The final Arbiter’s Council of 350 PA was held on the 45th of the 10th – the Last Solstice.
All resolutions regarding the recent events passed with flying colors. The advent of war was upon them and the Impuritas – which had sought to weaken the bonds of the Ateliers – only managed to breathe new life back into the carcass of two ancient Ateliers of the Nexus.
Caldera Industries and Inflow Direct were greenlit by the Head to reinstate processes that were banned by the Armistice Point Treaty; a treaty that had both Ateliers prohibited from developing powerful weapons and personnel of war.
The reason it existed was to allow the Beholders of the current age to live in their so-called harmony, which was cleverly disguised as a cold war. Furthermore, as the demand for Nex increased there was little incentive to waste it on such powerful assets when total war between the Ateliers became increasingly unlikely.
Additionally, most problems such as the Impuritas and the Corrupted could be dealt with externally. Maintenance was also a large contributing factor that laid their arms to rest.
However, their unity and a pipeline into the Derma Layer had awakened both Ateliers to begin full-scale Pre-War in Heaven production. No longer did the Ateliers have to fear one another, for they had the assurance of the Amalgam and now Time Reverberation.
What took years now only took months.
And on the eve of the 46th the Vermillion Moons prepared to become the first official war-tailored Moons of the Nexus. No longer were they a paramilitary force of an external group. They were now an in-house military force that only served the Head.
Their trial run was of course going to be held in the upcoming war against the Impuritas Beholder Knalzark coined as the War in Hell.
A train sped from city to city via the intercity Gates. The train itself was unspectacularly sterile and had only two seats that ran along the edges. There was only one major compartment which combined the Train Conductor’s Cabin with the rest of the train.
All forty-five Vermillion Moons filled both seats as they wore blindfolds. The Train Conductor stood at the front of the seemingly normal train as they temporarily passed through the darkness of the Subcut Layer, his eyes fixed on the crimson hair of the Moons to distract him from the horrible vibrations.
The Train Conductor was a man with a single clawed prosthetic arm which clasped at a Train Core. His apparel was no different to most Train Conductors, but he could have easily passed as an Inflow Direct Liquidator with his arm. Not to mention he had an artificial, red eye that glowed beneath his blue-embroidered captain’s hat.
“Full speed ahead. Destination: Sector CQ; Three – One – Administrator.” He spoke in a deep, lethargic voice. “Fifteen minutes until arrival. Will you not take a seat, Missionary of Act X?”
“I was told to stand as their guide. I interpreted it as a literal command.” A Missionary joined them in the cramped train as they barreled their way towards the City of Clubs. More than half of the compartment was smothered by the length of her blade and the pristine cloth that draped from it. “I’m only here until we return to H10. You can think of me as an escort for this one.”
A gloved hand pinched the cheek of a grey-haired woman who was partially consumed by the Missionary’s garbs. It was the recently captured Expositionist who was wrapped in a series of belts and chains, her arms tied around her body in a straitjacket.
Furthermore, the many hidden hands of the Missionary held her close. Wherever the Missionary moved the Expositionist followed. One can imagine her being a hermit crab with the Missionary serving as her sapient shell.
The haughtiness from before she met the Amalgam had long disappeared, and being in the presence of such powerful enemies deeply unsettled her.
“Isn’t it dangerous for that portal to remain so far behind the walls?” The obviously high-ranking Train Conductor questioned, seemingly out of the loop as if he had only just awakened.
“It will be moved to Atlas soon. One of Caldera Industries’ sleeping strongholds lies underneath the Nexus after all.” The Missionary hummed, a hand roaming across the stomach of the Expositionist.
“The Seal.” She recited in response. “A place we could never tread. The seal that locked everything unwanted under the blood and bones of millions. Insanity. The Amalgam planned to extinguish us all from the start.”
The Expositionist fiddled with her tongue with the intention of clamping down on it. However, a finger rummaged through her mouth to precisely prevent that.
“Your soul is tethered elsewhere, but one cut of your strings will spell the end of you regardless.” The Missionary snipped the air above the woman’s head with her fingers.
The woman gagged on the length of the finger. The taste of blood and leather nearly caused her to vomit. Not that it was possible with her body to begin with. The Missionary indulged in her curiosity, seeing the woman as nothing more than a pet to sate it.
Her hollow eyes stared down at her with a blank expression. Her dark blue hair meshed well with her light-purple skin, and the long horn atop her head threatened the woman.
“I know your kind well. To think so little of life makes you less than an insect.”
“You don’t value them. Unlike us, we know the value of their lives!” She muffled retorted before her jaw was stretched wide open by two fingers.