Chapter 13: A scene rarely seen.

I felt a sudden presence behind me, prompting me to swiftly turn my vision around. Standing before my body was a familiar figure—a translucent, glowing white being with a humanoid shape. Strangely, it had multiplied heads sprouting from the swirling mass of hands and feet around its torso.

A ghost?

A sound, “A… A. A… A… Bbbbbbb… a…” echoed all around, seemingly coming from no specific direction but filling the space at once.

Someone like me? What is it saying? As I stared at the ghostly figure with confusion, its multiple faces appeared bewildered as I was. 

“You… trapped. Help. you. Escape.”

Huh?

Before I could comprehend the words spoken by the ghost, its transparent form was suddenly blown away with a loud boom, disappearing in an instant. Then in its place, stood an unfamiliar figure, dressed in a uniform similar to a Guardian. Short brown hair framed with a face, and glowing red eyes peered at my fallen body, bearing striking similarities to that of an Aegir male.

Why? Why did the Guardian do that to the Ghost? I gazed up at his imposing stature, noticing the tight grip on his sword. He intently meant to harm the Ghost…. But why? What did that Ghost do to deserve such a thing?

I must move. I have to flee, or else… Or else, I would be next—a Nameless Ghost. As my senses returned to my body, I quickly took control and moved away, far from the Guardian. Summoning what strength remained in my ruined arms, a loud thud and scraping sounds echoed as my metallic frames gripped the ground, moving slowly.

Mana… I have to use my Mana. I need to run away. 

Frantically gathering my Mana, I watched as the Guardian sharply pivoted around, his sword glowing as it remained unsheathed in his hand. With a commanding tone and an intense pressure that warped my surroundings, he questioned. “Who is this? I have never met you before. Are you perhaps one of those Ghosts?”

The sword screeched against the floor, sending sparks of crimson light scattered to the air. Am I next? Is he going to destroy my body too?

“Halt, Minos.” —A familiar voice cut through the tension, halting the Guardian on his step and turning his gaze towards it, and I followed suit. 

Kreva’eh carried another figure, a Guardian. Its body was badly damaged, missing most of its limbs, with only its head and one leg remained. I could even see the insides of its frame, while, black liquid came pouring from its wounds around their neck. Didn’t she call that Guardian Beryan?

“Hah? What’s the meaning of this, Squad Leader Kreva’eh?” The Guardian spoke, pulling his sword up into the air and pointing it towards her. 

“The Servitor project.” Kreva’eh stated, surprising the Guardian with a startle. “This individual appears to be in its second phase.”

The Guardian turned to me, eyes widening in disbelief as he repeated, “The Eternal Servitor Project”

Servitor Project? Next Phase? What did she mean by that?

The Guardian turned towards Kreva’eh, who stood before him. Silently, she handed Beryan to the Guardian while taking his weapon in his hands. As he whispered just loud enough for me to hear, he asked, “Does that mean… the Project was successful?”

“I can’t declare this a complete success. Just because one happens to enter the next phase does not equate to success. At the very least, we have something we can examine,” Kreva’eh remarked, placing the Guardian’s sword back into its sheath. As she leaned over, she whispered to the damaged Beryan, “I will take care of you. Sleep for now.”

I am struggling to understand her words. Is she referring to me? Was the topic about me? What did she mean by that? Thinking about it, the Guardian tried to destroy my body and was only stopped because I am in the next phase of the Servitor Project. What does that mean? Doesn’t that also mean that the other Ghost wasn’t in the same phase as me and got harmed? I find myself perplexed, frustrated by this unfamiliar information about my own being.

Confusion swirled in my mind, making it difficult to understand anything clearly. Suddenly, I noticed Kreva’eh on her knees, her hand poised for a carrying motion, and I took this chance, hurriedly speaking, “What exactly did  you mean by that? Why did you destroy that Ghost, and why am I not being destroyed?”

Ignoring my words, Kreva’eh simply lifted me into her arms, stating, “Given your limited vocabulary, I highly doubt you can comprehend.”

“Just tell me anyway,” I demanded, feeling my Mana wavering. “Why… Why did you protect me from the white-haired Captain? What is it you want from me?”

“You can ask me while your body is being repaired,” She said firmly. “So not now.”

“Why? I want to hear it now.”

“Nameless Ghost, do not make this more difficult. I will disrupt your Mana if that can buy your silence.”

