“Human Resources” Shouldn’t Be This Literal: A PMMM/ProjectMoon Quest

Sidestory 15 - Innocent Monsters

"~It could be said that the City was split into two worlds. There was the world of the poor and downtrodden, scraping by in the Backstreets for whatever they could reach. For most, this was a world of turmoil. A life of uncertainty and danger definite only by your ability to fend for yourself. And for those who could claim success over others, there was much reward to be found. If one was ruthless, cunning, and lucky, they could build an empire amongst the refuse. Then there was the world above, the world of wealth and comfort. A place protected by the mightiest powers of the City. From there, it might seem as if one was born with endless possibilities. And yet, this world was no kinder than the one below. Only the worthy and talented had a place in it, and should they fail or be struck by a sudden misfortune they would be tossed below and torn apart.

These were the worlds of the City. Cruel and miraculous as they were, they encompasses all the domains of man. And each man and woman, elder and child, had their place in it.

But there was a third world. A world for those who did not belong in the City, beyond the walls and the watchful eyes of the faceless lords of that bloodstained utopia. Out in the dust and rain, the exiled killed and died, built and destroyed, a churning dance of beginnings and endings. For some, this land beyond land was a torment, an agonizing life deprived of all their old joys. For others, it was a paradise free of the bonds and chains that had held them back for so long. And fewer still saw it for what it truly was. A chance to start anew.

And now, a new tribe has found themselves banished to the land beyond the borders. What, say you, do you believe these new lost souls shall see in our home away from home?~"

"So, what do you think?" Tia chirped in her seat, the tiny little gremlin clearly intent on preventing Quint from exploiting the delay in their final compatriot's arrival to get some actual rest. He had learned how to fall asleep and wake up practically instantly as a matter of course even before the accident that had led to the Quartz Office's banishment, and the skill had been useful in slowing the spread of the Genesis Marrow through his body. He would prefer to sleep as much as possible, but being married to Tia tended to remove such a thing as an option.

"The work as a whole is of acceptable quality, though the conclusion was somewhat abrupt. Were you to extrapolate for a few more sentences, it would greatly raise the enjoyment of the body." Luna answered softly, in deep contrast to his looming form. The Painted Void was an immense, pitch-black silhouette with only the vaguest resemblance to anything human. His body was decorated with what looked like strokes of paint made into matter, a rainbow of colours forming the locks of short curly hair, the contours of a loose robe, the edges of twisted, coiled claws. A vibrant array of shapes spewed from his back, sometimes the branches of a tree, sometimes wings too numerous to count, sometimes rings and patterns that appeared to repeat inward infinitely. Luna was the oldest of their little coalition, having been sentenced to the Outskirts centuries ago for reasons nobody alive remembered and that Quint wasn't foolish enough to ask the man himself about.

"I really wish you'd let me sleep, that's what I think." Quint deadpanned. Tia, never one to simply accept indifference, proceeded to fall back into her seat and pout. Quint just sighed. She looked cute like that. His Vice Operator was a short, energetic woman with tan skin and silvery-white hair tied into two braids thrown over the back of her uniform. The faded cyan bone-coral growths of the Genesis Marrow had long since swallowed her legs and right arm, giving the appearance of a particularly macabre set of armor scrounged together by somebody living at the bottom of the sea. Of course, such a thing never seemed to bother Tia as much as it did Quint.

"If you must know, Tia, I thought it was great." Quint admitted with a resigned exhale. Tia's mood flipped instantly, of course.

"Thanks! Right, so how about you Neffie? What do you think?" Tia continued. The man in question simply smiled and shook his head.

"I have little knowledge of such things, I'm afraid." the red-haired man in question said softly. That apologetic smile seemed to be his default expression, so it was hard to tell if he was actually sorry about his supposed inability to appreciate art. He was probably the most human-looking out of all of them, ironically. Aside from the red tattoos across his body, most of which were covered by the plain white robe he wore, Neffie could've been mistaken for a completely regular person. Well, were it not for the little red line traced around his neck like a collar, only interrupted by the letters NE:FI.

"You don't need knowledge to state an opinion. Simply explain how the work makes you feel."
Luna insisted, his form looming over the table.

