172. An Overview of F-H5

172. An Overview of F-H5

ImpulseWorks Sites were never small. Even the most mundane and low-risked Sites were behemoths that rested beneath rock and soil. The corridors Frost and her group travelled through were made large for the purpose of accommodating Corrupted upwards of 10 meters in size.

These rooms were built at the highest point of F-H5 and did not house the Corrupted. Rather, this was where various Employees such as cleaners, clerks and other administrative and basic personnel called their home. Employees were considered lower than Workers on the ImpulseWorks hierarchy.

They were Clearance Level 7 which was the lowest clearance one could be granted, and they roamed nonchalantly along their lavish facility. The top portion of the Site was essentially the living quarters for its Employees and Workers; however, the Overseer and the Navigator made it clear that some people were required to live on the Corrupted layers.

A pair wearing long, white lab-coats escorted them around the facility. Both were humans. Very human compared to what she imagined them to be. The Overseer was a man dressed in nothing but his simple, loose lab coat that fluttered with each step. There was never a shred of emotion shown in his face.

His eyes were ever calculating as if constantly on the lookout for any potential threats. At one look Frost understood that he had witnessed unimaginable horrors. Or rather, he had already grown accustomed to them.

Overseer

Soul Rank: Yellow | Atelier: ImpulseWorks

LEVEL : 25

ORIGIN: Human

HP : 100

ATT : 5

MAG ATT : 0

ATT DEF : 3,500

MAG DEF : 3,500

MP : 0

RESIST : 300

AGI : 4

“Clearance Level starts at 1 and goes down to 7. 1 will always be the highest in ImpulseWorks. 7 is the lowest. Please keep that in mind. What we discus must never reach the ears of the Workers or Employees.” He slowly spoke, bringing a finger to his tired face.

He appeared as though he had never caught a single night of good sleep for the last decade and was dressed haphazardly. The Navigator on the other hand adorned her uniform like it was her first day at work. There was not a single crease to be found as she towed around several books, including a strange training manual.

Navigator

Soul Rank: Green | Atelier: ImpulseWorks

LEVEL : 10

ORIGIN: Human

HP : 100

ATT : 2

MAG ATT : 0

ATT DEF : 3,500

MAG DEF : 3,500

MP : 0

RESIST : 50

AGI : 4

“Clearance Level is different from a Worker’s attribute level. That’s the only time you’ll see… See… uh – Yeah, see 7 as the highest!” The woman, who had her long, black hair styled into a pair of twin tail braids said, reading straight from the manual.

She constantly needed to adjust her giant, round glasses whenever she returned from reading, and was an all-around klutz as she bumped into walls at regular intervals. Jury kept her close as a result. With them having been confirmed to be companions of Frost, the Black Dove, there was no need to be wary.

But tension hung in the air. The triplets wanted an explanation of ImpulseWorks operations. They were not alone of course, but Frost wanted to remain civil. Before the purpose of their operations, she wanted to know how it was run under the pretense that as their supervising security, she needed to understand what to look out for.

As they ventured into a dark, hollow room where only a single steel catwalk ran along, the Overseer answered.

“We work with the Corrupted for two kinds of responses. Positive, or negative depending on our requirements.” He said, combing a hand through the transparent plaque they had delivered. “Negative to generate Nex. Positive to generate materials. They’re interchangeable, but they’re the standardized methods.”

His voice echoed in this endless chasm. The bottom was nowhere to be found.

“And death is also ‘standardized’ here, I take?” Frost said, hiding her irritation well with a small hum.

“Death is expected when you work in such close proximity with living nightmares. Even after all this time we don’t know what they are. Where they come from. How they’re made. We only know that they have a use to us.” The Overseer explained, running a hand along the railings as they entered another room filled with mechanical tubes and all manners of magical machinery which groaned as if alive.

Larger versions of Inflow Direct’s blue tubes and needles could be found alongside exposed, giant gears that endlessly spun with seemingly no purpose. The floors were made from metal grates, and they could find more twisting gears and pipes pumping various liquids throughout the site, including fresh water.

The origins of this baffled Frost. The mechanisms appeared ancient, but they operated like modern pumps. The longer they walked, the more Frost believed that these pipes resembled the veins of a living entity.

