According to Tapio, the anomalous nature of the Frontier was the result of the fractured sky and the influence of creatures that dwelt beyond it. The combined efforts of the Oracle Bureau kept its borders at bay, but one day, it would spread until it consumed the entire world. He suspected that the Oracle Bureau wasn’t actively searching for a way to close the Solar Tear (the official name that nobody actually used, apparently) so he pulled together his own forces over the years and worked to find a permanent solution.

It was a very noble goal, but I had to politely decline.

Sure, this non-lizard old man saw a lot of potential in me, but I was a rock that had just acquired a text-to-speech device. I wasn’t going to smash any heavens or hells in my current state.

Maybe later, pops.

Tapio took the rejection in stride. “You’ll have to forgive me,” he said, walking me out to his living space. “Seeing a ghost like Jack got me a little… quixotic. But forget that, I’m running a business these days. Still need to balance the budget between ideals and reality.”

The old man placed me on a rug in front of a fireplace and walked back to his workshop, saying, “I have deadlines to meet today. A friend will be coming over later to see about removing all that slag you’re encased in, and if you feel the need to play with that pistol or Relic Stones, drop by the workshop. Feel free to make yourself at home until then.”

He left me with Samson’s beacon and a fuzzy cushion which I couldn’t appreciate. There was a collection of pet toys stored in a basket near me, and even some smooth jazz playing from a speaker near me; he pulled out all the stops in making me feel comfortable.

What was I, a cat?

Come on. I’ve endured much worse than a cozy living room. I won’t go ballistic at something as small as not having toys to play with or not having a nice place to perch.

Seeing as I was in relative privacy, I pulled over Samson’s beacon with my winds and pushed some of the buttons. The screen lit up nice and bright, fully revitalized:

Samson, LE 1429, Second Winter. No astral receiver — insert new network-shard. Last message recorded on 4/3/1114. Routine: Encrypted (Password Protected).

Right away, I noticed that the astral message changed. Seems like that crafty old man removed this thing’s abilities to communicate with other devices, which was a very smart move. Nothing good could come of somebody catching wind of a 300-year-old device blinking distress calls.

I still remembered Samson’s last words, telling me not to laugh at his top-secret password.

Rest easy, friend. Your secrets are safe with me.

Probably.

I entered the password via number pad and was promptly welcomed by a menu. I knew my way around electronic devices, so I navigated directly to the data and scanned for prevalent information.

Samson had a passing interest in poetry and schlocky action stories, but there was a particular directory named ‘WORKS IN PROGRESS’ in which he hid most of his secretive files. I had his post-mortem blessing, so I pried the folders open and learned everything I could.

There was a lot to read through, so I’ll do my best to summarize.

Three hundred years ago, a specialized unit made up of operatives from around the world planned an operation to intercept the S.T.A.R., an experimental weapon developed by an empire known as the Northern Celestial Apostles. This team called themselves the Black Doves, a one-time force brought together to stop its alleged deployment in the atmosphere.

This mission to save the world was dubbed Operation Starfall: to bring down a star before it could rise to the skies.

Operation Starfall was a catastrophic failure.

Three hundred years ago, a premature detonation caused the Northern Celestial Apostles to fall. The shattered sky, a once-rare phenomenon localized to the Apostles’ territory, spread without restraint.

The land, once lush with rivers and peach trees, became a barren, reality-defying waste. Those that could escape fled to neighboring lands and settled. Their cities crumbled into the ruins they are today. And from the empire’s corpse bloomed the Frontier: a new, untamed land ripe for reclamation.

Samson was one of twelve operatives sent on this doomed mission, forsaking his former identity and nation to head out on this top-secret mission.

To the eyes of the world, Operation Starfall never happened. This was a secret that would disappear with the Doves; a three-hundred year — and counting — conspiracy to conceal the nature of the Frontier.

I didn’t need to know much about the world at large to know this information could change the world. But there was something hidden deep within the beacon, a collection of files much worse than a world-sustaining lie.

Schematics. Blueprints. Research notes. They were encrypted and hidden away, but they were there.

—Everything.

Against his orders, against his mission, against common sense itself, Samson went ahead and made a copy of the S.T.A.R. Project.

...Why?

Who in the right mind would want to keep a copy of a project that destroyed an empire? If your goal was world peace, then the world was better off without this knowledge. Forget mutually assured destruction; this was a matter of dumping napalm on the bathwater baby and tossing the whole burning package into a volcano. This wouldn’t do anybody any good at all.

