None could readily believe the unreasonable claims that left her lips. The Head of the Nexus? The Amalgam? Archetype? None of the terms meant anything to the healers. All it did was draw unneeded scrutiny to her character.

Though they didn’t say a word, their suspicions were obvious.

However, Frost could see the vibrant, pale colors in their hearts swirl with a slight cloud of blue. Her Leader of Hearts ability allowed her to know what strings to tug in their hearts. This combined with superior The Ultimate Language enabled that blue cloud to intensify by merely standing there.

The latter Ability was essentially a combination of all abilities from the Civilization Corrupted, allowing her to know what motivated them; what their values were; how she would connect their hearts; create inseparable bonds; and most importantly, how to make them the most civilized.

There were no audible, visual, or normal sensory cues. It was an indescribably instinctual drive. Her presence alone was enough to manifest the power. Her words were another method, as was her touch.

And needless to say, Frost could evoke the exact opposite reaction if she willed it. Their RESIST stats were low, therefore allowing her to subconsciously impose her abilities upon them.

 

 

So, when they pressed her for proof, Frost uttered their stats number for number.

“Fractured Doves. Levels range between 5 to 50. I’m curious about your offensive stats. They are hidden with question marks. I assume the Blessing of the Nexus is shocked that a healer has an ATT stat more than 0. Then again, my stats are perfectly fine.”

Frost additionally recited, watching the faces of the healers contort confusedly as they assessed their stats, shocked that she was able to see this.

“No known Atelier either. Inflow Direct has already let you go. Judging from the question marks, you may have also gained a new Skill or Profession.”

“… how… do you know that?” A healer just to the side of her wondered, looking back and forth between Frost and her invisible prompt.

“Who snitched?” Another sighed, folding her arms with displeasure. “As if losing our magic wasn’t bad enough, the title’s now different.”

“You’re talking too much.”

“Relax a bit. This Head healer is like us, so what’s the problem with telling her? Do you want to get exiled like the Wandering Healers?”

“None of us do. But if they know about ‘that’, then it’ll be worse!”

“Shut up already. She’s a healer just like us. Let’s hear her out. Besides… does it look like we have a choice?” Silence strangled them in an instant as they considered that last phrase. Dejected expressions filled their faces as they turned to one another for help, only to find that they were all stuck in the same place, unable to find a way out.

Their sky-blue eyes eventually fell onto Frost. She felt like a mother duck surrounded by a sea of ducklings. Funnily enough, she was the tallest one present. She briefly wondered if all healers were supposed to be short, or if losing their healing privileges had shrunken them.

Then again, she hadn’t seen a tall healer aside from the Perched.

“… we never could think for ourselves anyway. Feels nice to think out loud for once. Now we’re being sent from one organization to another. What makes you so different from Inflow Direct?”

“Yeah. Not one of us thought they were bad like how you’re describing them to be! We know how much they helped us… tch.”

“But was it only because we were healers…?”

They were confused, and their beliefs of their trusted Atelier conflicted with how other Ateliers treated their own. But most of all, they were scared of being cast away. Frost cleared her throat to bring them back to their senses as she approached the nearest healer, reaching out with a single hand.

The healer winced, and Frost’s hand froze until the girl eventually allowed her to touch her head with tender eyes. Frost did not wear any gloves. Her gentle touch caused the healer to stiffen as if she was about to be struck, but soon melted as the irresistible warmth of the Touch of the Black Dove washed her fears away.

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to antagonize Inflow Direct. It’s clear how much effort has gone into the care for us healers. They have no plans to cast you away.” Frost assured with a motherly tone. “All that is changing is that you will be protected personally by my absolute authority, and you will operate under the banner of the Head, and the Amalgam. You are not being severed from Inflow Direct. There are facilities here that are useful to us, and there are people who you have looked after you since you became a healer. I doubt they’d be willing to watch you fend for yourself.”

Gaining their trust was not as easy as it seemed. To them, she was just an outsider. A new figure seeking to exploit them. Her words may have left a positive impression on them, but these healers were not as naive as their pale-haired counterparts.

