Human.

Frost didn't feel very different. Not immediately. It didn't take long for her to notice that the sounds of the crowds in the Central Relay were not competing against each other. She could only make out faint murmurs amongst the commotion.

Her hearing was not overstimulated, and her eyes could only see the faces of people who were no further than a handful of meters. Not only that, but she was also not blinded by the combined luminance of the crowd's collective Light.

This was because she could not see their Light anymore. She pinched herself. Once, twice– three times for good measure. She was already aware she was in a dream. The pinch was no more than to test her resistance to pain.

A faint, soft reddening formed where her nails had squeezed the skin of her forearm. Then, she pressed a thumb on her nail and watched as her capillaries paled before they were refilled with a slight delay.

"… It's not instant anymore. My heartbeats aren't pounding. So much is lost in the noise too…"

As overwhelming as it was, the lack of comprehension was comforting. She stood there, absorbed and utterly lost in her regression into a form she could call, with all her heart, as normal.

"Healer? Those tears. Are you in pain?"

"Ah… Sorry. I was just overwhelmed by this."

"This? The Celestial Heavens? Your form?"

"Everything. Everything."

Frost shared a brief exchange with the man without looking up. A handkerchief was presented to her, and she gladly took it to wipe her tears away. Finally, she acknowledged him with curious eyes as she returned it to his waiting hand.

"Garreth?"

The Moons name slipped from her lips.

Garreth was a Seci Response Moon who fought alongside Beholder Jury and the 2nd Branch in the War of Grandis. They had specialized in dual blades and excelled in close quarters combat. Prior to the war they were among the top personnel in the Seci Response when it came to fighting non-Corrupted and non-Impuritas targets.

The reason was because of their high burst damage potential. Often, Garreth the Moon ended battles as soon as they began. Their thighs were twice as large as their torso. Frost could not use 'Status' to view their stats, but she remembered seeing their AGI displayed as 55 with a conditional peak that could reach 80 AGI.

She did not know much about them before she reformed the Nexus. To her surprise, this Moon wore kinder eyes and did not carry the same hollow eyes as Moons of this time.

Her hands rushed to her face, then to her hair. She stared deeply into the Moon's eyes, noticing that her golden eyes were replaced with a beautiful sky-blue sheen. Her hair was shorter, precisely as she remembered when she first arrived in this world.

"Overwhelmed, Healer? Do get used to the title and the role of your bestowed namesake." He gave a light bow with his ears.

"Wait, wait wait wait. What year is it right now?"

Frost asked right before she twirled around, dragging her eyes at the Blessed, the Stars, and the Moons commuting through the Central Relay. Her omnidirectional vision did not work, nor did she sense any latent power inside herself.

"350 PA. Or, 15 PP (Post-Paradise), as some may call it." He answered.

I don't see the color of his heart. The light of his soul is nowhere to be seen. Am I normal? Really? And… Is Iscario here!?

Her sudden alertness caused the Moon's ears to further droop. If that man was here, even in this dream-like state, then she vowed to lob off his head no questions asked. Not even the suppression she felt washing over her could quench the flame of hatred she had for Iscario.

If he was here, then she'd use this dream as a way to conclude what she could not in Grandis. That vitriol almost spilled from her mouth as suppressed curses. That rage did not disappear, even when the Moon lowered himself to a knee in an attempt to calm her down

"Please be at ease, Healer. Until the effects of the Warped Stone lay off, you will be protected by this Moon of the Kusana Tribe."

The Kusuna Tribe (Blade Hunters) were one of thirty-seven tribes of the Bunny Demi-Humans and were among the rare non-pacifist tribes, like the Lusari (Spear Hunters) and the Usachi (Berry Picker) tribes, the latter of which met a terrible fate at the hands of Scarlet Logic.

This information was not something she knew. No, more accurately, it was the last thing she should be thinking about. The suppression forced this information to flood her mind, but once again, it could not stop her from uttering that accursed name.

"Where is Iscario?"

"Iscario? The name is unfamiliar to me." The Moon wore a genuine look of confusion, but his expression suddenly relaxed. "A friend? A companion?"

"A traitor. Where is he? A Star of the Nexus. The Prince of Puritas. The Brightest Star."

"I know no Star of such name. No Stars would dare to name themselves the brightest when all Stars of the Nexus, and only of the Nexus, carry the same luminosity. Puritas only has a princess."

"Ilya… Is she… no. Never mind."

