Noirette and Blanchette pressed onward, their footsteps crunching through the underbrush as they veered toward what passed for north in this fractured continent.
The rippling sun hung low on the horizon, its distorted rays pulsing like a faulty lantern, casting elongated shadows that twisted unnaturally across the terrain.
The landscape unfolded in uneven patches—crumbling ruins giving way to dense thickets, occasional clearings scarred by entropy’s touch.
Noirette wiped the last traces of ichor from her face with the back of her hand, the Fallacy Cover still draped around her neck like a trophy, and most importantly, a great tool of survival since Blanchette too barely possess any presence for anything to sniff around.
As they walked, Noirette glanced sidelong at Blanchette, who humd a tuneless lody under her breath, her cloak swaying with each step.
"This mysterious destination we’re heading to—does it have anything to do with that promised training? You know, turning this Shallow One state into sothing stronger, like you covered back then?"
Noirette felt bored as they walked, so might as well annoy her sister about the promise.
Blanchette’s crimson eyes flickered with amusent, her wide smile never fading.
She tilted her head, white hair catching the erratic sunlight. "Hmm~, before I answer that, big sis. Do you have an inkling of what that training might be?"
Before Noirette could retort, the ground ahead shifted into view—a vast expanse that made her pause mid-stride. What stretched before them was no ordinary terrain; a huge patch of land, easily spanning the length of several fields, shimred with that sa pixelated purple glitch texture they’d spotted on the ruined church’s crest.
But this was on a much grander scale, a sprawling corruption that warped the earth into jagged, fragnted blocks.
Grass and soil dissolved into angular voids, edges flickering like static on an old screen, the purple hue pulsing with an otherworldly rhythm.
Trees on the periphery bent unnaturally, their leaves dissolving into digital artifacts that hung suspended before reforming.
The air above it humd louder, a low-frequency drone that set Noirette’s teeth on edge, as if reality itself was buffering, struggling to load.
Noirette stared, her draconic eyes narrowing. "That’s... bigger than before. I’m surprised that there are not many people or organizations trying to cover this anomaly, or at least, put a warning sign sowhere near it."
It seed like it was true to an extent that only Shallow Ones were capable of perceiving this phenonon, allegedly.
Blanchette nodded casually, as if it were a mild inconvenience. "We’ll have to skirt around it. Co on, this way." She veered left, picking a path along the glitch’s ragged border, where the ground transitioned from solid earth to fractured pixels in abrupt lines.
Noirette followed, her curiosity reignited. "Back to your question—I think you’ve implied I’ve already seen or experienced the thod, or at least the essence of what lets a Shallow One grab power sohow?"
Blanchette chuckled, a light, tinkling sound that cut through the drone. "Spot on. You’ve already perford it, in fact."
Noirette raised an eyebrow, stepping over a root that half-dissolved into glitch as they skirted the edge. "You an when I killed that Voidling? The five-headed snake thing?"
"Exactly," Blanchette replied, her voice taking on that lecturing tone again as they navigated the periter. The glitched land lood to their right, its purple expanse crackling faintly, tendrils of distortion licking at the air like curious fingers. "See, being a sapient existence without a Well of the Soul doesn’t an you’re dood to weakness or irrelevance.
"It doesn’t leave you as so hollow shell, drifting without purpose or potential. In fact, that supposed emptiness—the void where the Well should be—creates an opportunity.
"When you leave a spot empty, eventually, sothing else rushes in to fill the role that the Well of the Soul is ant to play in Fathomi’s grand design"
Noirette dodged a low-hanging branch, her boots sinking slightly into the softer soil near the glitch’s boundary. "And that sothing is...?"
Blanchette spread her hands dramatically, as if unveiling a grand secret, her cloak billowing in a sudden gust that carried the static hum from the corrupted land.
"Everything else. The will to topple others, to dominate and reshape what’s in your path. The desire to claim the unclaid—to seize power, knowledge, or even fleeting monts that others overlook. And at the core, the very emotions you portray, the raw drives that fuel your actions.
"It’s not quantified like a Well’s stats; it’s fluid, personal, tied to your essence. When there’s no Well to dictate limits—to say ’your strength is only this high’ or ’your supposed speed potential here’—you tap into sothing primal.
"Your body, your mind, they beco vessels for intent amplified by belief, desire, and emotion~"
Noirette absorbed this, her pace matching Blanchette’s as they curved around the glitch’s vast curve.
The purple expanse seed to pulse in response, as if listening, its pixels shifting in hypnotic patterns that almost ford shapes—half-seen structures, like code compiling in real ti.
"I admitted I didn’t quite catch it fully. Break it down more."
Noirette lied, she just want to see if Blanchette could further jump into this rabbit hole.
Blanchette nodded, undeterred, her enthusiasm building as they trudged on.
The glitch’s drone grew fainter as they gained distance, but its shadow lood large, a reminder of the world’s unraveling seams.
"Alright, let’s get direct~" Blanchette humd. "The way you utilized your past experience against that Voidling—forcing your vessel to mimic your old prowess even when it couldn’t keep up—that’s a pri example.
"You didn’t rely on a Well to grant you strength or speed; you imposed your mory, your will, onto your body. You believed it could perform those feats because you’d done them before, and that belief bridged the gap.
"In the absence of the Well’s rigid frawork, your internal drives beco the new frawork. Will to overco limitations turns into physical might; desire for control manifests as manipulation of surroundings~
"And because there’s no Well to enforce boundaries and potential, the only limit is how deeply you can convince yourself—and the world—that it’s possible."
