252. An Approaching End

The finite scale of the tower could only mean one thing.

The end was upon them. It was all within reach now. The Masterpiece took a considerable blow from Frost’s attack as she clutched onto it, skewering its many hands with her Touch of Golds to keep herself in place. 25 wrapped it like a yarn of barbed wire, and the other half burrowed into the thick walls of the Central Apiary, like maggots into the skin of a rotting apple.

It managed to bring its speed down by half as the spire was peeled and gouged, its fibrous innards spilling as personnel within burst from its many wounds. Frankenstein-like abominations of insects parts crawled out, taking the form of multiple beings melded into one.

She fondly remembered Carpalis’ depiction of the reconstructed elephant statue. How each piece that made it an ‘elephant’ was rearranged in a manner that made it nothing more than an affront to life.

Terminated Remnant
< Untethered >
LEVEL : X      ORIGIN : (A mash of many races)

The stats varied wildly, but they were for certain stronger than the Their Bodies. Their sizes ranged from tiny to as large as multiple grown men sewn together. And following them were putrid, puss-filled wolves, with festering masses and additional limbs hanging from them. They were like giant meatballs with legs and teeth, with no eyes as they scratched at whatever sound was made.

Scarlet Abomination
< Untethered Beast >
LEVEL : 120     ORIGIN : Animalia     HP : 6,000     ATT : 500     MAG ATT : 0
ATT DEF : 1,000     MAG DEF : 500     MP : 200     RESIST : 500     AGI : 36

The condensed cries and howls of countless emerged from the many conjoined mouths along each of these beings as they thrashed at everything that stood in their path, giving chase as they latched onto the fibrous walls of the spire.

Their screeches were indecipherable. But Frost understood one thing as she glanced back, watching the others take care of them.

They were the result of being untethered from the replication technology. However, what confused her was how they managed to conjoin, let alone be kept in such a state if untethering them meant permanent death.

All biological functions ceased to exist. They lived on a timer. Those that failed to keep up died shortly after, plummeting without resistance. In those moments she saw sorrow in their many attached faces, the wrath swallowed away, waiting to remerge when they replicated.

She never dug deep enough to understand. But she was certain that they were not truly untethered, unless there was a way to keep them alive for more than several minutes.

Whatever the case was, her answers laid deep beneath them as she battered the Masterpiece, which clambered along the walls in a spider-like sprint.

“Vacated. Are you seeing what’s inside!? Jury! Take a good look at what an Atelier shouldn’t look like! It’s like the inside of a rotting apricot!” Cer exclaimed, commenting on the innards of the Spire which were unremarkably filled with honeycomb-shaped rooms, each oozing with gelatinous blood; thick in the consistency of honey.

“Don’t coach her when we don’t know a sliver of whatever’s going on!” Res exclaimed.

The others continued to latch onto the False Heart, which was dragged alongside them. From a distance, the colossal heart was no more than a speck of dust compared to the monolithic spire.

Words alone could not describe it. As Frost chewed into the meat of the beast, clutching onto it like a tick as electrical magic bombarded it, she noticed that the curvature of the structure appeared flat.

That was how large it was.

Suddenly, the beast took a plunge into the spire, bringing them deep into its confines as they crashed though countless brittle walls. It bled and cracked like brittle bark. Each chamber, which was no larger than a small prison cell contained a bed and personal belongings; evidence that these things were ‘rooms’.

“… These honeycombs. When you look at them from here, don’t they look just like the rooms of regular Insectid!? From Gnawer!? And they put regular people in there!?” Cer pointed almost immediately as they barreled straight towards the hollow center. “S-Shit! HOLD ON!”

The beast fell a hundred meters beneath, clawing at the walls before it resumed its climb towards the summit. The False Heart smashed against the walls like a wrecking ball as the Scarlet Logic Abominations and Terminated Remnants threw themselves into the vast chute they found themselves in.

