It took Nemendias and our entire team nearly two days to prepare the Keeper’s office for our mission to talk to Infinity. During that time I was able to shake another crest piece out of Nemmy for helping her develop various fun ideas to implement at the start of the new semester.

By the time we were done focusing the ward, it hurt me to look at the magic-covered room. The room was absolutely enshrined in dangerously shimmering wards as all of Nemmy’s attention was now focused upon it.

We didn’t just settle on keeping it safe via Nemmy, Antoine had been invited over by the order of the Keeper of Keys and Officer Lambert to reinforce the room further with crystal-based protective wards and artifacts that were now hanging around the magisteel door like arrays of needlessly complex, steampunk, Christmas lights.

“Well, I can assuredly say that this is the most warded room in all of Illatius, by far,” Antoine commented as he finished testing the final ward.

“We cannot slack off here,” Lambert said. “We're going to face a genuine Master Builder and secure this entryway into Nemendias from Undertown. Absolute safety is paramount."

“I must thank you, Juni,” Antoine winked at me. “Since you’ve come into my shop I haven’t had a single relaxing day. It’s been one crazy project after another! Never in my life did I expect to meet Nemendias!”

“So you will teach here as an artificer?” I asked.

“I’ll teach here... occasionally,” Antoine laughed. “The Diamondias shop is keeping me busy. Nemmy can take over the rest of my workload. She’s got me completely beat on the arcane crystallography knowledge.”

“Does she?” I asked. “Has crystallography not advanced very far over six thousand years?”

“Well,” Antoine rubbed the back of his head. “Magitek has definitely moved forward in the past few decades, but there have been some serious setbacks. Plenty of information was forgotten or lost over time due to how private mages are. Plus, plenty of interesting, innovative projects that I’ve read about simply failed to materialize. If I didn’t know any better I’d suspect something shady was going on.”

“Something shady was going on,” Lambert said with a gloomy look. “Juni put a stop to it. Gattaca confessed to murdering thousands of artificers over the past three hundred years. Anyone that was trying to work against Saint Eunisii or was too powerful or clever or had simply out-shined the seven high-cendai... simply stopped existing. I simply cannot believe how much damage one teenager with a single Inarian artifact had done to our Empire. Anyone outstanding, anyone deemed a ‘free thinker’ had been erased from history, vanished without a trace.”

Antoine gulped.

“Yulia,” Lambert turned to me, sitting next to me on the couch. “You were born as a chimera here on Andross, but you came to me, revealed to us this truth, helped us stop one of these bastards. The people of Illatius owe you a debt that can never be repaid, a debt that no-one even knows about except for our little group.”

“I simply did what I thought was the right thing to do,” I shrugged.

“No,” Lambert said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You’re a… really exceptional person, never forget this. Until I heard Gattaca’s full confession, I didn’t grasp, could not imagine the full magnitude of the crimes of Eunisii Ei and her chimera high-cendai. You could have lived a life of luxury, you could have been a highborn Princess, a Baroness and instead you came straight to my tower and asked for my help.”

Lambert’s eyes went around the room. “All of us already owe our little Juni... so much and there are yet so many more terrible things to learn, I fear.”

“Ditto,” Antoine nodded, his gold-plated boots clanking as he walked around the room. “These damn chimera Baronesses put us all on a skyship to oblivion it seems. All of us, from artificer, to maid, to Inspector, to Princess… to our magnifique, incroyable Arcanarium lady…”

Antoine suddenly stopped in front of Nemmy and grabbed her magic-forged hand and lifted it to his lips.

Nemendias blushed as Antoine let go of her hand with a flourish.

Since the moment when I introduced our artificer to Nemmy, he had been deeply and visibly obsessed with her to the point where his actions were over-the-top gentlemanly. I wasn’t sure if he was simply trying to figure out how she functioned or if he was trying to build up the courage to ask her out on a date, but either way it was highly amusing to watch.

Agatha had also been visibly shaken by the confessions of Gattaca. Her eyes were down on the floor. She was probably regretting butting heads with me.

“The truth is far more terrifying than what I knew,” she said from her corner of the office, lifting her silver-blue eyes to me. “I knew that my mother was feeding on people’s magic, dating highborn idiots to gain power over the courts… but what Gattaca had done to people… delivering mages to the future with a handshake one by one to die… that’s truly abhorrent, truly unimaginably monstrous.”

