Hey guys! I'm back with another chapter!

Ib: It's been... about a month.

Don't blame me… I couldn't get anything running in the story…

Ib: And yet you finally got a plot line today? I was pretty sure you wanted to write this chapter…

Okay, you got me. I've started poly a month back and was learning the basics of making a game. But nevermind my life now, it's so great now. I'm glad I chose game designing as my diploma!

Ib: But you won't be able to write chapters as quickly.

So we shall learn to take in every free time we have to get a chapter up. From the bus journey to the hour-long breaks between classes! –continues ranting on and on-

Ib: -sweatdrops- enjoy the story while he runs his mouth.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what's wrong, Mr Weiss."

"It's fine… I don't understand it myself, which is why I sought your help."

"Then I guess the expectations of me is too high."

"No, its fine, I am not able to make heads or tails of this absurd story, or even who Ib is…"

"Ib, as you named it, may be the character of your humanity, you see yourself as more inexperienced, more scared of things you do not know…"

"I know… but maybe… maybe Ib could be alive somewhere."

"I do not know either, your own mind is repressing some memories, memories that hold key to the answer. I would suggest you to a hypnotist to find out what you are trying to forget."

"Yes… Maybe I should… The person inside of me must have supressed them in fear, but I don't not want that. It's scarier to not understand it."

"Then, Mr Weiss, I think you've found your answer."

"Yes, thank you. Sir."

Guertena Weiss is no easy man to get surprised. He created the Fabricated World, allowed three paintings into the real world as an experiment, and offered to teach a fellow artist his style of reanimating art.

However, said artist took in his teaching like a fish to water. Within an hour of giving her the bare basics, young Ib has already manage to connect a portal to the real world.

While Guertena gaped as the numerous attempts Ib had created. Ib was at a corner, frowning. Each attempt to draw a man she has envisioned in her mind was suddenly cut off and replaced by some idea. She frowned at herself for getting easily distracted, this wasn't how she was.

This time… This time I'll finish it!

First, start off with the basic shape of the head…

Wait… wouldn't that shape make a perfect Orange?

Ignore those thoughts, start drawing down the purple strands of hair…

Hey, it reminds me of an upside-down rose… Only it would be blue and-

Shake away those thoughts, start with the eyes and mouth…

I think it looks better without a body…

Start drawing the body.

The neck is too thick, the shape makes him look fat…

Add in the tattered cloak.

He he, it looks pretty cool without a body, we should stop here…

Remove those thoughts, draw the plain green singlet and pants…

I'm pretty bad at drawing shoes, though…

Guertena looked over her shoulder in fascination as she silently concentrated on sending her spirit into the piece of painting, willing it to take form of the man she frequently failed to envision. Around her laid her many attempts, each time distracted by an idea that came up randomly.

The man is done, where is he at now?

He's standing at a counselling office.

Draw the lily white floorings and sun-yellow lighting.

He's holding a blonde girl's hand.

Ib's hesitated momentarily at that thought. What's going on? Why is her mind telling her all that information suddenly? Usually it never gives help to her, giving her other ideas of what she should do with the picture she was drawing now…

The man is shocked, as if he's looking through a glass and seeing something he's never seen before.

Shrink the pupil, widen the size of the whites.

The blonde seems genuinely curious about what's she was seeing, almost fascinated by the glass the man was staring at.

Add in the surprised reaction of the young girl, her blue eyes, sparkling in delight.

The lights are actually dim…

Guertena watches on, half horrified at what she was drawing, has awed in drawing something she seems to have no knowledge on.

Ib finishes the drawing quickly, switching over to the paint she request him to bring. It was his own collection of paint, which he rather not use too often. Even though he could always create more, he didn't want the world to be filled with empty paint cans.

With precise strokes, she expertly moved the paintbrush such that the paint snuggled comfortably with the lines around them. Within a couple of minutes, the midnight blue coat was quickly coloured with the man's exposed skin. Beside him was the Blonde, dressed in a simple white shirt and forest green skirt. Around the girls free hand, Ib slowly and steadily dress the lighter held tightly in her hand. She didn't like the idea of having such an item, especially near a young girl. What if she got herself burnt?

The characters in the picture were quickly done. Ib simply moved on to the background. Her mind told her that the lighting was rather dim for such a brightly coloured room, so she took such shades of yellow and splashed it on the walls and ceiling

What would have taken Guertena months to imagine, was quickly created by Ib in an couple of hours after learning the basics. Guertena was uncertain who the young woman was.

"Just who are you…?" Ib gave a glance at her friend, confused about what he said.

"I'd told you, I'm Ib."

"No, no… what is your real name?" Guertena surprised her with that question. Not many people knew that that wasn't her real name. Ib bit her lip slightly, unsure of telling her friend the truth.

"It's okay, I won't leave you just because I found out your real name. You are one of the few true friends I have as well."

"…" Ib silently debated with herself, before answering.

