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1014. A Promise To Remain Human
🕑 Added 2025-06-02 10:00:56 +0000 UTCAiming, healing, communication, combat – Frost excelled in games revolving around these. But when it came to games of chance, and when she shut her eyes and used her invisible eyes to view the world, then she’d find herself losing these games.
The fishing game, a cup game where one had to find which cup contained the coin, a game where one had to finely control their breaths to move a feather but to also avoid disturbing grains of sand, and finally – a card game that required one to bluff.
She had an advantage over the last one.
But having confidence despite possessing a losing hand didn’t change the outcome if the opponent went through with their own hand.
Jury had taken Frost to experience these new games, albeit she was familiar with several of them. Still, she couldn’t help but feel like a weight had been taken off her shoulders as they trekked through a nearby forest.
They scaled a small hill and found an overgrown lookout which oversaw the city of Ardor. Faint chirps of cicadas, and the gentle midnight breeze parted fallen leaves as though nature was paying its respect to the duo.
The clacking of Frost’s wooden slippers punctuated the air. It matched the thump of her heartbeat as Jury’s tail wrapped around her waist. She hadn’t asked Jury why their plans had suddenly changed.
Or if she too was bothered by what they found in G-Y0.
Now is a good time to ask. Frost thought, leaning against a marble balcony as she devoured the city with a tender gaze.
“It’s only been a few hours huh? But it felt like we’ve spent way longer than that.” She began, her voice trailing off. “What made you change your mind?”
“Oh, nothing too important. Did you like it?”
“I was expecting something else to happen tonight. But, I loved it. Got to find out that I’m bad at fishing. I bet if you gave me a real rod, and real fish then I’d be fine.”
“Isn’t fishing all about patience? It’s a game of chance. If a fish doesn’t bite, then is it really your fault?”
“Good question.” Frost chuckled. “That whole waiting for something to catch on… I’m not a big fan of it. Sure, it’s fun. But it’s so unpredictable. All that anticipation, and you can’t even see past the water’s surface. If you try, you end up looking at a distorted version of yourself.”
She complained, leaving Jury in stunned silence. Frost leaned further over the balcony, her hands reaching down to gently pat against a night-blooming flower.
“That cup game too. After some time, you can’t really predict where the coin is. I can’t believe I flopped on that game. But then again, I purposely kept my eyes off it. And I didn’t rely on my precognition.”
Her complaint was still met with Jury’s silence. Somehow, it only invited Frost to keep unraveling her thoughts to the air.
“I kept blowing too hard. The feathers went flying along with the sand, no matter how little I blew. I’m surprised you could do it. Gotta be a trick to it, huh?” She laughed before finally complaining about the last game.
“Poker. I think that’s the game we played? A table of bluffers, but it didn’t matter what face I made. Some people just go through. Others wear what they want. Haaaah. Maybe I’ve gotten too old to be playing games.”
Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, Jury joined Frost over the balcony. With a serene voice near indistinguishable from the breeze, she said:
“The anticipation of an unclear future.”
“Hmm?”
“I brought you here today hoping we could find new ways to experience our bodies. I won’t lie to you Frost, I’m not an Angel with pure thoughts. But I thought about what happened in the Ghost Site. There’s always a next time.”
“Did the Humatazoa and the whole mechanical womb turn you off too?”
“I’m roaring to go. But you’re not. Because I know you have thoughts suppressed up here.” Jury pressed her head against Frost’s. “They said you’re not from Earth. I remember, after Divas Pass, how you talked about this world being our home. But you still longed for Earth. I thought you’d say something sooner. Why didn’t you?”
She was waiting, huh.
“I was gonna talk about… stuff here. That was the plan. But duty came first. We had to get out of a collapsing Site.” Frost drew circles into her arm, a bit embarrassed that Jury saw right through her.
But she was happy that Jury thought about her. She always did, and she was always the first to notice when something was wrong. As usual…
“’Anticipation of an unclear future’. Mind telling me what you mean?” Frost laughed.
Jury wore a somber look as she gazed out at the city. It caused Frost’s smile to fade as she shared the same sight.
“The fish game. We cast lines from the start. I took the bait. Neither of us knew what the future would hold, even though ripples distorted the water’s surface. Every cry, every shout – and my warnings alluded to a monster. I thought you’d die. You thought… no, you never thought I was a monster. But people did past that water’s surface.”
