Pure white that makes me feel at ease. That’s the evanescent space I find myself in.

It feels infinite. So expansive that even if I could move, I feel that I’d never reach the end of this place no matter how far I roamed.

Yet, concurrently, it feels finite, confining even.

This space… I like it here. A Brick does not mind where it ends up nor what inexplicable space it’s shoved into.

But I know that this isn’t real. Loitering in a single location for centuries tends to make one all the more aware of reality and fantasy. Or is it that Bricks are simply that grounded into reality that I can tell apart all falsehoods? I mean, I had a lot of time to contemplate hidden rationale and the philosophy of the Arcane ayont as well as the psionic boundaries.

Unlike those of blood and flesh…

Only Bricks can see the truth of reality!

Which is why, despite being trapped in this strange ephemera, I can already see the light of dawn, and the earthen ground.

The loamy soil that’s so very familiar, yet exotic.

Indeed! This soil is so rich, so benisoned! The clay content in this soil is at 26.3%~!

How flecked and radiant is this soil? Not even this humble Brick can tell. Sombre fog still surrounds me and looking around, it seems I’ve been moved roughly 196.66 cm from my original lodged position in the sunken earth.

Who knew such blest ground was a mere Brick’s throw away!

“Hmm? A reaction… Who broke out of the vacant plane?” A humming voice resounds.

It’s a Witch!

That crooked hat and those implements are unmistakably the diableries of a witch. Not to mention that cackle she’s making right now…

Tie her to a stake and burn her!

“Strange… What’s this ominous noise?”

Throw her down the Ponty Lake!

“Where is this malicious… force, coming from?”

Witch!

“Oh my gods… Where are you?!” It cranks its head all around, akin to a broken Marionette.

“AHHH!” They release a shrill scream, going further beyond soprano ranges than thought possible, “Come out! GET OUT!”

Tsk, looks like the witch has gone hysterical. It was bound to happen when pondering eldritch magicks.

The inane witch starts bashing their head with their evil Witch Stick like they’re partially possessed. Well, they probably are. I heard that deals with demons usually never end well.

And with Ribbon’s input, I can be assured so.

“GEEET OOOOUT! OOOOUT!”

Hmm, barring the inane shrieking, it seems that our little band of Captains and Lieutenants have stopped dead in their tracks. Well, they were dead to begin with but that’s beside the point.

I try to identify the Witch for a more solid clue to their affiliation, and that’s when I notice the strange Midget next to the brown haired Witch.

An extremely pale and white haired… Midget with a yellowed sheet of parchment stuck to their forehead. On normal days, I wouldn’t find much fault with this individual, but with the mild diminishment of the perpetual haze of these Plains, I can actually see!

That parchment does not meet the standardised size requirements!

It’s size is much too small, not to mention that it’s extremely slimmed down, like it were strangely elongated.

Now, one may say that it could’ve been a freak manufacture accident. But they display it on their face like it’s some trophy.

Its intent is to display this heinous fraud to the whole realm.

In other words… It’s a Criminal!

A Criminal and a Witch!

Both Enemies of the Imperium!

Foul scum! Yee deserve to be whipped, flayed, hung, drawn and quartered!

“H-Hey, sister, ar-are you okay?”

“Can’t you hear the Leymes? Flay the criminal, burn the witch… That’s all I hear! Like a broken record, it gets increasingly distorted, louder and oppressive with each repetition!”

“I d-don’t hear anything…” The Criminal timidly backs off at the Witch’s assertion.

“Sh-Shit, at this rate, the reality seal is gonna wear off before their egos are crushed…”

“Isn’t that bad? I don’t think we can beat them if they suddenly wake up…”

The two seem to be the cause behind the strange, white space phenomenon. And well, seeing their distressed antics are quite funny.

"I'm sorry sister, but we won't be able to crush their egos anyways so forgive for this!"

With tears in their eyes, the Criminal tosses more unstandardised parchments in the air, performing some foreign technique in futile desperation.

But it’s futile! Don’t think littering you’re strange… frankly, nice looking parchments will change anything! Though, on a more legitimate note, I’ve seen parchment so white… It looks even softer than Imperiu—

Cease the thought! I heard everything, and with the Witch looking like a greenhorn on the field for the first time, this seal thing is sure to break.

Kekekekekek, I laugh at your hapless ordeal!

Kekekeke—-.

But someone… interrupts me? There's a soft tightening around me.

What? They break my cackle.

It’s like a child is moping at me, miffed at my condemning. The silken touch is familiar.

Ribbon? I’m know it’s you, y’know? It’s not easy to hide from a Brick.

They remain silent, perhaps indignant about some misdeed I’ve performed?

But I quickly realise why. It seems that I’ve counted my hens too early. That Criminal hath enacted yet another dastardly action!

“S-Sister, please don’t punish me later!”

I can’t understand half the words of their tongue, but the gathering of essence is enough to know that it’s doing something drastic.

“Ten Thousand Spell Card Technique!” They toss yet more unstandardised parchment into the air. I count thirty three in total, but upon the Criminal’s evocation, they split and divide multiplying to a greater effect of six hundred and fifty two.

It was a foreign technique, but it bore resemblance to Imperial Evocation.

So I hazard a guess in saying that she was an Evoker, who defected with the Witch in the promise of greater power. And that Witch gave it in the form of that unstandardised paper? That seems about right. A poor Evoker, beguiled by the charms of the Witch…

What a tragic chronicle!

The barrage that went up, quickly fell down. Pulled down by the force of the realm.

More tragic still! The poor Captains and Lieutenants, having just woken up from their long slumber are subjected to yet another inert state. The ostenibly infirm unstandardised parchment, hardened and slugged all beneath them.

The kinetic impact was enough level ground and sweep the mist.

Like the repetition of history, the Captains fall to the ground, as they had long ago.

If we use their previous record as a basis, then they should get up after another 5.58e+6 hours.

Very long but I can wait.

On another note, that Criminal… Its attack was indiscriminate and needless to say, it’s a miracle Ribbon only got off with just a couple chars… It pains me to see the dire consequences of my actions. Not even during my stint as Wall did I ever feel such a feeling as I do now.

It's strange. A Brick doesn't know the meaning of pain, but I do. This was not what the Architects intended, but perhaps it was the lingering will of the Masons? They loved every Brick, every stone as they did their firstborn.

But then, what do I do? This is not my affordance! This is wrong, but I want it to stay wrong. Why so?

You'll see in due time. Do not fret the now for the then will present you your answers. The end is the goal so do not stray, simply stack what you can now and the then will complete itself regardless of your intentions.

If the cornerstone were to be frailer than thought, then change the corner.

If the walls are shorter than estimated, then make it taller.

If the architecture is not to your liking, then change it.

In the end, you have the power.

This proverb… It was a long time ago, I head this, before Wall.

I remember now, the wisdom of the Masons.

Affordance is temporary. Imperium is eternal.

The end will come regardless of my affordance, so there is nothing to be done, except what is to be done.

Oh how I’d love to see what fate has in store for you, damned

Criminal.