Noirette flexed her hand, the bulging red veins from her earlier exertion still throbbing faintly, a web of strain that pulsed with each heartbeat. "Sounds empowering, but it’s not all good. Look at this—I’m still suffering the aftermath. Forcing my body like that nearly tore apart."
Blanchette chuckled again, glancing at the hand with a knowing smirk. "True, but you still managed a feat that seed impossible. A normal vessel without proper training or Well of the Soul’s backing shouldn’t decapitate a Voidling head or impale another like that.
"Yet you did. Why? Because you rembered how it felt with your Well, and you willed this body to echo it. The pain? That’s the cost of bridging the gap without a safety net.
"You should realized it right now, the key details that allows you to tap into that possibility~"
Noirette pondered this, the glitch’s periter finally curving away as they cleared its bulk. The land ahead normalized—rolling hills dotted with twisted trees, the rippling sun climbing higher.
"Hmm... When I thought about it more back then, it didn’t seem so impossible after all. Like my body just... caught up because I expected it to."
Blanchette snapped her fingers, the sound sharp and triumphant. "And that’s the key to surviving—and thriving—as a Shallow One~"
"Sounds a bit too anticlimactic." Noirette pouted. "And simplified. It doesn’t really explain much other than what I already knew."
"Well, that is up to your interpretation and experintation~"
"Right, so in the end, I need to find my own thod."
Their conversation lulled for a mont, the path winding through a sparse grove where the air grew thicker, charged with an unseen presence.
Suddenly, a guttural scream shattered the quiet—a monstrous Voidling erupting from the underbrush behind Blanchette, its form a hulking mass of jagged limbs and festering voids, claws extended in a lethal ambush. It leaped, maw wide, aiming to crush her in one savage descent.
Blanchette didn’t flinch. In an instant, a crimson-outlined black smoke coalesced above her—a sapient wolf-like avatar, its form swirling like living shadow edged in blood-red glow.
The entity slamd downward, paws crashing into the Voidling’s skull with bone-shattering force, driving it face-first into the dirt.
Dust erupted, the ground cratering under the impact. Before the beast could recover, the wolf reared, a massive crimson sword materializing in its jaws—ethereal, pulsing with the sa outlined energy—and plunged it downward, impaling the Voidling through its core.
The creature writhed once, voids flickering out like dying embers, before dissolving into harmless wisps, corrupted by whatever was injected by the crimson sword.
Noirette blinked, impressed despite herself. "So, simply believing it’s not impossible lets you do sothing like that?"
"It is the foundation, in a way," Blanchette replied, dusting her hands as if it’d been a minor chore. "And if you want to make it look like a concocted spell..." She snapped her fingers again, and floating circles and runes blood around the fading wolf avatar—intricate glyphs in crimson and black, spinning like a ritual array.
It gave the manifestation the veneer of a proper conjuration, as if drawn from a Well’s skill tree. The runes pulsed once, then vanished with the wolf.
Noirette nodded, connecting the dots. "That’s the sa trick you used when teleporting away from Vaingall, isn’t it?"
Blanchette admitted with a wink.
They continued, the path ascending slightly, the rippling sun warming their backs.
But soon, the horizon bulged with another obstacle—a huge humanoid figure blocking the way, troll-like in its hulking fra, skin like weathered bark etched with scars, eyes glowing with predatory gleam. It lood over the road, a crude sword sheath slung over one shoulder, its presence radiating raw intimidation.
"Halt." The troll stepped forward as they approached, its voice a gravelly rumble. "To pass, pay a Curio Item. This road is mine to guard."
Noirette halted, eyeing the creature’s massive form—easily thrice her height, muscles like knotted roots. "Why? We don’t even have one on us." Acting like the scarf on her neck was not one.
The troll grunted, leaning on its club. "This land is dangerous. I ensure the road stays protected. Repay my efforts by giving Curio Items."
"We’re not locals," Noirette countered, crossing her arms. "Barely used this road once. And we have to pay anyway?"
The troll’s lips curled in a sneer. "You’re paying for future use too. And to stay alive." It lood closer, breath hot and fetid. "Life is priceless, more than any gems or treasures. Why not forsake everything and live, rather than possess and die?"
Noirette sighed, raising an eyebrow. "Are you threatening us right now?"
"Yes," the troll growled, voice dropping to a nacing thunder.
Blanchette piped up playfully from behind. "If you want to try fighting it, it’s extrely strong. Though, it might be a fun challenge~"
Noirette smirked. "Lend a sword or two, then."
Blanchette obliged, snapping her fingers. Right above Noirette, a massive crimson sword materialized—the sa ethereal design as the wolf’s weapon, its blade longer than Noirette was tall, outlined in black smoke and pulsing red.
Noirette grabbed the hilt, surprised. "It’s surprisingly light. Unbelievably lighter than the one I used on that snake Voidling, despite the size."
Blanchette grinned. "Though, why not try seducing the troll to let us pass safely?"
Noirette began brandishing the sword, spinning it experintally, her smile widening.
"I only seduce pretty ladies."
The troll roared, swinging its enormous sword—hidden behind its bulk—in a sweeping arc.
Noirette evaded with a fluid dodge, the blade whistling past.
Seeing her advance, the troll followed up, brandishing a concealed knife behind the swing, thrusting it forward.
But Noirette spun mid-air, parrying the knife with a clash that sparked crimson energy.
The force propelled her upward and forward.
Toward the troll’s face.
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