"Ilya?"

"A friend… Or maybe a niece in some aspect?"

"I see the color in your face and your words returning." The Moon ushered her to follow. "Come, Healer. As part of my duty as a Receptionist, and by the decree of–"

*Static*

"–It is a Receptionist's duty to guide the initiate White Dove through our gilded roost. Would you like to be carried?"

Frost blankly blinked.

I didn't hear who he was talking about. What was that?

"Huh. Can you say that again?"

"Would you like to be carried?"

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"No, no. I mean–"

"I jest, Healer. Apologies. It's a bad habit of mine. But it does tend to bring smiles to the faces of Healers."

Garreth wore a refreshing smile, and Frost immediately knew why his lover – a now Sanguine Dove – grieved so heavily when he passed.

Seeing him smile now weighed her heart down.

But at the same time, there was immeasurable relief.

He was alive. Even if it was here. Even if it was a dream.

Garreth spoke again.

*Static* *Ticking*

The only sounds were static and a faint ticking. The words were being actively suppressed. When she called for Nav, only silence responded.

My Healer instincts don't want me to know either. Is that normal for regular Healers too? To have information treated as cognitohazards? Does that mean if I knew who he was talking about, then I'd end up throwing a fit?

Iscario immediately came to mind. After all, the effects were reminiscent of a CognitO Scrambler. However, she could not act. Her Healer instincts kept her tamed. But, despite this, it was not an unpleasant feeling.

"Healer, do you have a name? I'm quite surprised that you recognize mine. I'm ashamed that I do not know yours."

"Frost. Call me Frost."

"Frost. Yet the air you tread only warms in your presence."

Yeah. I can definitely see why she went mad. This guy's got good lines… No, Frost. Don't think about it. No time for jokes here…

Her inner voice sought to find humor in the situation. She didn't know if this was because of her natural tendency to make light of the gloomiest situations, or because her suppression did not allow her to become too immersed in her misery.

If it was the latter, then it was no wonder why Healers rarely Corrupted. The world was aware that Healers were incapable of conceiving a violent thought. Even an action that could cascade into harming another person, such as through a butterfly effect, was impossible to commit.

I know Healers can become depressed. But then you have lunatics like the Scarlet Healers. I wonder if they have a form of suppression that's forcing them to think the way they do… Huh. A coping mechanism might describe it.

Once again, Frost found herself distracted by her thoughts, only to be brought back by the faint laugh of another Moon.

"Garreth. Healers occupying the Residential Floors are awaiting an escort."

"Ah, Laloi. I was just going to bring this one too."

Her heart sank. The antler-horned woman who joined Garreth was another deceased Moon. The empty eyes of a regular Moon filled hers, but Frost could see a faint light within that void.

"Hurry it up. The Mothers are in dire need of additional White Doves to pamper."

"Inflow Direct are of the patient type. Healer, do you mind following us?"

Frost shook her head.

"I have someone I want to find. Raoul. Does that name ring a bell?"

The Moons glanced at each other, and then Garreth peered into the ledger.

"No person comes to mind."

"What about Cer? Ber? Res? The Jesters? The Moon wolf triplets. You know them?"

If this was when she first arrived in the Nexus, then surely, those triplets were also here. She braced herself, ready to hear them point her in their direction.

"No Moon of such names exist." Laloi spoke dismissively. Her tone was absolute.

It suddenly dawned on Frost. This world was devoid of the people she loved.

They did not even exist.

And neither did her enemies.

Her shoulders slumped forward, and she almost uttered another name but kept it to herself.

Jury isn't here either…

Hands caught her when her legs buckled under the realization. The mere thought of a world without Jury caused a void to fill her heart. She bcame lightheaded, but she did not dare to allow herself to faint here at the fear of being trapped in this dream.

However, a twisted part of herself found solace in knowing that if they were not here, and if her enemies were not present either…

… I can just live a normal life… How fucking disgusting… Is that what this dream wants to show me? That being a Healer is the gateway to a better life? I'm already a Healer in real life.

"Healer Frost?" Garreth was concerned by her silence and sudden weakness.

"… Show me more of this place. Let me see more of this damned dream." She was on the verge of breaking out. But suddenly, her stomach growled, and the Moons could not help but wear a fond look.

"Ah, so that is why you nearly collapsed. You have arrived peckish. Come, would you like to eat? The Nexus offers the finest of cuisines from across all Elysia."