“ImpulseWorks is the backbone of all Ateliers. Without us, they lack weapons and a steady stream of Nex. Nex powers the Ateliers, including our own. In exchange, we have the full cooperation of all Ateliers to sponsor our work.” The Overseer led them into a chamber lit only by red luminescent strings that ran along the ceiling like sinew. “Or used to. Scarlet Logic won’t send any personnel during Code Red protocols.”

They eventually reached a solid piece of glass where the Overseer assumed a pondering gaze. Beside him stood the Navigator who clutched at the manual as her eyes watered at the sentimental sight of something beyond the glass.

Frost could not see this. But she could hear it. A heartbeat. It was not the same as the Impuritas Hearts. Rather, she was instantly struck with an uncanny wave of nostalgia as she held her breath and scoured the darkness for the source.

Why did it feel so familiar to her?

“Can you hear it? The Site Core sits somewhere so deep that it would take days of constant freefall to reach it. But we can also visit it behind a pair of metal doors. Isn’t it fascinating? That Site Core is the amalgamation of technological unity.” The Overseer marveled at it as Jury placed a hand against the window, curious about the Site Core.

“Caldera Industries created the machine. It’s one of their largest. But it’s unstable. Nothing ever is stable anyway. You might run into the occasional Spatial Distortion. That’s normal, and it’s how the Site chooses to expand.” The Navigator read directly from the manual again, running her eyes page by page. “We’re H5. F for facility. H for one of 26 standard characters, and 5 for the Risk Level. As well as the number of seals remaining.”

Seals referred to the 7 chains that encased the Site Core. This vastly limited the power of the Site Core and was the only thing that prevented it from self-imploding. A seal only breaks when the site’s Risk Level moves. The change is permanent, and the strengthened Site Core unleashes a powerful Spatial Distortion which expands the Site.

At a certain size the Site Core and, consequently, the Site was doomed to collapse into itself.

F-H5 had opened 2 seals, meaning there was a total of 3 layers. 4 if they included their current administrative floor.

They called the 1st and 2nd floors the Shallows.

The 3rd and 4th the Twilight.

5th and 6th Midnight.

And finally, the 7th and final layer the Abyss.

The only known Risk Level 1 Site was housed in the very heart of ImpulseWorks’ headquarters in the City of Hearts. This site was called M-A1, a manufactory Site.

Frost found it odd that they spoke so openly about this. She peered and noticed that the manual mentioned that its contents were highly confidential. Hell, it even gave grounds for ImpulseWorks to hunt them down.

When she asked, the Navigator simply looked towards the Overseer who knocked on the plaque.

“Thank Act X. Our only task for today is to thoroughly brief you in. Get you up to speed. We have trouble in a few hours, but you should be ok as a Color… and a healer. Neat.” The Overseer tried to smile, but they were so depraved of sleep that it looked like a scowl.

He limped away and led them into the only neighboring room. Various flashing, magical signs warned that this was a restricted area. From what she understood, the Overseer had every authority to eliminate any of the Workers or Employees at will.

But this was not true.

The Overseer simply called the shots. The one who ran the operations but with the encyclopedic and highly logical advice of the Navigator. In truth, it was the Navigator who acted as the brains of each of the 26 known Sites.

This kindhearted, timid woman had the absolute authority to kill someone with the flick of a finger.

Navigators needed to castrate their moral compass to succeed.

The morality is so skewed. But I can tell she’s afraid. They called her a temporary Navigator huh… You know, that reminds me. About you, Nav.

Frost and her companions eventually found themselves in one of several ‘Operational rooms’ which allowed the Overseer and Navigator to observe the entire facility on a glass plane. A two dimensional cross section of the Site could be seen in all its glory, revealing the 30 odd Corrupted they currently kept until they could determine their classifications.

The Overseer tapped on the glass, and the black-suited workers rendered tapped their ears and gave a nod before they ventured to exactly where he had tapped. Frost was beyond baffled by this, and she nearly lost her train of thought as Jury quietly marveled at the technological wonder.

Nav. It’s no secret that we might have known each other in the past. Do you think that maybe you were a Navigator? Like her?

“The coincidence of you naming me after a Navigator would be hilarious if I could understand the concept of laughter. That implies ImpulseWorks or its work ethics have Otherworldly origins. If true, then perhaps your razed world may have had Ateliers akin to ImpulseWorks.”

There’s no doubt in my mind that it did. With all this technological craziness and with Jury’s Heart of Time, I’d be an idiot to think otherwise. Someone must have influenced them.

“Indeed. Navigator… It is a true profession. I cannot recall such a thing. Additionally, it does not appear that machines assume the role of the Navigator.”