"Isabella 'Ib' Maria Krux."

Mary wasn't sure what she was doing here. Her parents had told her they were coming here to help her, but she was fine. Sure she gets nightmares about being a painting and taking the place of a girl named "Ib", but that's all in her mind. She's was definitely real, and there was no "Ib".

But they were her parents, they knew better, she countered with a sigh. The place was pretty bright and bubbly for her, but the morose look of everyone else kept her down. No one wanted to play with her, no one wanted to be happy for some reason.

Mary continued sitting down patiently for her turn, but she was extremely bored. Looking around, she caught a sight she has no seen for a while.

The lavender hair with black roots of Garry Weiss.

"GARRY!" She squealed and bounded headfirst into his body.

"Oof! Wha- Mary?" He exclaims in surprise.

"Hi there! How are you! What are you doing here? Are you okay? Did you come here for help? Why aren't you answering? Are you listening?" Garry was stunned by the bombardment of question coming from the young blonde he had met a month ago.

"Whoa, Whoa… Slow down! I can't answer you that fast!"

"Huh? That's fast? That wasn't fast! This is fast! Sallysoldseashellsbytheseashore!" Mary brightly replied, happy to see a familiar face.

"Okay, that was fast… In that order; Hi, I'm not doing good, I'm having some mental problems, I'm not okay, Yes."

"You didn't answer my last two questions…" Mary sulked.

"Er… Because you were speaking too fast, and Yes?" Garry meekly replied

"Well… phooey, I wasn't speaking that fast…"

"Ah, anyway, what about you? How are you doing?"

"I'm doing fine, but my parent brought me here to get help because of my dreams."

"Dreams? I'm also having problems with that too."

"Really? Do you dream about two other people with you? Do you dream about a brunette committing… s-su-see…cede?" How did her parent pronounce that again?

"Suicide?"

"Ah! That word!"

"Strange, I get those dreams as well…" Garry scratched his head as he recalled the recent dream.

"You too? Really? I kept having dreams that you and some girl named Ib were together. I was fake, I think, and you didn't like me. Do you hate me?" Mary shyly asked about the last part, it wouldn't do to anger him if so.

"We-well… Not that I don't like you or anything. But something about you just makes me want to stay away from you. Like you are Poison Ivy…"

"Poison Ivy? That's like Ivy right? Only poisoned. How does it feel to be poisoned?"

"I don't know, I've never been poisoned before…" Garry could only sweat at the sight of Mary bouncing all over the place. As the two continued chatting, they failed to notice the flickering of lights till too late.

"What? Why are the rooms darker than before!?" Garry half-shouted at the corridor.

"And no one's here anymore? Where did they go?" Mary muttered, afraid of what is going to happen. Garry looked at the shaking blonde, unsure of what to do.

"M-maybe we s-should look around?" Mary timidly suggested. Garry nodded his head silently, he didn't trust his voice to calm the young girl down, despite his warning bells setting off.

Turning around the corridor, Garry noticed a new painting at the left of the wall. It was a similar to the picture of Noble Sacrifice, it showed the same female, cradling a blue and yellow rose. As a descendant of a renowned painter, he peered at it, curious about the artist who drew such a strange picture.

"My sacrifice, by Guertena Weiss." He read out loud. Strangely, he didn't recall a picture like that drawn by his great-grandfather.

"For the sake of my friends, I offer myself to the darkness. For light cannot exist without its shadow."

"Sounds creepy, we should move on…" Mary shakily replied.

"Good idea…" As they attempted to exit the place, each door was locked suddenly.

"What… every door we tried is locked…" Garry nervously replied. He felt like he had gone through this before. Passing by the painting again, he noticed that the girl was gone.

"You saw a girl standing in this portrait, right?" He nervously asked the blonde beside him, who was staring at the space of the painting.

"Yes… No… I don' really know… I think so…" She rambled as he tried to touch the painting. A chill went down his spine as he nearly fell into it.

"I-I expected that." He stuttered, trying to make himself look strong. Seeing his antics, Mary giggled as he searched through his pockets for the lighter.

"Uhm… Why do I have a second light…? Oh never mind, Mary, do you want to light up the painting?" He offered as he started making his way into the portrait. What choice did they have?

"Wow…" was the only replied he got as she stared in fascination at the blank room.

"What's so fascinating? There's nothing here…" He asked.

"Huh? You don't see it? There's a drawing of a lady around this room. A red-dressed one in front of us-"Unconsciously, he moved away from the said wall.

"W-well, we have a passageway to our sides, which one do you want to go?"

"Let's try the left first." Mary suggested, not noticing the yellow and blue rose on the right passageway. A mistake they would pay dearly.

Along the left corridor, Garry spotted a large number of strange paintings. They ranged from an orange drawn way too round (Perfection), a floating head with a tattered blue cloak (Helplessness) to a upside-down blue coloured rose (Sacrifice). At the end of the corridor stood a gigantic statue of a blue rose, life-like and healthy, but some of the petals are on the floor.

