It has been a couple of hours since Terra left, and I have retrieved the Ecology book from where I hid it. Terra showed me the tower defense thing for around an hour before she left, stating she would return the day after tomorrow with the signs.

Arriving at the Terrace, I take a seat upon the fountain’s edge and kick my hazy legs, gazing out over the lake, attempting to ease my exhausted mind, except I find myself instead shaking my head.

‘That tower defense picture game-thing was… disappointing. I do not think it was relevant at all, and I could not understand what was happening or what she was explaining. It was something about imaginary animals called dinosaurs that attacked towers for reasons that Terra could not explain. Then Terra tried to tell me dinosaurs were real once, but she cannot fool me with such obvious falsehoods.’

While thinking, I fiddle with a clear glass orb that is around the size of an apple and was left to me by Terra. I raise the orb, gazing at my reflection.

‘This object is supposed to teach me how to detect Mana as well as hide my own. Still, Terra said to make certain I am mentally rested before venturing to use it. That’s why I shall do something else first.’

I look to the night sky and set the book and orb to the side. This is the first night it has not snowed since I arrived at the Terrace, meaning it’s a great night for reading, except I have something else on my mind.

Raising my hands, I spread my fingers. ‘Sign language is what she called it and the most basic sign she showed me...’ I point toward The Lake. That is all. I just point.

‘But! She emphasized that it means… “you.” To add insult to injury, she said If I am speaking to someone from a position of authority in the future, someone who says “thou” or “thee” may not be taken as seriously… Who would I ever be speaking to from such a position? I can only speak to her! Perhaps it is not my pronouns which are the problem, but everyone else’s.’

Crossing my arms, I take out my frustration on Earl, ‘So Earl! What do YOU think!? How do YOU feel being addressed in such a way!?’ I make sure to shake my head with every use of that word. ‘I am certain thou must feel disrespected! I do not even know if I can trust her, yet, she says people will not be “courteous” to me if I call them “thou” with a serious face… I do not even have most of my face!’

Uncrossing my arms, I throw them up and allow them to drop to my sides. I glance up, taking a quick glimpse at the moon, and consider practicing the six or seven words of sign language the lap-top taught me; however, I cannot imagine it coming into use anytime soon.

My gaze drifts to the book. I drag it in front of me and then use a rock to keep the pages from turning. ‘I shall read to calm my nerves.’

Several hours have passed as I place the book to the side, tilting my head after having read a portion of it. Adopting the book’s own words, it basically spoke of organisms, the places they inhabit, and how they interact with one another. My reading has been slow due to odd words, sentences, and concepts.

Though, I made an exciting discovery when I stumbled upon a list of definitions at the back of the book. Admittedly, I feel many of these words are not commonly used as, for the most part, I have not heard anyone using them during my spying.

‘Frankly, some of the things in this book are hard to believe. Tiny animals? Oxygen Cycle? Carbon cycle? Tiny animals that can live in places that one would believe is impossible? Including inside people? It’s all fascinating, but…’ I start working through my thoughts. ‘Why would Earl have me read this? Is it related to my tower? My Domain? Me directly?’

Staring at the red brick below me, I resume my thoughts, ‘I suppose it will eventually come into use, so I should take it seriously. Besides, this kind of learning is what I enjoy.’

I shrug. ‘My Status, prithee, Cosmic System.’

Name: Constance Nightingale

Race: Kiln

Seed Type: Tower [Germination]

Variant: Oort Stained Glass

Forms: [Particulate] [Collapsed **Inaccessible**]

Shell Level: 1

Flame Level: 1 (Progress Past Germination)

Durability: 41/41

Mana: 197/220 [110/110 Max Shielding]

Erysichthon: 58/100

Inborn Effects: Corrupting Oort Cloud

Adaptations: [Cattail Tendrils] [Comrade Cracker] [Throng of Haze]

Skills: [Feline Whip (N-1)] [Gluttonous Naturalist (N-0)] [Humorism (I-4)] [Sneak (I-3)]

Titles: [Roanoke Lost] [Parasitic Thief +]

Chronicles

With the appearance of the blue wall, I check my Mana levels. ‘Ah, perfect. Earl, I would like to refine as much Nebula as I can in the same fashion as before.’

