“The Black Dove? Never heard of them.” A voice spoke from amongst the clopping of a hundred leather soles.

It bounced along the reflective surface of the Asclepien’s lobby. The black-stranded healers lined up before the elegantly dressed Perched to be cleared for entry.

“You’re lying. Everyone in the City of Clubs saw what happened in C4. The Corrupted Zone is still there.”

“Those giant towers? The ones that look like giant rectangles?”

“That’s the one. Word has it that they were kicking a Woe of the Fallen Star Corrupted around with lightning bolts!”

“Here we go. People are already exaggerating the story.”

“Nuh uh. I saw it from C5’s mountain Injector Site!”

“I just heard that they’re the newest Color around… Is that right, Miss Perched?”

Healers were brought into a private room one by one at a checkpoint embellished by statues of doves and giant, pale feathers that hung above the many cubicle-like rooms that barred the entry into the Ascelpien.

They were undressed within to confirm that they were indeed healers before being allowed deeper. Security was lax. Incredibly so.

Inflow Direct’s security worked retroactively. Liquidators were always present in one way or another, but their primary goal was never to serve as guards. They were well-rounded members that upheld the laws imposed by Inflow Direct, but they did have varying levels of expertise.

The walls, ceiling, and floors of the Asclepien’s lobby were trapped with false hatches. Each hid deadly contraptions equipped with a Serum or Infusion to be used as countermeasures.

Machinery, pitfalls, spike traps, acid showers – the Asclepien rarely allowed Liquidators to set foot within unless they were summoned by Inflow Direct’s leaders. Despite how dangerous this seemed to the healers themselves, one first needed to enter the vicinity of the Asclepien to begin with.

And as easy as that seemed, the truth couldn’t be any further. Breaching into one of the Nests or even a kilometer into the Asclepien would require effort greater than Scarlet Logic’s failure of an invasion.

There was a reason why there was so much dead space between Inflow Direct’s facilities. Their arsenal of close-range Infusions far surpassed their long-range capabilities, to the point where they did not allow themselves to install them anywhere beyond their immediate vicinity…

… less they wished to irreversibly reduce their Sectors to the likes of the City of Spades.

That, and because they feared that it may fall into the wrong hands, much like with Infusion S.

Finally, the Perched answered.

“I am not aware of it myself.” She hummed as she led a healer into one of the booths, their voices heard through the thin walls.

As a result, lobby bustled with the sounds of voices of the healers.

The booths were strangely spacious despite their size. Within was a metal desk fitted against one side where various steel tools laid atop a sterile piece of cloth. An opaque curtain was used to maintain their privacy, and most importantly, a healer’s dignity.

The Perched then continued:

“The Donors are usually the ones who conduct the meetings. The results are then passed over to us by the Mothers. But I did hear that this is quite important. Can you undress for me, please?”

“They’re letting a Color of all people into the Asclepien?” The healer within questioned, wrapping her apparel around an arm like a giant sleeve. “C-Cold!”

“I’m sorry. This just goes on your chest for a few seconds… Mhm. Your hair is also untampered. Ah! That’s right! They are a healer, so I’ve heard.”

An item reminiscent to a stethoscope was used to check the heartbeat of a healer, rather than their breathing. This was to determine whether their bodies were human. There were very subtle differences between each race, and the Perched were trained on this detection method.

It was not foolproof, but it was a baseline reading, nonetheless.

A small needle was also found on the flat end of the instrument, and it painfully pierced into the girl’s flesh. Liquid funneled through a tube connected to the head, pumping a small, trace amount of Serum O – Obscurity.

This was partially an anti-magical Serum that caused certain magic such as shapeshifting, invisibility, camouflage, etc to wane. Had the girl been using such magic then her true form would have briefly shown itself.

The reason why Serum O was partially anti-magical was because it didn’t prevent a person from using magic. It only disturbed it. A fireball affected by this for example would cause it to change in appearance, and behavior depending on the dosage.

The outcome, however, would be mostly unaffected.

Once cleared, the kind Perched, who could have very well been the mother of this healer, plucked a metal brush and began combing through her hair.

“A Color as a healer? So what was that lightning all about? You’re telling me a healer is capable of violence?” The very same healer responsible for telling off a Blue Moon slapped her elbows. “Can I put my robes on now?”

