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999. Transactional Avarice
🕑 Added 2025-05-10 08:30:19 +0000 UTCRhyme stood no chance against a Beholder.
That much was certain from the very start.
Had she known that a true Beholder would be arriving to challenge her claim over the Genesis Stone, then she would not have agreed to join Alisa and Lammy’s assault on Site G-Y0.
Jury was nothing like the Fallen Beholders who took refuge under the banner of the Broken Thorns. Their only similarity would be how terribly weak they were compared to Beholders of the Nexus.
She was also under the impression that Jury was like the Beholders of the Nexus; complicit and willfully blind to the suffering of the masses.
So long as the results outweighed the sacrifice, then what did it matter? Beholders operated on a simple yet effective philosophy. Impuritas were no different when put side to side.
However, there had been news of the Ateliers of the Nexus undergoing rapid changes over the last few months since the Amalgam took over.
No heart could change on a dime.
In saying this, Rhyme knew how fickle the heart was.
Name the right price and just about any heart could be bought.
The price for the Beholders was efficiency in the name of Nex. Tens could die, thousands malnourished, and millions displaced – and it would not turn the head of a Beholder.
Neither would it be for an Impuritas like Rhyme herself. If anything, she could only think about how much of a waste it was to watch countless die like they lacked value. All lives had value. Human-esque lives, for that matter.
Value came from organs.
Things that made her happy.
Vanity that hid her own ugliness.
To Rhyme, value was not something that could be put on an item. Nor was it died to supply and demand, scarcity, or difficulty in attaining an item.
Value was inherent. Visceral.
It must be tied to the living.
And so long as it was tied to life, then it did not matter where this life came from. It could be produced en masse.
Propagated as life did, because life was valuable.
But in truth…
*
“It is what they have that is valuable to us. Their lives… are only proven by the components it possesses. It is no different from the pentacles. The more valuable a symbol is, the stronger the pentacle becomes.”
Rhyme proclaimed moments before Jury came lunging towards her.
Her undying belief was manifested by the Genesis Stone as a magical waterpark.
Those who perished only perished because they were not strong enough. Once a Homunculi died, their organs were taken, and their bodies were reeled from the lake with chains.
They would become Etched Coins later.
“What can a fledgling Beholder like you do to a being blessed by a Seed, the holy light of the Brightest Star, and now – a Genesis Stone!?”
The Beholder launched herself forward and suddenly collided with a near indestructible barrier.
“A Beholder as weak as yourself cannot–!”
A cracked formed where Jury’s Qliphoth Corroded hand touched the barrier.
“Oh… Oh shit.”
Rhyme had several layers of redundancy in place to protect herself even against a true Beholder. One major defense was the Qliphoth Barrier. It wasn’t one of the weaker ones that were held by lesser members of the Broken Thorn.
Rather, it was comparable to what Ring Master Phalange and the Brightest Star Iscario possessed. She had no way to confirm this, as their words were law. But for it to shatter upon impact either meant she had been lied to or…
“GRAB THE HOMUNCULI! I’M TAKING THIS ONE DOWN MYSELF!”
… Rhyme was up against a being who wielded the darkness like a blade. Her dark claws shattered through multiple erected pentagrams, and Jury’s blazing speed made it impossible for Rhyme to deploy counterattacks using her pentacles.
“How very much noble of you to save what barely resembles life! Let them have their fun! Don’t you know that the heart races with joy when thrown into the deep end!?”
Jury’s claws impaled Rhyme’s body.
“THEIR LIVES ARE NOT YOURS TO PLAY WITH!”
She smashed through the ribs defending the Genesis Stone with terrifying ease. The impact alone shredded Rhyme’s body to ribbons. They fluttered away like scattering moths. Then, they converged into one point and recreated her body.
“That is to imply that I am throwing their lives away! As a Beholder, you also believe that sacrifice benefits the Atelier!”
She was able to regenerate because she was tied to Ringmaster Phalange. So long as this tether existed, then – like Underbosses of Carpalis – she could not die. Surprisingly, she did not have organs or any semblance of the living beyond her appearance.
Being reminded that she lacked what the mass-produced Homunculi possessed caused her to scream, only for her to then wail in shock as Jury’s claws found their mark again. Though she could not feel pain, there was panic in the way she struggled.
“Combine the value. Is that not what you also believe in? As a Beholder!?”
“You’re mistaken. Did no one tell you about the War in Grandis?”
“You led your Moons to a glorious march to death! How can we not know of your exploits–!?”
Jury’s tail wrapped around the pentacle-like head of the woman, and she crushed it. Not one, or twice, but hundreds of times in a mere second. The rate at which Rhyme’s head could regenerate was instantaneous.
This had nothing to do with her regenerative capabilities, but rather – her resonance with the Genesis Stone. And despite her resonance, the power it granted her, and the world in which she commanded…
“MY MOONS WERE NEVER MEAN TO DIE IN THAT WAR YOU STARTED!”
The light of the Genesis Stone flickered. For a moment, Rhyme sensed that she had lost connection with it.