This time, the flame of the kiln lights up without the list of options. Glancing around to make sure there is not anyone here, I hide the Ecology book and grab the orb, placing it in some nearby bushes. Once the items are sorted, I move toward the rubbish bins in hopes of obtaining some delicious meat. As I gather the items, I take them to the bush. I wish to gather everything together to eat it all at once to test whether I gain Essence if I consume more food at once. Also, I want to have a variety of items to experiment with my “Gluttonous Naturalist.”

As the sun rises, I resolve to one more trip, but just as I am about to leave my bush, the crinkling of boots in snow alerts me. I drop, the kiln shakes the hedges as I do so. Pushing some leaves to the side, my eyes fall upon three men and a woman descending the grand staircase from the black road above. When they reach the bottom, they stop.

The man and woman nearest to me, I recognize. In fact, this is the third time now that I have seen these two noble’s guards named Leo and Jessica. The two men that follow them are people I have never seen before. One wears a tan suit and trousers while the other wears a black suit and trousers.

The man wears what looks to be a shrunken pocket watch around his wrist. He has blond hair, a goatee, and hair that is perfectly maintained as if every hair is strategically placed. Yet, the bag beneath his eyes betrays his true state. Sighing, he glances at the pocket watch he wears on his wrist and then pulls out what looks to be a notebook. Clicking his tongue, he opens it, removing what I can only assume is some type of writing utensil from his coat pocket.

Meanwhile, the man in the black suit’s hair is messy, and his eyes are half-closed as if he is tired. He yawns and reaches into his trouser pockets, pulling out a white box. Flipping the box open, he brings it to his mouth and then pulls away, revealing what I have come to know as a cigarette. He stares at The Lake with his sleepy eyes, watching the sunrise.

I notice that both the man in the black and the tan suit have some kind of card pinned to their pockets. The card has a picture of their faces and some sort of emblem. The emblem is difficult to see, but it seems to be some type of bird with a long neck, sharp talons, and feathers of black, red, and white.

‘...I think I recognize that bird. An orphan bird or an orphany, I believe. Orphan birds lay their eggs in the ocean. The ones that float get to fly in the sky with their mother, father, and god. As for the ones that sink, they hatch in the dark abyss of the ocean. The Church in Light loved to use it as an example of what happens to “bad eggs.” Yet, I have been higher in the sky than anyone, and I can attest it is dark up there as well.’

I shift my position to attempt a better look, causing the kiln to jostle a batch of leaves. The man in the black suit’s sleepy eyes glance in my direction, proving that he is much more alert than I had assumed.

Unable to dip any lower, I raise my hand to block the glow of my eyes.

‘This is bad. The kiln is in the middle of refining!’

With my free hand, as silently as possible, I gather a pile of leaves around the kiln to obscure its light. As the leaves enter the membrane, some haze escapes, but now is not the time for such worries.

My efforts create a bit more rustling, and the man in the black suit’s head turns. He puts his box of cigarettes away and removes a shiny metal object. Starting to walk toward my hedges, he clicks something on the shiny object; a flame rises from it lighting his cigarette. The tap of his shoes against the red brick echo in my mind as he puts the shiny object away. A puff of smoke exits the edge of his lips as he stops.

“Hey, Pierce,” the man says in a deep apathetic voice.

The well-groomed man in the tan suit, Pierce apparently, takes a deep breath. “Lincoln,” he replies.

With his eyes still half-closed, he removes the cigarette from his mouth. “Isn’t this around where that kid said he bought that horse?”

“Huh?” Pierce looks up from his notebook, glancing around. “Yeah, somewhere around here, I think. I didn’t do the follow up after the incident.”

“Thought so,” Lincoln says. His gaze sits on my little thickets for a time until he turns toward Jessica and Leo, walking back to them. “Anyway, is this around where you’ve been getting reports of odd smells and people feeling, what was it, light-headed?”

“Yep. We thought it was a leaking gas main or somethin’, but the utility company couldn’t find anything. The next thing we know, some guy shows up and pulls out a device. When it started beeping, he panicked and then told us everything was fine.”

Jessica laughs. “His eyes were the size of volleyballs, but he’s over here yelling, ‘don’t panic, it’s okay.’ I thought we were about to explode.”

“Mmm. The field guys can be that way,” Pierce says, slapping the notebook around in an effort to keep it firm and flat. “Those guys used to only detect something once every decade or so. They have a tendency to panic every time they find something.”