As a refresher, a force known as Qi was part of every living entity. By manipulating and cultivating it within one’s body, one could achieve supernatural feats and push the body well beyond its means. This was nothing new.

The STAR Project sought to utilize the polar opposite of this force. By using an energy dubbed as ‘Solar Ether’, somebody could create a miracle energy with potential beyond nuclear fusion. At the same time, it could potentially erase Qi from existence and create a chain of events that would lead to an apocalyptic waste beyond human comprehension.

This was too dangerous.

No government, no group, no individual could ever handle a power like this responsibly, no matter how noble they claim to be. The only thing following mutually assured destruction was a living hell; it’s better to never get to that point.

Since I still had a perfect, frighteningly machine-like memory, I burned every available detail related to the STAR Project into my mind. Then I wiped the beacon clean.

If somebody wanted access to this knowledge, they’d have to pry it out from me. Even then, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to store the raw data of weapons anywhere. That had to go.

Judging by the notes, my current perception was some ungodly blend of both ‘Solar Ether’ and Qi, but I didn’t want to ponder it any further. I’d send myself into another existential spiral if I realized I was a weapon of mass destruction with a mind; if I simply ignored it and busied myself with smaller things, then maybe the issue would simply never come up again. This was far beyond being helpless; this was dealing with the fate of the world here.

Safe to say, covering my ears and screaming was not a good long-term solution. But I needed more time and knowledge to deal with what was in my lap.

From here on out, I promised to myself that I’d tackle my issues one at a time. This was for the sake of my mental health and motivation — anybody would panic when confronted with every single issue in the world at once.

And if Samson woke up, he had some serious questions to answer for. His will was worthless when I could kick him directly and make him fess up to whatever ridiculous plan he had for all this.

As fun as pretending to be a cat was, simple leisure wasn’t enough to calm my racing mind. I decided to wander around the premises, learning what I could about the place I’d be staying at for the foreseeable future.

The place was split into two distinct sections, the workshop and the residential quarter. I was careful not to leave any scratches on the hardwood flooring, since I was certain that it would terminate the host’s goodwill towards me.

There were four bedrooms and a master office, the last of which obviously belonged to Tapio.

Bathrooms. Kitchen with a microwave and refrigerator. Living room. Heck, the old guy even had a room dedicated to billiards — not that I could play a round.

Jaxl was out cold in one of the bedrooms and another was locked up tight, probably occupied by that shadow then they were around. Not wanting to ruin anything by touching it with my Ether tendrils, I went back to the workshop and watched Tapio work his magic.

He was putting the finishing touches on the weightless fire hammer, carefully etching in winged engravings into the sides of the business end.

“As a man wiser than I once said,” Tapio muttered, glancing in my direction as he worked, “engravings offer no tactical advantage whatsoever. Yet some clients insist on it. Can’t argue with the money, I suppose.”

Time to put that vocoder to work. “May I ask some questions while you work, please?”

He smiled. “Absolutely. It’ll help me get my mind off this extremely well-paying waste of time.”

“Thank you.” I had an entire laundry list of questions saved up. Best to start at the top. “...Where is Hadron?”

“It’s a junction city nestled somewhere between this dimension and the next, kept functional with the Raven Prince’s sorcery.”

Instantaneous teleportation magic via preset doorways. An entire city in a sub-dimension?

We indulged in some further small talk to pass the time, but I came to Tapio with a goal in mind. When he seemed comfortable enough, I asked my question:

“What is the Qliphoth?”

“They’re a collection of creatures that used to be human,” he answered in a quieter tone, as though wary of prying ears. He looked around before continuing. “They’re not limited to the Frontier anymore either, but the Bureau’s been handling the spread fairly well.”

Inverting. Didn’t Samson say that it almost happened to me?

“Is that why Jaxl is obsessed with them?”

Tapio fell silent. He put down the axe he was working on and looked out the window, ruminating on an answer.

“It’s not my place to speak for him,” he said. “Try not to bring it up unless you need to. It’s a bit of a… sensitive topic for him.”

He stood up and walked to the window. I followed, propping myself up on the windowsill to stare into the same vista of clouds and floating island as he was.

“If you can, be kind to that old lizard. His body and mind are at their very limits, and if I’m going to be very honest, I don’t think he’ll make it to the end of next year.”

