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1036. The Lodefruit
🕑 Added 2025-07-12 11:22:17 +0000 UTCTen miniature Frosts ventured into the mist in all cardinal directions. Their relatively low HP and AGI meant that they had to use cover to avoid powerful predators.
The lack of any defensive stats also made it difficult to navigate treacherous terrain, such as jumping from tree to tree, or over gorges without risking an instant death.
Nevertheless, they patrolled the immediate kilometer around Frost and they began wandering along its circumference.
Meanwhile, Frost and Raoul picked a direction and stuck with it. Sound was the only medium they could sense beyond the fog. Frost called out once every minute hoping that someone would hear her voice.
“Jury! Joy! This is Frost! Anyone out there! Ceeeer! Reeeees! Hello, hello!”
But her echo was the only sound that had replied to her for the last thirty minutes.
Raoul made a strange face every time Frost called out ‘Hello’. She seemed torn between wanting to speak and being too lethargic to respond. It wasn’t until Frost caught her mouth mid-gape did Raoul finally speak up.
“Squads I used to partner with tried to avoid saying ‘Hello’.”
“CogitO, correct? Are their members not friendly?” Frost gave her an avenue to continue speaking. “We don’t tolerate that in the Nexus. We take morale seriously.”
Raoul hesitated. The words were stuck on the tip of her tongue. One would assume she refused to speak because of her new voice, but the truth was that Raoul simply did not care about their transformation.
And frankly speaking, Raoul could lose their legs, and she wouldn’t even bat an eye.
“Morale hasn’t been written on a priority since before I joined the Nexus. Either the job’s done, or you’re cut off. Overcomplicating it gets people killed. It’s for the best usually.”
“Do you honestly believe that?”
“Beholders, Stars, Moons, Exalted, millions more who came before you, and millions who live right now do. Millions in the future are going to live the same way. Death is the cure to misery. It always has been.”
Frost could only imagine what Raoul had to live through to possess such a world view.
And it wouldn’t be hard to do either.
Back on Earth, Frost… or rather, the Good Doctor, had been faced with situations where death was the preferable option. It was never an easy choice to make, nor could she bring herself to say it out loud like Raoul.
But in this world, it was impossible to deny that it was at least an option.
The world lent itself more to those who capitalized on their strength, and those who preyed on the weak. Death was a mercy compared to the countless brutal fates that waited at every corner in this world.
Those who killed their emotions and championed through violence were crowned as rulers.
Empathy and loved ones were a weakness.
Raoul, who had seen countless people come and go, knew better than to build new connections.
To people like Raoul, a simple ‘hello’ was a curse.
But Raoul also had another explanation.
“Mimicry, the Recapturing Lure, the Lyre’s Den, and Home, Sweet Home. Corrupted capable of mimicry soured its meaning. Lost some good partners to Home, Sweet Home. Woe of the Fallen Star hit Emvita hard a couple years back. This fog, the transformation, the names we’re given… It brings me back.”
Home, Sweet Home?
Home, Sweet Home
Corrupted Risk Classification: Woe of the Fallen Star
Stats: Unknown
< Historical Relevance: Last detected 22 years ago, southeast of the Central Forests of Justica. A lone house was seen atop an empty green pasture in the center of the fallen Dermount Kingdom. It – for a long time – possessed no anomalous properties beyond the strong sense of nostalgia it imprinted onto sapient life. Yet, it became responsible for the annihilation of Dermount Kingdom. >
From what Frost additionally gathered from Nav, it created a perfect home environment for those who entered through its front door. The Corrupted would then foster the reality closest to the ideal home for all individuals who had walked through its front door.
But when one wished to leave or escape the illusion, strange furniture began to appear within a 10-kilometer proximity of the Corrupted. Some would have cat ears. Others would have the inscription of an eye, or a name etched into the furniture.
They were, of course, made from the people who attempted to leave the Corrupted’s illusion.
“You fought it?”
“I watched people I knew by name beg me to take their lives. The same kind of people who clean up after the Crimson Hunger wouldn’t stomach how they fused with the walls. I had old friends, close partners, appear in people’s lives one day as objects. ImpulseWorks called it the Living Room before they decided to rename it.”
Raoul spoke dismissively of the memory as though it was not worth remembering. She viewed it as insignificant compared to what else she had witnessed; a mere footnote in the book that held pages upon pages of misery.
“It is what it is.” Raoul huffed from a luxurious-looking cigar. “Corruption would’ve stopped them from transforming.”
“They would’ve begged to die either way. Corruption isn’t a cure.” Frost asserted.
