Veliky is no stranger to combatting peculiar beasts. She's fought walking mining-machines, displacers with the intellect of men, and birds that surged through the clouds like lightning. This two-legged panovore might be a new sight, but it's no different. Adapt and overcome: that's the mission. And already, she's forming a tactical map in three dimensions, calculating a plan of attack. She just didn't expect it'd be one of her allies that she'd need to adapt to.

She only just glimpses Cirice doing something in the corner of her eye. And suddenly, she feels goosebumps raising on her skin as the temperature plummets -- plummets like a stone through silt! She watches, eyes wide with indignation, as the area becomes so cold that frost forms on the glass and snow begins to fall against all reason! Her own breath becomes as opaque as a clay bowl! If she'd ordered a winter wonderland, she'd be pleased; but she did not order a winter wonderland, and she is not pleased.

The bots don't fare well at such extreme climates. In this way, they aren't too different from living people. Yoci says it has something to do with their parts contracting in ways that they aren't supposed to; Veliky doesn't know the science behind it. But she does know what she sees, and she sees the defending Blixtbots™ become sluggish, their parts clicking and grinding even more noisily than usual as even their simplest movements beget ugly shrieks of metal against metal. Truly, Veliky didn't realize that they could be so decisively incapacitated; she'll have to 'thank' Cirice for demonstrating that. And that won't be all that she has Cirice to 'thank' for, as she hears a bone-chilling sound like an eagle's cry on the wind. The monster stands tall, stepping wide over the snowy scape. It was the only creature that *needed* to be weakened, and yet this cold seems to have done nothing to it at all^[1].

"Wonderful, Cirice!" she shouts with vehement sarcasm. "Just fucking perfect!"

Veliky's at least fortunate that she can be warmed by the Envy's fiery mane, but Cheche isn't so lucky. They need to deal with this creature and get into the Containment Sector as quickly as possible. With a kick, she spurs her mount to gallop toward the Blixtbot™ battalion, crying "Open the damned door!" as she does.

Luckily (and perhaps making up for her climatic mistake), Cirice faces off with the towering creature. Veliky would be worried, but she saw the Rogue's handiwork on the night of Winter's Crown; Cirice is more than capable of handling herself. It gives Veliky enough time to reach the barricade, with Envy's flames dancing in front of her eyes. The bots are certainly following her commands; a pair of them have crawled to either side of the massive door, each pressing one hand against a crimson crystal that's set into the wall. The door's starting to open, but even its mechanisms weep in the cold.

They'll need to hold out. But what can they do with a practically incapacitated militia?

"M-M-M-Mis-tress Vel-li-ky...." She looks down from her steed to see a Pawn crawling toward her. It tries to continue its address, but its voice only crackles into silence as the light fades from its eye -- but not before it extends an arm, now frozen in place and clutching Veliky's gun^[2]!

A musket against whatever the hell this thing is? It's a long shot, but it'll have to do. Veliky hangs from the saddle's side and takes the musket by its barrel, ready to get a cartridge from her pocket. But then, a sound like a mountain's sorrow -- a call on the wind that pierces the ears and shakes the soul. The monster raised its head, opened its skeletal jaw and loosed a cry of the tundric wind. Around it, the snow swirls into an arctic vortex, sending a tremendous gust in all directions! Blixtbots™ are flung against the wall like rag dolls! And Veliky, unfortunately, is no more lucky.

She raises an arm to, at least, protect her eyes. But all she feels next, for what feels like an eternity and a split-second all at once, she's sent hurtling through the air, rolling so violently that she loses all sense of where the ground even is -- until she smashes against it. Funny, it feels like it should hurt more; but, now that she no longer feels the heat of Envy's fire, this newfound dimension of chill has left her numb.

Face-down, head throbbing, she can already feel the skin of her cheek adhering to the floor. But weakly, she peels it away to look up. And what she sees is exactly what she wanted not to see -- that monster, towering before her. It clutches the thrashing Envy unit in two hands, and gorges itself on its flank. Veliky's never seen something so voracious, let alone when consuming something of metal. But there's something strange; it isn't doing so with that primal fury it was before. It seems calm, and as cold as the storm that wreathes it like a halo.

But it's distracted. Veliky has time.

Fighting all the stiffness in her bones, she crawls forward. She won't be stopped by this; seeing the musket on the ground in front of her, she retains a flame in her eyes. It hurts badly; she can feel the frost accumulating on her skin. But she makes it. She clutches the firearm by its barrel, drags it toward herself, and struggles to one knee.