“You’ll be getting a new one. You can leave it on the floor if you want. Stand still for me please. There, there…” The Perched cooed motherly, causing the girl’s face to melt as she indulged in her comforting strokes. “Your hair isn’t dyed or magically tampered with. Now for the painful part… Please stick out your arm.”

“Needles… I hate syringes.” The healer stuck out her tongue. “Ugh…”

“Just for a moment. There. You didn’t feel a thing~”

“Urgh…” The healer complained.

She watched as the Perched squirted the blood onto a metal dish before she placed a red stone into it. The blood boiled immediately, confirming that she was not the fabled Mimicry. Any pieces of Mimicry found would have attempted to defend itself to harmful stimuli, usually resulting in the blood transforming into tentacles, or growing teeth, limbs, or an eye.

“Sorry. This procedure will no longer be a thing soon now that Mimicry’s been found. Identification checks shouldn’t be a problem too as I’ve heard as well.” The Perched patted the girl’s hair affectionately, her sky-blue eyes glistening like jewels. “Done~”

The mention of Mimicry caused the girl in question to seize up. Goosebumps formed across her body as the vivid memory of her encounter with the creature in H9 returned like the sun after a violent storm.

This girl was the same one that Mimicry had protected. She was supposed to be with the Golden Index for recovery, but she adamantly refused, wanting to stay at the front lines despite her inability to heal.

But in truth, she just wanted to feel like she was useful. Deeper than that was also an odd longing to see Mimicry again.

After all, she hadn’t thanked it for saving her from those traffickers…

“Thank you…” She meekly spoke. “Hey, if a healer can become a Color, then that healer is totally not normal. Oh. Do you want me to wear this?”

She was given a black robe instead of the usual light blue ones. It took her a moment to recognize that this was an article. The clothes were nothing special. In fact, it was inferior to her old one.

But she was assured that this was temporary.

“For identification until Act X can supply you with new uniform.” The woman allowed her to redress.

“Uniform? Everyone’s called them robes or clothes. Now it’s a uniform?”

“The Black Dove has requested it to be called as such. The color scheme at least from what I’ve heard.”

“Probably to mark us as useless because we can’t heal anymore. Not without the Serums.” After fitting herself with the robe, which was adjusted with a series of belts to attain the perfect fit, glanced at herself in a standing mirror with a pained expression. “… these feel a lot easier to move in at least. Kind of like what you find on Atelier people. It’s just us?”

“The Black Dove wishes to see you all specifically. She will eventually come to speak with us as well.”

“I don’t get it. Why does a Color have so much sway over things?” The girl asked, twirling the black strands of her hair.

“I often ask myself that when we look to the White Wing. The reason will be revealed when she greets you. She has accumulated fantastic tales of herself recently. It reminds me of when the Green Composer was still around. Great change is in the works. I believe the Black Dove has your best interest.”

“We’ll see about that. Thank you. I always wanted to be a Perched. Guess I’m whatever this is now.” The girl said, forcing a smile before she was embraced by the tall woman.

Her face was buried between her chest, and the sweet perfume of lavender immediately caused her to melt in her embrace. There was a tinge of fear. No. It was far more than just fear. The incident in H9 made the embrace uncomfortable, but because this was a healer, her fears died out in an instant.

It felt like she was in her mother’s embrace again.

“You’re a healer~ And before a healer, you are someone with a beautiful heart. Regardless of what people say about you because of your newfound capabilities, it does not change who you are. Deep down I like to believe that we are just incapable of doing what can now do.”

“… Thank you. Um…”

“Christina. You may call me by my name. Come see me if you feel like you need someone to talk to. I’m always available~ When you seek me, you will find me.”

“Mm. Thank you.

“You won’t tell me your name?”

“Urgh… it feels inappropriate. You’re a Perched.”

“Hm?” The woman did not see this as a problem. She was more confused by what the girl was trying to convey.

“… Alright. Fine. Abigail.”

“Very well, Abigail~”

 

* * *

 

The lobby itself was one continuous section that spanned the entire base of the Ascelpien, separated by glass walls and smooth pillars that held the entire structure together.

