(Nekra, do you happen to know anything about the other conceptual virtues?) I transmitted my question to Nekra through a thought, but she seed uninterested in the conversation. Her attention was entirely focused on the dolls’ performance, observing every movent with an almost childlike fascination.
At my question, Nekra turned to , her golden eyes with violet pupils gleaming as they locked onto mine. For a mont, she remained motionless before tilting her head slightly to the side, her expression carrying a subtle, almost imperceptible confusion.
The gesture montarily puzzled until the mory surfaced clearly — Arthur had created that na to refer to beings like her. In theory, there was no reason for Nekra to recognize or react to the term.
(Can you tell more about your siblings?) I rephrased my question, trying to approach the topic differently.
This ti, however, Nekra seed to grasp my intent. Her face briefly took on a thoughtful expression before her thoughts echoed in my mind: (Nekra doesn’t know... we never t in person... our functions were different... we couldn’t... see each other...)
Nekra’s words only left with more questions than answers. From what she had said so far, anyone would have assud she was in constant contact with the other virtues. And yet, now, she claid she had never seen them. What did that really an? The contradiction in her words only made more confused and curious.
Unaware of my thoughts, Nekra’s soft, distant voice resonated in my mind like a gentle whisper: (But the white… is different...)
Letting those words linger in my mind, Nekra returned to watching the dolls, as usual. I simply couldn’t understand her train of thought. Or rather, though I felt a little guilty for thinking this, she tended to be quite absentminded most of the ti — in other words, a total airhead. Either way, as expected, I didn’t get much out of her, as always.
Lost in thought, I slowly swung my feet, almost absentmindedly, while my eyes wandered across the room’s completely white ceiling. The room was silent, and suddenly, I felt sothing.
I couldn’t quite identify what it was or why, but it was an odd sensation — like the nostalgia that hits when you hear a song that was part of your life years ago.
It was a comforting, inexplicable feeling, bringing back distant mories that sohow evaded my conscious mind.
When I shifted my gaze, I noticed Nekra staring fixedly at a corner of the room, her eyes almost glazed over as if hypnotized by sothing invisible to . There was an intensity in her expression that I couldn’t fully understand.
Honestly, I had no solid basis for forming an explanation, nor any specific emotion to attach to it, but sohow, sothing inside — perhaps an instinct — told that a new conceptual virtue had erged. Unlike last ti, however, my Alter Ego remained absent.
Moreover, although I sensed a presence filled with an energy similar to Nekra’s, I couldn’t pinpoint its exact location. It was as if sothing was there, yet slipping away from my perception. In the end, it would be sothing I’d have to figure out on my own.
With that thought, I got up from the bed and, before leaving, cast one last glance at Nekra. She remained absorbed in her dolls, completely imrsed in her silent world.
(Nekra, I’m heading out for a bit) I communicated ntally.
She rely turned to slowly, her eyes fixed on mine for a mont before nodding slightly—a silent confirmation, yet one filled with understanding.
(Alright... Nekra will stay...) she replied before returning her focus to the dolls, which danced gracefully before her, their movents fluid and almost ethereal.
Honestly, I found her behavior strange. Last ti, if my mory served right, Nekra had insisted almost obsessively on coming with . It was to the point that I ended up giving in and sharing more of my precious ice cream with her.
Though it might seem trivial, you have no idea how much that ant. You see, when you’re one of these immortal entities, unable to feel much of anything, the few pleasures I can still savor beco more valuable than any treasure in the world.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I decided it was ti to leave. The very mont that resolve solidified, a dark mist began emanating from my body—gentle yet relentless. It spread around , wrapping in a thick, dense layer.
The mist rose above my head, casting a deep shadow on the ground as if the environnt itself yielded to its presence. This was exactly what I needed to activate my ability. In the next movent, I extended my hand and opened a portal, stepping through without hesitation, diving straight into the vast and shadowy world beyond.
Speaking of abilities, I know I acquired a new one after absorbing the book last ti, but no matter how much I’ve tried to use it, nothing happens. Unfortunately, these abilities don’t co with an instruction manual. Unless I manage to figure out how to use them myself, they remain dormant.
I’ve tried everything, tested every approach that ca to mind, but nothing seems to work. Maybe, at so point in the future, I’ll be able to master this ability... or at least, that’s what I hope.
Either way, as I moved through the world of shadows, I caught an intriguing conversation coming from Laura’s office. Arthur and she were discussing sothing about the virtues. If I had to sum up the conversation, I’d say Arthur was insisting that I go with him because he couldn’t pinpoint the exact location of the virtue. In the end, the decision was left to Emily, and she was the one who gave Arthur his answer, determining the course of action.
"Unfortunately, we can’t do that. The higher-ups would never allow it. For starters, last ti, the world nearly ended, wasn’t it because the [Angel of Death] appeared there? So why the hell would we take the key back to open another portal?" Emily explained, raising an eyebrow with a skeptical look.