"I suppose it was… hopeful? I too would like for more companions in our survival here." Neffie answered after a moment of silent contemplation.

"Right? I wonder what they're gonna be like. I can't see any people in that weird building from down here." Tia said.

"Maybe it's empty." Quint proposed, still trying to settle in to get some sleep. If he was lucky, he could manage at least a few minutes before-

"I'm here~!"

-Arkin showed up.

Quint could only be so frustrated with the former Syndicate leader. He stood nearly two meters tall, even hunched over so far that he was practically on all fours. The man's skin was completely covered by glassy, scale-like shards. Even his face was fully encased, leaving not a single human feature visible. Two antenna-like wisps of light flickered out from the space where his eyes should have been, flicking back and forth in the air. His wings, crystallized fractal shapes more than real body parts, were folded up over his body like a cloak and his oversized sheath was more of a cane than anything else at this point. Arkin Kvostyv had been a true terror once, but the years were starting to take their toll on him. Normally, that wouldn't be enough to earn sympathy, but Quint could commiserate. He might not be getting up in his years, but he and his Office were on a timer all the same.

"And I brought stuff for Caipirinha!"

…well, there were limits to his sympathy.

"Is that why you were so late?" Quint asked, eyes still closed. "Do you even know how to make Caipirinha?"

There was silence around the table. Arkin let out a raspy cough. Of course he didn't. But he had already known that. Interacting with Arkin was always a frustrating endeavor, because everything he did was far more measured and careful than he pretended.

"I know how."

"Ah, do you? I'm afraid it would be pointless for me to partake, but please do the honours for the rest of us." Neffie proposed. Luna reached forwards and somehow managed to pick up the crate of ingredients from where he was sitting. Nobody really knew how he worked.

"That's really nice of you, but how about you tell us about our new neighbor? We did wait for you." Tia said to Arkin, cheerful as always. At least things would be getting back on track.

"Oh? Are we not waiting for Suzanne?" Arkin asked, more for everyone else's benefit than his.

"She is back at the labs, working. Tia and I can report any useful information back to her." Quint answered. Arkin nodded, as though he hadn't already known that.

"Well, if you insist. My information gathering has been successful. I've got plenty of news for you all about our new neighbors."

"And are they, as you say, 'neighbors'?" Quint asked.

"Yes, they are indeed actual people we can interact with. The Library, as it's called, is inhabited by a large number of individuals who are all of relatively sound mind and body. They cannot leave their current residence, nor will we be able to enter without their permission, but once that hurdle has been overcome amicable relations will be simple enough to built." Arkin explained, drumming his fingers rhythmically on the table.

"Library? Perhaps there will be some cultured folks there, then. Luna chimed in, more to himself than anyone else. To nobody's surprise, his first priority would be trying to find somebody who could appreciate his art.

Neffie, ever practical, asked "How will we be contacting these people, then? If neither of us can reach one another."

Arkin steepled his fingers and leaned back in his seat. It creaked under his weight, most likely about to break. "Thirteen days from now, The Library will be attacked by a group of Fixers. They will succeed without lasting damage regardless of interference, but it provides an opportunity. If any prominent member of Quartz Office presents themselves outside of the balcony facing the City and offers assistance, they will be accepted. Try to make yourself visible to either a tall woman with red hair or a tired man wearing black. Either will vouch for the reliability of your Office's reputation."

Quint felt an involuntary spark of pride, though he refused to let it show on his face. Quartz Office had been absent from the City for a long time now. He had worked hard to establish them as honourable and trustworthy, only taken contracts from people of integrity, even dressed as soldiers to distance themselves from the petty mercenaries that most Fixers were. When they were exiled, he had expected all of that to have been for nothing.

Tia, of course, made no effort to conceal her emotions. "Well, then! I suppose it falls to me to welcome our compatriots formally to the Outskirts! Don't worry, I'll make a great first impression."

"I'm sure you will." Arkin said with what might have been a smile. "That said, there are some other details that you might all find interesting."

"Of course there are. If you took this long to find that much out, I would be sorely disappointed." Quint grumbled. Arkin's smile only grew wider, cracking the crystalline growths around the edges of his mouth with the sheer breadth of the expression.

