The actual battle of Frontier was but one component of the war in the Bellum Empire. Woven between the chaos were Gerina’s loyal forces.

They were tasked with three things: gather evidence of corruption to find out who was on her side, capture political figures tied to the conspiracies against her, and finally to evacuate as many souls as possible to designated safe zones.

One of these safe zones was the harbor deep beneath the Capital.

Despite it being in the Underflow it did not see an attack by either the Impuritas or the Sins. The appearance of the Ark had prevented the Sins from leaking too close to the Capital, but in the next few hours it would not surprise anyone if monsters started to appear in the waters.

Thousands were kept underground in similar areas. They turned them into makeshift fortresses as they clutched onto what little possessions they could bring. Most of it was just the clothes on their backs. Mothers cried out the names of missing children, and fathers scoured through the crowds in search for them.

Debris that had fallen into the streets during their evacuation left many wounded. There were no Healers to help them, aside from a sparse number of healing potions taken from the ship’s cargo.

It was a different kind of chaos sparked by war; a kind that destroyed the civility of society. However, Gerina’s forces were ready for this development. They instilled authority before anyone could even think of taking leadership, and this was done in partnership with a familiar group.

“Impuritas, but they’re not the bad kind.” Deiman commented as he read the stats of an Objet D’Art member. “We don’t have enough supplies for everyone here… I didn’t know it was possible to create things with magic.”

Objet D’Art Impuritas created long rolls of cloth with their magical brushstrokes. Splints, braces, and even beds were supplied by them. They shone like a beacon of light amidst their darkest moment, gifting the citizens whatever they needed. Of course, this was as long as it wasn’t a consumable item.

Magical paint was unfortunately inedible. At least for everyone besides the Amalgam.

Ladders of light would shine above the heads of missing children. The name of the child was then written clearly for their parents to see like a star in the night sky. Though the Objet D’Art was far from strong, they made up for it in utility and in heart.

They were a humanitarian group if anything. A glint of light shimmered in Deiman’s yellow eyes as he wondered why they were called impurities instead of something more fitting.

“Hello? Deiman? Are you listening? You didn’t think it was possible to create stuff like this with magic? Huh?” Autumn murmured, grabbing Deiman by the collar as they brushed through the crowd.

She did so with urgency, her eyes darting left and right.

“Magic is the ability to manipulate the world around us. Mana is the medium that lets us do it. I don’t want to hear that you didn’t know that. I get your memories are screwed up, but don’t kid yourself. Magic is everything.”

She complained, not meaning to say this with such edge. However, the situation called for it. But it wasn’t because of the chaos around them. Autumn had lived through this same scene throughout her life across multiple cities.

The difference here was that these people had never experienced the normality of Grandis. Autumn didn’t know whether that made it more tragic or not.

She made a face that said: “This is normal.”

Loss was so ingrained into her that it was the reason why she didn’t want Deiman to stick around her in the first place. Not only that, but she had also lost her family as a child in a similar setting.

This was why Autumn was so riled up, because there was a member that they were also missing.

“Have those ears heard anything!? Mae’s voice should be distinctive enough to spot her! Tch… Where did she go? Deiman, stick close to me too!”

Autumn was uncharacteristically clingy ever since Deiman saved her. But Mae’s disappearance only exacerbated this side of her. The cold exterior she showed them melted away, revealing an Autumn that Deiman couldn’t help but want to protect.

She never let Deiman’s collar go. If her hand slipped, then she’d quickly grab another fistful of his shirt.

“I should’ve kept an eye on her. Stupid. She even said she came here to find her friends…” Autumn trailed off as the two arrived at a secluded section of the harbor.

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The two stood at the edge of a broken balcony that oversaw the depths of the Underflow. Shimmering waters that once glowed blue was now red. Autumn released Deiman and stared out into the distance in a vain hope to find Mae.

“… do you think she was afraid of what we’d think of her when things settled down?”

“What do you mean?”

“A Maestro, Deiman! A Maestro!” Autumn snapped. “Mae was a Maestro of Flesh! The musicians! You… you don’t know about them?”

Deiman gave her a blank look, and Autumn lowered her head as she quickly apologized.

“I’m sorry. Of course not. The Maestros… Hey, have ever seen a person have strands of muscle peeled off and strung like a guitar? That’s the kind of people Mae’s looking for.” Autumn sighed, throwing her head into a palm.

“I don’t know what that girl is thinking. Aaaaaaaargh. Mae is a Maestro. That’s what your Blessed abilities said. But it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that a ‘Maestro’ couldn’t have been so close to those things. Then there was the whole secret talk with Frost in the ship. Did Mae think we’d really despise her if we found out?”