“Used to?” Leo asks with a raised eyebrow. “You guys get that many gas leaks nowadays?”

Pierce grunts in acknowledgment while attempting to find a good place for his notebook to rest. “Goddamn it.”

“...What are you even writing anyway?” Lincoln asks, taking a few steps closer.

“Writing? Oh.” He flips the notebook around, showing a notebook full of messy drawings.

A small smirk arises from the corner of Lincoln’s mouth. “Stop, fuckin’ around, dumbass.”

“What? Look again.” He taps the top corner of the paper where a simple question mark sits in the corner. “I wrote literally everything we know, and as a bonus, I included everything we were told as well.” He moves his finger aside, revealing a second question mark.

“Hey,” Jessica says, snapping her fingers. “Why exactly are Consortium guys here anyway? You guys don’t do utilities and not in suits, I’m sure.”

“Huh?” Lincoln flicks his cigarette to the ground, stepping on it. “Nah, Consortium does utilities.”

Jessica looks the two men up and down, saying, “You expect me to believe you two are here to do utilities?”

“We don’t do utilities, but one of the branch companies does. I was just responding to what you said earlier,” he says, taking one more look at the sunrise. “You two know anything else? We aren’t allowed to work with people around.”

The two noble’s guards glance at one another and nod.

“Actually, we’d like to stay and watch,” Leo says.

Lincoln stares at the two with a blank face. “No.”

“What?” Jessica’s scowls. “Why not?”

Pierce yawns and looks up from his drawings, moving his finger between the two noble’s police. “Because it’s Consortium business now. We’ve been hired by the federal government and were assured privacy. You two and your buddies are supposed to be making sure we have a minimum of a half-hour of alone time.”

Leo’s mouth opens, but instead of words, a sigh escapes. He rolls his eyes and motions for Jessica to follow. She rolls her eyes as well, and the two move up the stairs.

“Alright, let's get this over with,” Pierce says, “We haven’t slept in days, and we gotta work the protests in a couple of days.”

“Why are they sending us to do that anyway?”

“Same reason we’re here.”

“Oh, yeah,” He takes out his box of cigarettes again, putting another one in his mouth. “...because there is no one else available. I haven’t slept since headquarters told us what our zone of suppression would be.”

He lights the cigarette and then reaches into his coat, removing a rectangular device. The device has a copper color; it is around nine inches long by six inches wide.

‘...It sort of reminds me of the device I saw when I first arrived and jumped into the chamber pot tunnels.’

Pierce stops drawing. “Oh, yeah. I got the cartridge.”

He removes a silver box about the size of a man’s fist from his own coat pocket. Pressing something, a blue light shines onto his face as he pulls a tube from the box.

Lincoln takes another puff of his cigarette before taking the tube from him. Tube in hand, he presses something on the side of the device, and an empty one slides out. Handing the old tube to Pierce, he slides the new one in. A hum comes from the device as he flips it over, revealing a glass bottom. Inside, dozens of gears can be seen spinning as a blue glow illuminates their copper surface.

“Didn’t we just get that thing fresh from the artificers in Chicago?” Pierce asks.

Lincoln nods. “I guess the humming sound wasn’t a big enough deal for them to actually fix anything.” He turns it back over and presses something. The device starts to ring. “Well, that took a literal second.”

“Fuck. Another time bomb, probably, and in such a public and open place. This might turn into a nightmare to suppress before our deadline.”

“Yep. Another one.” Pierce stuffs the notebook in a pocket and takes a clean black pocketbook. “I’ll squeeze this one between giant fuckin’ horse, killer sewer rat, and sentient meat. Things are so fucked, and there’s hardly anything we can do about it anymore.”

‘Killer… rat? Wait. Sentient meat?’

“Yeah. Just update our map and do our job. Still, it feels like we got assigned to the shittest part of the city.”

“With that sketchy Hex Church, Galtry, The Pit’s Maw, and the Espositos, you’d think this was the most dangerous place in the world.” Pierce sighs. “But It ain’t just here even if it seems like it. Just a few weeks, though, and then we can get back to Chicago.”

Lincoln grunts, moving the ringing device around the Terrace. He moves toward a familiar tree—node 1, which I placed when I first arrived. The ringing becomes more frequent as he approaches.

My fist clenches.

“Hmm. What do we have over here?” Lincoln says, approaching node 1.