Jury wasn’t one to speak philosophically, or with deep metaphors aside from the ‘Black Forest’. Hearing her speak like this, as her ticking heart played like a metronome, brought Frost to ease.
“It was an unclear future steeped in anticipation. Things look distorted because of a lot of noise. The ripples. Your identity from Earth, and Elysia for me. What people think. Even what we believe ourselves to be. But, past that surface, there’s a hidden truth. It’s a game of patience. No amount of foresight can tell what the future holds, or if that reflection is real or not.”
Her words hung heavy in Frost’s heart. Slowly, she turned to face Jury.
She couldn’t tell if the cramp she felt on her face was because of her smile or the lack thereof.
“Hah. Is there something else you know about me? You always somehow know. Somehow can feel like something’s wrong. Why don’t tell me, what’s wrong with me right now?”
“No. I can’t. Not until you tell me yourself.”
“I guess that part is true. Yeah. I’m not sure what the future holds, given what I’ve found out. But it’s less about my identity from Earth, and more about what I am. You’re right about the ripples. The noise. All these distortions… Tch. At least this ticking calms me down.”
“Mine, right?”
Frost exhaled with a small laugh.
“Of course it’s yours.”
Jury didn’t take Frost to play random games, though it seemed like it.
“The answer within an unpredictable future.” The cup game was what Jury referenced. “All future possibilities exist at once. We’ve gone through the ropes before, haven’t we? You’ve gone through two Corruptions already. I don’t want to see you go through a third. I’m telling you this because… I think part of this journey we’ve had has a lot of bad ends. We’ve faced them all. But we’ve learned from it and know how to navigate away from them.”
“… eventually, we’ll find the cup that holds the answer huh? That’s what it means? I guess… experimentation works like that. But for me… it’s been Corruption. Funny to think that even after my two Corruptions, I haven’t reached a Realization, gained a Corrupted Persona or an Ego of my own.”
It made Frost’s eyes sting.
And she hadn’t even confessed to Jury what the root of her suffering right now was.
“The restraint to find the right way forward. You’ve been getting violent. More than I’ve ever seen. But I know you can’t help it. What happened to the chameleons isn’t something you can control.”
“I know I’ve been getting violent. It’s a response to the fucked-up things we’ve seen. You’ve also been getting frisky too.”
And finally, Jury mentioned the card game as she turned to Frost with moist eyes.
“The heart beyond the façade. I wanted to call it a plan, but I think heart fits better. Especially for you.”
“… Haha… Ahaha…” Frost giggled, but her voice became choked up. “… Facades aren’t indicative of what’s going on behind the scenes, huh. Yeah. Hasn’t that always been the case? With everyone we know? But it’s never helped anyone, outside of one upping another, or trying to survive. Showing those hands, when they’re weak, just opens you up to a cruel death. It’s no wonder everyone’s so guarded...”
Frost’s breath hitched. Her hair overcast her face. Her shoulders shook. Suddenly, the Amalgam looked so much smaller than she really was. Despite this, Frost clawed at her chest through the gaps of the balcony, as though hoping to tear something out.
“Jury. I’m afraid of myself.” Her voice cracked. “Remember when I erased the memories of the people at the clinic? I still remember the taste of their memories. A part of me that I’ve forgotten since the Black Forest came out. Hunger. Infinite hunger. Once that shadow gripped me, I looked at the Fragment differently. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know if I would’ve resisted my instinct. I’ve never felt anything like it before. This thing inside of me… I hate it. I don’t want it to be a part of me. I didn’t care when I became a girl. I learned to live with it. Embrace it. But this?”
“You’re not craving it now.” Jury clasped her face and brought it close. “That’s what matters.”
“Then when am I going to crave it again?” Frost snapped. “And you don’t know that! One of these days, I’ll have to take someone’s memories! And I’ll do it again! And again! And… again. What if it becomes an addiction? What if I can’t stop? What if no one can reason with me!?”
“You have an ensemble to stop you.” Jury tightened her grip as Frost thrashed lightly.
“But what if you can’t!?” She howled.
Then, Jury locked her lips with Frost’s.
And just like that, it defused her. A faint strand of saliva tethered their lips as Frost’s anger faded. Replacing it was an irrevocable wave of sadness.