"… It's not that I'm hungry… But I do feel pain in my stomach. Down here." Frost brought a hand to her lower abdomen.

When she applied pressure, she felt a dull stinging ache. She felt oddly full, yet she had not eaten.

It was so foreign that she wondered if it was the suppression punishing her with pain. The Moons didn't know what to make of it but seeing that Frost was insistent that she was fine, they began leading her deeper into the Nexus.

* * *

The Common Hub didn't see any changes from when she first entered the Nexus.

But she noticed immediately how information was being censored no matter where she looked. Solid black bars were overlayed on top of words, even though she could not read. Any mention of what she assumed was conflict was also reduced to static.

It became impossible to be exposed to the cruel reality of the world beyond the Nexus. Internal affairs were not spared either. Mentions of Ateliers, followed by a long static scramble, and a mournful expression were enough to convey that something had gone catastrophically wrong.

Yet, she could never be certain. She had blissful ignorance built into her as a Healer. But this was also a source of anxiety for someone like Frost. Once again, a wave of suppression washed over her, quelling the sensation before it could fester.

She passed by the crowd of Adventurers through the black-bricked pathway and was led into a glamorous restaurant. The owner – a man with dog ears – lowered his head before they had stepped foot into the store.

Not only that, but a spread of five courses had been prepared ahead of time for her. Dream logic was now in full effect.

"A seat, Healer Frost." Garreth pulled a seat back for Frost, its legs soundlessly gliding along the waxed floorboards.

"Don't take up too much time. We're on a tight schedule." Laloi clicked on a pocket watch to begin a twenty-five-minute timer.

"Is that the Traumatic Clock?"

Frost wasn't certain since [Appraise Object] did not currently work. Neither did any of her Skills for that matter. Status was another disabled Ability in this dream, mirroring the Condition of the Audition.

"I don't catch on. There is nothing about this clock that makes it traumatic. Unless it is a prefix of a Kingdom's product that I am not yet aware of, then this object is but an old timepiece."

"Pay her manners no mind, Healer Frost. She has [REDACTED] a [REDACTED] to the [REDACTED]."

"… I see."

Frost didn't understand at all. She sensed she had lost someone. Frost recognized the stench of death anywhere.

That said, she picked up a fork and studied the spread before her. Her stomach rumbled, a clear sign that she was indeed hungry. She suddenly welcomed the pain, because she was hungry exclusively because her body required sustenance.

She did not need to eat for the sake of satisfying her hunger.

A meaty stew sat closest to her. Beside it was a chicken that was roasted with many herbs and aromatics. A freshly baked bread steamed behind it, carrying a faint scent of garlic. Then, there was a bowl of exotic mushroom risotto. Finally, a parfait with shaved ice and vanilla ice cream sat at the corner of the table, promising a sweet end to the meal.

The Moons watched her with eager eyes. Frost plunged her fork into a piece of red meat and shoved it into her mouth and bit down.

"O-Ouch!"

A harsh metal clank came from her mouth. She recoiled and nursed her teeth, wincing at the sudden resistance.

But then, her eyes went wide. The pain seemingly disappeared as she chewed on her food.

"… I'm chewing…"

"Healer Frost?"

"The Warped Stone has many anomalous effects. This is the first time I'm seeing it cause one to forget common sense."

She chewed. Her tongue rolled around the meat as she felt its stringy texture. Then, she speared another piece and shoved it into her mouth before she could finish swallowing the last mouthful.

"You were hungry after all." Garreth smiled.

"Quite the appetite for a Healer–"

Laloi ceased speaking. Her eyes fell onto Frost's face where a tear fell down her cheek again.

Texture. To just chew was enough to move Frost to tears. Being able to enjoy food again was a joy she never thought she could experience again. The Maw of the Amalgam was gone. The proof was the surviving fork. The fork fell with a loud clang, and she started eating with her hands.

She dipped chunks of chicken into the soup, used cubes of meat to dab into the risotto, and used the bread as a vessel for the parfait. These were combinations she could easily do as the Amalgam. Taste wise, some of them were horrid, such as garlic bread and ice cream.

But what mattered to her was the combination of textures. The only way she could sense texture as the Amalgam was by using her tongue to roll over her food. However, the digestive enzymes of her saliva did not allow her to experiment very much.

Bread fizzled away before she could enjoy its fluffiness. The stringy texture of meat was seldomly enjoyed as well before her tongue mashed it into a paste against the roof of her mouth.

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