After a moment of contemplation on the single bed, Bologue decided what he should do today and sat at the desk, sketching on paper.
Bologue’s drawing skills were average, but fortunately, this was only for himself to see. As long as Bologue understood it, it was fine. It didn’t take long for a design of ether goggles to appear on the paper.
Picking up the design, Bologue pushed the door open and left.
The space in the Alchemy Workshop was quite large. Aside from the lab area on the second floor, there were some corners on the first floor with simple workbenches for easy metal crafting.
Space was limited in the small cabin of the base, so Bologue often used these workbenches to handle some things.
Since becoming a Condenser, Bologue had been diligently studying knowledge related to Alchemy. Though he couldn’t study the Alchemy Matrix like an Alchemist, he had the ability to craft simple gear with existing materials.
Taking two ether goggles, Bologue dismantled all unnecessary components without affecting their function, fetching some straps and metal parts from a pile of discarded pieces, scattered them across the workbench.
After starting mechanical training, Bologue’s mastery of Secret Energy deepened considerably, and many fine, complex parts were no longer challenging for him.
While looking at the blueprint, Bologue activated the Summoning Hand, shaping the metal parts in his hand. In the paths of azure light, the shape of the metal began to change.
The Summoning Hand was indeed an extremely convenient Secret Energy. Earlier, Teda even said it suited him to be a graceful Blacksmith, while others laboriously pounded and heated metal, he just needed to reach out and touch it.
The ether goggles dismantled by Bologue now were reduced to two cylindrical bodies, and the writhing metal bound them together, forming a telescopic shape.
Bologue picked it up and placed it on his face, adjusting the angle, then making more precise adjustments. When finished, he threaded a strap onto the ether goggles and wore it on his head.
After a brief delay, the vision turned into countless ghostly ribbons, entangled and woven together.
The normal world was no more, replaced by the world of Ether.
Bologue wore his self-made ether goggles and walked inside the Alchemy Workshop. Previously used ether goggles were monocular, limiting the view, but now it was entirely open, with Ether rolling like tangible wind.
The entire building’s ether trajectories gradually emerged, swirling and finally converging at the central spire of the building, which was the core of the Void Realm, stabilizing its operation.
To Bologue, it was a brand new world. He was engrossed until the flickering lights discomforted his eyes, prompting him to remove the goggles and hang them around his neck.
His eyes were somewhat sore, Bologue blinked forcefully and rubbed them, feeling much better.
Looking at the blueprint and his creation, the joy in Bologue’s heart didn’t last long. A surge of boredom and emptiness washed over him.
Bologue sat expressionlessly on the chair.
At this moment, Bologue’s mood was peculiar. He still remembered the beauty he experienced at last year’s Vow Festival, at Adelle’s home, where he and her children cheered at the table.
In just one year, everything had changed beyond recognition. Bologue wasn’t mourning Adelle’s death; he was more concerned about the beauty he could no longer touch.
Everyone needed companionship on this important holiday. Even Palmer was calling his fiancée.
In contrast, Bologue was solitary.
Bologue didn’t care about loneliness. He had spent long years in the Black Prison and knew better than anyone how to handle solitude.
He was just somewhat... someway unable to blend in.
Like anxiety disorder, when a festive holiday arrived, everyone fell into the celebration. Watching the excited crowd, Bologue always felt alienated, standing out in the reveling crowd, like an outsider.
Bologue also wanted to join, but he couldn’t find a reason to participate nor could he empathize.
The more he wanted to blend in, the more he felt alienated, and the more anxious he became. So he wanted to escape the revelry, coming alone to this Alchemy Workshop to avoid this critical day.
Recalling the members of the Undying Club, for them, the arrival of the holiday made these reclusive monsters incredibly happy; it was their day to return to the world. As for Bologue, wandering as a Debtor among people, it meant nothing to him.
Bologue stopped thinking about it. Footsteps echoed from the corridor, and perhaps out of curiosity, Bologue put on the ether goggles before they arrived.