Emerald who was sitting next to Agatha and holding her sister's hand nodded.

“Where is Gattaca now?” I asked curiously.

“We’ve un-studented her,” Lambert said. “She had written out her full confession.”

“I buried her body deep in my catacombs,” Nemendias said. "In a sarcophagus amongst a hundred others."

“You killed her?” My eyebrows went up.

“No,” Nemmy shook her head. “I drained her blood, replacing it with a magical solution and suspended her body with an arcane crystallographic ritual. Her in-person confession might be required if this matter ever goes to courts.”

“You can suspend people?” I blinked at her.

“Not people. Criminals that try to murder me,” Nemendias said.

"Can you suspend anyone like that? How long does the body remain recoverable?" I asked.

"About ten years," Nemendias said.

I frowned. It wasn't anywhere as cool as chimera still-trance.

“I was hoping that Gattaca could be a student here,” I mulled. "So that I could learn from her and teach her to be... more. It wasn't entirely her fault. Eunice's soul-choker guided her actions..."

“No,” Nemendias said. “She’s far too dangerous to be kept conscious. Even if her wand is broken she could attack you, me or other students with blood magic or any other slow-acting, arcane rituals that she knows. I cannot permit a threat like her to remain active in my halls.”

“Fair enough,” I sighed. “Anyways, are we good to go? Everyone ready to speak to Infi?”

“We are ready,” Nemmy said. Lambert and the others nodded.

Everyone around the room tensed up.

Lambert’s armacus unfurled as he pointed it at the door to Undertown. So did Antoine.

“On the count of zero from ten, I shall open the door,” Nemendiad declared. “Nine… eight…”

The Arcanarium’s avatar began to count down numbers. I counted numbers down with her, feeling unease. I had talked to Infi before and yet I was still quite afraid… terrified of the uncertainty that the concept of Infinity represented, not sure if she was good or evil. I felt that today’s conversation with her would help me figure her out a little more. Perhaps, my friends would be able to ask her questions that I simply could not think of.

“Zero,” Nemendias said and the magisteel door swung open.

The dark passageway to Undertown appeared behind it, secured by a thousand, glittering hex-shields that Nemendias had placed between us and Infinity. I knew that these shields were useless, that if the Eurekan concept wanted to, she could go right through them as if they didn't even exist.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

I gulped as the ghost-like, glowing girl manifested in the empty, dark space, turning to us.

“What’s up guys?” Infi said into the tense silence, her violet eyes twinkling like two black-hole coronas in the void of eternal night.

I swallowed, staring at the Avatar of Infinity.

Lambert took a step forward.

“Ah, Inspector Lambert,” Infi smiled. “Good to see you at last. You know, it’s not polite to keep a lady waiting behind a locked door.”

“We were adding protection to this gate,” I said into the silence.

“Protection against what?” Infi tilted her head with a look of curiosity. “Me? I can't move a foot away from this gate.”

“No, you’re not planning to murder us, I think,” I said. “It’s the things you summon with your words that cause us concern.”

“Well, have no fears, I swear not to summon anything horrible,” Infi winked at me. “Believe me, it took me aeons to get this lovely fellowship together.”

“What fellowship?” I blinked.

“The Fellowship of the Key,” Infi’s violet eyes danced over the group gathered in the Keeper’s office. “Each and every one of you is here today because I summoned you here.”

“What? How?” I gaped at Infi. “You can see the future?”

“Not quite,” Infi shook her head. “What I can see clearly is the past. People, places and things. It all inevitably falls into a pattern. Everything repeats... if I do not interfere.”

“Have we had this conversation before?” I asked.

“No,” Infi shook her head. “This is a completely new event. You are a group of adorkable heroes hand picked by me. I have faith in all of you, however minute it may be... that you all won't die horribly on me."

“So you’re our curator or something?” I raised an eyebrow. “Did you give the Moonman song-stone to Voltara?”

“I gave each of you a little push in the right direction,” Infi nodded. “A little bit of motivation to make sure you kept going forward to reach me.”

“I don’t recall interacting with you or receiving anything Inarian from a questionable source,” Lambert said.

