Heavy thumps followed each step they took aboard the train. The sound of glass and damp squelches were unavoidable with the sheer carnage that grotesquely painted the compartments crimson.

“Ahaha. Are you defiling the bodies in search for valuables?” L.S giggled as Frost rummaged through mounds of corpses.

“Don’t stand here and watch. Help me find it.” Frost ordered, ignoring her witty comment.

“Rather difficult when you hold me like a cheap escort from the City of Hearts!”

“So you can run away? Sorry, but you’re sticking close whether you like it or not.”

Suffice to say, Frost still couldn’t bring herself to trust L.S wholeheartedly. While they were stuck in the same predicament, it did not change that she was an Impuritas. And until she understood this woman better, she was not going to give her a single avenue to escape.

They investigated the train further for a certain Atelier item.

The Train’s Core, otherwise known as the heart of the train. Its mysterious power that granted the authority to manipulate gravity sparked immense interest in Frost.

It went without saying that she planned to devour it just like the Script. That way, she could gain its unique property, that being the manipulation of gravity itself. However, no matter how many bodies they sifted through they never came across the fist-sized singularity.

Only the blood-soaked belongings and weaponry of the fallen remained scattered here, along with the body parts of their owners. Frost did not miss a beat in appraising whatever she could here in hopes of finally advancing her Appraise Object skill to level 20, potentially allowing her to finally identify stubborn objects, like the coins and the feathers of the Innocent.

 

< It’s a key >

< A dress made from beautiful cloth, presumabley from foreign lands >

< A pendant with the picture of a loved one >

< Metal protruding from the train. Quite useless… >

< Unappraisable. I presume it was Jury’s tail? >

 

< You know Frost, this is another method to feed me information. Aside from your own descriptions >

 

“But it’s not like you can visualize it, huh?” Frost commented aloud, piquing the interest of L.S as they moved into another compartment, with the tall woman in question struggling to fit. “Use my eyes as a guide. You can see, right?”

“Vaguely! I can’t tell if they’re too bright or my heart woes like I’m in the presence of some all devouring being!” She laughed.

In the meantime, Frost placed Jury’s tail into her Dimensional Storage. As morbid as it was, Frost was unsure if her healing magic was capable of completely regrowing limbs. While she had grown a finger back, she wondered if it would be any different for major limbs.

If not, then maybe it was possible to reattach it to Jury somehow.

That being said, her magic did repair the broken legs of L.S in mere seconds with Corporeal Restoration. A testament of her mastery over her Profession.

“That reminds me miss healer Black Dove –”

“It’s Frost. Call me Frost.” She dragged the woman through.

They were now in the mid-section of the train, with around another 12 compartments left to scour through. Frost, as a health professional from Earth and partially here as a healer, kept herself thoroughly clean with Cleanse, although she did not have any issue with plunging her hands into the cavities of the deceased.

Bloodborne infections were destined to either be expelled with magic, or devoured by her blood either way.

“Hmhmhm. I like that name! So, miss Frost healer Black Dove! Do you happen to be one of the sufferers of psychosis?” The woman chuckled, genuinely curious considering Frost seemed to speak to an invisible entity.

Or in this woman’s eyes, to a figment of her imagination.

“This isn’t schizophrenia. If I’m not talking to you, then pretend I said nothing.” Frost said, sighing afterwards.

“Schizo-frendia. Oh. Like a dead, invisible friend? Schizo is their name, I see! Is it safe to presume you were a lackey of CogitO? Quite unprecedented for a healer! Well… hehe… I guess everything about you is unprecedented.”

“No way in hell am I affiliated with an Atelier. What’s CogitO have to do with this anyway?” Frost inquired, scanning every single nook and cranny of the compartment as they approached the mound of bodies on the other end.