Is this a threat? Why is she doing this? I’m confused. Even though she acknowledged my higher position. Even though Pheleppeides said I would be given better treatment if I told my position. So why… Why am I being treated like this? Am I still not considered a member of Aeonian?

“Good.” Kreva’eh remarked, “Continue with that attitude, and you will get what you desire.”

Suddenly, the sounds of footsteps approached from behind, causing her to shift her gaze forward as if I was no longer of interest. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated, a sensation I despised the most.

I must escape, away from them. These are not the Guardians I once knew; they are imposters, using the bodies of Aeonian to become fake Guardians. I attempted to control my ruined body once more, yet it stubbornly refused to obey no matter how hard I tried. This body… I have no choice but to abandon it.

Kreva’eh’s words grabbed my attention, turning my vision to who she was talking to, “It appears you are not being carried this time around, Selven.”

“Please,” a Guardian with long, pale pink hair replied, approaching Kreva’eh with confident steps. “I was caught off guard yesterday.”

Who is this individual? Why are there so many Guardians—fake Guardians here? I thought bodies needed Aerex power to function. So why are they moving when the Core is not even functioning? These must be impostors. It is more than a decade since Core had gone offline, and the true Guardians I know would prioritize repairing Aeonian first.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. Wait a moment, Selven. I don’t seem to see your squad, where are they?”

Selven took a quick glance at my body as she passed by, before turning her attention to the fallen fake Guardian being carried by another. ”Following behind, but I went ahead when I saw you being chased by a Wandering Ghost. And before you say anything, no, I was never, under any circumstances, worried about you. I mean, who would be?”

“But you say it as if you do,” chuckled Kreva’eh as the edges of her lips curved upward.

She smiled… a smile different from before. It felt genuine.

“Tsk, Tsk,” Selven clicked her tongue, gesturing with an index finger, “Kreva’eh, my dear friend, your narcissistic tendencies are showing.”

 “Selven, since you arrived early, gather the memory fragments in the area. Beryan’s squad was defeated by a Nefarious Poltergeist.”

With overly gestures of her hand, Selven replied, “How about no? Instead, I have a wonderful idea. You can collect the Memory Fragments, and I will return to my squad as several are severely injured.” 

“Minos, help Selven gather the Memory Fragments. I will go ahead to the Gallaria.” 

“Tsk, you’re not even listening.”

Before I knew it, Kreva’eh sprinted across the room in an instant. My vision distorted as it struggled to keep up with the abrupt movements. I closed my eyes, feeling my body lurch forward with each of Kreva’eh’s steps, as the burst of speed gradually slowed down to a gentler pace.

As I opened my eyes, I found myself staring at a large hall with a dome ceiling. I saw a path of dark blue carpet with golden yellow streams on its sides. Beyond the streams, statues of naked Aegirs in various glorified poses stood. The path led to the center of the room, where a ray of purple light illuminated the space below: a small garden, shining and sparkling in the light.

Between the statues, the sight of paintings and various unknown forms of art displayed behind glass panels that extended throughout the space. The artwork varied in size and shape, with some depicting the skulls of fictional dragons, and others showing clusters of unidentified objects with eyeballs on their surfaces.

What is this place? Is this the Gallaria that I have been hearing about?

Suddenly, I heard snickers and voices in the distance, grabbing my attention. Turning towards the noise, I noticed Kreva’eh was heading in that direction with my body held tight in her arms. As I looked closer, I noticed a group of fake Guardians filling what appeared to be a small resting area.

Why were there so many Guardians—Fake Guardians? And why now? It had been a decade since the power outage, and yet the Core remained offline, never once repaired. So why? Why are these imposters functioning, but not the Core itself? They must have done something to Aeonian.

One of the fake Guardians facing our direction noticed Kreva’eh approach, making a large waving gesture. Soon, the others began to mimic the actions of the first one, while some started to move closer.

One guardian suddenly appeared out of nowhere besides Kreva’eh, exclaiming, “Pretty silent as ever, Vice-captain Kreva’eh.” 

“Fast as ever, Hymir.” She replied.

Then came multiple fake Guardians and spoke all at once, my mind went blank. Their voices overlapped, making it difficult to follow their rapid words and the constant change of topics. I lifted my vision above the crowd of Guardians’ heads, hoping for a clearer view of the situation, yet couldn’t shake the feeling of suffocation that enveloped me.

Kreva’eh was led to the resting area and laid beside her. I could see her hand wrapped around my waist, drawing me close. As fake Guardians surrounded us, she continued to interact with them, smiling and sharing jokes and laughter throughout.