In mere seconds, the monster has consumed every last remaining morsel of the Envy. Not a scrap of tin or a fragment of bent steel remains. And, just as before, the monster's flesh expands to grow even taller, and yet no less thin and starved-seeming. Still hungry. Always hungry. It slowly turns its skull down to Veliky, eyes gleaming green with greed.

Veliky stares back, hateful. Her teeth chatter uncontrollably, but still she reaches into the pocket and pulls out a cartridge. Steadying her jaw for just a moment enough, she bites away the paper top. And, with a shaky hand, she flips open the musket's tray as the monster strides toward her.

It's so serene in its gait, as if all her suffering was just a curiosity.

It's only with tremendous struggle that she's able to pour the blackpowder into the tray. Her fingers are freezing; if they weren't gloved, she might see them changing colour. And as quick as her freezing bones can allow, she pours the rest into the barrel and then shoves the cartridge inside. The next step is mercifully simple; no fine movements, just using the rod to ram the cartridge down.

But it takes time. The monster is before her. And it's so much greater than it was before -- it must stand thirty feet at the horns, if not more. This magnitude only makes it gradual descent, like a falling sky, more terrible; it kneels down to one knee, and reaches toward veliky with a gnarled hand. Its claws are so wicked and long, they could pierce Veliky through with ease. The thought of it makes Veliky... scared, in ways she wouldn't speak of. But it also brings her a vengeful heat.

It's done. With an unmoving thumb, Veliky cocks the hammer. With rigid arms, she raises the barrel to point it at the very centre of the monster's chest -- its size only makes it an easier target. And finally, just as its hands comes so close that a claw nearly brush her cheek, she forces a finger to pull the trigger.

"Eat this, pan kien'en...!"

The flintlock ignites. Blazing blackpowder melts the frost on her cheek as a POP resounds in the eardrums! From the barrel comes a puff of fire and smog as gleaming^[3] lead flies through the air! In the time it takes to blink, a hole the size of Veliky's fist is punched through the monster's sternum, piercing a core of ice and leaving irradiated burns upon its flesh! The monster reels back with a cry; it writhes in the agony that Veliky so courteously gave it. Its arms flail and claws thrash; it clutches its chest, as if that would save it. But does not.

Perhaps it was some symptom of its own curse, returning to it. But the monster's flesh, from its frozen heart outward, begins to turn to ice. The ice rises to its neck and crawls its arms until what remains is a massive, agony-carved sculpture of ice.

It's finished. And the satisfaction is warming to Veliky's heart. But they aren't done -- far from it. They need to get inside and warm themselves. Supporting herself on the musket's stock, Veliky looks to the right, grateful (for once) to see that the Blixtbots™ are still putting great effort into opening the door. And then she looks to the left, anxious, to see what became of Cirice and Cheche.

---

1. Cold Immunity (Wendigo)
2. Musket
3. Angelic Light

Let's get this one straight: Cheche doesn't like snow. And that's just to put it mildly. Oh, who are we kidding, she hates it. Well, that's only to be expected: she's a creature of spring and the best environment for someone like her would be that time and place, where everything is radiating life and vitality. And that simply isn't the case now. 
Currently, she's nothing more than a pile of snow, not even a big one. It would look like any other pile of snow to any onlooker, no matter how picky they are, but that one is trembling and acting weird.
Finally, a tiny fist breaks the sparkly crust. It's bluish-green in color and it's shaking violently.  After a little while, a little button of her nose appears, and then the tips of her pointy green ears.  The pile shakes some more and here comes the head with the unkept hair followed by Cheche herself. 
 The pixie is trembling all over. There's a little peculiarity about her though: obviously, she looks cold and thus shivering, however, her face is rather red. It's red....with anger. 'SNOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUGH' - her teeth are screeching and grinding. As quick as lightning, she grabs some snow, makes a ball, and sends it flying towards the biggest goal she has noticed.
Then one more. One more. Quickly, it turns into madness. One has never seen the little one acting like this. Soon enough it gets hard to distinguish her movements or the expression on her face, it's all got blurred. To tell the truth, at that moment Cheche cannot see anything but her aim in front of her, she cannot think either. 'What an ugly snowman' - she thinks, - ' and a big one at that....ah, lemme send one to his face!'. Alas, she never gets the chance to do so:  whether she likes it or not, she has no more energy left. She simply waves her hand once more and collapses. "Avenge me, friends" - she says with a faint voice before falling into a short nap.
 