“Their Cognition Suppressors have a rather distasteful side effect. Hmm? You don’t know? The censor bars that block out memetic threats? Ahaha. Or Corrupted far too warped for the mind to comprehend?” She explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world, leaving Frost grumbling as she plunged her free hand

“I’m aware of such a device. But you brought up the topic of psychosis. I take that’s the side effect of the Cognition Suppressor?” Frost clicked her tongue, finding nothing. “Help me move them from the doorway. And watch your head. It’s slightly narrower here.”

“So you do have a heart!”

“Can you please just answer me before I break those legs again?”

“W-with haste, of course!” She desperately stifled a laugh, knocking on her strangely hollow-sounding chest before answering. “It tends to censor the death of comrades as well, but those very people can still hear and feel the presence of their comrades.”

“Like a phantom, huh.”

“Yes! A phantom friend! The device masks their deaths and makes it appear as though they are still alive. The realization when the device is taken off usually leads to them developing an illness that makes them speak to those imaginary friends. Other times, their world completely collapses around them. Quite tragic and common with the weak!” She announced, giggling melancholically as Frost dragged her into the next room.

“So schizophrenia in a way… I’m guessing healers can’t do anything about it, huh. And can you really call those people weak?” Frost spoke with edge again. In a world where living nightmares existed, it pained her to hear these people be called ‘weak’.

“It’s true, no? Such a device is only fitting for the weak hearted! And as a healer yourself, you must know it is true. Healers cannot fix the mind. Only people themselves can.” L.S naturally had a different view to Frost as an inhabitant of this vile world, where strength mattered more than anything else.

And it was not like she could blame them when monsters roamed the nights in the millions beyond their walls… and a dungeon could at any moment spring forth and devour all they knew and loved.

Therefore, being weak can be seen as an entirely negative trait despite other virtues a person may possess. She was unfortunately reminded of Calfasio’s woes as a result.

“An illness of the mind is not one of flesh. Healers do not fix memories.”

And yet I’m here trying to fix the memories of the Archetypes. Probably my own along the way.

“You could say that makes you a ‘greater healer’.”

Very funny.

Frost softly smiled at Nav’s little joke, causing the woman to gracefully hum.

“Are you sure you’re not one of them?” She had to ask again.

“I can make you join this voice if you want.” Frost threatened, albeit less seriously than usual.

“M-My apologies!”

 

* * *

 

They cleared nearly every single compartment aboard, displacing over a hundred bodies in total. The object was nowhere to be seen, and Frost could only hope that it was somewhere in the front compartments.

Actually, in all likelihood, that may very well be the case considering it was where the Train Conductor resided…

… As well as the on-board healer.

“So. What’s the deal with you and that fish? You called him a traitor.”

“A traitor for biting the very same hand that offered him life anew within the golden walls of our City. Like all of us, we offered a piece of our soul to the most benevolent Carpalis. For happiness! We’re essentially hired arms. As for myself, I’ve paid more than half of my soul in homage. Ahaha.” L.S solemnly spoke, her voice becoming dreamy at the mention of Carpalis.

Then, it took a sudden, sharp turn.

“Betrayal is not impossible. It’s just… sad. We are not immune to external influences. By the way, have you heard of the tale of the Girl Far Away from Home?” She whispered pitifully, her voice near inaudible by the metal clanking of their footsteps.

“No. But I’m guessing it belongs to Carpalis.”

“That it does. It is a tale of despair. Of a Demon child traversing the lands across a sea to escape the endless wars of their continent, only to realize that the greater part of the world was just as vicious as her homeland. Do you know the quote?” She softly spoke, her voice draped with sorrow.

“What quote?”

Upon asking this, the woman’s smile grew by tenfold, as if in mockery of Frost.

“Then.” She hummed, tapping at the ceiling.

“Carpalis.” She then tapped at the green gemstone ring, waving a finger around almost childishly.

“Doesn’t trust you entirely. But she is too kind to quell her backstabbers. Like that Phalanx who cut herself along with Carpalis’ right hand!” The woman twisted a finger, nearly snapping it off in anger as she giggled. “I’m sorry. The counterfeit tickets are likely to blame for his betrayal. But his misguiding character may also share a good portion of that blame… Bloody Herring. That is truly a fitting name for a compulsive liar.”