Was it really that bad? He seemed healthy in both categories when I chatted with him and patched him up.

“If I didn’t help him now, I’m sure he’d end up dead in a ditch or alley within the week. We worked for a long time as partners, and though I never learned how to fight like he did, I’ve learned how to predict certain aspects of the future.” He looked at me and asked, “What do you think? Have you known him long enough to develop an opinion?”

I didn’t.

Jaxl proved himself to be trustworthy enough, but I hardly knew him. Did he really intend to die when I first encountered him?

He fought recklessly, without care for harm or danger. I still wasn’t sure how he could casually take a shot through the heart to trap his enemy; when I pulled a similar strategy to escape, I was slipping into stress-induced insanity.

A person who could take those kinds of risks wasn’t right in the head. I needed to know a lot more about him and this world before I could make any proper judgement calls, but I personally didn’t mind him.

Maybe, just maybe, if we kept working together, things would end well for the both of us.

Loud wind chimes rang as I thought about how to word those vague feelings into a coherent statement. Tapio checked his watch, then gestured to the front of the building.

“Talk to him when he’s awake,” he said. “Your consultant’s arrived.”

My consultant stared at me for some time, hemming and hawing as she drummed her bandaged fingers on the table. I sat before her patiently, wondering what was going on behind those intense green eyes of hers.

“That’s it!” she said. She snapped her fingers, then clapped her hands together. “Say something funny!”

It seems like I was mistaken.

You really going to put me on the spot like that? Comedy? I’m not a very funny person, you know?

Despite this unexpected request, I did have one secret weapon. Just this once, I’d have to go all out with a technique I dared not even touch in the darkest of times.

Breathe in, breathe out. Tap into the darkness within.

Come forth, my laughing demons, the true essence of comedy!

“—Gneiss to meet you.”

Puns, the intellectual trench of wit and continued torture for poor words stretched ten-thousand ways. I would be ashamed of myself, were I not already at rock bottom.

Her name was Nina, and she was the most normal person I met to date.

Normal human ears. Normal human eyes. Normal human hair. By the Gods, she even wore normal clothes compared to all the nutjobs and their masks and cloaks.

“This is my first time ever working for a rock,” Nina said. She had a wide smile on her face as she picked me up and said, “Wow. Wow! She’s light, too! There’s some magnesium derivatives in there — what a find, old man!”

I could practically see the dollar signs in her eyes as she swung me around like a toy. She had to be freakishly strong from working as a blacksmith.

Tapio warned me about this. Apparently some of the metal and crystal melded into my amalgamation of a rock was pretty valuable these days, but I didn’t expect to be treated like a prize-winning puppy dog for it.

Not that I minded. It felt nice to be validated, even if Nina was basically stealing my kidneys.

“Hey, do you have a name? Tell me your name. I’ll promise I’ll split the profits with you — we can skip the middleman and share directly in profit!”

“She works for Kon Atelier,” Tapio said, watching this tomfoolery from afar. “And no, pay your taxes Nina.”

“Neeerghgh,” said Nina. “Taxation is theft in the Frontier. Why bother with the marketplace and Bureau regulations when you can have an honest consumer-merchant handshake?” She continued shaking me gently, asking, “Ignore that old man. Hey, do you have a name? C’mon, tell me, tell me!”

“Don’t have one,” I said.

Any ordinary person would’ve gotten motion sickness by now. I dearly hoped that this Nina would never be allowed near a baby.

“Well, that’s a shame.”

She placed me on a nearby counter and rested her chin on folded arms. As she fiddled with her blonde bangs, she suddenly grinned and said, “Rocky, mind if I give you a name? I swear I’ll make it a nice one.”

Tapio groaned and said, “Don’t encourage her. Nina gets like this from time to time.”

“Shush, old man. This is between me and rocky.”

A name. I didn’t need one until now, but this awfully energetic lady was really worked up about it.

Screw it. This lady seemed like a nice person to be around, and since she was a proper metalworker, she’d be one of my greatest allies in the future. This would help a future partnership.

“I would be extremely grateful if you did.”

Mentally shrugging, I decided to let her have her way. No harm in giving a name.

“Ace.” Nina patted me and gave me an excited thumbs up. “I’ll think about it while I work. You won’t be disappointed.”

So she was reserving naming rights. I shot a playful gust of wind at her and said, “I’m looking forward to it, then.”

