The heretics are just people–paindne, specifically–who kept using pre-system magic. It feels like that should be a huge revelation, but honestly, it tracks way too well to be that surprising. Instead, the question that bubbles to the tip of my tongue is why there were heretics in the wave one paindne. Or… well… maybe there actually weren't. I don't know how the timeline plays out.
Guess I have no reason not to ask. "Were you wave one or wave two?"
"Wave one. Something that I'm very much not proud of." The construct sighs. "Whether you believe it or not, the system made… compelling arguments to leave the rest of our people. Some of us were cowards, yes, but some of us thought we were enlightened. Seeing a path forward where there hadn't been any before."
Pearl snorts derisively. "The system fooled you."
The construct shakes her head. "The system gave us exactly what we wanted. Freedoms that our leaders forbid. Knowledge beyond what we'd ever seen. Power for everyone, not just those blessed to be born into the right… breed."
She spits the word 'breed' as if the very sounds were poisonous. I frown in thought, and… well… yeah. Painted danes still have breeds. Paindne, thorough, just have different colouration based on their ancestry. And size, I guess.
"Not all of you were magical?" I ask.
"Magical? No, no; we were all magical. Just in a way that we couldn't change or control at all. I was a Deepglow Tracker. All I could do was mark something with my spittle and sense a trail that the marked thing had followed." The construct licks a finger for emphasis and trails blood red liquid down the glass. "The system promised magic for everyone. And when I got my paindne body, the first thing I did was attempt to use magic the way the shellraisers did–the way some of the other species did."
"And it worked." Pearl states grimly.
The construct blinks in surprise. "Why… yes, actually. I could use magic that wasn't like anything I'd ever done before. And I hadn't even lost my tracking ability. For a few weeks, I was ecstatic. I trained others to use magic the same way I had. And then… the system pushed the next step of the uplifting program on us. A complete rewriting of our bodies to accept its form of magic. I refused, of course. Then I was taken to a lab, sedated, and used as a living host for far too many construct minds."
I recoil in horror. "Uh."
"Yes, living host. You didn't hear wrong." The construct says without a hint of bitterness. "I watched everything happen. Everyone that tried to keep the old magic alive was treated like me, just with different experiments. Eventually my usefulness ran out, so I was drowned in construct liquid and melted down in liquid metal in an attempt to make a new kind of construct."
Pearl grimaces as she looks the construct up and down. "It looks like it succeeded."
The construct shrugs. "Partially, maybe. I can't say why, but I was discarded and trapped here until the incident. When the system rebuilt this place, somehow my prison was rebuilt as well. including all the material that I was so sure had been lost. Oh, you can keep all that, by the way. I've concentrated so much in this body that it might be impossible to run out."
I close my eyes and look down to try and process this. The fact that the heretics were nothing but people using the old magic doesn't surprise me. However, the fact that the system actively gave–and then removed–the paindne's ability to use it really bothers me. Because I can see some people–downtrodden or unlucky or anything of the like–joining the system even though they know it's wrong for a chance at power.
Hell, there's been more than enough of that on Earth. The preservation and HuSt must be full of those kinds of people. But to give that hope only to take it away so swiftly… I'm surprised that more first-wave paindne didn't oppose the system. Unless… unless those casualty numbers I heard a while ago weren't just from a dangerous operation.
That could've been the system's way of weeding out any wave-ones that might've gone against it. Shit, the more I consider it, the more it just seems like the truth. But… it raises one massive question. What happened between the first and second wave that really stopped the system from flat out getting rid of disobedients?
I crack my knuckles and start to pace. "Construct. If the system just experimented on or killed those it didn't need… why are the wave-twos still here?"
"Why?" The construct smiles bitterly. "The answer is two-fold. Once the wave-twos were taken and uplifted, the system had perfected the process so there wasn't a need for an interim step that left them a chance to use the old magic. And, maybe more important… there was no longer a war to fight."
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…Oh. That makes horrible sense. It didn't bother with anything else because it already won. All the paindne were given stats and classes, they lived in the city, and… well… time eventually won. Now the shellraisers are a myth and the paindne all use the system without hesitation. Even Jumble.
I take a deep breath and nod knowingly. "When you've won the war, nothing else matters."
"Exactly." The construct confirms. "Even more so, maybe, because it didn't just win; it eliminated the old magic from paindne culture entirely. If the wave twos hated the system, so what? It got exactly what it wanted. Maybe there were a handful of new heretics from the wave-twos, but most of us were from the first wave."