There was a lot to digest from this. For starters, it seemed as though that Carpalis was much keener than she realized, likely due to the aforementioned betrayal prior. When further probed, L.S stated that he disappeared more than a decade ago from the Golden Index.

Well before they became aware of the counterfeit tickets in fact. These did not appear until immediately after the destruction of the Relay Sites and the Repositories. Similarly, the products of Caldera Industries were also compromised at around the same time, leading to more frequent spatial distortions and train malfunctions.

Frost had every right to blame the Impuritas for these events, including Iscario himself, although the question of how could not be answered in the slightest. She needed to get her hands on one of these things directly involved with Iscario’s ploy.

That being said –

They investigated the final compartment, finding nothing but more bodies and the tattered blue apparel of the Train Conductor, which was attached to a head that L.S seemed to recognize.

“T.C Gral… oh, dearest friend. A fate unfitting of someone with such kindness.” L.S fell to her knees and cradled the detached head of the man, his black hair soaked in blood. His final expression of worry was petrified like a cold statue.

He probably tried to protect these people in some way.

It was unfortunate that the rest of his body could not be found amongst the carnage.

Frost kept herself silent and allowed the woman to mourn. Her smile was perpetually plastered on, but she could sense an immense sadness emanating deep within L.S. Only a single tear fell from her sealed eyes, disappearing into the rivers of blood underneath.

“Such is the norm in our world. Friends perish faster then enemies. Carpalis can only laugh at such a reality. We, the rings of her golden hand, seek to quell it from its roots. Rest well, dearest friend.” She deeply lamented.

Then, she took the head with her, clutching it weakly with only a single hand. She struggled to maintain a grip, causing Frost’s heart to wrench.

And just for this instance, she freed the woman from her grasp. Frost, understanding this woman a little better, could not find it in her heart to continue her cruel prejudice.

“… there is indeed kindness in you too. Carpalis would be pleased to know that.” L.S whispered in thanks.

“I’d hope so. And I’m sorry… you won’t run, right?”

“Ahaha. There’s no point for me to do that, is there?” She chuckled, leaving Frost sighing immediately after.

“… Haaaaaaah. Alright then. Listen, we’ll be travelling together in these parts. Right until we reunite with everyone else and escape. I don’t trust you entirely, but I doubt you’d be able to scratch me in the first place.” Frost ordered, patting the woman’s arms to comfort her in these trying times. “… and as victims of betrayal – let’s try to work together. For our own sake.”

“I thought you’d never ask! But I’m not a combatant, you know! Hahaha! I’m an informant. A Captain of the Golden Thumb!” She proudly proclaimed as Frost turned her back and began sifting through the mound in hopes to find the Train’s Core…

And evidence of the onboard healer.

After moving the bodies aside, she pried the metal and wood with her bare hands, even biting at its soldered joints much to L.S’ shock. These metallic components were like congealed jelly to Frost’s monstrous maw.

“An informant to gauge those Adventurer’s right!?” Frost had to shout as the train screeched in response to her wicked strength.

“No. For you, miss Frost healer Black Dove! And potentially… the Amalgam, as you said?” She added the Amalgam just on the basis of witnessing Frost devour the very wood. No human would ever be capable of such an abnormal… feat, if one could call it that.

“IT’S FROST!” Metal sheets peeled like the skin of a fruit, revealing the mangled innards of the first most compartment that housed nothing but unknown tools and crushed seats.

When appraised, it revealed that they were components for the magical intercom, which was now beyond repair. And as luck would finally have it –

 

< Frost! Appraise Object I is now Appraise Object II! >

< Appraise to your heart’s content! >

 

She was ecstatic, and punched the air in celebration, piercing through the low ceiling of the frontmost compartment. Excitement infused with her blood like a drug as she planned to appraise every known object to man within her vicinity.

That was until an ever-familiar voice cried out them from somewhere outside.

“IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE!?”

This voice undoubtably belonged to Res.