< “Can you bear to wear the weight of what is given?” >

 

Its chants could be heard by all who approached it.

An object shaped like glass slippers spoke into the minds of the living. Its compulsive, tantalizing voice beckoned its victims to wear it on their feet. Both men and women alike were not spared by its siren call.

 

< “If it fits so conveniently then you should give in.” >

 

The thing beat like a heart, its voice spoken in many tongues but united as a wrathful choir. A sermon was held around the outer perimeter of the object which sat in the center of a great hall. Dazzling light radiated from the object, which was raised on a podium for all to witness.

It was a pair of crystal slippers, but they were not transparent despite this. Each face of the slipper revealed the silent cries of distorted figures, as if they were trapped inside of the object.

They were highly animated, to the point where one could feel their desperation at a single glance. Furthermore, some of the figures trapped within were identical to the Shells that overwatched the procedure, holding red chandeliers as they blankly stared at the new round of volunteers.

The hall was once used as a gathering place within the palace. Exactly fifty statues depicting heroes and great leaders of Puritas lined the enclosed, circular walls of the hall. Pale lanterns powered by magic banished the dark as chained Demi-humans holding a candlelight entered through a pair of gloriously embellished double doors.

 

< “Who wears who when you put them on?” >

 

They moved in a double-filed line, their eyes darting wildly to the unfamiliar place. Red-hooded servants of the Mad Slippers escorted them deeper into the chamber towards a sole figure who stood beside the malevolent object like its owner.

Amongst the Demi-humans were Shells who had already underwent the cruel procedure. An unknown compulsion drew the terrified Demi-humans and humans who had found themselves drawn to this place, whether by tales of destiny or riches associated with the item.

The red-coated cultists were solely humans and did not possess the same dullness as the Shells. But even so, they were compelled to serve the Mad Slippers as if they had lost all semblance of self.

Crazed could not begin to describe the look in their eyes which were covered by venetian masks made from red ribbons. The masks distorted their faces as though they emitted an intense heat, warping their features to preserve anonymity amongst themselves.

These masks were a part of the Mad Slippers.

It was a Token given to those it had deemed worthy to find its rightful owner.

 

* * *

 

The Stars were not the only things that could give Gifts. Corrupted, like the One Thousand Eyed Bird which had given its feathers to the triplets, was one such Gift. Though for Corrupted, they were specifically called Tokens.

Tokens were essentially materials, an item, or a piece of a Corrupted that was given as a proof of their Bond.

A Bond was a special kind of relationship between a Corrupted and a living being. Some parasitic, others symbiotic and surprisingly, it could even be seen as an unlikely friendship. Of course, not all Bonds resulted in a Token.

One could think of the naming scheme as a shortened version of a ‘Token of Friendship’.

In fact, the most well studied Bond was through A-V-T-121-01 “Vengeful Red-Hooded Assassin”.

Those Bonded with this Corrupted directly influenced its Distress and Emotional Levels. If its Bonded friends were injured, then it would immediately enter its ‘Active’ state and hunt down the perpetrators until none of them remained.

It had never failed in this regard either.

 

* * *

 

< “Guise ourselves in their manifested fantasy. Tremble and shake off the illusion, but the slipper is already worn by the wearer in their minds.” >

 

“It’s more active than usual this evening.” The man standing beside the Mad Slippers was none other than the head of the Cult of the Mad Slippers.

His deep tone was amplified by the shape of the chamber.

It matched the frequency of the Corrupted’s disembodied voice as if he was the source of it all. But in truth, he was no more than a nameless puppet tugged by the strings of a Corrupted object.

There were two reasons why Corrupted objects were so dangerous.

The first was that they were notoriously difficult to detect since they’d first have to present as an anomaly. And even so it was easy to mistake their power as either magic or originating from another source.

The second was that their ego could be imparted onto a person. Corrupted objects were known to kill, piggyback, absorb or even replace the ego of a person. This depended on a variety of factors, with two being the intention of the Corrupted and the willpower of a person.

In ImpulseWorks’ terminology, this heavily depended on a Worker’s Attribute Score. The higher it was the more tempered they were so to speak, allowing them to wield Corrupted objects without being affected.

Although, once again, it depended on the Corrupted.

If it so wished to kill its wielder then there was no stopping it unless one had the appropriate stats or countermeasures.

 

< “Let the lukewarm slipper go on and declare who you are.” >

 

“Line up appropriately. Heed the call. Give yourself to the compulsion. Can you hear its sweet whispers? How much it desires you as much as you desire it?”

What were once wary eyes became filled with desperation. Chained hands of the Demi-humans rattled as humans reached out towards the dazzling slippers like they were possessed. A line of red-robed cultists kept them from drawing too close. After all, only one person could interact with the Mad Slippers at any given time.

The man wore an expression between a grimace and a grin. He was clearly not brainwashed like the rest of them, as he was able to speak and move freely on his own accord. The red carpets squelched with each step the volunteers made, oozing blood from the many victims beforehand.

“Is it not fate that you were brought here by the echoes of its call? Is it not destiny that you stand here before a Corrupted that has graced us with its power than condemn us like the rest!?”

“I need it… I must have it!”

“It fits me. I know it does. It’s calling out my name!”

“I’ll wear you. I’ll wear you. So please let me put it on!”

“Change me! Transform me!”

He had a background in the 6th Order as a preacher, as a result he was an expert at swaying the hearts of the masses. If the Mad Slippers hadn’t already tapped into their mind, then his words certainly would push them to the point of no return.

Being one of the few surviving members of Puritas’ reign of all things came with advantages. The first was connection and power even amongst criminal creeds. The second came in the form of information regarding the safes and unearthed treasures of the various Orders.

The latter – information – was most especially pleasing to someone else but not for the same reason as the lowlife vagrants who only cared to fill their sacks.

No one noticed it yet, but a figure lurked just outside the entrance. The cultist guards within the long corridor had disappeared without a trace unbeknownst to them. A malevolent, cold breeze swept through the palace despite all windows and doors being sealed.

They were in the part of the pale palace that was still mostly untouched. If one ventured deeper than they’d be met with an array of collapsed passages.

A pair of golden eyes just beyond the doors pondered on what to do next.

 

* * *

 

Frost wanted to hear more of its inner thoughts, as well as to find a way to deal with the cultists.

She had already learned much from this encounter alone and she did not want to make the same mistake of killing it too early, like what she did with the Lull-A-Goodbye.

Standing beside her, just behind wall was Deiman who similarly listened to the voice of the Corrupted.

 

< “Wrathful endeavors. Plights of name. Stigma of uniforms. Bear the wrath of those who came before, whose names are attached to the tales unbelonging to us.” >

 

//////// < WARNING > ////////

 

< MONSOON >

< THE ARBITER’S TRUMPET INSPIRES >

 

 

< CONDITION: Unfair Tale desires to be worn to bring out the unending hatred of those it predefines >

 

< SUBJUGATION REQUIREMENT: Unfair Tale is defeated when HP reaches 0 >

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