In the world outlined by Ether, all ether reactions became clear. At this moment, Bologue realized the ether goggles could achieve a kind of perception but could only penetrate objects with ether reactions.
Ether flowed, woven into a vague humanoid form, with a dazzling light burning at the heart’s position.
While curiously observing, Bologue suddenly found Aimou stopped moving, as if eavesdropping, hiding in the corridor, hesitating to move.
Bologue called tentatively.
"I see you." Bologue said again.
After a moment of silence, Aimou walked out, slightly embarrassed, the halo in her eyes constantly trembling, although Bologue did not notice these.
He was wearing Ether lens now, and in his eyes, Aimou had completely transformed into another form, the blurry outlines became clear.
Ether flowed within Aimou’s body, intertwining and interspersing, forming patterns similar to blood vessels and nerves, and ultimately all flowing towards the Constant Motion Core in the chest.
"How did you see me?" Aimou asked curiously.
Bologue tapped the Ether lens, Aimou knew exactly what it was and was not surprised by it.
Bologue took off the Ether lens and then asked Aimou, "Is there something you need?"
On this important holiday, everyone went off to celebrate and revel, now only Bologue and Aimou stayed here, as if abandoned.
"Aren’t you celebrating today?" Aimou asked, "For humans, this should be an important holiday, everyone has left."
Bologue thought that, in Aimou’s eyes, he should be a freak, tinkering with these little gadgets while others joined the celebration.
"Such important matters vary from person to person." Bologue explained.
"Vary from person to person?" Aimou didn’t quite understand.
"The important thing is not the holiday itself, but the people you spend it with." Bologue said indifferently about his situation, "My friend passed away, and along with that, the holiday lost its meaning, that’s just how it is."
Upon hearing about the passing, Aimou seemed somewhat lost.
"Because when you spend it with friends, the holiday takes on special significance," Aimou’s voice lowered, "just like a name."
Mentioning names, Bologue remembered what Teda said before and expressed curiosity.
Bologue suddenly called out her name, which made her feel a sudden panic.
"Why did you name yourself Aimou?" This name was not given by Teda, but Aimou chose it for herself, Bologue was quite curious about this, "Why do you feel the need for a name?"
Aimou did not answer immediately, she pondered over the answer, then said.
Aimou unexpectedly took the initiative, reminding Bologue of the scene when he first spoke with her, when she mischievously teased him.
Bologue nodded and followed Aimou, walking through the winding corridors until she arrived at a dust-covered door.
Aimou didn’t have complex expressions, but Bologue could still sense the pressure within her, she became increasingly uneasy and restless, as if there was something sinful hidden behind the door.
"Initially I didn’t care about names, after all, they are things humans use to designate something, I’m not human, so it seemed to be unnecessary for me."
Aimou placed her hand on the door handle, mustered her courage, and forcefully turned it.
"But that day, I saw these things, although I’m not human, I roughly understood what life and death are and developed an infinite fear towards them."
The door was pushed open, and in the dim light, choking dust filled the air, Bologue coughed several times before recovering, then he saw a room filled with bodies.
They weren’t strictly corpses, but one after another broken Alchemy Puppets, the surface metal oxidized and rusted, the accumulated dust filled mechanical seams, more bizarre though was, each Alchemy Puppet bore the same face as Aimou’s, as if countless Aimou had died here.
Bologue walked in, his gaze sweeping over these iron remnants, for humans these were just failed experiments, but for Aimou, they represented how she "died."
"Since then, I felt the need for a name, so I wouldn’t just be some Alchemy Puppet labeled 001, 002, 003, only with numbers."
Aimou lowered her head, wiping dust from the broken cheek, in some sense, these scattered bodies were all former versions of herself, lacking self-awareness.
"I am Aimou, even if one day I join them here, I am the special one, no longer a vague, coded identity, but one with a clear name."
Aimou turned around and expressed her innermost thoughts to Bologue.
"A name possesses magic power, it makes me no longer a fuzzy collective entity, but a specific, real, acknowledged individual."