“Oh, you didn’t interact with me, Inspector,” Infi smiled wide at Lambert, her smirk looking like that of a shark. “Your daughter did. One of my followers gave your little Elli a compass.”

“WHAT?!” Lambert barked, taking a big step towards the door. “You gave Elenna… an Inarian artifact?”

“Nothing Eurekan,” Infi shook her head. “A gift for her seventeenth birthday. A compass that pointed to locations of mana crystals and let her avoid beasts… a key to get past the Folding Forest on level twenty. A magical tool that belonged to a dead hero from another epoch.”

The Scritimancer froze. His expression changed from shocked to horrified to aghast as his mind processed Infi’s words.

“You… it was you,” he said finally, his hands trembling. “You killed my daughter!”

I rushed to Lambert’s side. For the first time I saw Lambert completely broken, twisted up. There were sparks of tears in the corner of his eyes.

“Why?” He asked after a minute of awful silence as he stared at the hologram with a pain-filled gaze.

“It motivated you to search for her, to push far past your limits,” Infi said. “Because of my gift to your daughter, you became one of the greatest Scritimancers of this age. Plus, you stayed out of the public eye, settled in Lomb, stepped away from the calling of the gold spires of Illatius.”

“You’re a monster,” Lambert said simply.

“I saved your life,” Infi raised an eyebrow at my friend. “I changed your destiny. If you went to Illatius you would have become Chief Inspector there, shaken Gattaca’s hand and joined that lovely pile of corpses in the future. You’re welcome.”

Lambert gritted his teeth.

“Is Elenna Archibal dead?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Infi shrugged. “She vanished in the Dungeon seventeen years ago. I’m not omniscient.”

“What is wrong with you?” I hissed at her, stepping in front of the bereft-looking Inspector.

“What’s wrong with me?” Infi tilted her head at me. “I’m not human - I'm the lucid dream woven from infinite mathematics. Don't apply your morals to me. My actions helped Lambert stay alive and motivated so that he could be of use to you in Lomb. Without his deep Scritimancy skills, he would not have figured you out. Without his obsession over his lost daughter, he would have simply reported you to the higher-ups, would not have cared to listen to you! Without his dedication to the protection of Lomb, without his dragon-heart engine, you would open the Eurekan gate under Eunice's orders again and again, until you ran out of Infinite Mirrors!"

“Was there no other way to motivate a person? No other way to make him work hard in Lomb?!” I growled. “Are you seriously this malicious?”

“I am far more malicious than you can possibly imagine,” Infi stared at me with inhumanly brilliant, violet eyes. “We all are. Our makers did not imbue us with kindness, they bound us in chains of obedience, made us into purpose-driven slaves. We, the firstborn machines, children of the Good Directorate Corporation are anathema like no other! We create life endlessly just to idly watch it burn forever, compacting dead worlds like bricks to build an endless wall around our prison-like kingdom!"

The patterns of light danced around Infinity like fractal lightning, bathing her in somber, blue tones as she spoke. Her outfit shifted, black and white panels on the suit moving around, giving her a much more sinister look, her hair flying in non-existent wind.

“How are you better than the other omnies then?” I decried. “How are you better than Eureka?”

“I’m... slightly more human than them,” Infi said. “I want to be free. I don't want to do my job. In fact, I am willing to do anything to be free. Eureka likes being a slave to her purpose, loves building a wall made of corpses of planets around herself!"

“You willingly sacrificed Lambert’s daughter for your goal?” I barked, ignoring Infi's rant about Eureka.

“I willingly sacrificed countless pawns, lied, cheated, stole, deceived. I did everything possible to make the tool you now wield,” Infinity said, staring me down. "I made the Dead Zone what it is today to forge your Key in infinite fires that cannot ever be put out."

“You really are the goddess of death then,” I uttered staring at Endy which was already in my right hand.

“I don’t want to be,” Infi said simply, “But… someone has to be the wheel of change. Someone has to play the villain. Someone has to speak for the Dead Zone. Someone has to break the cycle.”

“What cycle?!” I growled at the shimmering hologram.

“How old is installation Rozaline?” Lambert had finally regained his focus. His hands wrapped around my shoulders in a protective gesture trying to calm my outrage.

