The legend of the White Rabbit did not exist amongst adults, and neither are most children aware of such a story. It didn’t exist at all. Parents dismissed it as figments of their children’s imaginations.

Two reactions occurred whenever Frost asked a child about the White Rabbit.

The first is that they would ask her what it was, and the second would result in a knowing grin. The White Rabbit seemed to only manifest before a certain demographic of children, one that had increased substantially after the war.

Frost couldn’t put her finger on what caused this to occur. All she could think of is the prognosis of the White Rabbit phenomenon. Was it dangerous? How would it evolve over time? It was impossible to forecast anything.

She peered out of the window of one of the few working Express Trains, watching the world fly by as she then stared intently at Jury’s sleeping reflection.

“Why are they mistaking Jury for it?” These soundless words left her lips.

This was the strangest part of the phenomenon.

Onboard healers were a thing of the past now. A Train Conductor was the only personnel on board. They were necessary to heal passengers due to frequent injuries caused by the train’s violent movements.

Instead, bandages could be found in small, metal boxes that were labeled with a giant red plus sign. Suddenly, a pleasant ding rang in all directions before the Train Conductor spoke:

“Healers are no longer boarding our trains. Please find the nearest Healing Clinic if you experience the following: neck pain, shortness of breath, unresponsive limbs, chest pain, or sudden blindness. Caldera Industries is not responsible for any injuries caused by travelling on our trains. Please do not dispute this with the Train Conductor or you will be required to seek the nearest Healing Clinic.

Endorse Attachment.”

“Endorse Attachment. Nav. Got a clue on what it might mean?” Frost sighed, turning towards Nav who was busy counting the precise number of hairs on her head.

“Temper Aspirations.” Nav plucked a strand, watching it wither away in the sunlight. “Both meanings are not obvious and are personal to the Beholder. My initial interpretation of the latter was to tame aspirations than to harden them. Endorse Attachment could relate to the Advent of Attachment they seek.”

“Endorsing it, huh.” Her eyes locked with Nav’s fingers as she plucked another strand, watching it fizzle away yet again into tiny, blue particles of light. “Is that normal?”

“This hair is made from synthetic material. Think of them as tubes requiring constant fuel. They lose their form when plucked away.” She said, waving away the strange blue particles like they were pollen.

“That looks convenient. I hate cleaning up after cutting my hair.”

“You cut your own hair?” Nav wondered.

“I did on Earth. Well… I’m sure I did. Hey, does that hurt?”

“I don’t feel pain so I can’t tell you. Would it work if I did this?” Nav then moved her hand and made a slicing gesture along her forearm.

“I’d rather we never find out.” Frost smiled. “At least we know we have to keep you in one piece. Wait, does your hair regrow? Maybe it’s a good idea to stop plucking them.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“The technical term for this is dethatching.” She nodded to herself as her hands dropped onto her lap. “It would be troublesome to permanently weaken myself through enacting my curiosity. After all…”

Nav’s eyes suddenly met with Frost’s. There was not a hint of emotion within those eyes as she uttered:

“… healing magic does not work on my form.”

Precisely. Nav was a machine. It did not matter whether she had a soul or not. Healing magic could only restore the biology of the living. Never the rebar of machines. Nav’s body had changed over the last few days, steadily becoming colder to the point where her vital signs no longer existed.

Frost kindly drew one of Nav’s hands onto the table and gently pressed her thumb against her wrist. The once healthy throb was absent. Nav didn’t possess a pulse. What Frost felt instead were bumps underneath her skin, akin to that of tiny gears.

And with no pulse, Frost wondered if she even had any blood inside of her anymore. The regression of Nav’s body was worrying. Thankfully, it didn’t have any mind-altering effects on her.

She was still mentally sound.

“All the more reason to complete your wish.” Frost spoke warmly. “But I think Jury can heal you. She just needs to wave her finger and reverse time, right?”

“I believe it is possible. But it’s more convenient to be like you. Are you worried about me perchance?” Nav’s lips curved into a small smile, the turbulent air blowing her hair to the side as her cap was nearly taken away.

The way the light refracted in her eyes reinforced that Nav was beyond just steel and flesh. She was warm in her own way. So much so that it caused the coldness of her hands to seemingly disappear.

Beyond that gaze was a burning desire to fulfill her wish.

Frost’s hands tightened around hers.

“Of course I am. What kind of a question is that? Your wish is just like ours. We all want to live in this world. If living to you means getting rid of your metal body, then we’re with you one hundred percent of the way.” Frost said cheerfully as Jury’s head plopped onto her shoulder.

She then whispered in her sleep.

“One hundred percent…” A strand of drool dribbled, causing Frost to laugh quietly.

Nav didn’t speak for the remainder of the trip, but her smile and bright eyes made it obvious that she was happy. The train trip was surprisingly tranquil. The scenery of the city never failed to impress. From the urban to the rural, and to the wild stretches between each pocket of life reminded Frost of how big this world was.

The red and black theme of the City of Hearts soon shifted to gold as baroque architecture filled the endless cityscape before them. A giant wall divided the City of Hearts from the City of Diamonds. It ran from the inner Sectors all the way down to the outer walls. The distance was so large that she could see different shades of night down to the edge.

Although, this was due to the shadow of the Nexus.

The glow of civilization staved the night away as hundreds of wolf-drawn carriages rode along roads wider than the largest highways on Earth. The atmosphere shifted from romantic to extravagant as gold filled the world as far as the eye could see.

It had been so long since they visited the City of Diamonds. At least it felt like it. Frost felt giddy all of a sudden as she looked across the carriage, past the heads of a Dragonkin family and saw a certain golden spire.

Carpal Tower springboarded her journey into learning what the world was, both on its surface and deep beneath the crust. A childish glee overcame her as she wondered how the others were doing right now. She had no doubt that the Demi-Humans they rescued still remembered them.

A part of her was ashamed that she still didn’t know their names. This time, she’d learn them for sure. Her eyes then wandered to the skies above where not many stars could be seen due to the light pollution.

But it was far more than the stars in the cities of Earth.

“I hope Stella can see the stars too one day.” Frost spoke underneath her breath. “She deserves to see them more than anyone in the world. Have you tried speaking to Aster yet?”

“Partially. Aster has very small timeframes where I can communicate with her. Her coma may soon be subsiding. Perfect timing. Shall we call it a coincidence for once?” Nav said, causing Frost to smile.

“Yeah. Just this once I’ll believe it’s a coincidence. That’s until we later find out that she’s waking up because we’re on our way. Haaah… I wonder if Sana’s going alright as well. She needed a lot of help after what happened to her. This’ll be your first time meeting them all too.”

Before long, the train arrived at its destination in D9. The rest of their travels would be by foot until they reached the doorstep of the D-J Sector.

* * *

< Entering the City of Diamonds (D-J) for the First Time >

< Welcome to the City of Diamonds (D-J) >