Nexus Awakened (An Isekai LitRPG Gender Bender Story)

753. A Deluge of Tears

Just as the Operational Conductor was about to put them out of their misery, a chill ran down his spine. A sharp pain appeared on his neck. A sharp crystal hovered against his throat, silencing him as he recognized who this belonged to.

“A collapsed star of such proximity will only bring more tears. I weep for them. But I will not weep for you if you were to go against the Amalgam’s orders.”

Teardrop approached him from behind. He stopped momentarily right beside the Operational Conductor. The man could feel the heat radiating from the constant deluge of tears that ran down Teardrop’s eye.

“The Code of Conduct allows us the discretion to make mercy kills when an individual has a condition incompatible with life.” The man argued. “What life do they have to look forward to after they’ve been rotted? When they don’t know what they’re supposed to be?”

“That discretion was a mistake then if it can be used so insincerely. They are not like the Our Bodies of the Crimson Hunger which are irrecoverable and have future other than to suffer.” Teardrop said, uttering before he approached the slug-people: “My discretion supersedes yours as an Exalted of the Nexus. They should not be killed because they cannot endorse their own attachment what you believe should be ‘themselves’.”

“… I hear you loud and clear.” The Operational Conductor was against this, but he had no choice but to stand down.

It was ironic, since he too was not so different from them, though this irony wasn’t ignored by him either. He truly believed that the difference between them was that he was aware of who and what he was, unlike them.

“I would not dare to utter what you believe around the Amalgam. She has close companions from the Derma Layer. Has it not already been made clear enough for you?”

“It has. It was my mistake.” The Operational Conductor dispelled his hammer into a thousand shards of white light. “I’ll remember this. Old habits.”

“Old habits are not an excuse. They weep.” Teardrop picked up a child whose legs were shaped like the backside of a tadpole. They were clearly human, and they wept not from their suffering, but from the giant eyeball that stared back.

He then looked down to see various others surrounding a dead body. They didn’t cry, shout, scream or mourn. They only loomed over the body and poked it as if they could not recognize death.

“Ignorance or naivety does not equal unawareness. A part of them do understand what they are. Otherwise, I would not be able to shed so many tears.” Teardrop claimed.

“They are aware?”

“Partially. Just because they are like this does not mean their capacity for self-awareness has disappeared. It is like if a snake enters the body of a human. They will find it odd as to why they cannot swallow their food whole. Nor to twist their body to strangle prey. People can think. They are conscious. You just can’t see it. They have not learned it.”

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“… then why are we letting them suffer like this?”

“Because they have the right to live.” Teardrop solemnly said. “Our Bodies are beyond saving. But they are still there. Take this from a true Impuritas. Be glad that you have eyelids to blink when your eyes are dry.”

Shards of frozen tears skipped along the ground. So many passed by that it was if a blizzard had taken place. The distant Ferris wheel began to ooze with a torrent of blood as it made its final revolutions, yet the music never ceased to end.

It was always playing. Always mocking. The joyous tune accompanied the laughter of the Impuritas. They died with cruel grins plastered on their face.

Teardrop lurched forward suddenly.

He produced a frozen carrying an unpleasant memory belonging to…

“… Even the Amalgam weeps.”

The tear’s sheer size had caused him to recoil. Normal tears were only about the size of a hand, and those were commonly linked to incredibly disturbing snapshots. But this one was the size of a limb, and it showed an Amalgam without the golden strands of hair.

She oversaw a painter who showed children the picture of a star, as a blind child reached to touch it.

Teardrop did not allow anyone else to view the snapshot of the Amalgam’s memory. In a way, it didn’t come from the Amalgam directly. In fact, it belonged to someone else entirely – as if they could also see the memories of the Amalgam.

He did not know who would be capable of viewing someone else’s memories like himself. The Amalgam was also a being that he did not believe his powers would work on either, as her RESIST would be far too high.

It intrigued him, but not enough for him to pursue his curiosity.

“The Heart of the City falls tonight. No one will weep for their loss. It will do you well to remember where you came from. Have some empathy. It will be useful.” Teardrop said, placing down the child. “… The Amalgam must not be happy. Of all the Hearts of the City, this must be the worst for her because. These people will require help.”

“There is no room for empathy. That opens the door to chaos when you start valuing things that can’t be helped.” The Operational Conductor fixed his peaked cap until it hid his eyes. “Endorse Attachment, Exalted. Know who you are so that they can’t change you.”

“Regrettable, but understandable.”

It had only been minutes since the raid began. The Amalgam had already destroyed the Heart of the City. The living attractions melted like houses of wax, with only a handful remaining. Even without a Heart, they were hazardous and had a degree of permanence so long as they could attract people into them.

The Ferris wheel, which stood at a staggering one hundred meters high, folded into itself as it drooped to the side. It shuddered and gagged blood from an invisible orifice. The streets ran red from the deluge of blood.

How many people had to die for it to accumulate so much blood?

The final hums of the carnival music distorted before it faded away to nothingness. The sound of splattering blood replaced it immediately, as well as the collective cries of thousands that were caught in the storm.

“Send your men back. The Amalgam calls for your retreat.” Teardrop slowly said, and at once, the Operational Conductor fired a black ball into the air. It flew like a flare, and it exploded high enough for all to see.

The eyes of the Derma layer slug-people dazzled at the sight of it as they uttered: “It’s a star!” and pointed at it. The clouds concealed everything, and it did not help that the moon hid the stars away.

“Sick, isn’t it? They weren’t given a chance to think.” A passing Vermilion Moon commented. It was another Vampire who had long, red hair that was cut straight.

She retrieved an empty vial from her Dimensional Storage and scooped up blood. Then, she took a handful and slurped on it.

“Not so different from people in the City of Strings. The lot of them knew how to fight before learning the bitterness of coffee. Oh well. Guess we’ll leave them here for dead?”

“We’ll leave them here for retrieval outside of an Isolation Sphere. Orders from the Amalgam. They can live for up to 3 days without food and water.” Teardrop said.

“Won’t it be 30 days inside of an Isolation Sphere? They can survive longer there, right?” The Vermilion Moon said quizzically, tilting her head to the side.

“Bodily process operates relative to one’s experienced time. The passage of time does not affect hunger or the rate of recovery. If it did, then we would not need to eat at regular intervals. They will die in 7 inside of an Isolation Sphere.”

“Ahhh. I see. I see. Good catch.” The Vermilion Moon hummed.

It was unclear if she understood Teardrop or not.