She was aware of how Genesis Stones worked. It chose who was the most compatible by the basis of their ambition. Emotional turbulence was also a contributing factor.
The higher it was, the likelier the Genesis Stone would react.
But there was another ill-known consideration. Rhyme only knew this because of her proximity to the Brightest Star.
The Soul Quality.
Since she had no soul, and Beholder Jury’s Soul Quality was Incandescent, Rhyme would lose control of the Genesis Stone at any moment.
Thus, her only option now was to escape.
But how?
Where could she even go?
Jury never let her move for more than a second without being shredded apart. Nor did she have an Etched Coin since she had travelled using Lammy’s portals.
Therefore…
“Bah… Bahahaha! Should you really be focusing on me? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been holding off! If the lives of Homunculi are that valuable to you–!”
Eighty pentacles formed like a sweeping cloud above the pools. Countless chains were being rerouted into a single portal closest to the Genesis Stone. The tips of the ribs joined at one spot, amplifying the power of the chains as they then began to descend from the many portals.
“–Then you are wasting your time, Beholder! Haven’t you considered that your mercy is a weakness? Moon I would understand crying about honk honk. Homunculi are only valuable in pieces~!”
Jury didn’t bat an eye, and Rhyme smirked as though tooting an invisible horn would cause something to change in Jury.
Why not? Rhyme thought. She had expected Jury to turn her tail and run since she loved the Homunculi and the masses so much. How they adored them whole rather than in pieces, like living Shells had more value walking on two legs and being strewn apart.
Jury and the Amalgam were the same.
The mere act of extracting value was able to cast more pain than a blade striking their neck ever could.
So why did Jury seem fine with this? She did not even flinch.
Rhyme shuddered.
*
It shouldn’t have been surprising to Rhyme.
Jury had people to defend the Homunculi after all.
But Rhyme had never quite met a person who defied expectations.
Everything was transactional. From the love of one’s parents, to the food that one ate, to the kindness one showed to the elderly who could barely carry their goods across town.
Love was the expectation of being loved back. Consumption was the expectation of gaining nutrients. Showing kindness was the expectation of being owed a favor or to boost one’s public standing.
Nothing ever went one way.
Everything could be paid for with an equivalent exchange.
Rhyme used to be beautiful. A singer who toured the lands of Emvita as a magical diva during the heyday of the Green Composer. She was not raised by abusive parents or had a tragic backstory that caused her personality to curdle into what it became today.
No. She was loved. Gifted in music. Had beauty. Connections. Money.
But it was never enough for Rhyme, because she was missing one thing in her life.
Magic.
She was raised by parents who gifted in magic. Her sisters and brothers had the same gift passed down to them. By the age of eight her siblings could already conjure water from morning dew and set fires at the snap of a finger.
But she did not have this.
Rhyme accumulated accolades to make up for what she lacked. Money purchased power, happiness, love. But it was superficial. True happiness couldn’t come until Rhyme had everything she lacked.
She started off by stuffing her mouth with magical grass. Ingesting grains of magical dust. Infusing her everyday items with elemental stones. Then, through sheer purchasing power, hired her siblings to cross the sea northeast of Emvita and retrieve a Fairy.
She falsely saved the caged fairy. Rhyme was proclaimed as its savior. But being merely close to the fairy did not grant her magic as she thought. The months of happiness shared with fairy slowly faded, as did the meals for the fairy.
Before long, the fairy was left abandoned in its cage until one day, Rhyme met with a woman who called herself the Ringmaster.
She called me hideous. I questioned her. Contested. I had never been so insulted. But she pointed to my chest and cut me open. I had never seen anything so red before. My entrails… were truly disgusting. I did not realize that the two lumps on my chest were simply that, yet the world fawned over them whilst clothed.
The fairy broke free from the cage, offering to save her.
But Rhyme, seeing the beauty of the fairy, clasped it with a pair of hopeful hands…
… and then stuffed it into her body. It was crushed between her liver and lungs. Its last words fell on empty ears. What mattered was that it had magic and she did not. In order to become beautiful… perfect, she needed to go beyond consumption and integration.
She had to take. The transactional value of the fairy was it magic. The love she gave it over the course of months had finally paid off. It saved her.
But Rhyme wasn’t content with this.
Even when Rhyme’s body had taken a piece of her siblings, her parents, distant relatives…
The mere transactional act of taking their inherent value brought boundless joy to her.
She had lost her beauty. Her singing voice. Her riches and fame.
True inner, inherent beauty blossomed.
And then, she was granted a Seed to complete her transformation.
*
Rhyme lived by the law of the coin. She thrived as a manipulator, and believed that everything was transactional.
Which was why she despised Jury and the Amalgam, who sought to save those without seeking anything in return.
No. They likely did seek something out of them.
Nothing was free.
“What will become of them, Beholder~? Will they be churned for the Amalgam? Used as material? Help you generate Nex? Will Oboros Infintias take them as Repenters!? What is your expectation of them!?”
Rhyme screeched like a banshee. If she had a face, then it would be contorting at the sight of the Orange Disruptor, a Blood Angel and strange black-haired brat destroying her pentacles.