Nina had a portable furnace and a full set of advanced tools that she pulled out of a dimensional bag. Then she took a hammer and started smashing me to bits.

“Don’t worry!” she called out as she turned me to rubble. “I’m being extra careful with the bits that are you. You can trust me!”

As beneficial as the process was, I didn’t want to watch. It was the same as watching yourself getting open-heart surgery — that was nerve-wracking in ways that I didn’t want to even think about.

When I previously reinforced myself with metal, I was confident that I wouldn’t end up destroying myself via heat. And I was right. The material that made up me could only be damaged with attacks that utilized Ether. I could be destroyed pretty easily by any creature, but at least I wouldn’t succumb to a nasty fall or suffer death by burning alive.

Tapio visited every so often, providing Nina with a cup of tea or some biscuits during her breaks. It took some time to discombobulate me to my base components, so she had plenty of time to catch up with the old man.

“How’s business been?” Tapio asked during one of his breaks. “I’m surprised you came by as quickly as you did.”

“Busy as all hell,” Nina replied. “I was in the neighborhood. Figured I drop by.”

I could hear them conversing outside as I was getting tumbled around in a separator. Eavesdropping made me feel guilty, but I didn’t have much else to do.

“I really hope she’s around the next time I drop by,” Nina continued. I could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “You think she likes me? I’d love to have a companion of my own, y’know? I get kinda lonely these days...”

“I’m not keeping him or her here out of mere novelty,” Tapio said. “One of their secrets could already completely destabilize the Relic market, and I’m sure they’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

“Oho? And…?”

“I’m not letting the Bureau know. Sentient Relics date back from antiquity. The final message recorded on that beacon linked back to the exact day of the fall of the Apostles. There’s a lot more going on with that Relic than meets the eye.”

“Yeesh.”

They were talking past each other. Judging by Nina’s tone, she didn’t have the same enthusiasm for overthrowing the system and whatever else Tapio stood for — she was much more concerned with messing with the fancy Relic and making some money.

Nina sighed and said, “If things get really bad, I’ll be around to help.”

Their conversation hit a lull.

Tapio took a long sip of his tea. Then, in a low voice, he said, “I think you should run.”

“...What?”

“The Four Rings are intensifying their movements across the Frontier. Jack’s back, and he’s as much of a wildcard as ever. And you already know the situation with the last three Federations. Even Hadron won’t be safe forever.”

Nina stared at the old man and his words.

Moments later, she scoffed.

“You worry way too much. Relax! People have learned from the Light War — there won’t be another conflict on that scale for a while. Have some faith in your fellow man and the power of coming together to solve huge problems.”

“Hm.” Tapio clasped his hands in his lap and said, “I hope you’re right. I really do.”

“But if I am going to run, I’m taking the Relic with me. I always wanted a friend that could fit in my pocket!’

Tapio chuckled. Seeing as his own break was over, he cleared the dishes and left with a big goofy grin. “We’ll see about that.”

When evening (according to the clocks) came, I was separated into five components: a pile of dirty slag, three shiny stamped ingots, and one baby-fist sized chunk of vaguely reddish gemstone.

“And before I forget,” Nina said, bending down near the gemstone that was me, “I got you a little welcoming gift. I hope you like it.”

She placed a device with a tiny keypad on the counter I was on, along with a tiny slip of paper. Sensing her intent, I flipped the paper over and read the text:

VIVIAN [vee-VYA-na]

The name of a recent saint. It means alive, which is perfectly fitting here!

STIGMATA of WIND: CYCLE TURBINE

Gears that welcome tomorrow. A wind beyond the skies.

Was the device a bribe to accept the name? I think it was.

I remembered my reflection in the water’s of my mind: I was a plain-looking lady black-haired with dull blue eyes and an insufferable smirk. Taking on a girl’s name wouldn’t conflict too much with my current self-image, and Vivian was the name the device was already set up for.

A name was just a name. It wasn’t integral to my sense of self, so if it made somebody else happy, it’s no skin off my back.

Not that I had skin, anyhow.

“A name of life. I will cherish it for as long as I live.”

I was exaggerating a little, but don’t get me wrong — I was genuinely happy that somebody else had taken a passing interest in me.

“Excellent,” said Nina, looking very pleased with herself. “All in a day’s work!” She shot Tapio a thumbs up and continued, “I’ll send over the profits in a day or two. Already got a buyer.”