Cirice had miscalculated. Or rather, she never really calculated in the first place. The cold had iced over and frozen just about everyone and everything.

Except the monster.

The giant monstrosity was unfazed in the slightest and Cirice was backpedaling to try to figure out what to do. Luckily Veliky, as usual, has things well in hand. Despite Cirice’s blundering she managed to defeat the creature.

She looks to her friends and sees the chaos she has wrought. Vel looks like she’s freezing and Cheche is on the ground unconscious. And she can’t stop the storm.

“Shit! I’m sorry! Uhhhhh….” Panic sets in and as the bots are laboriously cranking open the large metal door, fighting the frost that has covered the gears, and she grabs both of her friends, forgetting that Veliky expressly asked her not to pick her up without permission. Once they’re both in her arms she starts running towards the opening door and she slides under the barely open door with her friends safe on her belly. On the other side of the door the snow hasn’t been able to really creep through and its slightly warmer. But that will only last so long. She scoops her friends back up and resumes running, blindly until at last she’s out of the area of the spell.

Huffing she sets Veliky down and cradles Cheche close to her chest. “I’m sorry. Is-is she going to be alright?? She’s still breathing. Please, Cheche I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

Her hands fill with soft lavender light that washes over the pixies in a cool wave. Please work, please work. she feels still alive...

"Wh-what do we do now?"

---

1 Massive healing

...Purring. At the best of times, it's difficult to predict how the pixie is going to respond to anything. These are not the best of times. Now, after receiving a tremendous amount of healing power, Cheche has simply become a little ball of fairy in Cirice's all-too-accepting embrace. Obviously, Cheche is completely satisfied with her current position. But the little bundle that Cirice holds in her other hand, on the other hand, is not. Veliky struggles and writhes, only just breaching from the constrictions of Cirice's silken snare to snarl a "Let go of me, dammit...!" And after another significant PUSH, Veliky launches out of Cirice's grasp and rolls across the floor.

She's quick to rise, and quicker to flare. "I told you not to do that!" she growls with a face as red as a furious apple. Her hotheadedness has rendered her head so hot that it melts to frost off her brow.

"Yeah... I know but like you looked really cold and it was my fault and-and..." Tears spring to the corners of Cirice's eyes, "I just wanted to get you out of there..."

Suddenly, those words change her expression in an extreme twist. The steam that billowed from her ears condenses into a cold sweat as she tries to maintain her bearings. The little woman crosses her arms in some attempt of indignance.

"O-Okay, well, fine. I guess that makes sense. Just don't cry, alright? I need you to keep a clear head."

"R-right..." Cirice wipes the unshed tears from her eyes. "I really didn't mean for this to happen.. I'll make it up to you. Somehow."

There's a twitch in Veliky's brow, and then her façade fades with a sigh. And as the redness subsides, she looks to the right, further into this chamber. This place is different; it isn't full of luminescent walls or glowing sigils. In fact, it looks rather more ordinary than what they were just perilously treading through, save for the flickering lamplights and arcane architecture. In appearance, it's like the highest-security section of a prison -- the sorts that contain mages and other incredibly dangerous individuals -- but with walls and floors of off-white material. The floor is a flagstone with the texture of marble, while the walls are smooth and lifeless. The doors, while not as heavy as the great portcullis that Cirice just slid beneath, seem like they could sustain a rhino's charge -- perhaps more than one. Some of them are great, others small; each one seems purpose-built, but all of them are to contain. It's all strangely quiet, especially compared to the chaos that they just exited...

"Don't worry." Veliky calmly says. "You'll be able to, soon. Now that we're here, we can get what we need and then get out of here. But be warned: especially now, it's crucial that you do only as I say. This area is secured for a reason. Understand...?"

...

...

Receiving no answer, Veliky's inclined (albeit hesitantly) to look back to Cirice and Cheche. And what she sees is exasperating indeed.

