It was already late at night, and the streets of Opus had quieted down, with only Aimou’s solitary figure moving slowly forward on the empty street.
Soon, Aimou headed toward the center of the city, the giant scar that spanned the ground.
Waves of mist rushed forward, and many people appeared quite flustered upon seeing the Great Rift for the first time, as this land was indeed eerily terrifying.
But Aimou was different; in her short life, one could say almost all her time was spent within this dark and damp Great Rift.
What others might see as a fearsome Great Rift, to Aimou, was a warm homeland.
Even though she had left not long ago, she felt as if she had been away for many years.
The beam of light in her eyes gradually became clearer; this was a function set within the Constant Motion Core long ago to deal with emergencies, now activated to guide Aimou’s path.
Alice’s figure followed closely behind Aimou, periodically scrutinizing Aimou, observing the trembling pupils of her eyes and her composed facial expression.
A chaotic electric sound echoed in Aimou’s ears, and shortly after, a familiar voice sounded nearby, causing Aimou to pause and look toward the rolling darkness in the mist.
The darkness faded, and familiar figures stood at the edge of the corridor.
"Alright, this is as far as we can go," said the tall figure.
"Why can’t we keep going? There’s clearly a path ahead," the small figure didn’t understand.
The tall figure spoke gently, "Outside is a world that doesn’t belong to you."
The small figure tilted her head, evidently not understanding why the outside world didn’t belong to her, clearly she had already been created, why be imprisoned in this small land?
But she wasn’t troubled by this for long; she knew nothing about the outside world, nor did she have any longing for it, let alone the fact that she really liked this life, feeling it was alright even if she didn’t go outside.
"You’re an aberration; aberrations aren’t welcomed in groups, but here it’s different; the Great Rift welcomes everyone."
He reached out his hand, gently caressing her face, his rough fingers tracing the seams of her metal joints.
She barely grasped these things, raising her hand, revealing palms made of hard, cold metal, with rivets lined along the edges, and blue and red cables visible between the seams.
She was different; his body was soft and warm, while hers was hard and cold.
But she felt it was alright; she was capable of many things he wasn’t, such as driving nails directly with her hand, unlike him, who needed to use tools.
"? Then let’s stay here forever, I think there’s nothing wrong with that," she said.
Alice observed the illusionary scenes from afar, preparing to say something, but she heard footsteps growing distant, and turning her head, Aimou had already walked far away.
Aimou strived to maintain composure, ignoring the memories’ hallucinations, but regardless of how she ignored them, countless figures stood within the heavy mist.
Those two figures appeared again on the aerial corridor; the tall figure lifted the small figure, and she reached out her hand, collecting the faintly glowing gas above.
"The Great Rift is filled with this Alchemy Waste Gas; once gathered, I can teach you how to decompose it."
Aimou walked through the aerial corridor, shattering the illusionary figures into dispersing dust. Alice remained silent, following closely behind her like a hunting wolf pursuing its prey.
Having crossed the aerial corridor, the bewildering crossroads were near the edge of the cliff, where two figures huddled in the shadows.
"See, whenever it rains, the water accumulates and flows into the Great Rift, cascading down the cliff like a waterfall," he gestured toward the distant cliff, the water rushing over and pouring into the Great Rift.
"Shouldn’t we hurry home? Or else I’ll rust!" she wasn’t in the mood to appreciate the scenery.
"It’s okay, it’s okay; after this upgrade, I replaced you with Alchemy Metal, so you don’t have to worry about that," he said.
She raised her hand again; her rough metal palms replaced by hands as exquisite as crafts, the surface polished to a gleam, and her slender fingers deftly danced.
Then came more figures.
The tall figure replaced her eyes, loaded new auditory systems, followed by an entire overhaul, making her more human-like.
She was like a clay sculpture, undergoing constant touches and adjustments, little by little transforming into a human, into... someone.
Aimou halted, she could see the rising light behind the mist, that was her destination, yet she, who never slowed, found herself uncontrollably slowing down, stopping.
"Going to escape? Aimou, you still have time to turn back now; you can return to the Cultivation Room, as if nothing happened tonight. I can help cover your tracks, and no one will know about what transpired tonight..." Alice’s voice echoed in her ear.
Aimou ignored her; since entering the Great Rift, she no longer responded to anything Alice said.
The momentary pause gave Aimou the courage, just as she had previously stated, she must make a conclusion.
No longer hesitating, Aimou stepped into the mist, which seemed to conceal ghosts, the frightening howls continually sounded.
Stepping onto the steel corridor, then onto the wooden floor, the air swirled with a stale scent, Aimou stiffened, overlapping hallucination with reality, standing before a door, hand clasping the handle.