That caught the old man’s attention. He looked away from the axe he was working on and asked, “How much?”

“You’ll be very pleased with the amount. It’s a win-win for everybody involved, especially for me and Vivy!

While the exchange was all well and good, a happy and profitable ending to this day in time, Nina did slip in one more detail I couldn’t ignore.

“What’s a Stigmata?”

Nina tilted her head, confused. “What do you mean? Did the old man not tell you?”

“Don’t overwhelm her with information,” Tapio cut in. “There is no rush to learn.”

Don’t underestimate me. I’ve broken out of hell itself before; a few tidbits of important-sounding trivia wouldn’t phase me.

“I can handle it,” I said.

“Stigmatas are powers that exist outside of the Nexus system and known sorceries,” Nina said. “These days, they’re not really impressive compared to some of the crazy abilities you can buy from the Oracle Bureau, but at least they’re free. I heard they awaken in times of extreme mental distress in those capable of developing them.”

Extreme mental distress. I knew a thing or two about that.

That sounded oddly similar to Manifests, actually. I made a mental note to ask Jaxl about it when I saw him again.

“It’s not good to ask others how they got their Stigmatas, so let’s leave it there.” She stretched her arms above her head, looking towards the clock. “But seriously, I’ve gotta get going soon. Today was a nice day. Let’s keep in touch, ‘kay?”

“I’ll do my best,” I said.

I had a creeping suspicion that going insane allowed me to harness something that should’ve been impossible. Life or death situations have a tendency of pulling out your inner potential, if you have any left to spare when they come around.

Those unpleasant times were over, though. Best keep my chin up and get on with my life in this new world.

The realization that this could be my new life struck me after Nina left for the day. She was a living example that non-combatants could make it in this world; she was physically strong, built tough from working metal and hammering ingots into shape, not brutalizing other people and slaughtering monsters for profit.

I spent the evening on the cat bed Tapio provided, idly chattering with Nina through the device. She bombarded me with information, rambling about her personal life and the best places to eat at in Hadron, the best and worst kinds of movies, how to get free music through a few sketchy websites hosted on the Nexus servers — it was oddly nostalgic, being able to waste away an evening by a warm fire. The very picture of peace.

A calm, quiet lifestyle where I could relax and live without stress. If I somehow gained a body capable of eating food and drinking fine liquor, I would be the happiest creature in this realm. This was the life I had been denied for so long; the life of an ordinary person.

Sure, there were plenty of trials and tribulations in the ordinary. You’d have to deal with things like taxes, long jobs, and finding a place to live; finding love and raising a family was a tough and stressful time.

No matter how hard it got, I’m sure it would be much easier than carrying the weight of the world.

There was no way I could handle that kind of stress. After breaking down so many times, I knew my limits. Tapio’s warnings to Nina about the Four Rings and upcoming conflicts, the records of the STAR project, those cursed memories from a different time, that damned smiling woman, I didn’t want to deal with any of that. All of that was too much for somebody like me.

I considered the situation. I considered what I had to lose, and what I had to gain.

Nina offered to help me run away, to escape all of this. If things got really bad, I’d have to take her up on that deal and get away from all this future chaos before it was too late. I’d run far away from this matchbox waiting to go off and distance myself from all the fuel in the fire. And definitely, most definitely, I’d learn how to be happy again.

That night, surrounded by warm sentiments and kind thoughts, I finally learned how to fall asleep and dream.

Some of us are lucky enough to escape the shackles of the past and embrace whatever future is most appealing.

Some of us aren’t so lucky.

There are those who are unable to abandon responsibility and the circumstances that make a person who they are. Some may reach out towards rosy ideals and find themselves bleeding out on hidden thorns. Some may be trapped by the unending mazes of their own conflicted minds.

For some of us, there is no such escape.

Karma is one of the most misunderstood concepts to ever grace the human mind. It is not the idea that humans get what they deserve, or that good begets good and evil perpetrates more evil. Some may fail to understand that karma is not tied to a single person’s life.

Each action has a consequence. Some actions may not see consequence for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years, but the consequence will eventually come. This is certain.

In the middle of that very night, Kon Atelier received a distress call requesting immediate assistance.

RELIC HUNTER [OWL]: IN CRITICAL CONDITION

UNKNOWN ASSAILANTS. IMMEDIATE MEDICAL ATTENTION REQUIRED.

If karma was a chain of thorns, this was one of the sparks that would turn this world to flame.