She smiles sweetly and backs up.

"You're welcome." I say as the world comes to a halt. "Not sure how long the containment's going to hold, but we'll have to make the most of it."

Pearl nods in agreement. "All the heretics; do you know where we can find them? Even something like a single district name would really help."

"I do not!" The construct giddily says. "All I can tell you is that the system didn't dispose of a single heretic; we were all put to use one way or another. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if all of us were turned into something like me; an attempt to make a stronger construct. One that obviously didn't pan out, or there'd be a lot more non-standard constructs around."

I sigh and nod. "Good point. What about a heretic with weirdly long fingers? It was around here a… little while ago. Got us out of an uplifting trial. Maybe it's working for the system still?"

The construct snorts in amusement. "Working for the system? Does the wood work for the fire? No; it gets used up and destroyed. If one of us is doing the system's bidding, then I'm confident in saying they have no say in the matter. Who knows? Maybe the system had one success after all."

That's… hm. I hadn't even considered that the heretic could've been working for the system there. But I guess it did open the tear to get us out of the uplifting trial. The only way it would've known where to be is if the quest or system told it so. Shit, now I have something else to worry about.

I cross my arms and motion for Pearl to get into her shell. "Well, that's not a pleasant thought. Do you want to come back to our tower with us, uh… I think I forgot your name."

"No you didn't; I never told you!" The construct laughs. "Technically, I have two names; one from when I was a painted dane, and the other from after I was uplifted. It's a… first-wave paindne name, though, so I'm not really inclined to go by it."

I raise an eyebrow. She looks… genuinely stumped. As if she couldn't just call herself her painted dane name. Now that I think of it, though, the only 'painted dane' name I've heard is Illumisia. And if I'm right, that's just the name she was given by the shellraisers. Or… a translation by the shellraisers. I can't really remember what Pearl and Illumisia said.

"Do you hate your name?" Pearl asks unprompted.

"Pearl!" I hiss. "That's not something you just–"

The construct's expression hardens. "It's the name of a coward. The name of someone who ran from the near impossible path and stumbled into her own demise. I won't speak it. That woman doesn't deserve to be spoken of."

"That's…" I trail off as my mouth dries. "You thought you made the right choice."

"The right choice?" The construct barks out a cynical laugh. "I made the selfish choice, Shelby. The megalodane had been pushing for research into our natural magic for years. But it was gruellingly hard. I tried for weeks. That was it. That was the limit of my resolve. And then I turned to betraying everyone because of it. Do I regret my choice? Yes, obviously. Do I still understand how that cynical, short-sighted woman from all those years ago came to that choice?"

She sets her jaw, then barely nods. "I understand her all too well."

Pearl stares at the construct for a few moments. Her eyes are black, burned-out coals of hate. Not quite down to crumbling ashes, though; just not burning for this particular woman. Maybe she understands her. Maybe she just pities her. Hell, she could just think the construct's already been punished enough for her choice.

Death, betrayal, and more than enough time for introspection. And it seems like the construct came out the other side with a healthy dose of realization. I don't have enough skin in the game to make a judgment. So whatever Pearl decides, I'll go along with it. I nod at her to say her piece.

She smiles, but there's no kindness behind it. "The system destroyed both of our species. Mine is completely gone. Yours is… something different. Something that owes its entirety to the system. What are you going to do about it?"

The construct cocks her head to the side. "Is there more than one answer?"

"There is." Pearl says without hesitation. "I want to hear yours."

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"My answer…" The construct trails off in thought. She grinds her maw of razors, a sound that's reminiscent of a swordfight in a cereal box, and slowly focuses on me. Conviction fills her eyes as they meet mine. "For the sake of everyone that comes next. That's my answer."

For the sake of everyone else? What kind of an answer is that? It could easily mean she'll side with the system if she thinks it's the future. That's not the kind of answer that instills confidence. I open my mouth to say something.