Frost intently watched the screen like she was watching the Overseer play a video game, all the while the triplets struggled to sit still when so many Corrupted were waiting to be slaughtered.

You’ll never know. Maybe in that world, Navigators were machines.

“Only time will tell.”

“Hmm?” Jury tilted her head catching wind of Frost’s gaze.

“A-Ah. Ahem. Black Dove. Accomplices. Or – Ah… Companions. Can I run you through a few things?” The Navigator timidly gathered their attention, freezing at the cold gaze of the triplets.

“You three. Please listen to her.” Frost warned in a low tone of voice, but she sympathized with them. She truly did, but she did not want to make an enemy out of an ally.

At least not now.

“Hypocrite.” Cer hissed. “You’re just going to stand there? Listening to this? She’s reading from a damned pamphlet. We don’t need that. We just need to do what we do best. Kill the Corrupted.”

Ignis did not participate and simply waited beside Snap in anticipation.

Frost cleared her throat and approached them.

“D-Don’t kill them. The Site – Without them we’ll all –!”

“Please forgive Her. She’s just joking.” Frost affirmed with a stoic nod as she passed the woman, standing firmly before the defiant triplets. “Sorry. Listen… I understand how you feel. Think about the buffet that’s waiting for me down there.”

If Frost did not exude an aura of authority, then she would have sounded like a crazed lunatic. The triplets didn’t try to fight back and stared at her with bared fangs.

“Navigator. What’s the goal of F-H5? Of ImpulseWorks as a whole?” Frost asked.

“Er… I don’t really know. But I’ve heard that a lot of wars had stopped ever since ImpulseWorks became active. Maybe it’s that… or maybe it’s –”

“Preserve your sanity. Reinforce your heart. Harden your mind –”

The Overseer spoke with his back turned to them, the light of the glass screen cascading over him like a holy figure in this dim, metal chamber.

“– Temper your aspirations. Only then can you temper theirs… Temper Aspirations. It’s our motto. How do you interpret it? Our Beholder… The Abyssal Mother was always cryptic with us. We don’t know how our work influences the world outside.”

He zoomed into the smiling faces of a small group of Workers as they patrolled a corridor, and then, moved to the bloodied room where an empty cradle resided. The deceased body had yet to be removed.

“We only know that we must keep pushing forward. Everyone here aspires to understand the Corrupted. We can’t fight like you or the Moons of the Nexus. We can only experiment and observe from afar.”

Then, he focused on a Worker interacting with a porcelain-made doll that sat atop a glass throne. Inside of the all-white, metal room Frost watched as the Worker first observed the Corrupted, and then, they kissed the back of its palm.

The room flashed green, and he was free to take a severed, porcelain hand with him in return.

“We study them. Harvest them. Categorize them. We’re Facility H5, after all. Black Dove. Ugh. You sent a wrench my way. End goal? I can’t remember why I started this in the first place. Is it the call of the Abyss? Our morbid curiosity? We don’t know. But we do know that there is work to be done. I can’t imagine how the other Ateliers are supposed to make their own Nex without us.”

This caused Frost to realize the moral dilemma of ImpulseWorks very existence.

As horrific as the work here was, the alternative was even worse. It was the choice of picking the lesser evil, and with her knowledge of how people can generate Nex, Frost deeply understood the implications of a world without ImpulseWorks.

This finally nailed the fine balance between the powers of the Ateliers, and reliance upon one another.

Reorganizing them was going to be far more difficult than she could possibly imagine. But this did not dissuade her. Instead, it only fueled her aspiration to make amends for the Ateliers.

Although, she understood that with the Corrupted, death was unfortunately going to be commonplace.

This realization spilled onto the triplets as they recomposed themselves and simultaneously sighed.

“Sounds to me like even the Beholders don’t know shit.” Cer spat. “Alright. We’ll tag along. Security? Sounds easy.”

“Don’t forget my zero-death policy. No one’s allowed to die in these 5 days.” Frost stated, gathering nods from Snap, Jury, Ignis and Res.

“Yeah yeah. As always. Alright, Nav, I mean, Navigator. What’s up?”

“… the ceiling?” The Navigator innocently pointed upwards, and in that moment, Cer unexpectedly snickered. “Um. Is it ok for me to speak now?”

“Please.” Jury kindly urged, adoring the Navigator.

They all wondered if Nav would one day turn out to be as cute.