After a short and energizing power nap, Cheche feels especially good. She yawns and stretches....yet, that one doesn't go as planned. Apparently, she's been carried. 'Wha? Did I get kidnapped or something?' - she thinks, her eyes open wide and she even rubs them a couple of times to be able to see the culprit better. But what she sees instead is no monster, but rather a familiar fabrique, a part of a slender elbow, and, looking up, she finally sees the silver threads of hair. 'Ah, everything is okay, I see. It's Cirice. All goodie then...' - she closes her eyes again. And why not? It's comfy and her legs are killing her so... She even starts pouring out of habit. Somehow, she manages to fall asleep again. And upon coming to her senses, they are already at another place. 
It's a corridor of sorts, however, this time there's no glow, no fancy panels. It looks rather severe, slightly menacing even. Cheche frowns and...her stomach rumbles. The sound is so loud that it rolls along the mysterious hall akin to thunder. Cheche gasps and tries to hide her embarrassment by throwing even harder. 'Look at me, oooh how serious I am. Ah, stupid tummy, why did you have to betray me like this? They haven't heard, right?'- she blushes, glancing at the two, clutching on her faint hope. Nah, judging by the accelerated winking, the rumble was heard loud and clear. Cheche is left gawking at what happens next: absolutely out of nowhere, Cirice pulls out a blanket. 'Huh? Was my tummy THAT loud? Does she want to mute me somehow?' - Cheche shivers at the thought. Luckily, she's mistaken. The blanket is meant for some other purpose. It is spread on the cold grey tiles of the floor. 'Ah, it's for comfort. I guess, we are going to have a break of sorts' - she nods and looks expectantly at what's going to happen.

The sound of hungry tummies is unfortunately one Cirice is rather familiar with. She’s spent time with the poor and hungry in the slums of Sol City and on the road. Luckily, she is always prepared for just such an occasion!

She takes a quick look over at Veliky and determines that even if she makes it to the end of the hallway they can catch up. So she winks at Cheche and pulls out picnic blanket out of her bottomless bag and with a flourish and a glow of lavender light it spreads out on the austere floor and is covered with a banquet of Crescent Isles delicacies, mostly sweets¹.

She holds her finger to her lips and sets Cheche down on the blanket and settles down next to her to have a quick tea party of sorts before more danger and excitement can entangle them.

---

1 Grand Feast

Alas, not only is Veliky fully aware of what Cirice and Cheche are doing, she *has* been for the entire time. She hasn't even taken a step. And now, seeing an actual, real picnic happening in the most secure part of the facility, with screams and alarms resounding from other sectors, Veliky can only sigh in mental exhaustion.

"Whatever. Just be quick."

Not altogether sure if either Cirice or Cheche heard her (and not altogether caring), Veliky moseys to the gap in the great containment door. Cold winds and snow still below through, chilling through her. She peeks outside, where the Blixtbots™ -- though far from at full functionality -- do persevere.

"Close the door and maintain your positions. If anything changes, I'll be in contact."

It's faint in the gale, but she hears a harmonious chirping from the constructs gathered. Even if the storm fetters them greatly, they will still form a daunting bastion -- and the blizzard itself, too, can act as a defense. And as she turns away, the door begins to grind closed.

Now, to wait... for Cirice and Cheche to be done.

---

Twelve feet wide, seven feet tall. The metal door is cold, silent, and utterly monstrous -- so much so that calling it a 'door' seems somehow inglorious. There's no gap or divide to be seen: no knob, no handle, no obvious means of it being opened. And it stands menacingly, before the trio. It's one of the most impenetrable doors that they've seen as Veliky led them down the halls of this beyond-maximum-security sector. All that blemishes its smooth dull-grey hull is a great sigil, arcane-blue in hue, depicting a circle with nine arrows piercing it.

This is where they stop, and here is where Veliky steps forward. Before the edifice of an entryway, she's utterly dwarfed. Yet she looks up to it, calmly.

"Six inches of steel. Over twenty-two-thousand pounds, in all, and sealed with both unbreakable mechanisms and powerful wards. A giant could take a hammer to it and work for hours, but they'd barely make a dent. In terms of security, this is one of the strongest doors in all of Charon." She allows the words to linger for a moment. Her voice carries a pointed tone, meant to convey something -- but what it is, isn't exactly clear. But it raises a question, nonetheless: what could be behind this door, to warrant such impossibly high security?

"...Let's get it open. Stand back."

Standing before the door's steel impiercability, Veliky raises her right hand. Sigils appear on the back of her glove, as if she were casting a spell; she taps them with her finger, the sigil reacting to her touch with a precision that only hints at the complexity of what arcane mechanisms she uses. By the time she's finished, the sigil has taken a new shape: a circle with ten arrows piercing it. She raises her hand, displaying this new image to the sigil on the door, and waits a moment...