That might complicate things. Or maybe it won't. I honestly have no damn idea if the heretics are important to this quest beyond the fact that we're collecting their body parts. Right now, though, I have to refocus. This construct is too dangerous to bring back with us as she is right now, but if I have to dispose of all the dangerous material to clear the subquest, then that's going to include her as well. She's made of the stuff, after all.
I swipe over to the quest description to refamiliarize myself with a lost memory.
The material is contaminated.
With the blossoming of waste comes ruin.
Until this place is clean, there is no escape.
That's it? Unless I'm missing something, that doesn't mention 'disposal' anywhere. Just that we have to get this place clean. I can't imagine that I didn't say anything about this the first time around, either, so why are they talking like this now? Did we make some progress that I can't remember?
I tap my card with a fingernail. "Says here we just have to clean this place up. Nothing to do with disposing of it."
The look Pearl shoots me says she doesn't believe me. She leans over my shoulder to get a better look at my card, frowns as she reads, then squishes her face even further in confusion.
"Something tells me this isn't what it originally said."
She vigorously shakes her head. "Not at all. The first two sentences are the same, yeah, but the third one said 'dispose of the tainted material and you may continue'. It was really clear what we had to do."
"Yes, it was." The construct chimes in. "So… well… is it possible for me to take a quick peek? You're getting my hopes up a little too high for them to just come crashing down later."
I share a look with Pearl. She shrugs noncommittally, which I decide to take as a yes. I walk up to the construct's prison, turn my card around, and press it against the glass. Her nose squishes against the glass as she presses herself as close as possible to the words on my card.
"It's… there." She says breathily. "It's actually there. The words actually changed. How did they… no, no, no, I'm not questioning this. Not when it could turn back at any second. Shelby! Sugar star! Do something, please!"
I'd love to, but from where I'm standing, this place looks pretty damn clean. No residue, no more lingering fumes, and no sight of any wasteblossom metal or whatever it's called whatsoever. I crane my neck and strain my awareness to try to feel anything out of the ordinary, but aside from the construct's impromptu prison and the broken machine, there's nothing.
So I guess we start with that. I hurry over to the machine, carefully put a hand on it, and pull it into my inventory. It disappears without hesitation. And without notification. I toss down a purification coin where it was to get all the magic scoured away, wait a few more seconds, then shake my head and turn to walk back to the construct.
She sighs before I can say anything. "It's me, isn't it?"
With great hesitance, I nod. "Can't think of anything else."
"Not after you cleaned this place so thoroughly." She chuckles. "Scrubbed as clean as your memory of actually cleaning this place. Apparently it was too much to hope that that change in wording would actually change anything. Do what you have to do."
She takes a step back and spreads her arms. "I'll be as still as possible so you don't accidentally blow anything up."
I nod. "Pearl?"
She nods. "Gotcha. Three, two, one."
The construct's prison shatters. I flick a purification coin at her that detonates the second it hits the radiation. Salty mist screams as it struggles against the terrifying power of whatever the hell wasteblossom's true potential is. I can already feel my eyes drying from the exposure.
She doesn't move a muscle. I reach into my pocket and pull out another coin. This one I carefully place on my thumb, coat it in a thick shield, and toss it into the mist. Combined with purification to help the shield hold, my filled infusion coin sails towards her body and gently plinks off her stomach. A flinch travels up her like poison through an unwilling bloodstream.
With it, the magic I ripped away from the machine to reveal it and gain access to this quest surges into her. Her eyes flutter open as the world shifts, coating her in a thin layer of magic that glistens like the night sky reflected on a greasy lake. Slowly but surely, she looks down at her hands. The sheen sinks into her metallic form with insistence, sealing everything in with the magic that kept her locked away. Just… repurposed for a more convenient form.
Honestly, I didn't really expect it to work. But the notification of a subquest complete pings onto my Class Card and–
Two strong arms crush me into an even stronger hug. The construct laughs heartily as she swings me around like a cloth toy, her radiation sealed in by a combination of my magic and the stuff that imprisoned her.
"Shelby! Shelby! Sheeeeelbyyyy!" She laughs once more and finally stops shaking me. "You did it! I can't believe… you… the quest… why'd it change!? No, no, I said I wouldn't think about it, and so I'm not. Now, before this shield of yours dies down and nobody can be within a mile of me, tell me. Is there anything at all I can do to repay you?"
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