The sun had set in the Land of Black Regality. The many towering buildings of the city were silhouettes against the orange skyline. Around dusk, a majority of Lastation citizens got off work ready to enjoy the nightlife, others the night shift. Few people went this early to bed. Life as a denizen of Lastation entailed long, tiring days on the job, but rarely did those denizens complain about their city.

The patron of Lastation herself, Noire, was not gearing up for a night on the town, nor did she have any urgent requests. Cooped up in her room, she hummed to herself while she chewed on a chocolate pastry. Next to her, in the bed, lay an unconscious Neptune. Not even an hour after waking up that morning, the CPU had fallen asleep for the entire day. Noire had a feeling that Neptune would wake up feeling wide awake—at least, until daybreak tomorrow, at which point she would run out of energy and fall asleep for another twelve hours.

Dinner hour had already passed, and Noire looked down at the white, orange-striped bakery box that had arrived at the Basilicom a short while ago. Then, it had contained well over a baker's dozen; now, it was missing a few. Of all people, Kei had delivered the box to her room.

"As it seems, you will not be having a proper dinner tonight, Lady Noire," the Oracle had said. "There is enough in here for the both of you, maybe another."

Sold at the idea of food—something sweet, especially—Noire had not thought twice before opening the box and picking one of her favorites. Soon after, she was overcome with curiosity about the sender. The box had not arrived with any letter or memo. Even if she had not made any calls, someone had to have placed the order; the address of the Basilicom did not appear on any mailing lists. If only she had asked Kei before dismissing her...

That thought in the back of her mind, Noire reached for the box and grabbed something at random. Whoever had been thoughtful enough to send this gift, they had her gratitude.

When Neptune came to, she barely moved save for a yawn. She was sleeping with her back against the wall, just as she had been that morning. Noire's head was turned in the other direction; she had not noticed her friend stir.

When the CPU did glance over at the bed, she jumped when she saw Neptune looking back at her. The goddess' eyes were weighted by sleep; her fluttering, half-lidded gaze sent a shiver down Noire's spine. Noire could only stare, frozen with a chocolate roll halfway to her lips.

"Uh... Want one?"

A minute later, Neptune was seated and nibbling at the edge of a croissant. Her temperance was almost heartbreaking in a way; it was not like her to be a dainty eater. Noire offered the subdued-looking goddess another bun in hope that more to eat would rekindle Neptune's appetite.

"Here, I think this one has custard inside," she said, holding out the roll for her friend to take. Neptune hesitated then put the croissant in her mouth to take the second. Feeling like a fool, Noire berated herself: smart move, giving something to a person who only had one hand to use. "Ah, um, sorry. I could hold it for you..."

Neptune shook her head. The flaky pastry waggled in between her teeth, dropping crumbs onto her lap. "It's 'kay," she said, her voice muffled by bread. "Gimme 'nother one and I'll put it on my head f' later!"

Atthough she was making jokes like always, her body language was a cause for alarm. Neptune spoke with a slowness much unlike her and continued to eat with her eyes downcast and squinted, blinking every once in a while. Every few seconds, she would shoot furtive glances at Noire and the box on the bedside table, but whatever was on her mind went unsaid.

This continued for at least two minutes until the tension in the room was at an unbearable level. No longer satisfied with chocolate bread and stiff silence, Noire put the rest of her treat aside and stood up, her movement drawing Neptune's attention. She took a step toward Neptune and fixed her with a frown before leaning over to give her a light tap on the shoulder.

"Look, speak up, will you?" She purposely used a scornful tone. "It isn't like you to be quiet. If you have something to say, spit it out."

Neptune tilted her head and tried to respond, the croissant still dangling from her mouth. Noire snagged it from the air and cleared her throat, scowling.

"Sorry sister," Neptune apologized after licking her lips. "I'm tired, but it's nothing. Couple naps'll fix it."

Annoyance creased Noire's brow. She jabbed a finger. "You're just saying that. You and I both know why. It's because of your share energy, and a nap or two certainly isn't going to solve anything."

A rare shadow crossed Neptune's face. The CPU of Planeptune scoffed as she turned away from Noire to stare at the opposite window. "Well, gee, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to lose my country."

Noire tensed and opened her mouth to reply, but her breath caught on the first syllable. Nothing came to mind: no retort, no excuse, no apology. She swallowed and tried to defend herself, but Neptune cut her off.

"Listen, Noire"—Neptune lifted her injured arm and winced in pain—"can you just drop the whole No-Shares Neptune thing? I know I always tease you about being lonely, but... you know. I can't ignore everything people say about me, even if 'people' means almost everybody in Gamindustri."

Neptune crossed her arms—at least, she crossed one—and fell silent. She fidgeted and refused to even look over her shoulder at Noire, who wanted to reach out and remind her of the minority who did continue to believe in her.

In the end, no words were passed between the two for a while. Despite being in proximity of the other goddess, Noire of Lastation was left to her own thoughts.

This was the first time Neptune had snapped at her or, as far as Noire knew, anyone. Even in the past, at times when Neptune had every right to be mad, the girl had never really gotten angry. All it took to tip to balance was a single thoughtless remark; having been friends with Neptune for decades now, the black-haired goddess almost found it unbelievable.

Noire shifted on one foot and summoned her voice. Her hand automatically found its place on her hip. "Neptune... What's wrong? You can tell me, I'll listen."

"Oh, nothing. I'm just thinking, for once."

The line was delivered with no shortage of self-deprecation, as if Neptune were sulking. Even though Noire wanted to smack the purple CPU for her reticence, she stayed her hand. Anything she did at this moment would only come off as cavalier.