"Certainly, certainly. I learned all sorts of things about the people in there. I think you'll be most interested to hear about the Director, though. What I've heard about her… well, it's quite a taboo they got up to."

—————————

This monster was not the Beast.

It was a beast, maybe, if you were to stretch the definition. But not a particularly monstrous one. The strange creature took the form of a colourful wheel with a few furry heads all bearing different styles of plumage. There was a cluster of eyes blinking frantically in its center, and two big colourful plumes trailing off behind it. It looked a bit silly, really. But it still might scare some of the creatures in the forest.

The strange creature looked about frantically. Light poured from its eyes. The bright beams flooded over the pitch-coloured trees and blackened grass, painting them all in a rainbow, but the intended target merely hopped away. A tall Bird with feathers as black as the sky, whose head was wrapped in bloody bandages.

The scale resting on the Bird's neck tilted. Such an act was undoubtedly sinful. The creature must have noticed, because its panic intensified. The Bird stepped forward, closing the distance made by the strange being's flight. Judgement might be scary, they knew that, but you can't just run away from it. It's only right to face your judgement head-on.

A strange shimmer surrounded the creature, and something shifted in the Bird's senses. The sins that they had tallied for the creature had vanished. That couldn't be right? Once a person has committed a sin, it can't be undone. No, the sins weren't gone at all… they had been forced away. Passed off back towards the Bird.

Such foolishness. Sins cannot so easily be escaped. If one were to choose to bear the sins of another, that may be acceptable, but to simply pass them about like they were mere ethereal whims couldn't be.

The Bird stared as another beam of light was fired against their body, this one splashing away uselessly against the judge's scorn. Already, the lingering spots of color they had left behind were being swallowed by the forest.

The scale tilted once again, this time far more heavily. The Bird had seen the strange creature commit many a sin, after all. And there was only one judgement that can be passed when a person is guilty of such great crimes.

The target's strange body shape didn't matter. Nor did their frantic attempts to run away and escape. The gallows rose up and the noose caught around the creature's center, where its eyes sat. Then the stand rose further and the noose tightened, filling the forest's stale air with the sound of strained rope. The noise was cut off by a sudden crack as the creature's core broke apart, scattering its body into meaningless bits of colorful fluff. The few remains fell the the ground before slowly dissolving into crystalline fragments in the air.

The Bird simply stared at the odd sight. It had happened before that somebody who came to be judged by them hadn't left a body behind after they were sentenced, but it was getting more and more common. Perhaps their scale would need readjusting. Or maybe their sight was simply failing? It was worth considering.

And so the Bird considered as they walked away through the forest, leaving the empty gallows behind. A judge's work is never done.

—————————

In a doomed city, beneath a starless sky, there was a great spire of brilliant emerald. It twisted and rose up from the encrusted buildings around it, piercing the city's skyline like an arrow sticking out of a wounded beast. From the gleaming windows to the intricate statues, the structure looked like it could be a part of a castle. The inside, too, were fit for royalty, featuring tables and chairs and all sorts of furniture intricately carved from a rich dark wood and accented with an ominous viridian. But only one room of the was is ever occupied.

The Observation Tower, it was called.

At the very top of the tower, the image of a girl sat in several places. Each image one had their spot on a small stool, staring blankly into space. They weren't really people, probably. They looked like somebody that might be familiar, a Magical Girl who dressed a bit like a pirate, but who could say? Magical Girls were familiar, that was definitely true, but it was impossible to tell if this girl was anyone special. The images certainly couldn't anymore, not the way they were now. They were all just sitting there, blank looks on their faces as they stared out into nothing. Two of them had spyglasses raised up to one eye, mindlessly working their Magic. One of the pair had nearly exhausted herself, their Soul Gem shrouded fully black.

The puppet in the center of the room stumbled over to the doomed image. She (and she thinks that it's she, but it's hard to remember sometimes) reached over the image with her sole functioning arm and plucked the Soul Gem from its body. It didn't react, not even when the puppet crushed the jewel into dust.

The image of the girl tumbled back off of its stool, face no more empty of life than it was before. It shattered into tiny glowing pieces before it could even hit the ground. Another one of the images raised its spyglass up to its eye. The puppet limped back to the center of the room and stopped.