“Did that ever stop you from trying to save a Corrupted!?”
“… Never. I’m just scared. Memories aren’t something I can heal. When I take a bite from someone, a piece of their soul comes with it. Where I walk, animals play dead. I’m human. I still believe I am, but…”
In the end, Frost had to ask a question. It wasn’t dedicated to Jury. Nor to herself. She simply asked the world:
“What am I? I’m Frost as a person. But what’s beneath it? I eat but never get full. I don’t defecate. I don’t sweat. I don’t need to sleep anymore. I’m apparently an amalgamation of countless things that aren’t even me. I lived through lives I don’t recall. But still… I’m human.”
The hunger for memories was the final push that tipped Frost over the edge. Her fear boiled down to herself. The first time she came to acknowledge it was when she faced Terrent.
She didn’t want to imagine what it looked like now, with the addition of her ability to devour memories.
“I want to stay human. If I’m not, then I want to be human.”
It was her one sincere wish.
“You already are. I promise you. I believe in you. You wouldn’t eat anyone’s memories on a whim, or just because hunger took hold of you.” Jury assured.
Frost sobbed into her chest. Her arms remained still by her side as Jury held her close.
“… Fuck this hunger. I thought I got over it. But it’s only come back worse… Is this what it means to take the powers from the Rivers? Just Lethe has already changed me.”
“The fact that you’re worried makes you human. Only monsters can embrace it.”
“I want to believe that too. Ugh… I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Ironic. Frost was a perpetuator of suffering for the other side.
But she vehemently believed that stopping the cycle of violence against the Impuritas would only make things worse.
Besides, unlike her enemies, she saved people.
The Homunculi, who could do nothing more than live and breathe, were still worth saving in her eyes.
How was she a monster? She didn’t value them on what they could provide to the Nexus.
All Frost believed was that they deserved to exist, free of suffering and allowed them to experience the world.
Remembering this calmed her down.
“I’m a mess. Sorry Jury. I’m so sorry… that you have to see me like this.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m here to listen. I’m happy you didn’t leave it till it became worse.”
“You won’t bite me~ You’re too kind for that.”
She brought her hand to Frost’s mouth and brushed it against her clenched teeth. A panicked Frost tried to pull away, but Jury did not allow her to. She thrashed lightly like a caged animal, only to finally surrender and let herself hang in Jury’s arms, whimpering.
“… I’m also afraid of what I might be. My tail is the key to reaching Elysia and opening the Advent of Attachment. But when I think about being next to you, then I don’t care what I am~”
“Maybe it was just that easy… all along, huh?” Frost panted.
“Not always. But neither of us are alone. Feels like we’ve had a talk like this before~ But you were always afraid of the future. Of us. But never yourself.”
“Because I believed that I’d be fine… because of what I am. I keep telling myself I’m human. I believe in it. Wholeheartedly. It’s just that it’s so easy to say otherwise. It’s even easier to see how I’m not, if I end up doing something stupid with my powers.”
Again, the deepest parts of Frost spoke when she was embraced by Jury. There was no bravado of the Head, the ironclad heart of the Black Dove, the mercy of a Healer, or the wrath of the Progenitor.
“Thank you. I love you Jury. I’m sorry I ruined our night.”
“Like I said, there’s always a next time~”
“… Yeah. There is. Always… Always…”
*
It took Frost three hours to stop crying. Another two hours were spent calming down. By dawn, Frost managed to drift off with sore eyes.
A rare sight, but not uncommon following moments like this.
Jury brought her back to the Leviathan, her body woven in a cocoon made from a silk-making enzyme she had stolen from eating a golden orb spider’s nest (accidentally, due to yawning).
“Ah, does she sleep?” Acedia was baffled to find that Frost needed sleep in the first place. “Does she dream good dreams?”
Given by the look of glee on Frost’s face as Cer placed a sleeping Joy beside her–
“She does now.” Jury assured. “I’ll have to make my bookings another day~”
“Oh? Then I don’t have to expect another sibling?” Acedia wondered.
“Might still be a little too early for that~” She patted Acedia’s head. “H10 now?”
“H10, the 6th Branch.” Acedia looked out of her window, spotting a faint blue glow beyond the pink horizon. “Then, we travel full speed ahead to the City of Strings.”