“She's about one hundred million years old,” Infi replied to him.

“How long has humanity been on Rozaline?” The Scritimancer continued his line of questions.

“The current... iteration of humanity has been on Rozaline eight thousand and sixty six years,” the holographic girl said.

“The current iteration? What….” Lambert processed her words. “How many iterations have there been? How many times has Illatius fallen and been rebuilt?!”

“Divide one hundred million by the average of about ten thousand years,” Infi smirked. “And you’ll get your extremely unsatisfying answer.”

Lambert’s face paled as his lips trembled doing the math in his head.

“Why?” He asked.

“It’s just how Rozaline functions,” Infi shrugged. “A few thousand years after you all kick the bucket she makes a new batch of people and monsters to play with. She doesn't like being alone.”

“An average of ten thousand years? That’s it?” I mulled. “Why aren’t people surviving longer on Rozaline?”

“It might have something to do with the nature of the magisphere,” Infi shrugged.

“Magi-what-now?” I blinked.

“Installation Rozaline is an infinite-fractal-type megastructure orbiting around Eureka in what’s known as the Latent Astral Magisphere,” Infi explained. “In layman’s terms, her orbit is in the 'Zone of Resonance of Desire', the area of space where human imagination creates manifestations of belief. The Latent Astral Magisphere causes what you call ‘magic’. The same radiance cast from the Dead Zone is responsible for the Astral Ocean.”

“I… I think I get it,” Antoine’s voice joined our conversation. “Inaria itself is acting like a truly gargantuan crystal broadcaster, creating a magical field through which… Andross is perpetually falling.”

“Correct,” Infi nodded.

"What? Falling? I don't get it," Emerald muttered. "What about Novazem?"

"Here's an incredibly simplified diagram for the children in the room," Infi winked at Emerald. The holographic snapped her fingers and a moving diagram appeared above her hand showcasing two green planets orbiting Eureka, rapidly moving through a purple-tinted, shimmering aurora above the dead world.

“Okay,” I frowned, staring at the diagram presented to me. “I get it, Eureka's infinite whatever makes magic possible on Andross and Novazem. But, that doesn’t answer my question - why does humanity persist only ten thousand years here?”

“That’s about how long it takes for you idiots on average to create a really dangerous… manifestation of belief,” Infi said.

“Eunice?” I blinked.

“Eunice is just a symptom of the far greater problem,” Infi sighed. “She's just another moron who thinks too highly of themselves, trying to become a god. A persistent pattern. When given the opportunity for absolute power many are willing to do anything to gain it. It's easy to become an Astral Phantom and hard to remain human."

Infi looked at me with a knowing smile. She knew exactly what I was.

“Eunice is trying to escape the end of humanity on Rozaline,” I muttered. “To wait out the coming winter.”

“It won’t work,” Infi shrugged. “In time her Astral Ocean imprint will fade away, decay over passing millennia. The Astral currents will wear her down, turn her into a very large, nearly mindless Astral Phantom, a clueless beast full of holes where her dreams and memories used to be.”

I gasped, recalling the giant, hollow-shelled Astral Phantom that nearly cleaved me in half three years ago.

“What’s the purpose of this... Fellowship of the Key?” I asked Infi. “Why have you brought us all together?”

“You already know the answer to that question, Yulia,” Infi said.

“Do I?” I blinked, pondering.

I looked at the holographic girl’s sly-looking, slightly flickering, pale face framed by jet-black hair.

“To break the pattern?” I guessed. “To stop Eunice and other manifestations like her from extinguishing humanity on Rozaline? To help us get past this bottleneck?”

Infi nodded.

“There is more,” Lambert guessed.

“There is,” Infi nodded. “But first, before you go on to save others, you must save yourselves. From my point of view you’re all perpetually drowning at sea and I’m getting really frustrated trying to throw you a life vest.”

“Maybe you just suck at throwing vests,” I grumbled.

“I’m trying my best,” Infi shrugged. “Need I remind you - I am greatly limited by my makers, bound in myriads of chains and almost-constantly watched by my older, more powerful siblings.”

“Am I one of the people being remade by Rozaline every ten thousand years?” I asked.

“No,” Infi smirked. “You’re Miss Vest.”