The Sect of Gears. Like Act X, Frost assumed they had some sort of connection with the Fate Mechanism. The string with no tangible origin all the proof she needed.

Frost’s sealed eyes opened and greeted this monstrosity with scorn.

The Sect of Gears and Act X.

The Crimson Hunger and the Scarlet Logic.

The Blood Festival and the Golden Index.

The similarities could no longer be ignored as Frost instantly scrutinized this being, causing them to shudder as she assessed the flame in its heart.

But there was no such flame to her shock. It was like a husk. A puppet, save that it was not the strings that dictated it like a marionette, but was rather operated by the subtle movements of its gears.

“Civilized? You? The Impuritas?” Frost did not match the civilized tone of this being. “You send murderous creatures to flood Brandar!” She motioned towards the aorta-looking structure and roared: “And you expect us to see eye to eye!?”

It was an enemy through and through, and without even saying another word, crackles of electricity radiated from her fellow companions. They were primed to kill it on sight.

Such a weak monster was but a grain of sand before them. It knew this, and instead, outstretched its arms like the wingspans of a bird as if surrendering.

“Your point is valid. The Sect resonates with your concerns. We do have a distaste of how these greedy animals disregard the precious life of potential followers.” The Attuned Messenger spoke cathartically, as if speaking from the soul.

A heavily religious aura encased it like armor, and it used it to deflect Frost’s question. It interpreted her words differently and spoke spitefully of the Blood Festival. Her feathers powerfully rustled, but she could no longer depend on it after the incident with the Bloody Herring.

Her gut was now her primary lie detector.

“Bullshit.” Ber spat, instantly taking center stage in this silent Showground. The light somehow focused a spotlight onto her, like this was some sort of play for the viewing pleasure of an omnipresent being. “The City of Strings is rife with you monsters. Froooost! Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shatter its faceless skull!?”

A radiant, blue light bled from her gauntlets as the Attuned Messenger dragged a finger along its chest, tracing over the gears within. Frost’s foresight did not detect an attack, but neither was she or the Moons about to let an Impuritas get the jump on them, even if it was merely motioning a finger.

An electric beam ripped the right upper portion of its body off the very moment its finger twirled. The creature did not shout or scream. It staggered backwards as the beam cleaved through one of the baroque-esque structures.

The faceless man did not bleed blood. Tiny red gears spilled in its place.

 

Attuned Messenger | HP: 3,000 | 4,500

 

The screams of the innocent melded with the laughter of the Organized monsters. The music sharply shifted, distorting as the still-standing Messenger recited:

“Uncouth Moons. When your parasitic rock devours the minds of people; and when the technologies of your rulers deprave people of their voice – they lose their purpose. We, the Sect of Gears, fill this cavity. Far better than your precious Anid doll –”

“BULLSHIT! Beholder Marionette is nothing like you monster!” Ber roared.

She swiped at the creature as the music began to crackle. Its legs were shredded, bursting it into metallic mist before they caught alight. A nearby carousel was quickly set ablaze by a flying leg.

 

Attuned Messenger | HP: 300

 

The creature never fell, however. It idly hung from a single thread as Frost slowly approached it, staring into where its eyes would be. She grabbed its limbless body, pulling it just low enough for the string to hover right in front of her face.

Frost was curious. This creature was on the verge of death, and yet it could not care less. It was purely driven by purpose, like a machine. Nav quickly mentioned something upon touching it.

 

< Attuned Messenger cannot be valued or bought >

 

She realized that directly touching the Impuritas was the trigger for the Language of Greed to take effect. But for some reason it didn’t work the same with regular people.

That being said: if the Sect of gears were dictated solely by the Fate Mechanism, whatever it truly was, then it made perfect sense as to why they’d be immune to this.

“Do you think you’re any different? You must have a Heart too. You know the tragedy they cause. You, the Ateliers… neither of you are going to sway me. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” Frost growled deeply, bringing the string close to her mouth.

“Color. Do you know the extent of the tragedy caused by the Ateliers? Bird to bird – Seeker of self-realization; we would not exist if it were not for the Ateliers. What bubbles and boils above seeps down underneath.”

It echoed a similar phrase spoken by the Bloody Herring.

“I ask you to reconsider your stance. Fallen Moons. Do you wish to rise again? Color. Do you wish to fly?” It asked its final words before Frost severed the cord with a single bite.

She had heard enough. It perished immediately, like a machine which had its plug removed. She devoured the carcass, almost inhaling it with each bite as the music suddenly came to a screeching halt.

… why the fuck were my feathers rustling? Nav. Just what is the Nexus supposed to be?

“The celestial heavens. One that is used to protect Elysia from the Corrupted. The Impuritas appear to wish to destroy it.”

There is no way in hell a world where the Impuritas reign free will be any better than what it already is!

She did not receive an ability. Only its stats. The brickwork continued to tremble and split like a thousand independent mouths. Ber rapidly struck the ground preemptively as Res fired countless beams alongside her.

“Underground! Can you feel it!?” Res relayed.

“Hit them hard! W-woah! Stop moving so much!” Ber roared.

Frost’s foresight picked up an emergence of multiple Attuned Messengers. She rushed to one of them and, with a striking kick, obliterated the faceless head as it emerged. It perished before it could even leave and slipped back into the living ground where it was crushed by hidden teeth.

 

 

It was a play on a children’s game called the Floor is Lava. Understanding this, she instantly shared this information and pointed to the nearby structures.

