“We’re called Mono?” asked Dorothy again.

“That’s right. In this realm, colour and Luster are held above all, but there exist some people - for whatever reason - who are devoid of colour and are simply made of blacks and whites, such as us,” explained OZ as he placed his hand to his chest.

“What’s so great about Luster?” said Dorothy with a tinge of disgust as she leaned back in her old, dusty seat.

“Well, putting aside it lets me talk to my pet,” he nodded towards Toto with a soft smile, who was still sitting on top of the nearby bookshelf. “The Brights have had it beaten into them that lacking Luster is a sin, the Brights…being humans who have colour and Luster. They practically resent us, want us dead for sinning against their very soul, and well, who can blame them? Their little city wouldn't look very impressive without its colour.” said OZ with a slight resentment in her voice, not meeting Dorothy’s fully.

“So Luster is all just one big religion? Great…” Dorothy said with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh it very much is, but there's more to their fear than just blind obedience. The brights are all ruled over by one force, one woman, simply known as The Bearer,”

“Is she like a queen or president or something?” asked Dorothy.

“Hmm, think more like an army general,” OZ explained as he slowly paced back and forth. “Whatever monarch that existed before her reign is still intact. The last princess of Diamond city still lives, though, no-one has seen her for years ever since the bearer’s rise to power,” a silence fell over the small room before OZ once again picked the microphone to speak “Regardless of whether the monarch lives however, The Bearer may as well rule this land, she’s transformed everything to revolve around Luster,”

“I really don’t see the appeal in that stuff, it’s hard on the eyes, I don’t see how they find it so great,” Dorthy said dismissively.

“Well, Dorothy, What they find so great about Luster isn't just the myriad of colourful landscapes or the dangerous beasts that their military like to go and hunt…It’s the Astral that they respect the most,”

“Astral is a crystal formed from a certain colour where Luster has condensed into a small form. These orbs can be used by the Brights to use unnatural powers. It’s practically the backbone of their city and military power,” he said in a way like he was trying to be a tutor.

“And this Astral you see, links back to us mono. We are shunned because we cannot use it, only Brights can,”

“What does this have to do with leaving this place,” cut in Dorothy rudely.

“I’m getting to that. There are a variety of different Astral colour’s each doing a different thing and they're all quite rare despite the world being made of the very same essence. But, the only Astral you should be concerned about, however, is the White Astal,”

“What does it do?” Asked Dorothy.

“I don’t know,” Admitted OZ flatly “But from what I’ve seen, practically anything. It may as well be the bread and butter of Diamond City’s function and form. It seems to do whatever The Bearer or…anyone who wields it wishes,”

“And this is important how?” she asked.

“Trust me, once you see Diamond City, or even what the Astral can do in person, you’ll start thinking like me, that its potential is so vast that it can perhaps open a way to your home,” OZ said with a bit of glee in his voice.

“You sound like a homeless man spouting crazy stories off the street,” said Dorothy with a deadpan face, not fully convinced.

“Well, to an extent I am homeless, but I assure you, this story has thinking and some backing,”

“Didn't you just say we can’t use Astral? You clearly didn’t think that through,”

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“White and Black Atral are the exceptions to that,”

“What’s the Black Astral?” with a small smile, OZ’s hand flashed black and became rough and jagged, removing all the light that would be reflected off his skin and looking as black as the night. Then, the black force covering his hand recessed down to his fingers, escaping fully and returning his hand to normal, and leaving behind a black orb in his fingers.

“This, is the Black Astral,” he said, holding it out to Dorothy. She looked at the strange sphere closely, the sphere was the darkest shade of black she had seen, yet she could see into it and it looked almost like it was alive. A dark cloud swirled within the orb gently, with blood-red sparks stirring gently inside.

“So what does it do?” she asked, looking back up to OZ.

“Hold it,” OZ said mysteriously. Hesitant, yet curious, Dorothy stood and reached for the orb, taking into her own fingers. The sphere quickly melted and ran through her fingers travelling through her hand up through her body like water flowing through a tube. The black matter soon found its way to the end of Dorothy’s right shoulder and before she knew it, the black substance had formed her a new arm.