The immediate outer and central segments were the only walled sections and was where amenities existed for those that lived within the Asclepien, for the Mothers and Father were rarely, if at all allowed to leave the tower.

Of course, these amenities were run only by the Perched. It could therefore be seen as a home purely for the healers. Other than this, and the indoor gardens that would make outdoor botanical gardens blush – it was rather barren.

Every healer protected by Inflow Direct has visited the Asclepien at least once. The indoor garden was usually the only thing they remembered of the place. It served as an induction ground for every healer before they were sent to the Nests.

The Ascelpien was separated into multiple floors, each storing a vast quantity of a Serum. 26 of the Serum pipelines met in the center of the Ascelpien, and at its heights resided a treasury where vials of Infusions resided.

The second floor, however, was where the induction occurred. All new healers were set aside for now as an army of a hundred black-robed healers marched up a spiral staircase so wide that they could comfortably fit shoulder to shoulder.

There were less than 700 healers recorded by Inflow Direct. 100 were rendered useless. The healers in question sweated as they became anxious of their future. They were promised that things would be alright, but was that truly the case?

Many slowed their ascent as if to prolong their lives. Deep down they knew that they were safe, but they also knew what the other Ateliers did to their own when they lost their use. Assuring whispers filled the air, some holding hands whilst others marched along the marble steps steadfastly.

Soon, the lights of the second floor could be seen leaking through the gaps of the staircase. Before long, they were greeted by a wide lobby separated by many shoulder-sized walls, making it appear like a labyrinth.

There were no furnishings aside from select rooms which served as classrooms. Trays of Serums could be found unattended in every room. Tubes filled with a luminous liquid ran through the ceiling like veins, reflected by the pristinely polished floors.

The healers wandered about, wondering what to do as they were left to their own devices. But they never ventured off too far. They were like animals entering a new home for the first time, cautiously tapping at even the walls in case there was something awry.

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard arriving from the central staircase. It easily overtook the commotion of the floor, demanding their attention as all eyes fell to the center. A black-haired figure soon emerged, wearing a black coat made of dark feathers. A large collection of larger feathers was arranged around the neck and shoulder area of the coat like a lion’s mane. A highlight of golden feathers was fused within the mane, but their beauty paled in comparison to the golden eyes of the figure.

They did not even need to announce who they were. Their presence was immediately known as an impenetrable fog of superiority flooded every inch of the floor. But strangely enough, the figure’s smile was the same that a mother would show to their child.

“There’s a lot more of you than I thought.” She observed, a little humored by the finding as she positioned herself in the center. “You must be curious as to who I am. Before I get to that I assume that you are aware that I am the Black Dove, the Black Incandescent Color. And like you, I am a healer –”

She made her point by carving a wound across her forearm, which had become a staple display of her power. Black particles formed along her wound, closing it without a trace. Similarly, the blood disappeared when she planted a boot onto the tiny puddle as she cast [Cleanse].

Then, with a palm held to further demonstrate her abilities, she created a massive fireball. Its heat washed over them like a wave, blowing their hairs back gently as they were left in total disbelief. The flame was so hot that it partially damaged the floor directly beneath her, irreversible warping its reflection.

Even the uneducated fool would know how resilient the material used to create Atelier property was. It was a testament of this person’s power, and a statement that hinted that she was no ordinary Color.

“– And someone capable of violence. Again, just like yourselves. We are the same, wouldn’t you agree?” She said with a happy smile, while the healers could only stare with gaped mouths and dumbfounded expressions.

“I am here to bring you under my wing as the Black Wings, as opposed to the White Doves. Inflow Direct has proven itself to be inadequate in keeping you safe. Our meeting here will serve as an introductory course to the role you’ll be serving for the foreseeable future. Your safety is guaranteed under my wing.”

“H-How are we supposed to trust a Color to protect us if an Atelier couldn’t?” One was brave enough to question, resulting in many nods.

They eagerly waited for an answer.

But this answer was the last thing they could have ever expected.

“Sorry. I should have led with who I really am first. Ahem.” Frost cleared her throat, announcing her title to the audience of a hundred healers. “I am the Amalgam. The Archetype of Amalgamation. My title may not mean anything to you and that is fine. All you need to know is that my authority extends beyond the Ateliers.

It may come as a shock to you, but I am the Head of the Nexus.”