She had a point—a point that definitely deserved consideration. However, sothing felt different this ti. This new conceptual virtue, as Arthur ntioned, gave the feeling that it was already present in our world.
Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling this wave of nostalgia—sothing that seems to originate from it. Of course, that’s what Arthur relayed to Emily, but once again, it led nowhere.
"I get your point, Arthur, but unfortunately, this ti, there's nothing I can do" Emily replied, her expression a mix of frustration and regret: "The higher-ups still hold sway here, and even though I was the one who made the request, they didn't allow it. I'm sorry—I can't help right now"
In the end, Arthur let out a deep sigh and, with a slight nod, acknowledged Emily's words. Then, he started making his way back to the surface. Naturally, I didn’t waste any ti following him—but I had two reasons for that.
The first was that, while I could sense the virtue, I had no idea where it actually was. It was like a feeling that ca from all directions at once—confusing and scattered. Given that, I chose to follow Arthur, who, even though he wasn’t sure either, seed to have at least so vague sense of where it might be.
***
(POV – Arthur Hensley)
Wearing a calm yet thoughtful expression, Arthur settled into the driver’s seat, his gaze fixed straight ahead. His fingers rested lightly on the steering wheel, but, curiously, he didn’t start the engine.
The silence inside the vehicle was dense, broken only by the soft sound of Arthur’s breathing. Then, through the rearview mirror, reflecting the back seats, he noticed sothing unusual.
A small, pitch-black hole was gradually forming, as if emptiness itself were materializing in the space behind him. The next mont, a head erged from the void—delicate features and a pair of golden eyes glowing intensely in the dim light, as if they radiated a light of their own.
A faint smile ford on Arthur’s lips before he turned on the car. Within minutes, the vehicle was cruising down the road, leaving behind the arid desert where the base was located and heading toward the city.
Ever since arriving at the base, Arthur had felt an odd sensation of being watched.
In his line of work, that feeling was more common than people might think, and over ti, he had beco extrely sensitive to furtive glances. It was precisely this sharpened awareness that alerted him to the fact that the Angel of Death had been silently listening in on the conversation.
Just as he expected—she followed him. Though Arthur still wasn’t sure why, there was one thing he had co to understand in the short ti he had known the Angel of Death: she was an anomaly driven by sheer curiosity. Even if Arthur did nothing, she would probably follow him just because of that curiosity. And, as it turned out, Arthur had been spot on.
Monts later, a scene unfolded that even Arthur found almost comical.
A car had pulled over on the side of the road, and a child—her face so close to the window that she looked like she was about to press against it—was staring outside with wide, curious eyes.
At first glance, it seed like an ordinary scene. That is, if not for the fact that the child’s eyes shone in an unnatural way, as if reflecting their own internal light, and parts of her body were nearly translucent, emanating a faint white aura, as though she were made of so ethereal substance.
Regardless, Arthur wasn’t entirely sure where the virtue was. He only had a vague idea, like a general neighborhood it might be in.
So, he simply drove around, hoping the Angel of Death would react in so way. In other words, Arthur was using her as a sort of radar to track down conceptual virtues.
After about two hours of circling the city, Arthur arrived at a residential neighborhood. That’s when the anomaly finally reacted.
Her previously motionless form showed a noticeable change in behavior—she beca visibly more alert.
Suddenly, she seed hyperaware, as if she had sensed sothing in the environnt. The mont Arthur picked up on this shift, he quickly hit the brakes. As he stepped out of the car, the anomaly followed him silently, materializing at his side—erging from the shadow cast by his own body.
“Well, let’s take a look” Arthur said, striding forward with steady steps. Beside him, the anomaly followed in silence.
***
(POV – Protagonist)
Ever since we arrived in this residential neighborhood, the feeling of nostalgia had been growing stronger with every step. Arthur and I walked down the quiet street, taking in the scenery around us.
Well, actually, I was the one caught up in this flood of mories. In the end, it was Arthur who was following without asking questions.
We continued like this for a while, until my eyes landed on a particular house.
It was a two-story residence—grand, with a well-kept balcony that made it clear its owners were people of wealth.
Everything about it seed designed to impress—the neatly arranged garden, the large windows letting in the perfect amount of light, creating an atmosphere of subtle yet undeniable luxury.
But that wasn’t why I had stopped. There, at the top of the house, sitting on the balcony, a girl was watching . Her features were delicate, almost noble—like she had stepped out of an old painting.
Her hair, long and flowing, shimred with golden strands so vibrant they were almost blinding at first glance. She looked at with a faint smile—one that danced at the corners of her lips, radiating a happiness so pure that it was impossible not to be drawn in.
And yet, sothing about her unsettled . For all her grace and beauty, she appeared completely human—or at least, that’s how she seed to . But sothing was deeply wrong. It was as if a crushing wave of nostalgia was about to consu —building, swelling, ready to burst inside as I locked eyes with the girl.
In other words, she wasn’t just human. There was no doubt about it—she was a conceptual virtue. The very one we had been searching for.
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