"I–"

"I understand." Pearl interrupts. "So you'll need a name for everyone else. Shelby, you come up with one. One like Jumble's or Clutter's."

A frown crosses my face. Now that I've heard Pearl's decision, I'm regretting my choice to just go along with her. It's not like I don't want to trust the heretic construct, though. She's as much a victim in this as anyone else. It's just… well… maybe Dani's betrayal is clouding things. After all, up until five minutes ago, I was perfectly happy to help her with no strings attached.

I calmly breath through my nose and lock eyes with the construct. In her gaze, I see acceptance. No excitement or reluctance or regret of any kind; just a simple look of expectancy that says whatever name I give her is fine. Most of me is… weirdly uncomfortable with this. I just can't put my finger on why. But if I have to…

With a discerning eye that knows absolutely nothing about how appropriate paindne names are, I consider a few. There's the light and playful like Jumble or Nibble, then on the other end there's something like Gnash, and everything else falls somewhere in the middle. Names roll around in my mind like stones in a tumbler, smoothing everything out until finally a polished gem of a name comes spilling out.

"Boom."

"No." The construct says, shutting my suggestion down instantly.

"No." Pearl agrees. "We're not naming her after a bomb. That's insensitive."

The construct nods. "Insensitive and… well… I just kind of hate it? It's the kind of name that I can only imagine being yelled. Do you have anything else? Something… softer, maybe?"

My polished gem shatters like sugar glass. Somehow, it hurts to be so outright denied. I look between the two pairs of expectant eyes and give it a hell of a lot less thought than before. She's metal. And flesh. And construct. And radioactive.I'll just pick something to do with those.

"I don't know. Slice?"

The construct considers it. She seriously considers it. I can't believe she's considering 'Slice' when 'Boom' was… no… yeah, I get it now. But 'Slice' is pretty damn bad, too. Hey, if she likes it though, then who am I to say no?

"Slice." She quietly tries out the name in her mouth. "Hm. It's already growing on me. You know, yes. I think it's more than good enough. Those other names are gone and forgotten; you can now call me 'Slice'. Should we hurry along? You said you were in quite a hurry before because of someone's life being in danger."

Gnash. I clench my teeth and nod in confirmation. "Yeah. Pearl, back in your shell. We're regrouping."

"Aye-aye." Pearl salutes, then squeezes into her shell.

I pull out my Class Card and start to walk over to where the locker room is still hidden behind a wall of material. Time to see what the last step to actually clearing this one is.

Wasteblossom cleaned.

All traces of wasteblossom radiation have been wiped away.

The memory of the incident, however, cannot be erased.

No matter how hard it tries.

…

Subquest clear.

Rewards: keep whatever you've put in your inventory.

100 Worth.

Relief washes over me. 100 Worth. A damn drop in the bucket, all things considered. But it's just enough to make more shields and projectiles to fight with. I send away my Class Card with a flick of my wrist as the world bleeds back to reality, the sound of an intangible cart conspicuously absent from the near silence of two pairs of footsteps. Slice sighs in relief at the sight of open doors but doesn't speed up at all; whatever she's feeling right now, none of it is impatience.

The same subquest clear message pops up in the center of my vision. I sigh in annoyance and move to wave it away, but something catches my eye. There are new words on it. Underneath everything that I just read is one more set of sentences. A message.

From the quest itself.

Now you've stolen another one of my subquests away.

Making this very difficult for me, aren't you?

Well, it won't amount to anything.

Main quest progress is less than two weeks away.

Unless you're ready, nothing you do will matter.

As my eyes flick over the last sentence, the notification itself blinks out. I pull out my Class Card to double-check what I just read, but… the extra sentences aren't there. It just ends with the reward. An unsettling sensation worms its way deep into my guts, pulling and shoving at my innards with the insistence to get my mind wandering again.

Because that message sounded dangerously close to a warning.

Something the quest should have absolutely no reason to give me.

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