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975. White Midnight
🕑 Added 2025-04-11 09:23:51 +0000 UTCThe Site Core loomed ahead. The sole star that had dominated the night had transformed into what appeared to be an eye. A dark spherical shell contained what was likely a black hole. One side was left open to reveal the black hole itself, surrounded by a golden accretion disk that resembled an iris.
Only a fool would not believe it was an eye gazing back at them, watching their every move.
Frost referred to the notebook.
“Is this the ‘Eye of Elysia’?”
“I believe it is. But it is not the same eye you are thinking of. The Eye of Elysia manifests once you reach the subterranean oceans far beyond the desert. Follow it long enough, and you’ll end a thousand meters deeper, and at the foot of a Layer by the same name.”
The Eye of Elysia was the name of the Ninth Layer; the deepest point explored excluding the Derma Layer.
Everything beyond it was called Deep Time.
Visions of the Eye of Elysia were commonplace within the Eight Layer. But these were not the Site Cores.
The Eye of Elysia was something else entirely. The Layer itself? An entity?
Neither her nor Dark Memoria knew. Aberrations of Elysia outside of the Horsemen did not interact with the Site Cores to begin with. Dark Memoria savored its presence, and she steadied her speed in hopes of a Horseman appearing.
But there was nothing.
Frost also expected a Horseman to greet them.
Or to hear anything besides the faint whirls of the Site Core and the ticking of a clock echoing in its direction.
The silence tempted Frost to scream.
The unusual urge came from how desolate the world felt.
How desperately her legs took her towards the Site Core.
“Hm. Wait. I see something.”
She noticed the thin outline of a dark magical circle. Golden inscriptions were written along it, and it followed what appeared to be a group wearing white metal armor and a black coif. Their faces were covered with a white mask, and hoisted against their shoulders were lances containing yellow, frayed rings. It looked like chains that were wrapped around their weapons.
“Those would be…?”
“White Midnight.” Dark Memoria answered. “Humans, but there is a peculiar figure among them. Vase shaped. A container. An Impuritas.”
“Never seen an Impuritas shaped like a vase before.” Frost murmured.
The marching soldiers stopped. They had noticed Frost’s presence. They were still more than several kilometers away, yet they were staring at her like she was standing in front of them.
Is my presence that strong? Animals can’t detect me from that far away unless I intentionally make my presence known. Is it any coincidence that we haven’t come across any animals at all recently? Should’ve been my first clue.
< As Dark Memoria has put it, it has manifested as a light in this Layer >
< Are they either looking at you or are they looking at what they believe is you >
Frost couldn’t see their eyes, so it was impossible to tell.
But if she had to answer, then it would be the latter.
*
Thirty-Six White Midnight Syndicate members marched through the dunes in heavy armor. Despite this, their feet skimmed across the sands as their chest plates bobbed with a weightless motion.
They moved in a structured formation, and caried their weapons as though intending to siege the walls of a city. The way their weapons glowed were like torches. A distant onlooker would have easily mistaken them as torches or fire-enchanted tools, which were commonly used to raze a settlement shortly after plundering.
The practice had recently become commonplace in the isolated regions of the Nex Megalopolis. There were two reasons for this – the first was the belief that the Nex Megalopolis was wrongfully spared on the eve of the Black Nexus.
These cultists sought to levy broken individuals who had lost their lives, income, families – even parts of themselves – against the Head. Although, many individuals served as the proxies of foreign nations.
The second, however, followed the practices of White Midnight alongside other Syndicates; the Corpus Feast and The Hammer of Witches.
They had caught on that the Head had a method of tracking their deeds and correctly identifying them despite lacking Eyes.
Normally, this was impossible.
At first, they had believed there were Scrying Crystals that watched all corners of the Nex Megalopolis but was undermined by the sheer lack of manpower the Nexus itself had to maintain eyes on every crystal.
Atelier Technology was the only answer. And with the knowledge of Time Reverberation’s recent existence, it was natural to assume that they were responsible for this. Then came the confirmation from the appearance of the Minu Auditors who arrived at the site of tragedies.
“Chief. There is a Luminaire. Could it be the work of the Maestros? Should we worry that the Head will see this?”