“No. But it’s the best fuckin’ answer this world has to offer.”
Nothing Frost said could get through to Raoul. Her Corruption didn’t change her mind either.
In the end, Frost returned to calling out for the others, all the while Raoul kept her ears out for any response. At the same time, Frost couldn’t help but wonder why Raoul was turned into a woman, and why she ended up shrinking.
Confessor and the Everyman. They don’t ring any bells. Role-wise, I can’t tell if I’m going to be confessing, or if Raoul, or anybody, will be confessing to me. Everyman for Raoul… The meaning itself is the everyday person, right? Or does it have to do with him becoming a woman?”
It was on the nose, but that was nothing new. Nav thought otherwise, however.
“You may be looking for meaning in a place that is devoid of it. The ‘man’ part of Everyman likely has little to do with the namesake’s meaning of the everyday person. The transformation itself is pending. But it may be a test. Raoul does not seem to care. You on the other hand are, so to speak, rejecting your role by the virtue of not wanting to be smol.”
Frost physically recoiled at Nav’s spelling of ‘small’. Half of the reason was because Nav flashed it in front of her in a giant, bold font.
Lucky you’re not here. Otherwise, we’d have a handheld GPS version of you. We would call you pocket Nav.
“Pokenav?” Nav referenced a popular show from Earth, although Frost didn’t recall anything resembling this name.
The joke fell flat as a result.
*
The terrain didn’t change. The ground was uncannily even. Not a single root jutted from the ground. The only tangible difference was the level of vegetation. It became denser the further south they went.
Raoul took out a strange pale fruit from her [Dimensional Storage]. She held it to the sky, and the apex of the fruit pointed northwards, confirming that they were indeed moving south.
Frost couldn’t Analyze this fruit, but Raoul was able to tell her that it was called a Lodefruit. It had the unique ability to pinpoint the Nexus no matter where they were in the world. Even when underground, it would still function as a natural compass.
The tree it grew from was called the Lodetree and had a legendary status due to its immense rarity. Stars did not require a Lodefruit, since they could sense the Nexus through its throes. But as an Ex-Star, it came in handy.
Upon closer inspection, Frost faintly saw a spark of light in the air precisely where the Lodefruit pointed.
“Is this also a panacea? Looks like it fell right out of the Nexus. Can it work like a cure-all?” A soft glimmer of Light pulsed within the Lodefruit.
Eating it would undoubtedly increase her maximum Light capacity. Its pristine appearance, the way it glowed in the light of her eyes, and its sacred aura convinced her that this was a holy fruit.
But reality was often misleading.
“It’d put a Star out of commission.” Raoul bluntly said.
She hurled it into the air and caught it with her other hand and then drew it near her fangs.
“Severing of the divine light, we liked to call it. Temporary, but it’ll screw a Star over. I’ve seen it lead to minor instability with Stars who rely on the Nexus’ throes. Bastards need the Nexus to think for them. They’re the same people who criticize the Missionaries of Act X for following the Scripts. Can’t say I’m all that different.”
Frost reached out for it. She had to stand on her toes just to be able to touch it.
“Really? This little thing severs their connection to the Nexus? Sounds like their bodies don’t know how to respond to extra Light. I wonder if it’s the same with me. If I give a Star extra Light, would they be severed?”
“Don’t ask me. I know fuck all compared to you. The Light has infinite possibilities. But it has just as many drawbacks. Qliphoth is one of them if you want to call it a tradeoff.”
The object fascinated Frost. She polished it against her oversized coat and caught a glimpse of her young appearance. Instant disgust filled her, and she winced as if she had swallowed a bitter pill.
“You got another?”
“I have a few.”
“Mind if I take this off you?”
“I don’t have a use for them anymore. Rob me if you need to.”
Frost growled and flicked the Demi-Human’s elbow in annoyance. The flick strangely didn’t connect, or it at least was so light that it didn’t register for Frost.
“What kind of a person do you think I am?” She pouted unintentionally. “I’m not going to fight you over a fruit. Assert yourself more. It’s not the best advice since you’re a Repenter now, but your lack of assertiveness led you to here in the first place.”
The fruit snapped in her jaw and burst like a popped grape. The ambrosial taste danced along her tongue, and her cheeks squeezed from the unbelievable sweetness.
It took her by surprise. A familiar warmth invaded her chest. When she checked her stats, she saw that she had gained 1 additional maximum Light.
< Unique Ability Gained >
< ABILITY: Fruit of Divine Succulence >
< EFFECT: Procure Lodefruits containing exactly 1 Light. Repeated consumption may invoke Instability or Corruption >