The sigil on the door becomes dull. In thundering sequence, a dozen latches unseal themselves at the bottom of the door. And with a great grinding of mechanisms that could crush a spine with ease, the door rises slowly and on its own. It takes some fifteen seconds for it to open fully, setting into its rest at the top of the archway with a ker-chunk, at which time the room that Veliky has led them to -- the reason she invited Cirice here at all -- can finally be seen.

Fickle light from the hall pours in through the chasm, clashing against a turquoise glow that suffuses the chamber beyond. This room is surprisingly small and more-surprisingly innocuous. There are desks and chairs at either side, but the centre of the room is an open space of dull-grey flagstone. But the anomaly that does draw eyes is a glass wall on the opposing side from the entrance, through which a tiny and cell-like chamber can be seen, walls white and smooth. The glass radiates with tangible mana... but the door into the cell is wide open.

Veliky dashes into the room but stops in the centre, eyes wide in and brow furrowed in visceral fury. "What the hell?! That's impossible! No, it HAS to be here! DAMMIT!"

Her anger fills the room as this glow settles on her matching eyes and clashing, green garb. The anger, clear by the redness in her face, is far greater than before, but of a different kind -- a kind that's sparked by panic, not vexation. She runs a gloved hand through her hair.

"No... No, the containment gate was sealed. It's in here. But where?"

Suddenly, her contemplation comes to a stop. And then, slowly, she turns to one of the walls, where there is another door -- a wooden one, not nearly so secured as the others in the facility and much less the one that led into this room. It's closed; but, from the tiny gap that separates it from the floor, a white glow softly shines.

Her anger fades. And, in its place, a cold focus. One after another, she makes cautious steps toward this doorway. There's a sound from beyond; it's difficult to describe, except as something so abstract and fictional as flowing starlight. But there's also something more mundane: a gentle slllup of a single sheet of paper being flipped...

"...Cirice, Cheche, I need you to stay as quiet and still as possible." Her warning isn't quite as quiet as a whisper, but it's clear she doesn't want to be heard by anyone except those two she speaks to. Her expression holds the silent conviction that it always does -- when there is something truly dangerous. Her stance is stoic and precise as she glares at the door; and then, as if it were commanded to do so by her simple gaze, the door slowly opens^[1]. And what lies beyond is something truly strange.

A mote of light shimmers in the dimness of this tiny archive. And around this scintillating mote, hovering in the air like the sun itself, float a half-dozen books and binders. One of the books is open, and the mote somehow seems to focus on it, shining its light upon words that cannot be read from where the trio stands.

Moments pass in silence. And then, as if by an invisible hand, the book's page is flipped to the next. And then, to the next. All as the lone mote watches and learns.

Veliky's eyes don't move from this mote of light. They don't even blink. They stare with absolute, unbreaking focus. This is what they came for; she won't let it out of her sight.

"This..." she says, quietly and without so much as a movement, "is why I brought you here, Cirice. This is an origin matter -- or at least, what's left of it. We were able to capture it, but only after it destroyed an entire squad of Blixtbots™ and nearly killed both me and a Silovik operative."

It isn't clear whether the matter hears her or not; just as her focus doesn't break from it, its focus remains on the book. But as it reads, another tome levitates from a shelf, as if clutched, and joins the orbit of information around the glimmering light.

"After the events with the Sol Stone, all known instances of origin matter were sent into a frenzy. But nobody knows why; some only theorize a connection with Ziev. We wanted to finally get answers from this one, as this's the only documented instance in all history of an origin matter being kept in captivity. It could very well be the key to understanding all of these changes happening in the world: the earthquakes, the incursions, the shattering of the Sol Stone, and what Scern said about other worlds. Unfortunately, it hasn't been cooperative... And that's why I brought you. I hoped you'd be able to get through to it, because... Well, you got through to me."

Her tone holds a degree of resignation, as well as a very rare drop of warmth.

"Obviously, plans have changed. First priority, now, is getting it out of here safely. But to do that, we'll need it to be cooperative. And in that regard..." She crosses her arms, staring with deathly seriousness. "I am open to suggestions."