Deiman inched closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulders. Were it anyone else, then she would have flipped them onto their backs. But…

… Autumn’s ears flushed a slight red.

They only knew Mae for a short while, but she left an unforgettable impression on them both. Mae had her flaws, and her intentions from the start were insincere. But towards the end, Mae showed understanding and humility, to the point where she did not betray Deiman.

Had she betrayed him, then she possibly would have escaped with her life.

“… Mae didn’t even know how to forage for food. She won’t survive for long out there.” Autumn concluded.

“She might be swayed by the Maestros of Flesh if they appeal to her hunger.”

“Hey, I know Mae’s not the brightest person around… but that’s also a possibility.” Autumn deeply sighed again. “Truth is, I’m afraid Mae’s going to get hurt. Worse, she’ll probably be pulled back into their scummy hands. I’ve only known her for a short while but… she was with us, wasn’t she?”

Autumn implied that they too depart and search for Mae. She tried to convince him, but Deiman did not need to be. He had also made up his mind and felt indebted to the Maestro.

“She even knows Frost. And…” Autumn began in a low, barely audible voice. But because Deiman was a Fox Demi-Human, he could hear her loud and clear. “You went through hell because of me. Someone you barely knew. So!”

She then took him by the collar again, drawing her face close to his. She had to stand on her toes, and even then, she could barely reach his height. Deiman was awed by her conviction. She was far weaker than him, but the flame in her eyes said otherwise.

“I want to start a better cycle that doesn’t involve us shrugging shit like so easily. I had a dream, Deiman. Just now before everything went to hell. I saw that Grandis… could be better. Ever since Frost told us she was the Head of the Nexus… I kept on thinking ‘what would she do’ or ‘what would she say to me’.”

The girl wore a sheepish smile. It was embarrassing to admit this, but Deiman fully understood this.

If anything, Autumn understated just the kind of influence Frost had on people.

“She has that kind of influence from the start. Why the hell did we chase her all the way here?” She giggled before falling into Deiman’s chest. “… A-Ah, sorry –!”

“It’s fine. I like it.” Deiman smoothly said, not really knowing why he did.

“… if you say so. Geez… Get your memories back soon.”

* * *

Finding Mae would be like finding a needle in an ocean. There wasn’t a single lead for the duo to follow. Asking around for a ‘green-haired girl’ amounted to nothing. The generic description only led to dead ends.

A frustrated Autumn was at wits end. Searching for Mae outside of the harbor without a trail would likely get them killed.

However, the two were greeted by a rather familiar face.

“Via?”

A fellow Patron of the Highways emerged from the shadows. Again, Autumn and Deiman found themselves in a vacant part of the harbor. The blue-haired woman appeared in a white cloak, carrying a Script in her free hand.

“Autumn.” Via nodded.

An elated face formed on Autumn’s face. She drew close and was about to throw her arms around her for an embrace.

“What are you doing here!? Via it’s been so long–!?”

But something stopped her. The sound of heavy, grinding steel caused her to freeze in place as a pair of eyes emerged from the darkness.

“Via, I would hate to kill a newly appointed Herald for transgression. The Script deems that there can be no physical contact with ‘cherished’ ones for the next 50 hours.”

A massively draped figure followed Via like a bodyguard. It carried a colossal blade behind their back, making them appear larger than they were. The entity’s purple shade of flesh chilled Autumn’s to the core almost as much as her prophetic voice.

“Ah. The season and the fox. I imagined you to be more sacral. Your lance makes up for it, but I am appalled.” The entity spoke.

“A Missionary… of Act X.” Deiman uttered.

“Yours truly sent to deliver you the Will of the Scripts, by the Will of the Scripts… From the very mouth of our beloved Living Loom – Oh Beholder Marionette, our blessed benefactor.” Her oracular mannerisms went beyond that of even the Clockwork Prophet.

This being was something greater than it, and they were unafraid to revel in it, so long as the Scripts did not order them against it.

“I… have no intention of joining –!”

“No one said anything about joining. It is up to you whether you heed the words of the Script or not. Our role is to simply recite its contents to you. You will judge whether it is worthy of your time.” Via quickly interrupted.

Though they were close friends, Via spoke like they were complete strangers. Her eyes were hollow, and her tonality was like that of a monotone puppet.

It was as if the very life of her was sucked dry, leaving behind an empty husk.

She was just like the old Deiman.

“Hear it well.” Via continued as the Missionary slowly moved in the direction of the crowd. “The contents involve a musician you may want to find. A Maestro of some kind. Has that gotten your attention now?”

Autumn gulped, but it seemed that they came with good intentions. If the Amalgam was the Head of the Nexus…

Then that means she’s their boss, right?

Clinging onto this thought, Autumn nodded at a curious Deiman.

“What does it say?”