Paradise.

There was nothing else Frost could call this city. Even when in ruins the pearlescent structures glistened like crystals underneath the afternoon sun. Paradise was also one of the few places in Elysia that did not experience a second night, giving it a full twelve hours of light and darkness.

Some even said that Paradise never experienced night at all. The columns of the old, the supporting beams of ancient houses, the stairs that led to nowhere, and the paths that were abruptly sealed by fallen debris all carried a property that allowed them to accumulate light.

When darkness fell then they would release this light, evident by Frost’s stalking shadow which caused them to illuminate.

Glass and shards of marble-like material broke with each step she took into the vast streets of Paradise. Everything was twice as large here. Decorative vases held enormous flowers which sat beside extraordinary flower shops. Statues depicting royalty sat in city squares, their heads lobbed off and missing, along with limbs and decorative weaponry.

The few trees that grew here we long dead. The white, web-like film she found on the Marker earlier grew on everything in Paradise like a parasitic moss. Breathing the air filled with these microscopic crystals caused her some pain, but strangely enough, they did not piece or stick to her lungs from what she could tell.

It was like she was absorbing it; devouring the crystals before they had a chance to internally damage her. Not that it could. But it was strange that even fine particles were being devoured the moment they entered her body.

So things like asbestos wouldn’t be able to affect me, since my body can just devour it. Does it depend on the way it comes in, or how small said object is? Then again, I’ve never suffocated despite breathing a lot of smoke in City of Spades… Weird.

Frost hadn’t experienced something like this before. She figured that maybe her body itself devoured foreign objects. To test this, she took a bullet from her Dimensional Storage and drove it into her left arm. Buried beside it was a piece of glass.

It hurts, but the fact that I can do this so nonchalantly is kind of freaky.

She left it there for some time, hidden beneath her sleeves as she investigated the material used to construct Paradise.

Tearstone

< Said to be from the hardened bark of the white trees that sit at the outer boundaries elsewhere. You can see trickles running through the lattice of the material, as though it is weeping >

Frost was greeted with one of the most ominous descriptions of an item. Everything in Paradise so far seemed to be ‘alive’. From the Markers that held veins and arteries, to stone that wept, Frost couldn’t shake away the feeling of being watched by the Markers.

They eerily loomed above the encompassing nest, their shadows creeping into Paradise like dark spears. She never truly felt alone as a result as she wandered through ruined buildings belonging to the citizens of Paradise.

Large homes too large for a family of three lined the streets like a Baroque Era city. Columns of these homes stood proudly, and giant gardens sat in the front, where a road ran through from the door to the main street.

She explored their interiors, finding evidence of an extravagant life dedicated to only a few. Because the more she explored the murky, moldy rooms and corridors, the more the she realized why these homes were built so large for such small families.

Her legs stopped at one such room. Blood was smeared along the walls. Broken baby bottles were piled in one corner as wooden planks sat in another. Beneath them were a coil of chains and shackles.

“There are more rooms like this than the nice ones. Humans must’ve owned a lot of Demi-Humans.” Frost solemnly spoke, offering her utmost respect for this place. “It’s disgusting. I will never get used to this.”

But what devastated Frost the most was the small, tiny Marker that sat in the center of the room. It pulsated with a voice that could not form words, for that belonged to an infant. Frost entered the room and put the thing out of its misery, taking the slice of apple within with eyes glowing with immense sorrow.

“I hope you can find peace now. I’m so sorry.”

She could hear the footsteps of ghosts in this large estate. Cries belonging to people of the past. She did not use the Interrogating Clock. But somehow, just like when she saw the memories of the train accident in the City of Spades, she was able to immerse herself in it, and was unfortunately unable to interact with these aberrations.

Frost closed her eyes and retreated. She did not want to see what exactly lay on the floor where Marker used to be. Time was a limited resource. She also could not risk using an Isolation Sphere in case something dangerous lurked here.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

So she made quick work of the estate, removing as many Markers as possible.

The voices became louder. The steps heavier. The weight of the suffering clasped at the hems of her blood-soaked coat as she left the estate.

Aberrations of people wandering the street for short seconds before they spirited away, their forms dissolving like a pillar of sand in the wind. She assessed the situation in silence, watching the dead city return to life. Fragments of the past clashed with the desolate present.

Jury’s power is to interact with time. So how come I’m able to see this? The apple slices? But I did something similar back then too. There’s no Memory Bistro to create an illusion either.

Frost scratched her head, playing with a strand of hair that oddly glistened brightly in her periphery. She thought nothing of it, since her hair had already changed color thanks to manifesting the Listening Bird.

She was still currently within the footsteps of Paradise. The far, outer perimeter closest to the walls. Another set of walls sat further within Paradise’ immensely large territory. It was at least thirty kilometers in circumference. The fact that it only held a few million did not seem right.

But now that she had seen the interior of these houses and the ghosts that roamed the streets, she realized that more than 70% were Demi-Humans, who were used for labor to keep the Human population living comfortably.