“Your value to them is not solely based on being a healer. Inflow Direct were vocal on wishing for a solution to keep you safe regardless of your powers. I have ordered for the transition of authority. That way, you won’t have to suffer anymore. What I offer you is a choice. Do you want to live retired from healing, away from the horrors in this world within the Nexus; or, do you want to join me as the Black Wings?”

What changed their perception was the fact that they were given a choice. It was not an order or demand. She gave them the discretion they were once deprived of a healer. Their clouded minds to seek only to heal and do what was ‘right’ had led them to countless bad choices, usually resulting in traumatic experiences, such as the loss of their magic.

The Amalgam added that relinquishing them of their duty did not necessarily mean they had to stay inside of the Nexus. They could go wherever they wished, and she promised to guarantee their security. And they could even revoke that if they wanted.

No one in their right mind would even entertain such an idea, but because she added this, they realized that this person truly did have their best interests in mind. Trusting her was still an issue, but this tiny gesture went a long way in a world where Ateliers meticulously controlled the lives of their personnel.

“What’s that supposed to be?” A healer suddenly asked, raising a hand. “Looking around, it doesn’t look like anyone wants to quit being a healer. So this is the only other choice we have. Black Wings is to differentiate us from the White Doves, huh?”

“Correct. But there is a deeper meaning behind it. I am the Black Dove. You will be my Black Wings. As you are aware, I’m not incapable of doing what must be done. As are you. But I don’t believe that healing is all that you want.”

“… damn right…” One hissed through clenched teeth. “Nothing makes us sicker than not being able to fend for ourselves.”

“I’m tired of seeing Adventurers rely on us for small cuts and bruises. They don’t thank us enough.”

“High-level scumbags will turn to us like we’re the problem when we can’t out heal twenty different damage sources. Even worse when someone dies because of that. We’re the ones that get blamed.”

“Ateliers like to stick our noses in places we’d rather never have heard of. Just because we’re healers doesn’t mean that what we see doesn’t affect us… If being with you means that we can let loose of this pent-up frustration, then give me a sword and let me poke them!”

“I wanna hurt those dirtballs too! Anyone that tries to mess with us should be hit where it hurts!”

“Better yet, it should be us that does it!”

“YEAH!”

They rallied together, throwing their tiny fists into the air to release their resentment. As cute as the scenery was, Frost saw them as a deadly force if they could follow through with their emotions. Better yet, if they were armed appropriately, then they would absolutely tear through whatever was thrown at them.

“Does being your wing mean we get to let loose!?” The one she patted exclaimed, staring eagerly at her with a glimmer of gold in the center of her eyes.

“That’s right. To become my wing means you not only regain your healing powers, but also gives you the privilege to fight under my absolute authority. No Atelier can say otherwise. As my Black Wings, they will instead beg for your aid.”

Frost silenced them as she spoke up, her voice amplifying like a megaphone as their eyes burned with an unstoppable flame.

“The Black Wings have two primary objectives. To heal in situations where regular healers cannot, and to eliminate threats in similar environments. Therefore, the Black Wings are combat-orientated healers. I’ve heard that many of you have struggled to cope with these situations. Unfortunately, this will be the reality of your environment, but you will be well looked after. You may decide to leave now. But know that we will have the means to help you mentally recover.

Time Reverberation will look after you as well. They are the official Atelier that regulates all Ateliers. You will be given cutting edge Atelier Items. You will be respected, feared, and acknowledged by all, for you are my Black Wings.”

Frost captivated them and she removed her hand from the head of the girl. Suddenly, a weapon fell from the sky and into her palms. It was a matte black, bulky weapon roughly a quarter of the size of the healers present.

But the weapon was incredibly light. The reason for this was because of Caldera Industries’ partnership that allowed for the manipulation of its weight. It was unrefined for the most part, and incredibly angular in shape with edges sharp enough to injure its wielder.

