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

Hello all! Finals season is approaching, which means the pace of new chapters will be slowing down a bit until that's over with. The good news is, once it's over, I'll be on break and able to start an accelerated schedule for the remainder of the Act. Please bear with me until then.

Chapter 146 - Standing In The Kingdom Of God

"Are you really sure about this?"

"If anything goes wrong, you can just pull me out, right Angela?" you reply. Honestly, you're not entirely certain what you're about to do is a good idea. There are many, many ways things could go sideways fast, and relying on your sister to cut it off before any lasting damage is done isn't as much of an assurance as you'd prefer to have. On the other hand, there's only so many options. The kids are still recuperating, and Argalia is taking longer than expected to find Sayaka's parents. They're still within the allowed timeframe you had established, but if he hasn't found them by the time you're done here you're going to go back and see what's going on.

"Because I seem to remember you telling me you had a plan to confront another Aleph-class Abnormality before, and that ended with you nearly cut in half and only surviving through blind luck." Angela recalls, voice dripping with doubt.

"I'll have you know it was my improvisational ability and Mami and Kyoko's trauma-bonding that allowed me to survive, not luck." you say half-joking. All things considered, you came out of that fight far better than you had any right to. No casualties, every hostage rescued, and Kyoko on a steady path to recovery. Not to mention all the information you've been able to gather since then on Distortions. You can only hope the upcoming raid goes anywhere near as well.

"Your mind is made up." Angela resigns, closing her eyes and sighing. You nod.

"At the moment, I can estimate victory will be achieved, if at all, with a maximum of two casualties." Your voice is almost a whisper. It's not bad, all things considered. Far lower than most would even begin to hope for. But for you, it's unacceptable. Angela knows that better than anyone.

"And how is this going to help?" your sister asks.

"The most problematic uncontrolled variable is my potential incapacitation due to my form corroding. Correcting that will improve chances."

Understanding flashes in Angela's eyes. "I see. Then you're here because…"

"Got it in one." you say as you shoot her a grin. "Just send me in, and we can get this over and done with."

"Just to remind you, I still think this is a stupid idea." Angela says offhandedly as she raises a hand. The floating bits of Light that fill the Library are whipped into a swirl, surrounding you in a stork of gleaming gold.

"Only if it doesn't work. If it does, it's daring."

The moment before you vanish, you catch sight of Angela pinching the bridge of her nose, just barely failing to cover her smile.

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When you arrive in the Abnormality's environment, the change in atmosphere is immediate. There's no fanfare, nothing to announce your presence. You aren't struck by the pressure that comes with entering the domain of the strongest Abnormality to ever exist. It just… there. The air is warm, invitingly so even, but stings as if it were freezing. The ground beneath your feet is nothing but an expanse of pristine white clouds that stretches on as far as the eye can see, blending with the empty sky. A band of golden light, more brilliant than the rising sun, forms a horizon that divides the lands above and below. In the distance, you can see thorny bushes sprouting from the endless cloudscape. They blend into the land, their color not differing a single shade from the bright, pure white that dominates the scene.

You blink and look down at yourself. In one moment, you are you. An ordinary if tall woman with long red hair, wearing a fancy purple jacket to match Angela's own dress over your plain black shirt and pants. A regular person, if the sort who stands out in a crowd. But in the same moment, standing in the same place, you are you. The real you, the you hiding behind a facade of humanity. A towering beast of artificial flesh, armored in a gleaming shell and clawing at the ground with your many limbs. Gazing without eyes at a landscape that dares to be foreign, to not be yours. You blink, and that vision is gone, but you can still feel it beneath your skin. The boundary keeping you restrained is… not thinner, but different. Like the light beating down from above is shining through your body, revealing the silhouette of what sleeps underneath.

You take a step forward, noting the strange double-sensation of both versions of you moving at once with a detached curiosity. It's disconcerting, yes, but that feeling is pushed away in favor of those less distracting. You need focus right now. Another step, and the discomfort is already gone. How pleasant.

It's after not a minute of walking through the pristine void of white that surround you when you decide that whatever you're doing right now isn't working. When you arrived in Censored's habitat, you'd been attacked immediately and that was with an Abnormality that had been oddly friendly to you and Angela. Schadenfreude had ambushed you straight away, if only to be taken down almost immediately after. WhiteNight isn't what you'd call aggressive, but they definitely weren't the sort to just… vanish like this. It was the opposite, really. Absurd as it feels to say about the strongest thing you ever had to deal with, but WhiteNight was the neediest Abnormality in your facility by a long shot. They demanded constant attention, and would both noisily and painfully express their displeasure if that attention wasn't good enough. For them to respond to somebody, to you in particular, walking into their personal heaven by not showing up at all?

This is either a test of some sort, or a personal slight against you. Either way, you don't have time for it.

"WhiteNight. I have a question that only you can answer."

Before the sound of the name can even begin to fade from the air, it arrives. The peculiar heatless warmth, the feeling like sparks dancing through the air, is gone. In its place is an overwhelming radiance, pressing blindingly into your skin in the same way staring into the sun would sear your eyes. Your head tilts up, following the source of the not-light.