Dorothy was speechless, her once somber and miserable face was now stricken with surprise. She inspected her new arm, taking in its strange form, it had the same shape and size as her old arm, yet her new arm was completely black and reflected no light, with angles and contours only being implied by jagged planes, almost looking like a cliff face with how geometric it looked. Yet, it felt like her arm, it felt exactly like it.

“Well that’s…new,” said OZ, with Toto jumping down from the bookshelf to get a closer look, gazing at the young woman's black arm in awe.

“The black Astral is supposed to cover a part of one’s own body, I was unaware it could form an entirely new limb for the user though,”

Dorothy felt like crying with joy at that moment, so caught up in her emotion of having her arm back in such a short time, even if it was just some strange prosthetic.

“Dorothy, are you ok?” asked Toto

“Toto, give her a moment, this may be a lot for her,” interjected OZ.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said while clearing her throat from the lump she felt forming.

“I won’t mince my words, I do have a request in return for the use of the Black Astral, but I see now is not the time, you’ve had a long day, please, take your time and rest,” with that, OZ left the room, closing the door behind him, and leaving Dorothy to bask in her new limb.

She turned and flexed the arm, though the arm did not flex, it remained the same shape-wise and did not tense or expand, it remained static, yet it was as if she could still feel all the muscles within.

“How does it feel?” asked Toto. Dorothy was so enamoured by her appendage that she took a moment before replying.

“It…feels just like the real thing, but better, it's hard to explain,” Dorthy said, not taking her eyes off it.

“That’s so interesting, it never did anything like that when OZ used it,” Admitted Toto

“OZ used it?”

“Yeah! Well, kinda, he’s kept the Black Astral in his body but never had the courage to use it…says he’s too old now,”

“So if he said he’s never seen it make a new arm then what does he know it can do?” Dorothy asked, Returning her gaze to Toto who stood on the nearest seat, closest to her new arm.

“Well, he’s told me that not only does it let Mono use any colour of Astral, it lets them use it in a much more effective way, but I think he said there was some sort of problem with the method,” explained Toto,

“That…sounds like a lot to take in,”

“Yeah, I'm not very good at explaining this stuff, OZ is better with that, I just like to watch what Astral does mostly,” Toto admitted carefreely.

“Handy…can you at least tell me where I’m staying?” asked Dorothy as she folded her contrasting arms.

“Just down the halls, their rooms repurposed for sleeping in, I can show you if you l-

“I’ll be fine thank you, privacy is what I need, not some dog yelping in my ear,” She said as she opened the door, making sure to leave it open as she was unsure if Toto could open it himself.

Once again she inspected her arm, intrigued by the geometric contours that formed the shape of her muscles. She felt the arm with her other hand, the texture felt like glass, yet, it didn't feel as fragile. In fact, Dorothy thought to herself, would she feel pain from this arm? If not, it could become a very useful asset in combat, though she imagined it would be something she wouldn't show her sparring partners if she did make it home, who knows what they would think of all this?

Dorothy began to miss her home actively now due to that thought, how she missed her daily training sessions, thinking about the last time she sparred how much she missed that feeling, the rush she felt as time came to a stop as she sparred with her opponent, as if her and her enemy were placed within a domain where time stood still. The cricket, however, did not make a good substitute, the risk of death was not worth the thrill to Dorothy.

As her black boots tapped against the cold marble floor, Dorothy passed by the main hall again, she heard the same song from the gramophone playing subtly, increasing in volume as she neared the entryway, before decreasing once again.

Dorothy paused towards the end of the grand, yet cubby hall, as she faced a marble statue that sat next to the door of her destination. A statue of a woman, most likely some sort of mother, as she held someone in her arms. The person she held looked to be lying dead in her embrace, their arm limp and falling to the floor dramatically and the expression she held in her face was one of distress and sadness. Dorothy took in the craftsmanship, admiring its fine details. She wasn’t one for fine arts or anything, but it was undeniably beautiful and worth stopping for.