However –

“This is the base model of the Talon, called the Standard Talon. It’s a weapon that fires healing bullets, and Justica Arms’ crystal bullets. These are the other prototype models in thorough development by Time Reverberation.”

 

 

She handed the Standard Talon to the nearest healer. Her knees bent as she expected it to completely throw her off balance but to her surprise, the weapon was weightless. Justica Arms allowed for their weapons to be wielded by certain people and create conditions where the weapon could only be fired.

Such as the condition for the Justica Arm only being able to shoot those that were not innocent.

There condition applied here was that only healers were allowed to wield the weapon. Otherwise, the weapon would act as a fifty-ton paperweight. Luckily, those that did try to steal the weapon would have a healer right next to them to help them out.

The other models fell into Frost’s hands straight from her Dimensional Storage.

One was a staff-like weapon with a bulky end, capable of firing multiple bullets at once. It was essentially a shotgun plastered at the end of a stick. Its name was Close Talon, as it could be used in close quarters like one of Caldera Industries’ Gravity Hammers.

Another was based on what Galia called the Justica Short Arm; a handgun used as a backup. This was called the Small Talon. Next was a massive one that was easily larger than most healers, with a two-meter barrel. This was the Long Talon, named after the Justica Long Arm.

Finally, they had a smaller version of the Standard Talon called the Short Talon in case they preferred something more maneuverable. One by one, she gave the limited number of protypes out to the closest dozen healers, who wielded it dangerously as reminded them that those bullets never miss, so long as the target’s AGI was less than 120.

“… Are we replacing Scarlet Logic?”

“No. Scarlet Logic’s operations are flawed. I would never subject you to what they do to their own. Please. Try the weapons out.” Frost hummed, watching them stare at each other in confusion.

“Huh? O-On each other?”

“Guess one hundred is too much.” One joked as Frost suddenly folded her arms, patiently waiting for them to do something.

“… Hey… Don’t tell me…” Thankfully, one was fast to catch onto what Frost wanted, refusing to aim the weapon at her. “You want us to shoot you with this? It has a total of 3,600 damage! It can obliterate anything that isn’t a Moon with these stats!”

“Who do you think I am then?” Frost uttered, urging them to shoot. “Besides. We can’t go damaging the Ascelpien. How about this. To begin your initiation, you must shoot at me –!”

Before she could finish, a bullet slammed against her face, causing crystal particles to obscure her. She was soon bombarded by high-powered, crystal bullets as the low-pitched rumble of the weapons broke the air like the crack of lightning. These bullets did not teleport to their destination. Rather, they were propelled at a speed faster than the speed of sound.

A magical circle formed at the tip of the barrel, creating a giant, golden cylinder which was linked to another just two meters in front of it. The bullet temporarily teleported between the two before it was flung like a regular bullet.

Frost was spectacularly coated in crystal dust. Her body glistened in the light as the bullets were shrugged off like they were no more than droplets of rain, much to the shock of the healers. When the dust along her face subsided, they were surprised to see that she was entirely unscathed.

“No way…”

“After all that and she’s still standing. She’s not a Color at all…”

“You’re telling me… 1,800 ATT and it did nothing but blow a few feathers off? Shit… She’s in the territory of the Moons.”

“More than that if she could get Inflow Direct to hand us over to her. She might really be the Head of the Nexus!”

“No kidding…”

Few of her ruffled feathers glided down into the palms and on the noses of a few healers like a fallen petal.

“Now then, pass it onto the next healer. We have plenty of time before we can go over your induction.” Frost applauded with a happy smile unbefitting for someone that was just riddled with bullets. “Also! Is there someone named Abigail here?”

“Yes!?” The girl stood on her toes to stand over the sea of healers.

Then, Frost asked her a simple question.

“There is a person that wants to speak with you. I will escort you to them following the induction. I think you may already be well acquainted with them from H9.”

Her eyes immediately widened for she knew exactly who Frost was talking about.

“… Mimi… Cry…”

“What was that?” A healer whispered.

“Nothing… It’s nothing. Mhm. O-Of course! I’ll be happy to go!” Abigail exclaimed.