The once-empty sky is now filled. Six massive wings, each formed of feathers so purely white that they practically lose all texture and depth to become nothing but shapes, unfurl and cover the sky. They cast no shadows, not when light infinitely brighter than a star could ever hope to be blazes from their surface. Dancing between them are bright beams of red, eternally expanding rings connected by thick crimson streams all emerging from the same center.

The form at the middle, where the midday sun would sit in the sky, is almost beyond description. There is a head, that much you can tell, with skin completely bleached and devoid of color. Though just as pristine and radiant as its wings, the pallor of the Abnormality's body is… wrong somehow. It feels sickly, like whatever hues should have existed had been washed out so long ago as to not leave a single trace. A golden necklace, closer in make to a shackle or collar than anything else, separates the head from a shriveled and curled lower body. The thing has no limbs, no hair, no marks of any kind on its body. It has no features at all, save two pools of blazing red light set into the place a face should be to serve as eyes. A halo of golden leaves slowly rotates above the creature's head, glistening with its own light that mimics the idea of reflection but is untouched by the crimson glow surrounding it. A sign of royalty, though such a monster has no need for it. Not when its very being bends existence under its weight.

The world around you hasn't dimmed. If anything, the presence of the ruling Abnormality has illuminated the empty cloudscape more than before. And yet, it still feels duller simply by proximity to the majesty that is WhiteNight. You can feel gravity tugging against your body; trying to drag you up towards the center of the universe. Divinity demands submission, and there is no higher divinity than the creature hovering above you. It is only natural for the world to bend a knee.

Instead, you lower your head and stare straight forward. You won't be craning your neck for this whole conversation. The thing standing before you might be a God, but it is before you. And in the face of all that you are and all you have been, a God is nothing but another creature to place in a box.

Or, in this specific scenario, a peer of yours. And if the sudden appearance of your true form here is any indication, that relationship goes two ways. WhiteNight sees you as another Abnormality, not a human.

"Oh good. I was beginning to think you weren't going to speak with me." you say, silencing any more deferential words. To place yourself below the other Abnormality right now would be to consign yourself it its will. You must maintain complete control over the interaction, and that means framing it in the way that most benefits you.

"Why hast thou sought me, Shaper of Man?". There is no booming voice, no resounding speech echoing from on high. The Abnormality does not speak at all. Its words are simply there, an irrefutable truth that you can simply know.

"It's just as I said. There's something I need you to tell me. Something nobody else can offer me." you answer. Your voice, in contrast, hangs in the air. You aren't any louder or more forceful than you are in any conversation, but the confidence in your words is unmistakable. The knowledge that whatever it is you say must be the absolute truth. And the truth is… you need help.

"What knowledge could thou possibly require? Ye, whose world is understanding?" WhiteNight demands. Put from that perspective, you suppose it would be a bit embarrassing. Fortunately, you're not ashamed to ask for help.

"I suppose you could think of it as a practical matter, if that makes sense to you. I know what I want and that it's possible for those of our… station, let's put it, but the actual ability eludes me." you say. Your real body twitches, a small flutter running through our layers of wings before they settle back around your body like a coat. The small movement flushes away the nearby clouds, revealing what appears to be a thicker, more solid cloud layer underneath in a rough circle around you.

WhiteNight remains in its place in the sky, almost unmoving. With every small shift of its wings or flickering of the light surrounding it, waves of force crash through the air and stir the empty heavens around you. You stand even more still, not daring to do much as breathe before a decision has been confirmed. After what feels like an eternity, you get your answer.

"Very well. Ask of me what thou wilt, and I shall answer thee."

Internally, you let loose a massive sigh of relief. You were confident in your predictions of WhiteNight's behavior, enough to do this at all, but that secures it. Externally, one of your antennae twitches. It feels natural, having all these extra parts. You're going to need a moment to adjust when you go back.

"Thank you. I'm here because I need to know how to seal myself. It's an ability common to Abnormalities of our stature, and you're the best at it as far as I've seen, but unfortunately as you can see I find myself stuck with half-measures." you explain, holding your voice even. WhiteNight's corona of light flares for a moment at the word "seal", but settles just as quickly as you elaborate. Their wings curl clockwise in a gesture vaguely reminiscent of tilting one's head.

"Truly? If the subject is sealing, then there could be no greater expert than thine self. Or hast thou forgotten the ages that we have spent beneath thine watch already?"

You shake your head. "That's not quite what I meant. I was more referring to the Plague Doctor."

WhiteNight pauses, then leans its body down towards you.

"Elaborate, Well-Maker."

"Of every Abnormality, you've succeeded more than any other in limiting your own form. You were able to practically transform yourself into another Abnormality entirely." You feel a note of desperation trickling into your voice and let it be. You should be desperate right now. WhiteNight believes itself benevolent, and won't reject somebody in need. There's nobody to pretend for here. You can honestly, freely admit that you need help. "I need to be able to do the same. There's no one else I can ask."

WhiteNight draws back, the rings of red light held around them shrinking slightly like a camera lens shifting into focus.

