It began with Frost.

“I am the Archetype of Amalgamation, the sole authority of the Nexus, and the owner of the Floor of Amalgamation. My name to you is the Amalgam, or any approved namesakes, such as the Head. My name for the last grueling 4 months has been the Black Dove.”

Her introduction was concise. The mention of the ‘Black Dove’ raised several eyebrows and brought a small smile along the face of Enoch for she had heard of this name. It was strange in their eyes. What was the reason she needed to assume the identity of a Color?

She didn’t elaborate.

The time to explain would arrive later into the session. She decided to conduct herself according to the rules of the Council like them.

“My namesake as the Black Dove should be of no concern. But for those of you who have heard of my name: you are aware that I have walked along the world as a common folk. Observed the nature of this world as an Adventurer. Intervened on the misery caused by the Ateliers and the Impuritas as a Color – they who you call the Dungeons.”

Frost announced with a hallowed voice, her posture ever erected and imposing, despite her short stature. But their eyes did not fall upon her form, but instead, to the countless eyes that hovered above, observing intently like the juries of a court.

Slits could be found along the wings of the Arbiter, twitching like eyelids.

“Now, I’ve clawed my way up to reach the Nexus again at last. I am honored to be a part of this historic Council. I’m here to mend this broken ensemble. I sincerely hope we can see eye to eye. It’d be a shame if a similar event were to occur again.”

Frosts wove clues of her knowledge into her words.

She was well aware of the circumstances of the Beholders and their cold wars, but not to any significant extent. What mattered was that she understood the outline of their situation.

“I too will be conducting myself according to the rules of this Council. I will confess my truths, the nature of the Corrupted and the Hearts of the Impuritas. I hope you will be as honest as myself. However, I believe much of what I have discovered is already known only by a select few. I despise this.”

Finally, she looked up to the Stars and Moons, blessing them with a benevolent smile.

“I believe the Moons, Stars and the elevated Exalted deserve to know. Do not think of them as any less than yourselves.”

Hearing an advocation from the Amalgam deeply surprised those above, notably the Moons whose eyes glistened unexpectedly. Her words were like a ray of sunshine after a storm. It was only a small glimmer. A single crack in the clouds. But it was significant enough to warrant their absolute infatuation with the Amalgam.

The Star Child walked into the spotlight again, drawing a collection of dots spiraling around a central core as the Arbiter introduced her.

“This is the Star Child. The Archetype of Desire. Owner of the Floor of Desire, and the Advent of Desire – the Piece of the Fallen Star.”

The Star Child didn’t respond. Instead, she cast her fingers left and right with long, loose strokes before she presented the glowing drawing to Frost.

Frost smiled warmly, and placed a hand atop the head of the adorable girl before she took cover behind her back this time.

The drawing of the galaxy resembled the Council. Frost represented the galactic core, orbited by hundreds of celestial bodies. The picture exploded into fragments of dazzling light.

Her image before the Moons and Stars slowly began to change.

Then, the Arbiter covertly tapped the back of the Archivist.

“The Archivist. The Archetype of Civilization. Owner of the Floor of Civilization, and the absolute authority of my Advent. This is the first time we’re meeting outside of it. My Advent will remain undisclosed. I expect all members to agree on its confidentiality.” She confidently announced, glancing over at Frost who gave her an encouraging look.

Her heart bubbled warmly.

“Ahem. But I can reveal that it is the true Second Advent. The Nexus has always been the first. As the Archivist, I have a duty to document the truth and to ensure the continuity of history is not obfuscated by lies. I don’t expect the world to adapt to it, but I at least think that- t-that –”

Anna quickly lost steam, her nerves catching right up to her. But when it seemed like she would falter, her mantle radiated a nostalgic warmth, and the blue light in her eyes returned by tenfold.

“Sorry. Ahem. I believe that we should all understand the circumstances surrounding our world. Especially us allowed in the Council. Moons are as dedicated to the Nexus as the Ateliers.” Her voice carried unexpected edge. “No Moon has ever turned its back to the Nexus. That’s why, they deserve to be involved in all affairs relating to the Nexus.”

The Archivist threw in an argument during her introduction. She essentially swung first, and Frost was taken aback. It was refreshing to see the once timid girl solidifying her position as a supreme power in the face of the Beholders, and Frost couldn’t be prouder.

Her words resonated with Frost.

Because Anna was right.

When did a Moon ever betray the Nexus?

If anything, the Moons were the only ones that worked the hardest, likely for reasons they didn’t even know thanks to the poison of Serum G. She knew how hard the triplets trudged through red tape and the pressure of the Ateliers, and even their own peers.

Hearing another Archetype speak on their behalf caused the cracks in their cloudy skies to part further. Maybe, they could offer these Moons a better reason to fight, than it just being their duty. Frost kept the thought in the back of her mind as the Archivist finally concluded, quill in hand:

“I will be scribing the entirety of the Council in my book. We will be held accountable to every spoken word. No lies will be written by my pen.”

If it weren’t for the Council, Frost would’ve hugged her. Her display took a major toll on Anna’s mind. The Arbiter wrapped a second tail around her legs to offer support, allowing her to sit for the remainder of the session.

“How beautiful. I’m almost ashamed that I must speak after such a magnificent speech!” Magus exclaimed, clapping silently for Anna before he straightened his tie. “Very well. It is I! Magus, the Magician! Please do refer to me as Magus. It rolls quite well off the tongue. I am none other than the Archetype of Hope! Owner of the Floor of Hope, and whatever mysterious Advent exists out there.”

He expressed himself with brilliant gusto.

“I’m here to give a hand to my trusted – most humorous – friend, Carpalis and her infallible circle. Unlike my Archetype friends, I don’t have much to offer than a laugh and a smile; maybe even a song or two. But know this, friends –!”

He hummed, his head transforming into a Tarot Card depicting the sun as he thrust his arms out to the side.

“– Wherever I am, dark clouds will most certainly part!”