“It’s home for Insectids. But a prison for us! Marduk isn’t an Insectid at all! So why is it all… so close to it!?” Ber proclaimed.

“You think he maybe mutated into one carrying around that tech!?” Cer shouted.

“Mutated…” Res sorrowfully uttered, despaired by the sight of people unwillingly having their bodies molded haphazardly like clay.

“I’d be more shocked if he wasn’t an Insectid!” Res suddenly shouted. “Jury! When – WHEN YOU MAKE YOUR ATELIER, DON’T YOU DARE TREAT PEOPLE LIKE THEY’RE MATERIALS! DO YOU HEAR ME!?”

“I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if it came to that. And I don’t want to disappoint Frost! I hate that this exists! I hate that my Black Forest wasn’t the only one! Misery plagues everything!” Jury prepared herself to use Retrocausality, but only held off since they were already close to defeating it.

But if there was another Act, then she’d use it immediately.

To Reach a Star | HP: 4,230,500

“Joining the Librarians was when I drank the metaphorical poison. I was declared dead that day, my death blamed on my sorrowful sister who could do no harm. Her healing touch could no longer bring life to pages that now defined me.”

Strangely enough, it was only the Bride who spoke, as if this Act belonged to her. They climbed, fighting with unmatched fervor as Frost’s flames set the spire alight. Underneath them throbbed an indescribable existence, one that seemingly beaconed them to come. But no one could afford to separate from one another. They did not want to risk another Corruption event, or to be caught off guard and alone.

The Masterpiece filled Frost’s mind as Calfasio spoke again.

< “A flame brims within all of us. I cannot understand what you are fighting. But understand the heat that bursts from the wick that seeks strength.” >

Ignis stopped fighting whenever he spoke, patiently listening with swollen eyes, like she was listening to the old tape recordings of a long lost family member.

< “I too was set alight for the strength I never had. This common flame dwells, waiting for a chance to set one’s wick on fire.” >

Calfasio, now essentially a sapient Corrupted, spoke differently from how Frost remembered. It hurt Ignis more than anyone could begin to realize, but within she could still sense her father’s manner of speech. Jury wrapped her with her tail motherly.

< “Do you believe people are like wicks? Waiting to be set alight?” >

This question managed to reach Frost somehow. Because she understood what he truly meant by the wick and the flames. She swallowed a mouthful of flames deeply, as if to quell her rage just enough to respond between bites of harrowing flesh.

But it was not her who spoke.

It was Ignis.

“… People can become Corrupted at any time. But we shouldn’t call that… we can’t call it being set alight! Because it’s worse than that! It’s being consumed and having no way out! It’s like… It’s like…” Ignis was troubled by her father’s analogy, and Ber rightfully snapped.

“LIKE BEING STUCK INSIDE OF A SHELL! A prison with no way to scream or shout! Granted you don’t know you’re suffering until you make it out, but it’s after when you realize that it’s no different to being a slave to your own emotions!”

Her emotions heightened into the Third State, allowing her to manifest [Transpired Instincts] on top of the already manifested [I Wanna Be a Swan], and [Futile Galvanism]; which caused her singed apparel to be replaced with a beautiful, black dress made from feathers.

“It’s a parody of what we are! A fragment of who we really are curdling until it eats everything and becomes us! A flame… will just leave nothing behind. And I’d rather a flame took me than become a Corrupted again! People… if people really were wicks, then I would’ve been set alight RIGHT FROM THE VERY START!”

Ber, against the odds of Frost’s flame, climbed the umbilical cord that connected Frost with the False Heart, and latched onto the Masterpiece with flawless movement. She took the fight into her hands and began to shred the scattering entity like a parasite burrowing for blood.

It was utter carnage.

The climb never ceased to end, the light at the very top appearing like a star.

Frost was enraptured by it as she carved hand after hand from the beast. Her wrathful prowess was accompanied by silence. Normally she’d shout. Scream. Thrash but she had already done those.

And nothing had changed.