I gazed at the lively scene before me, a bustling atmosphere in a place typically quiet. It felt like a scene straight out of the novels I had read, a sight too vibrant to imagine myself in. The pictures of the Aeonian members, their gatherings and happy times—that should have been in Aeonian, yet they had been absent for over a decade.. 

It was clear that this was not real Guardians… Otherwise, I would be fitting with them.

Suddenly, a small, white-haired fake Guardian appeared, barely half the size of my body. He pointed at me and asked, “So, what’s this one for? Creating a new body?”

This time, I received a different reaction. Instead of pointing a weapon at me with disdain, the fake Guardians were filled with curiosity about my body. 

“Yeah, you weren’t damaged last time or this time,” another fake interjected with a nod, “and I don’t remember you lacking frames in the Sanctum. Is this for an upgrade?”

Is it because I haven’t moved much that they think it’s just a body? Turning my vision to my body, I saw it was badly damaged, far worse than I anticipated. I leaned closer to assess the extent of the damages since I forgot to do so earlier. Oh, my gun, along with other items, were no longer there, not even my Three-Key.

“I will inform you shortly after I have organized the information with the Captain,” Kreva’eh said firmly, tapping on my shoulders with her arm draped around my waist.

Don’t touch it. This is my body. As much as I want to protest my dislike, I don’t want the fakes to suddenly turn aggressive. With so many fakes around, I doubt I can escape that easily, especially with Kreva’eh insane mobility. And… And… Wait, right. That white-haired captain isn’t here anymore! I can escape passing through walls!

As wild thoughts raced through my head, my vision fell upon the letters still writhing on my skin, particularly around my neck, slithering across parts of my body. No, I can’t. I can’t escape. Observing my body, I couldn’t help but think that abandoning it would be the best choice for a successful escape, since I doubt those letters would be present in my form.

Many fake Guardians expressed either wonder or discontent towards Kreva’eh firm words, with some even protesting and demanding answers.

“Oh, is this body for a Mobile Core Project you guys have been designing?”

The fake’s dialogue made me turn my head to it. Mobile Core? What does that mean? 

“You are free to think whatever you like,” Kreva’eh suggested with a smile. 

“Ohh! I knew it! I knew it!”

What does that mean?

The crowd applauded for the fake before abruptly falling silent and turning their heads in unison. wondering what had captured their attention, I followed their gaze and heard the echoing sounds of heavy footsteps. I watched as groups of fake Guardians emerged from the sea of enclosed glass displaying various art forms.

I saw the familiar figure of fakes named Selven and Minos, with the latter carrying the fallen Beryan on his back. Behind them, several more fake Guardians carried various devices and fallen fakes.

Are they stealing something? A thought crossed my mind before turning my gaze to the crowd. In comparison to the approaching fakes, the ones at rest didn’t appear to be carrying anything made from Aeonian, as far as I could tell.

“It seems like Beryan’s and Selven’s Squadron were attacked this time around,” someone mentioned in the crowd.

‘Attacked… Attacked by a Ghost, right?’ I pondered. A sudden realization struck me, ‘There were no books with information about me or Ghost, but if there are others like me in Aeonian who truly care for it, the only reason for attacking these Guardians must be because they are impostors. A true Guardian wouldn’t face such attacks if they were allied in the first place.’

“Hey!” Selven waved excitedly in the distance, the only one among the group with empty hands.

As I pondered further, a thought followed —‘Aeonian must have been offline because the Guardians killed their creators. This must be the reason why the Singularity issue hasn’t been resolved. I recalled a novel I read once where creations rebelled against their creators.’

I suddenly heard a loud piercing sound in the distance, growing louder by the second. Without a word, the fakes all stood up and prepared themselves, while some started running off in a certain direction.

“Damn it! I just got here!” Selven claimed angrily, her lips pursed in frustration.

“Better hurry, don’t be late and miss the train, Selven!” One of the others called out as they dashed off.

Train?

I noticed Kreva’eh silently scooped up my body in her arms and began running through the fakes. Uncertain of their destination, I felt slightly disoriented as my floating vision followed, without my control.

The distorted vision caused by Kreva’eh’s movement ceased as she came to a stop in front of the wall of the room. Within it was a door, almost obscured among the fakes. Despite the noisy crowd, they exited through the small door in an orderly manner. Kreva’eh followed slowly among the fakes.