Through a sinkhole Frost found an entire subterranean highway that mirrored the one above. This was where Demi-Humans were made to traverse through. The ceiling was not even high enough for most to stand up straight, and the drainage system above led directly down there.

“Bodies were left to rot. No one dared to help each other. So many voices are crying out, but none of them are asking ‘Why’ they’re treated like this. Nav… why can humans be so cruel?” Frost shut her eyes again, following the long road away from these homes towards the palace that consumed the skies.

Frost imagined that it would have also smothered the stars as well.

No. If this city was lit up by these stones, then no one would have seen stars in the night sky.

Frost recalled Carpalis’ words.

Someone’s heaven must never be the source of another’s torment.

How right she was. Frost steeled her heart, walking past a growing crowd of ghostly apparitions as she tried to decipher what made her ability so different from Jury’s.

* * *

Firstly, Jury’s ability allowed one to immerse themselves within the Nex. This was how one was able to uncover the past. Because of this, it was possible to interact with entities within. This came with its own caveats, of course.

Frost on the other hand, believed that she was able to visualize the Nex directly. At least portions of it. Nex carried emotions as well as memories, both from people and the world itself.

Jury’s seemed to be extremely personalized, whereas Frost was able to see a wider picture but could not delve as deeply as her. It was more of a rehearsal. An endless play with no end. The curtains never fell as an endless encore continued in perpetuity.

A purgatory better described this phenomenon.

It was a shame that she could not use the Interrogating Clock to investigate further. But still, this was enough to paint a clear picture of Paradise.

* * *

The event itself that replayed endlessly was nothing spectacular. It was just… the normal life of Paradise. This in itself was hell of the Demi-Humans. It was never one event they remembered, but everything in their lives.

If it was an event, then she would have seen something akin to the City of Spades Massacre. Frost had never been so silent. The homes gradually became bigger the deeper she ventured into Paradise. Rotten trees were overgrown by the pallid film.

By now it had grown so dense that it required considerable effort to break apart, and with each Marker she devoured the distant humming of the child became louder as it became more soothing.

“It’s surprising.” Frost blurted out of nowhere, holding her head up to the spire of the palace. “I’m the only one here. You’d think people would remain in these ruins. Not even rats dare to call this place home anymore. There has to be a reason for that, right?”

She figured that she should have met with at least something – anything by now, but it was as devoid as a barren wasteland. As difficult as it was to discern the apparitions from reality, Frost still had her many eyes to keenly scour her surroundings.

That was until she saw something unnatural move amongst the rubble.

A particular building with a collapsed, golden statue depicting a giant coin saw unusual movement from within. The reason why Frost found it odd was because she had observed this place enough to understand that Demi-Humans were not allowed to wander into such buildings.

That place was an exchange or a bank of some kind. And within, holding giant sacks and wearing items ranging from armor to travel dresses were childlike humans with pointy ears.

“This is the last trip, right? The boats aren’t going to hold all of this.” A squeaky, childish voice spoke from inside.

“For now! There are at least another one hundred banks to rob! Who wodda thought Paradise would be so ripe for the pickn’!” Another voice spoke, although this sounded like it belonged to an adult.

“It’s always been ripe! You new or somethin’? Just follow the protocol and don’t stay for long. Three don’ts of Paradise! Don’t eat in Paradise. Don’t drink in Paradise. And definitely don’t stay for more than a day in Paradise! Why, my Gnome friends?”

Then, a bunch of childlike voices as well as adult voices that did not match their appearance simultaneously cried:

“””””“You’ll catch the Pale Web!”””””

They hadn’t noticed Frost just yet. Curious about these people, who called themselves Gnomes, Frost steadily approached them with good intentions.

However, the moment her visage became visible, she was struck by a magical arrow. Icy dust consumed her form as an explosion rippled throughout the streets.

“Hah! DIRECT HIT! It was a human! Black hair that was being Webbed by the Pale Web! Boss! I think we gotta move quick! There could be more –!?”

The cloud of ice was suddenly consumed by a ball of flames. A torrent of liquid fire flooded the streets as six Gnomes ran out to the front of the ruined bank, their tiny eyes filled with terror as they held their small battle staves that were no larger than twigs.

“And here I thought I found something interesting.” Frost spoke in a terrifyingly deep voice as she stepped forth from the flames, emerging unscathed.

“N-No way… That was – an arrow enchanted with Ice magic! W-Who… A-A… I mean…”

Frost foresaw a confrontation. She wanted to tame the situation to get some information out of them since she was so curious, and this attack would serve as leverage for her too. However, it didn’t seem like she had to do anything.

Because before she could open her mouth, the six Gnomes – who looked just like childlike humans about the same height as Cer – prostrated themselves as they threw their weapons away.

As a matter of fact, they didn’t even touch the ground with their hands. It was held behind their backs as their foreheads were firmly planted onto the earth.

“PLEASE SPARE US!”

They pleaded all at once, as if they all shared the same exact braincell.