“GET OFF THE FLOOR! IT’S TRYING TO SWALLOW YOU!” She cried as they inadvertently split up, watching as dozens of the Attuned Messengers emerged, stalking them like ghosts which hung from an ethereal string.

“Should’ve started fighting the moment we entered! WALKING IN LIKE WE WEREN’T INSIDE OF ENEMY TERRIROTY!” Ber exclaimed, grappling onto one of the Messengers as she dragged it across the brick roof she traversed.

“Regroup at the heart if possible! Agh! Do not fall into the floor!” Res yelled, sharing a similar sentiment to Ber.

Frost’s approach into this place was flawed. No matter how civilized the Impuritas appeared; the outcome would not change. Therefore, she had only delayed the inevitable.

She clambered atop a tall, double storied structure as the music made its resurgence.

“ANOTHER BIRD IN OUR CAAAAAGE!” One defining voice sung amid a harmonious choir of anguish. “ASTOUNDING CATCH MY FISHY FRIEND! IT MAY NOT BE THE PIECE OF THE FALLEN STAR, BUT IT IS YET ANOTHER BRILLIANT HEALER! A PRIZED INSTRUMENT!”

 

< CONDITION: Enemies cannot be swayed while the Symphony plays. The Maestros of Flesh are immune as long as their instruments are playing >

 

“Another Impuritas group!? Was this a trap all along!?” Frost shouted, grasping onto one of the following Messengers before severing its cord with her teeth.

“The gears foretold of three Moons falling like meteors.” Another took its place, reciting these words before Frost pulverized its head with her forearm.

“The Librarians captured a piece of one of the Moons.” And another, which she dragged by its chest and slammed into a nearby Messenger.

Both crashed into a golden wall, causing it to bleed rivers of blood as the disfigured animals and people huddled on the other side.

None were killed, but many were injured. As their blood spilled; the laughing Organized creatures plunged their hands into the injured victims, snatching their organs for their own. She saw this with foresight, and, with unparalleled speed, wiped them out with utter ease before they could hurt them.

“AREA HEAL! Just – stay away from the floor! KEEP HIDDEN! NAV! TELL THE OTHERS I’M HEADING STRAIGHT FOR THE HEART! GET IGNIS AND JURY READY TO FIGHT!” Frost instantly reached the First State, stunning the expressionless Messengers as her hair grew out like beautiful ribbons.

She splashed blood from an open wound beneath, forming an Unlying Tablet etched with healing magic. At the same time, she craved a massive portion of her forearm with a fingernail, shouting as she obliterated the nearby Messengers with a powerful cleave and leapt onto a nearby building.

The spilled blood created a trail of healing Unlying Tablets, following her as she rapidly approached the castle with relentless speed, hopping from roof to roof.

“But they are no piece of a star.” One ominously hummed, appearing in front of her to obstruct her passage.

Unfortunately for that Messenger, Frost had other plans.

[Dismissed Confession]

Dismissed Confession was an interesting ability. It did not scale with her MAG ATT and had a set damage of 2,000. What this meant was that she was able to inflict 50 stacks of Confession onto this Messenger without killing it outright.

This was the very first entity she found worthy of using this Corrupted Skill on. However –

“Not enough! If you wish for it too speak then it must manifest into a condition!”

– The Confession stacks only caused it to blabber its mouth even further.

“Neither are you the bird you parade yourself as. You… you are different.”

And so, she violently dragged it along with her as she landed on the wall of what appeared to be a dangerous rock-climbing attraction.

Knives and various blades shot out from the wall, attempting to impale her but these things were no match for her insane DEF.

They merely shattered upon impact.

Frost ploughed the Messenger along the broken blades as she healed it to full HP and struck it with Dismissed Confession. If it was any other creature they’d be wailing in surrender.

The cycle repeated until they reached the top where another dozen awaited.

 

< 150 stacks of Confession! It’s turned into Sole Confessor! >

< It will only answer one question! >

 

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU AFTER!?” Frost asked, breaking through the dozen with a long, uncalculated jump. There were no obstacles or rooftops in sight. She was headed straight for the ground.

At the same time, explosive sparks terrorized the Complex elsewhere. Ber and Res were in a battle of their own. She spotted an unfamiliar entity leading Ber towards a separate section, which was walled off by frilly curtains.

That entity looked like a humanoid monkey.

As they plummeted tens of meters below, the entity in her hand contorted and answered sincerely:

“Granted wishes…”

Suddenly, she twisted herself midair. A golden stake skwered the Messenger in hand before it could even finish speaking. She had narrowly avoided it thanks to her AGI.

The following Messengers were killed in a similar manner. It was as if a rapid-fire ballista was hidden deep underground. They were painfully slow. Far slower than what the Righteousness were capable of.

But it was no ballista.

“My dearest Colored friend! Have you reconsidered your approach!?” She knew that voice on a biological level.

Her blood instantly ignited as steam left her clenched teeth.

The voice that joyfully laughed underneath the slimy cracks was none other than the Bloody Herring.

“A shame that you despise the brightest star there is! Look at us! We have never been on the same page until now!”

Frost landed atop the gaping cracks with ease, crushing them as various spears attempted to skewer her. They were surprisingly capable of scratching her skin as she wove between them, throwing herself into the pit where these spears seemed to originate from.

And smiling within the center of the golden boquete was the Bloody Herring.

“Hmhmhmhm! Now then, can you say the same for your precious Ateliers!?”

There was no greater vitriol than Frost’s resurging wrath.

“JUST DIE ALREADY!”