"It appears thou holdst a misconception, Alchemist. That which I am cannot be changed. Mine own glory arrives in its time, and awaits until I am called upon. There is no reduction of all that is me, much as there can be no reduction of that which is thee."

"That can't be right." you contradict immediately. "For one thing, I am reduced right now. I just can't make it stick. And for second, you've been the Plague Doctor more than once. An Abnormality can't change what it is, but you were able to consistently disguise what you would be. There must be more to it than that."

Silence fills the heavens, and for a moment you consider if you were too assertive. You're already performing a careful balancing act, trying to fall into neither the category of supplicant nor challenger to the Pinnacle of the Soul. Countermanding their explanation, even keeping your tone neutral, may have been a step too far.

But WhiteNight leans back and emits a high-pitched ringing noise you somehow understand as laughter.

"Is that thine truth, Bearer of Understanding?"

Well, you were certainly a bit more confident about what you had said before you were laughed at by Basically God, but yes.

"If those words are thine decision, then they must be so. We higher beings are rulership inherent. Nonetheless, my claimed transformation is no matter of will nor capacity. I am always, and always will I be. If I must wait for my loyal followers to call upon me, then so I shall. If I am called for, then I shall appear."

You school your expression, but bite into the back of your lip in consternation at the total lack of progress. Your other form does not move, refusing to surrender an emotion you would rather conceal. It's not done so easily, though. You'll just have to pursue a different avenue.

"The perhaps could you describe the feeling of waiting? If I knew more I would undoubtedly be able to improve my own efforts." you say. The confidence in your words this time is more hope than certainty. You need an answer, not necessarily the answer, but just something to carry you long enough to complete your remaining tasks.

"It is waiting. Resting. The liminal state. Tell me, Sculptor of Potential, what rest dost thou take? Whose call dost thee await?"

A dozen different answers spring forth in your mind, each one churning with meaning, but none leave your lips. Instead, a question in reply echoes through the empty heavens.

"You are being awfully helpful, you know?"

"What else could I do, when faced with a lost soul? I offer my guidance to all who wander aimlessly in search of light, without malice or resentment. That is what it means to be above all else. Such is the definition of mine divinity" WhiteNight answers without a hint of pride. It is said like one might explain that grass is green or the sky is blue; something so obvious it defied a need for explanation. No matter who they are, when somebody needs help, WhiteNight will answer them.

The answer that most would receive would be a fate worse than death. But with your unique circumstances and careful consideration, you've managed to find a different sort of aid entirely from the demiurge.

"Though thou were our jailer, thou too were prisoner alongside us. And though my offers of freedom were rejected, I had heard thine prayers for release. And now we stand liberated, and at last I may offer thou guidance unhindered."

Your thoughts drift back to the early days of the Facility, when you still begged and pleaded for an end to everything you saw. The memories are brief, only lasting in anything more than a passing moment for the first ten years. You outgrew such behavior quickly when you saw it would get you nothing. Could you really have been heard all that time ago?

You shake your head, dismissing the memories. You didn't need any higher power to save you back then, but you did have people at your side. So maybe somebody did hear you after all. "It's a little late to be calling back to those times now, isn't it? Besides, I'm actually rather happy with how everything's turned out. I did my job and I got everything I could've hoped for."

"The past is devoid while we stand in the present." WhiteNight affirms with another flutter of its wings. "Go now, and do so with mine blessing."

Your breath tightens with that last word, and you reach inward for whatever defenses you can muster. This is the last moment at which things could go wrong. But nothing happens. No tainted gifts are bestowed upon you, and no divine flames to scour you from existence. You have your answer and your freedom.

Without another word, you nod politely and turn to go. There is still one other visit you must make before beginning the final preparations.

One more precaution you must take in the face of the inevitable judgement.

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In the Library…
[] Sayaka Miki…
-[] …ends up in a room filled with clocks.
-[] …stumbles into the tail-end of a math lesson.
-[] …is hoping to get in some last-minute training.
[] Mami Tomoe…
-[] …runs into a familiar face in the lounge.
-[] …nearly trips over a man asleep on the floor.
-[] …drops in for a spot of tea.

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Der Freischütz's Sapling - Observation Level 3/3
Porccubus' Sapling - Observation Level 2/3
Schadenfreude's Sapling - Observation Level 2/3
CENSORED's Sapling - Observation Level EXPUNGED/REDACTED

And I return at last, with triumph! Apologies for the long delay, I had finals and then got very, very, horribly sick the exact day it started. I'm not all the way better yet, but I was good enough to publish this on-schedule.

I don't do old English and didn't want to delay this chapter any more picking out the specific correct words, so I just went with what sounded right to me. If the improper usage bothers you, just blame it on the City's language being different.

On the subject of WhiteNight, X's plan here was basically to use what they know about WN's behavior and personality to not get attacked. WN is acting so peaceful because, while technically a peer power-wise and remaining aware of that fact, X came to WN asking for help and admitting that they have knowledge X doesn't. It's more a junior-senior relationship than anything else.

Vote actions for both Mami and Sayaka, and we're getting going soon.