It should have been easier to move around. It must have been at one point, otherwise the puppet wouldn't have thought that this was slower than normal. But it was too hard to recall. It was like her mind was full of holes, and any thoughts or feelings or memories just fell out and disappeared. She couldn't remember how long she'd been here, or why she couldn't move on her own, or what her name was. Those were all important, without a doubt. But they didn't matter now. Not when she couldn't even move her body by herself.

She remembered being afraid of that. Of not having control of her own body. It was the realization that she wasn't even breathing anymore that was the worst. That she couldn't move her legs, that her body was wrong somehow, that she couldn't even choose where to look. It was terrifying, she wanted to scream and cry out for help but her mouth wouldn't move. Now, the feeling was still there, just… fuzzy. Like when you try to look at something too close to your face. She almost wanted to hold onto that feeling, just to have something, but… there was no point. It was better to not be panicking when she couldn't do anything to anyways.

The puppet tried to keep track of what she was made to do. There wasn't much else to look at here. There were those things that look like girls, but they didn't do much. Eventually, their Soul Gems turned black, which was important for some reason that the puppet can't remember. Whenever that happened, the puppet crushed the gem and the person disappeared. Maybe she was killing them, but then they hadn't seemed alive right now anyways. It's been like this for…

For…

It had been a long time.

Time was one of the first things that the puppet forgot. There was no way to measure it in the sterile, stagnant room she was stuck in. Maybe she could try counting the time by when the fake girls shattered. Had she had that idea before and forgotten? Right, she would just forget how she was counting if she tried that. Besides, the puppet couldn't recall how many of the imitations there had been. One had just broken, so and there were five now, so there must have been six before that, but any further back was pointless.

The puppet wanted to slump in disappointment, but couldn't. So she just remained where she was, unblinking. Every once in a while, her head would turn back and forth to check the rest of the room. Oh! The stools! If she counted those, she could know how many people had been sitting here. There were eight to her left, and eleven to her right, so if she added the seven in front of her, there were twenty-six seats total. That meant that there were twenty-six of those mirror people here at one point! Now that she knew that, she could…

She could…

Why was that important again?

The puppet returned to picking through her thoughts, trying to find memories she'd forgotten. Two more of the strange glass people were destroyed when their Soul Gems turned black and the puppet broke them. Time passed, a bit like water filtering through a person's hands. It was quiet.

The monotony ended when the air split apart just at the edges of the puppet's vision. Her head turned involuntarily to stare at the gap in space that had just opened, not that she wasn't curious herself.

Once the tear had opened wide enough, a girl stepped out. Or was woman a better word? They were too tall to still be a child, even if the puppet was taller. Judging by the outfit, they were probably a Magical Girl, too. It was relatively simple, just a plain black dress with white trim and a faint yellow underskirt the same shade as the girl's hair. The only really distinctive feature was the cat-like black and white mask she was wearing.

It actually looked pretty nice. It reminded the puppet a bit of something you'd see at a masquerade ball, not that she'd ever been to one. A mask might've been nice for her costume, too, but the hood had been enough for her at she hadn't really wanted to hide her identity anyways.

Where had that thought come from? The woman was saying something now, but the puppet wasn't paying attention. Had she been a Magical Girl? Yes, that sounded right. But what did it mean? What was a Magical Girl? They wore costumes, and they had Soul Gems, and for some reason they were a secret… and they fought something. The puppet couldn't recall exactly what, but age got this creeping feeling trying to remember. Had whatever she had been fighting done this to her? No, that couldn't be it, there were other Magical Girls here who were still normal.

Looking closer, the shorter girl didn't seem all that happy, though. She was giving orders to more of those fake glass people, guiding them as they trailed into the room and sat at their posts. The woman looked confident, even dismissive of the fakes, but the puppet could tell that was an act. It was clear she was nervous, from the way she kept edging away from the false Magical Girls to how she had not once turned to look at the puppet directly even as she surveyed the rest of the room. She was afraid to be here.

And then, before the puppet could question any further, the gap closed and she was left alone again.

Whew! This one's ever so slightly behind, partly due to the difficult with a certain character's text and partly because I had to clear Canto IV right away to avoid getting spoiled.



"Human Resources" Shouldn't Be This Literal: A PMMM/ProjectMoon Quest