“Nothing. I don’t get why it’s a problem for you. I can understand no believing they’re worth keeping alive because they’re not born conventionally. But Frost and I couldn’t care less about where people come from. If they’re Shells or what they are. It’s not up to us to decide their value! But it should be our responsibility to help them figure that out!”
Jury’s words rocked her world.
The waterpark-like Corrupted Zone wavered.
Pentacles began exploding as her state of mind waned. A major risk of resonating with a Genesis Stone was that controlling it was dependent on the stability of one’s state of mind.
Lose yourself for even a second, and the runaway effects could cascade into a collapse of the psyche, and the world would reflect the disturbed mind of the wielder. Giant, floating coins began to bleed, turning the waters red.
“Up to them… to decide? Beings who do not understand their own value… who come from nothing, should deice it? Preposterous. I’ve never heard of such lunacy!”
“Then who decides your value!?”
“It would be…!”
Rhyme couldn’t finish.
She subconsciously prevented herself from seeing this truth.
“It’s only convenient for you when you turn a blind eye to your hypocrisy! The story of the Blood Festival! Hope in ignorance! Hope in the pain of everyone but you! Happiness from someone else’s despair!”
The sheer number of Monsoon-level Corrupted that infested the waters meant that only the Color could initiate a rescue on the Homunculi. However, the waters made it far too treacherous for even her to tread.
But something began syphoning everything beneath the waters. A dangerous whirlpool sucked in the Corrupted, the Homunculi, the chains and coins. The source was a crimson portal.
It’s here! I can… I CAN ESCAPE!
“Killing you won’t be enough! It’ll never be enough!”
“Punishment does not come easily, bahahahaha! Punishment is reserved for those who believe they are wrong!”
The world began to wobble. The portal did not require one to enter to be transported away. Given enough time, and it will allow those in the near vicinity to be transported. This included items, such as the Genesis Stone.
Just a bit more! I will take this as a victory! Live with that hatred, Beholder Jury! Live with that smoldering wrath!
The ground frayed away, like strips of reality were being peeled.
“What you need isn’t punishment! Contrition awaits you! I promise it! I will make you feel what it’s like to have no value!”
Jury vowed as she bared her fangs. Contempt filled her eyes.
It was the type of murderous wrath that was incompatible with a person who was supposed to be as compassionate as her.
And for that reason, Rhyme believed her.
If she was caught by Jury or the Amalgam, then even she – a being who had lost all sensation – would be subjected to fate worse than a thousand deaths.
The scenery changed, and Jury was nowhere to be found.
Rhyme had escaped, and she was freefalling from the sky of the Great Unknown.
“F-Freedom at last! I survived an encounter with a Beholder! But… No. She was trying to kill me. I’m certain. I think. No matter. I am alive… And I see the portal! I see dearest Kratt! And –!”
“NO YOU DON’T!”
A voice shouted from behind.
Rhyme turned and her nonexistent blood ran like ice.
“Why were they transported at my location as well!?”
“[RETROCAUSALITY]!”
The colossal pale weapon pointed at a substantially damaged Kratt. It was burning. Rhyme could only speculate on what sort of attack had caused it to lose nearly all of its HP.
That was until she saw a Demi-Human wolf fling out of its mouth.
“Sabotaged from the inside…? Within a gravity well!?”
The weapon fired at Kratt, and it decimated him as the beam of light ran lengthwise across his body. What remained was a hollow mechanical tube – an unceremonious death of a machine.
But Kratt, though it lacked a soul, did not have just one body.
However… this was still a significant blow.
Rhyme flapped her hands, as though it would bring her closer to the crimson portal where Lammy stood, waiting for her to escape.
“I’m… coming!”
However, she was suddenly repelled back by an invisible force.
Seconds later, a thunderous boom came from the weapon held in the Amalgam’s hands.
“I was shot…? From this distance, at this speed–!?”
A tail wrapped around her waist as sharp claws pierced her back.
“You’re mine.” Jury sneered, and the girl on her back nodded, shouting: “Malga!”
“Nonononono! This isn’t how it works, Beholder! You’re supposed to let me leave, so that we can fight later! Our rematch will be legendary! We will definitely see each other again–!”
Of all the Repenters, Icara managed to survive. The icy-blue eyes of the woman stared past Horus’ shoulder with an annoyed expression.
She reused her Corrupted Persona – Icarus Fall – and it miraculously prevented Rhyme from speaking. This was because the pentacle that represented Rhyme’s head was full of redundant inscriptions.
They held symbols what were valuable in other magical systems by themselves, but when combined created an incoherent mess.
Useless and redundant.
“There will never be a next time! The only reason I kept you alive is because killing you won’t ever kill you off! That’s why it won’t be me who’ll be dealing with you. That’s Frost’s job.”
Icara wore a surprised expression when Frost’s name was mentioned.
Then, she noticed Frost’s unique apparel and her eyes widened further.
“Be glad it’s you.” Horus murmured. “I wouldn’t risk letting our low-clearance Repenters suspect a thing.”
Icara nodded once.