"Strange, the rose looks healthy, but there are petals on the floor." Garry sniffed as he spoke. Marry turned around to ask why when she saw the tears on his face.

"Huh? I'm crying? Again? Why…?" He asked as he rubbed away the tears. Mary too was sobbing slightly.

"Are you okay?"

"Wh-What did I do? W-was it something I-I said? Wh-why am I crying as w-well? I-I'll be g-good…" she whimpered. The fragility on her face make Garry want to protect her with his own life.

"Don't worry, we'll find out." He assured her as he bent down to read the description of the sculpture.

Embodiment of Impossibility.

Something which will never happen once again. You had your chance and you lost it.

To the left of the description was an open letter.

You and the rose are united, know the weight of your own life.

As Garry read out the text to Mary, he wondered where the roses' that held his and Mary's life were. At the end of that trail of though, white-hot pain surged through his body.

"G-Garry?" Mary asked when Garry gasped in pain.

"Y-yes?" He mumbled weakly, the pain was intensifying and his vision was blurring.

"A-are you okay?" Mary asked, rather concerned about him.

"D-don't worry, let's check the other room." He told her as he led the young blonde away from the blue sculpture.

Mary timidly looked down onto the floor as they walked, what was going on? Garry was reading the description of the Blue sculpture when he gave out a cry of pain. Even though she did asked about it, he waved it off.

"He loves me…"

A distance voice came out in front of the hallway. Mary brightened up, hopefully whoever it was could relieve Garry of his pain. She ran forward to get help.

"Wait!" Garry weakly called out to her.

"He loves me not…"

Mary opened the door to look straight at the face of an elegant woman, dressed in red. The strangest thing was that she was half stuck in the frame. In her hand was a single blue rose, similar to the one that the brunette was carrying in that picture.

Mary was stuck in a situation, she felt that the blue rose was important to Garry as was the yellow rose next to the lady in red. But the lady was not human, she was afraid of what might happen if it had spotted her.

Mary could hear the ragged breathing of Garry, and knew he was getting worse. Maybe, maybe the rose was his life? Garry did read out that she and the rose was united, maybe he felt pain when the petals are snapped off.

That would mean they would die here if she didn't do anything about it…

With a deep breath, Mary barged into the room, startling the Lady in Red, quickly she scooped up both roses ran ahead into the other corridor!

"Give me back those flowers!" The Lady screech as the door closed behind her. Mary gulped as she stared at the badly-damaged blue rose, how must she heal it?

Plants need water, but this one wasn't like that plants in the real world. Glancing around the room, she saw a vase of water in front of another painting.

Would the painting come to life? She carefully took step by step until she was standing in front of the vase. Cautiously, she placed the rose into the vase.

The results were immediately, the blue rose came back to life. But Mary was startled by another thing; as soon as she had placed the roses into the vase, the letters 'E, F, H, I, T' appeared all around her. Thief? But she didn't steal anything…

Mary stood by the vase, waiting for something – anything, to jump out at her for a while. While nothing happened, she went to check if the vase had any more water.

"None what so ever…" she sighed, not surprised. Why? She didn't know either, maybe she expected it to do so.

How was she going to get back though, she didn't want to run pass the Lady in Red again, the way she screeched and chased her will definitely give her nightmares.

I don't have much of a choice though, she sighed once again.

As she near closer and closer towards the door, she could hear grumbling and complaining from the other side.

"…Mary… why… rose…?" were some of the words she could make out. Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened the door, and tiptoed towards the opposite side.

Unfortunately, she was rather loud as the painting turned its head and spotted Mary.

"What are you doing here?" Was the first sentence that popped out of the lady's mouth. Seeing her chance, she bolted for the door.

"Wait! Mary! Come back!" The Lady in Red shrieked as she slammed the door hard behind her. Without a thought, Mary sprinted down the corridor and found Garry trying to regain his breath.

"Garry! W-w-w-we gotta go! We gotta go!" She persuaded him and pulled him towards the rose sculpture.

"Huh? Go where? That side was blocked by the statue, remember?" He told Mary. Never the less, Mary pulled him along to the other end, to see the ashen remains of the sculpture. Both the stalk and the petals were burnt to a crisp, with a single red petal at the side of it.

"W-what happened…?" Garry could only utter out. Behind the sculpture was another door, they entered the next room. Unaware of the true meaning of the message left behind by the Embodiment of Impossibility.

Yay! Another chapter done! What did you think about the hidden message in the Embodiment of Impossibility?

Ib: -looks up from her painting- there was a hidden message?

Er… not one, not two, but a large number.

Ib: … -looks at the Embodiment of Impossibility-

Er… what are you doing?

Ib: Trying to figure out one of the meanings.

Er… you do that, tell me what you'd think about those message (with your guys' assistance, of course!) See you in the next chapter!

Ib: Don't forget to review!

Oi! Ib!