---

1. Minor Trickery

'Quiet. What does it mean again? Can I still crunch that carrot? Should be fine, right? Well, and probably, humming would also be okay. It's just..the carrot is good and the mood has been just right..mmm-mm-mmmmm' - Cheche slowly paces behind the two, swaying her head back and forth, her movements matching the music currently playing in her head. 
She remains completely unaware of the glances and groans Veliky sends her way, as well as everything else happening around her.  Once she has successfully eliminated the carrot, she finally raises her head and looks around. Her curiosity catches the sparks, and she cannot hold the gasp of admiration: "whoah! pretty! what is this cute little disco ball?" She elbows her way towards the shiny lightning hanging in the air and extends her hand to touch it...' what would it feel like? is it like jelly? can you eat it? is it cold? is it hot?' - away with these thoughts. One should be brave when the decision has been made. And so, Cheche landed a touch. Surprisingly, it didn't feel like anything in particular. Maybe, slightly cold and tingling. Feeling somewhat disappointed, Cheche yawns and steps aside from the tiny orb looking at Cyrice."It's your turn to play now, big sis"

“Origin Matter?” Cirice asks, dropping her voice the smallest amount, which is to say barely at all. “One of Ziev’s balls, erm, eyes?” She corrects herself quickly. “I fought one of them! With Cyran! I kind of absorbed it! I could try that again maybe… If this is just the center does that make it Ziev’s pupil? Wait no that makes it sound like its a student… Oh Cheche be careful, it could suck you in!”

She frets as the little pixie curiously flits right up to the glowing mote of space dust and casually touches it. And… Nothing happens. She sighs in relief. Maybe the center doesn’t have the full abilities the full creature(?) had… But that could have been scary.

“Bweh?” She blinks as Cheche calls her big sis, her cheeks deepening into a blush the color of a fresh bruise. “Big sis? Awwww Cheche!”

She scoops the fairy into her arms and snuggles her close, completely forgetting the orb of dubious power and danger and focusing on the cute little bean that has just become family.

“Yay the family grows!” She squeals happily, “I’ll have to get you a present! And take you to meet Cyran and Cash and well everyone!!!”

She looks over at Veliky with a joyful smile as she gushes, another member of the her beloved found family. What a wonderful day!

"..."

Seeing this transpire, Veliky has to think. And after that, she has to think a little harder. And then it comes to her to think as hard as she possibly can. But no, she cannot think of any two people that would be worse for this sort of operation.

She crosses her arms and lets out an exasperated huff. Alarms blaring in the distance, screams down the hall, and an entity from beyond the known universe hovering *right beside them*, and these two are hugging. Honestly, she wasn't sure what she expected, given their respective track records.

But it's fine, of course. Evidently, the origin matter poses no immediate threat; it didn't even react when Cheche touched the damn thing. She'll need to have Cheche undergo decontamination and a physical examination, but that'll come later.

For now, it's fine. Yes, it's perfectly fine that they're hugging in front of her. After all, there's nothing intrinsically *wrong* with hugging. It's a perfectly modest means of expressing affection. It's socially, legally and financially acceptable, and it's a perfectly ordinary thing to do. And obviously, there's no reason that they'd invite Veliky to join them, nor is there a reason that Veliky should expect or want such an invitation in the first place, so their blatant display of affection in clear sight of her is a perfectly reasonable and blameless act. It's just...

'Do they... have to look so happy about it...?' Veliky wonders, sneaking more than a couple peeks as the violet-tinged business associate^[1] and the olive-hued acquaintance^[1] share gleeful grins and squish their contrasting cheeks together. Then she lets out another sigh, this one slightly more forced than the last.

But there's something else happening, somewhat more foreboding. It's subtle: it can't be seen in the matter itself, for its entire being is an eye, but it can be seen in the way that the hovering books and binders seem to be pushed aside for a moment. The matter's focus is changing -- turning, until its glow falls on the two embracing fae.

And then, like a call from beyond the cosmos, a disparate voice coalesces into words.

"...What are you doing?"

---

1. Smooth Talking

" What do you mean? Hugging, dummy. Wait, let me show you..." - it's hard to say why she isn't all that surprised. Cheche, were she asked about it, wouldn't be able to answer. It's just, Cyrice is so warm, and it's kind of soothing. And when it's soothing, Cheche feels drowsy. And when she's drowsy, she is not curious or surprised. So, one thing leads to another and...the yawning pixie is already stretching her hands to hug the orb. It is not all that feasible though. I mean, it is kind of difficult to hug the glowing thing. But Cheche does her best, as she always attempts to. It's as cool as ever, yet the tingling seems to increase. 'What, is it shy?' - she thinks. And a moment later the pixie lets go saying: "Here you go, buddy". Then she makes a little nest on the floor and curls up. It's high time for her day nap.   She feels warm and cozy, nothing worries or disturbs her, not a thing in the world. Two seconds and three milliseconds later all her companions can hear a light snoring sound. 