As the crowd enveloped Kreva’eh’s figure, some continued to talk to her until they reached the next room, which opened up to a balcony. My vision floating, I glanced around the balcony slowly filling with fakes, while others stood at the railings, and some were seen walking effortlessly along the walls. 

“It’s here!” exclaimed someone in the crowd.

The source of the loud, piercing sounds grew louder, causing many to jump off the balcony. Curious about the origin, I guided my floating vision through the crowd and spotted a long, familiar figure, something I had read about multiple times in the books.

The long cylinder, with multiple sections tied in one line—a floating train, crept along at a slow speed, contrary to what the books described. I observe the fakes leaping from the balcony onto the train, with some nearly falling but being saved by others.

Without warning, Kreva’eh swiftly followed, briefly pausing at the railing before taking the leap. My floating vision was dragged along, following my body carried by Kreva’eh. She adjusted her position slightly as if foreseeing the vacant landing spot. Below the train, I could see a vast expanse of trees extended into the distance, and I could even make out the borders of the Aeonian’s realm. 

In a blink, Kreva’eh smoothly landed in the train with a resounding thud, accompanied by several fakes. Now that I am close enough, the train was even larger than I had anticipated, almost the size of the pathways that interconnected the levels of Aeonian.

As I turned my head, I caught sight of the grand structure of Aeonian for the first time. The shape was indiscernible; was it a castle, a fortress, a cluster of objects intertwining to form its distinctive exterior, showcasing countless balconies leading to unseen rooms. 

The strange amalgamation of shapes seemed unlike anything I had seen in Aeonian, where attention to appearance was important. However, I found the structure oddly fascinating. In a way, the mishmash of elements seems to form a perfect combination.

 My gaze drifted downwards to see the foundation, and that’s when I noticed the ground—or was it a floating ground?

Unlike the distant sea of trees, the Aeonian foundation featured a flat land that seemed abrupt when compared. It almost appeared as if the Aeonian was floating above the trees. Then my attention was dragged back to the fakes as they swarmed the top of the train. They all moved towards the crevice leading inside the train, disappearing into its depths.

“See you later, Kreva’eh.” said someone as they passed Kreva’eh

“You too,” she replied. “Wait, you’re injured. Come with me to the Ports-swins.”

“Nah, it's fine. I’ll get it replaced when we arrive at the Sanctum.”

“Suit yourself.”

Suddenly, my floating vision moved without my control and I noticed Kreva’eh walking towards the foremost front compartment. Once arrived, she entered one of the holes by jumping down. Compared to the resting area, this space was noticeably less crowded, but filled with numerous body frames and devices.

“Wait here, I will get some tools to repair your body.” Kreva’eh said.

Kreva’eh placed my body on one of the beds and walked towards the front, passing through a door that slid sideways and entered. Left completely alone in this moving train compartment, I knew I had to escape. It was my only chance. 

Using my Mana, I attempted to manipulate my body with telekinesis in order to free myself from the threading-myr binding my form to this body. I didn’t need to see what was going on inside my body as it was quite easy as I had familiarized myself with it. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” A familiar voice shouted from a distance.

Startled, I didn’t stop as I tried to focus. I sense someone sprinting towards me, but hastily used my Mana to successfully unravel the threading-myr. Before I knew it, Kreva’eh grabbed my body on its shoulder, pushing it against the wall, while my transparent ghostly form remained still.

Her eyes widened as she caught sight of two of my figures. She muttered with surprise. “You… The one wh—” 

Before she could finish her speech, I quickly summoned my telekinesis to hurl Kreva’eh crashing into the wall opposite from mine, then I phased through the wall behind.

Without hesitation, I chose to free-fall into the dense forest below, using telekinesis to accelerate my descent and aid my escape. Glancing at the dwindling Mana displayed on my HUD, I don’t think I have enough to float toward Aeonian currently. The train had already covered a great distance from Aeonian.

I knew I had to hide, so this actually benefits me. Yet, even though I had resolved to escape, I couldn’t shake the aching sensation throughout my being.

As I continued to fall, the train appeared to move forward. It seems they are not pursuing me. When I shifted my focus to the floating Aeonian, the gap between us gradually widened, intensifying the aching sensation. My escape was abrupt, so to my parting with Aeonian.

Wait for me, my Aeonian, I will save you from those fakes.

Suddenly, the floating object vanished from sight, as if the Aeonian had never existed, leaving my mind blank.

What?