form before departing from her manor.

No one was present. Books sprawled across the floor of the Atrium. Half belonged to Nav, and the other to the Star Child. While Nav gorged on simple picture books, the Star Child devoted herself to half-completing books that even Frost would struggle to understand.

Chemistry. Astrophysics, as if physics wasn’t hard enough. Frost crouched over and picked up one of the Star Child’s books. An adorable golden sticker in the shape of smiling star was stuck on the corner of the page. It was used as a bookmark by the child.

Where she received the sticker from was as mysterious as the materials that made it, because when Frost attempted to use Analyze Object she was met with a prompt notifying her of her failure.

“… it’s like a gemstone. But there’s a light in the center of it. It looks like a star.” Frost spoke to herself, holding it against the light before she indulged in the book…

… Only to then gently place it back down before she dusted her hands like she had nothing to do with it. She couldn’t even decipher the first line, for it was the beginning of a three-page equation detailing something about the stars.

At least from what she could tell.

… I’ll take magic any day over that, thank you very much.

The text inflicted mental damage upon her. Maths was never her strong suit. Granted, she was pretty good at it but nowhere near this level of competency. Her mind was fried for a moment as she sifted through the books, cleaning up after them. She took an interest in the topics they studied. Everything the Star Child read related to space, but also strangely nature and other simpler things.

A book titled: “How to make a cupcake!” was one of the outliers that caused her to scratch her head. “Imagination: how to visualize like a pro.” was another.

So these scam books are also in Anna’s library. No author is named on any of the books too.

Frost noticed this as she further investigated the books, surprised by the finding. Nav then suddenly answered her.

“Information held within the Eternal Library is owned by the Eternal Library. It is therefore the sole author, publisher, and distributor of all books. Hence why there is no name… Did I startle you?”

Huh? No, it’s fine. I’m just cleaning up before I head into the Arbiter’s Council to meet up with the Moons. Were you busy?

“I was engrossed by my non-fiction and fiction books. This world we live in seems to be the kind that many from your world idolize.”

I think we’re just fascinated by new things. Sorry. Did I bother you?

“My focus is always 100% even when split. I can comfortably read and converse simultaneously of up to a hundred different inputs. As you can see from all the books laid bare by the Atrium, I’ve been reading them all at the same time.”

You can do that!? That’s impressive!

“I like to call it efficient. However, I do have trouble immersing myself in those tales. Picture books hold little information. Frost. Why are all children’s books written as moral stories?” Nav asked from out of the blue as she began carefully piling Nav’s books on a nearby coffee table.

“I think it’s to teach kids their rights and wrongs. So many problems stem from childhood, so getting them on the right track at the beginning helps them in the long run.” Frost explained, but Nav didn’t seem to understand it.

“To help them develop? I can understand that, but why are thing more impactful at childhood? They can change in the future, no?”

“Nav.” Frost spoke out loud as she picked up a picture book detailing a violinist and a pianist performing on the same stage in an empty auditorium. “I don’t have an explanation, but I think it’s better to expose them to those stories and present them in a fun way. Learning those important lessons. Children like to latch onto things. I’m sure the person I am now is mostly because of my upbringing.”

“Yet you don’t remember it.”

“Please don’t overcomplicate it. What are you really trying to ask me?” Frost went for the throat, speaking as kindly as possible to her dear friend.

“… I wonder myself. I adore the picture books despite their simplicity, and strange complexity. But as a machine, it is difficult to grasp what I want. It is even more difficult to understand how I feel when I read those books.” Nav admitted as Frost skimmed through the book.

The tale was about two musicians whose faces had never been seen. A pianist, and a violinist. Both used to play for thousands in an auditorium, but it could never last forever. In time, the seats became empty, and before long the pianist gave up when they saw their efforts were fruitless, whereas the violinist played even though no one could hear their song.

Frost interpreted it as a story revolving around passion. To do something even if it was fruitless. To do the things that didn’t require the validation of others.

Nav, however, saw it differently.

“It was their calling. A purpose. When there were no more spectators to watch, the pianist had lost their purpose. But the violinist never did. Though I wonder how they felt…”

The book had no title. Neither did the others that Frost found. Many of the books Nav read related to the senses of the human body; one’s conviction; and the scenery of fantastical worlds.

Nav was a soul stuck in a machine. It was clear that she desired to break free and experience these things in full. Her senses had degraded considerably since they first met in that shallow lake, and it only fueled her desire for the cupcake that promised to restore it however temporary it was.

The final book Frost moved was one about cavities and the dangers of eating too much candy.

“At least you’re able to question things. And… I’m sorry I can’t answer them all.” Frost said sadly, setting that one book in particular aside from the rest. “Good to know that speaking to myself doesn’t distract you. Oh and uh… well, you probably heard what was going on in my mind just then.” She sheepishly said with a sigh.

“It’s the consequence of being what I am. I enjoy invading your privacy.” Nav teased in her usual monotone voice. “Should you really be staying there cleaning? I feel like the Moons will not appreciate a tardy Amalgam.”

They’ll be getting all the time in the world afterwards. When I’m done with them, Jury will have a long talk with them before we open her Workshop. We’ll learn from Galia. Afterwards we’ll be at another meeting. But not before we get you out into H3.

“I am looking forward to it!”