Cirice was not sure of what Cheche was doing hugging the Origin Matter, especially with Veliky RIGHT THERE. She looks sad that she wasn’t included but she’s trying not to show it. As Cheche starts falling asleep she scoops Veliky into their group hug.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of the love Vel-kun!” Cirice giggles, snuggling her in tightly. “I didn’t know the Ziev eyes could talk! Hello little light friend!”

“Vel you seemed so concerned about them but look they just want to read! Let’s take them back to the wagon and show it my library!”

As gently as a half-awoken spouse's cuddles at the first morning light, the matter-orb is palmed through the air without so much as a wind of resistance. The books and binders remain in their place, hovering delicately and orderly, but also with a certain lackadaisishness, turning idly in the air. Now snuggled between Cheche's burlap tunic and Cirice's silk blouse, the matter's membrane has the texture of glass -- glass that is somehow both infinitely hot and infinitely cold, creating a cosmic equilibrium that neither burns nor chills. Wherever they touch it, there's a simultaneous numbing and flushing in their skin, as if their energy were being siphoned out and replaced with equally impossible rapidity; and that ultra-pure-white plasma dances on the orb's interior, like the hand of a loved one pressing against the other side of the window. It's a tiny miracle, a concentrated sphere of the farthest maximums of every energy in the universe, to the absolute concave of negativity and the true convex of positivity, all contained inside something that can be held in one or two hands.

And they're hugging it. And Veliky cannot believe what she's seeing.

...She's not mad^[1]. Of course she isn't mad^[1]. She's just baffled^[1] -- truly, utterly baffled. And she isn't just baffled by Cirice and Cheche's exemplary lack of any existential fear of consequence, but by the origin matter's apparent apathy or -- logic forbid -- acceptance toward this absurd course of action. If nothing else, they've proven that this thing isn't an immediate threat, and she supposes she can appreciate that sort of trailblazing (even if its methodology and heedlessness are to be condemned). But she truly cannot wrap her head around their reasoning! She can only stand there and watch, eyebrow twitching from the stray neurological charges that shoot off as she makes an attempt to process it. She'd only just come to mental grips with the fact that they were hugging in the middle of a facility that's currently overrun with monsters from alternate dimensions, and now they're hugging one of those monsters? And as was established, she'd obviously have no reason to accept an invitation into this hug if she were given one^[1], but there's a distinct logical fallacy here in the fact that, between an organic half-halfling and a miniature galaxy, they opted to cuddle the cosmos.

But it's fine^[1]. Perfectly fine^[1]. She crosses her arms and taps her foot, face red and brow furrowed. She'll just have to... wait. For them to finish. Hugging. And to that end, she thinks that there might be some progress when Cheche huddles up and returns to her little slumber. This must be... the second time now? Veliky thinks it may've happened at some point on the walk here, as well. But surely it means that they're done, right?

No, it doesn't. As Veliky's looking at Cheche, she doesn't notice Cirice's arm hooking gently around her, and her face twists into some combination of anger and shock as she's pulled into the hug as well, head rested delicately on Cirice's chest and cheek rubbing perplexingly on the glassy exterior of the origin matter.

"Wha- H-Hey!" she protests in outrage, but it's far too late. As has happened much more than Veliky would ever admit in the time that she's known Cirice, she's been drawn into the snuggle snare.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of the love Vel-kun!”

Cirice's voice rings out so playfully, like a little bell on a cat's collar, but it has Veliky's eyes widening in shock. "I-I wasn't thinking about tha-!^[1]" Her lie is cut short as she's fully smothered in the smooth silk of Cirice's blouse. Muffled protests continue, but none reach the moon elf's pointed ears as her eyes shimmer in the matter's pure-white glow.

“I didn’t know the Ziev eyes could talk! Hello little light friend! Vel you seemed so concerned about them but look they just want to read! Let’s take them back to the wagon and show it my library."

As Veliky continues to struggle and groan, the tiny existence shimmers with cerebration. Sparkling motes within revolve like the figures in an orrery, aligning in no fewer than three different ways before that voice -- androgynous, emotionless, ageless and neutral all other ways imaginable -- echoes into reality again.

"Library? What is this word? There is something that you wish to show this one?"

---

1. Smooth Talking