A White Midnight Greatmage – a level 80 – 100 individual – spoke as all eyes turned to the direction of the golden light.
“Preposterous. The Maestros have no right to visit this holy site. No Auditor of the Head with their recursive timepieces will be able to investigate. There are less than twelve hours left. Let the light shine.”
Another Greatmage had spoken with a magically altered voice. The masks ensured that not even White Midnight knew the faces of their own, especially those in the higher ranks.
Accompanying them were two individuals adorning a black mantle and a witch hat. These were Archmage-levelled Witches (level 100 – 110) who held a significant position within White Midnight’s ranks.
“Follow not the false star that appears when the journey is nearing the end, less it pulls you astray. It is a test from Abraxas. Of light and dark. Remember the chant well. ‘Midnight precedes sunrise.’”
“As Sister Ori has stated – Brothers. Follow the dark star. Beyond it lies the true light.”
This was Sister Laxym.
White Midnight had a rather unique hierarchy. As Witches could only be women, they were the only ones who could claim a spot in the inner circles of White Midnight, even if a man or otherwise were equivalently skilled.
Magic in Elysia had a stronger affinity for women. This could be seen in Moons and the prevalence of women Seers of Evelyn. In contrast, men were tailored to physical skills and far more devoted tasks, as seen in the Stars of the Nexus and the Children of Adam.
As such, men who excelled in strength, wisdom, power or influence were taken under the wing of a Sister Witch, and it was not uncommon for them to become part of their harem. And they were particularly useful…
“Ah. H-05. Does that light bother you?”
“SB-05. Do you weep? No? Oh, it’s H-06. Are you crying because your brother is worried?”
The Witches began speaking to their prosthetic arms.
A sloshing sound could be heard as they brought their metal arms to their faces. A clear, transparent tube saw a flurry of blood, fragments of bones, and even a disembodied eye pass.
They belonged to their late… no, reconstituted husbands. Those who lived in iron bodies as blood to continue serving them even after death. Every rattle, every bone fragment that grinded against the pipework, and every slosh was them speaking to their Witch.
“Grandmaster Halva. What shall we do? Our summons to the Site Core shan’t be interrupted. But it is unsettling our loved ones. We’ve lost enough Brothers against the Repenters’ counterattack. The rest had to reassign their Soul.”
Amongst their ranks were those who did not have a single ounce of flesh exposed. They moved like their bodies were made of jelly. And one wouldn’t be wrong. Inside of that bodysuit were the liquified remains of a fallen Brother, who was made to serve as nothing more than living armor.
“The Machines would have stopped them.”
The half empty yet half full voice of a being spoke.
“The Sixth Level (Sixth) was designed (created) by our mechanical allies (Righteous) to halt the advancements of Oboros Infinitas (Traitors)… How sly of the Golden Dawn (Heretics) to send the agents of Demons (Abandoned Ones) on our trail (Holy Mission). The transfer of thirty-eight thousand homunculi (Oh such bright light) to the Gears (Rightful interpreters of the blue light) was worthwhile after all (After all). It would have been advantageous (A birthright) to use them as an offering (Strengthen the vessel).”
Two voices from a sole figure that walked in the center of the march. Their head was a glass vase filled with a blue liquid, both half full and half empty. Their body glowed with sacred inscriptions as prosthetic brains dangled from underneath her mantle.
They pulsed traitorously, attempting to escape the nails that hammered it into place. Then, a long nail was brought to prod it into submission. Long nerves shivered before dangling flatly. From a distance, it could be mistaken for hair.
“It is the least we (we) can do for reaching perfection (Not yet). A blend of light and darkness (balance) … As Abraxas intended (Oh Great One).”
She held out her arms in reverence.
“My siblings (Loves). Eliminate the heretical star (The false light). They intend to taint (Defame) the presence of the Goddesses (Gods) who have summoned us (Oh pleasant ticking).”
It quickly swung by her grotesque sides as she halted the march. Then, her arms flexed. Thick veins came to the surface of her metal arms. They were Mana Channels. Then, she pointed in the direction of the star – a blinding light forming at her fingertips.
“[Maximum Inferno – Higher Detonation].”