When Neptune was playing the fool, she was agreeable and quick to forgive. When she was not, she was more like Purple Heart in demeanor: sometimes aloof, usually cold, and generally unpredictable. Taking from the few times Noire had been subject to the goddess' deviating personality, she decided that she much preferred it when Neptune was transformed. HDD seemed to regulate the girl's behavior if only by a little bit.

Silence waged a war on her composure. She looked desperately at Neptune's back in search of a way to restart the conversation, but the CPU did not turn around.

The civil war in Planeptune had begun not long ago, and it had reached its height only yesterday with the assassination attempt. The leader of said city had lost her country, citizens, and power, all at relatively the same time. While a reality check had been a long time coming, Neptune was thrown into the deep end with her hands tied; she was in over her head, so to speak.

Having imagined the weight riding on her rival's shoulders, Noire ran her tongue over the back of her teeth and wet her lips. It was not a position that anyone, CPU or not, would envy. Should she have been in Neptune's shoes, losing Lastation would have been a sore point for her as well. A prideful ruler of the nation she had built from the ground up, such a loss would be devastating to her.

Conflicted between feeling guilt or indignation, the goddess shakily sat down where she stood. Her back to the side of the bed, she let her head tilt back and rest on the duvet. She absently bit into the croissant in her hand. It was buttery and flaky, tokens of a good baker, but it did not remove the sour taste in her mouth.

Why was Neptune mad at her? Did Neptune hate her? These thoughts she dismissed as conjecture. She and Neptune were good friends, and they clashed on a regular basis. One argument did not have enough surface area to generate actual hatred.

Only after polishing off the crescent-shaped breakfast roll did Noire remember who she had confiscated it from. The fact did not bother her in the slightest, which surprised her in itself. Unlike Neptune, she thought it unbecoming to take food from others. Pressing her fingers to her lips, she exhaled and stared at the carpet.

The sheets moved behind her. Before she could turn around, a hand touched her shoulder. "Hey, Nowa," said a voice directly in her ear. "If you do that, I'll get the wrong idea."

Noire jumped and almost stood up out of surprise. "W-what? What am I doing? I'm not doing anything."

"How was my croissant?" Neptune asked, lowering her voice. She talked slowly and lingered on every syllable. "Did it taste better after I sunk my teeth into it?"

Her face heating up, Noire pulled herself away from the girl's grip. "No! I wasn't actually hungry! I-I was just annoyed!"

"What about your fingers?" continued Neptune. "You totally thought I wasn't watching when you sucked 'em clean, huh?" she teased. Lifting a hand to her mouth, she drew her tongue lazily over two fingers.

"What are you talking about? You're seeing things!"

Lying on her side with her arm dangling out of the bed, Neptune laughed and waved her fingers. "So, which one is it Noire?" she asked, her voice back to its normal volume. "Because you were mad, you were hungry, or you just wanted to eat my food?"

"Neither! None! Damn it!" Noire hit the side of the bed and glowered at the smug face. "I hate you."

"But do you really?" the CPU laughed. "Whatever you say, Noire dearest. Now, lend me a hand, would you? I'm gonna fall."

The trickster's request went unheeded. A few minutes of being stuck like a turtle on its back would not do her any harm. Her pleading was ineffective on Noire, who moved out of reach and feigned deafness.

Before even a minute had passed, there was a knock on the door. Noire frowned but got up to answer the door, confident that Kei would not allow just anybody to enter the Basilicom. "What is it?" she said as she opened the door.

Before the visitor even showed their face, Neptune shouted in a frantic voice. "Hey, I'm so glad you're here! Can you help me? I'm stuck!"

The brown-haired figure at the door was clothed in a blue jacket with a silver hem. "What? Nep?" When IF peeked under Noire's arm and saw Neptune looking like she was about to fall off the bed, she gasped and pushed her way into the room. "Nep! Hold on, I'll help you!"

As IF made a beeline for the bed to assist her friend—who was not in any real danger—Noire sighed and shifted her bangs. The scene was familiar; she herself had done the same thing hours ago, when she had visited Neptune in the morning.

It did not take long for the gust of beautiful wind to realize that her protective instinct was misplaced. Once she noticed Noire standing indifferent at the foot of the bed, her panic was replaced by skepticism.

"Wait a second... I feel like I'm missing something here."

Descent

It took a while for IF to figure out what had happened from two different accounts. Once she had sorted truth from half-truth, she sat back in her chair and let out a sigh. It only made sense that Neptune's version of the story was the most exaggerated. "I should've expected something like this," she grumbled, reaching for the box that Noire offered to her. She grabbed a sweet bun and held it up to her eyes. "Thanks, Lady Noire. I haven't eaten all day."

Noire put the box down and nodded twice. "Oh, uh, yeah. No problem, IF."

From where she was seated on the bed, Neptune squinted at Noire, looking for something to poke fun at. "Bet you're thinking something like, 'I wish I was closer with IF' or whatever."

"What? No, that's not what I'm thinking about!" Noire stomped her foot on the carpet and glared.

IF gnawed hungrily at her snack as the goddesses went back and forth. Her eyes lit up when she discovered the cream filling in the middle. She was happy to share in some of the bakery delectables. Even though she had some reservations, hunger would not permit her to refuse a free meal.

"Admit it, you're just jealous that she isn't as friendly with you as she is with me!"

"You wish. At least I can have an intelligent conversation with her. You've never had one of those, huh?"

As an accredited adventurer not officially associated with any nation or its Basilicom, IF was free to travel and offer her services wherever she pleased. She was essentially a freelance, a sellsword, a mercenary, though her line of work was more of an agent's rather than a hired fighter. Normally, she remained within the borders of Planeptune, since her closest friends—Compa, Histoire, and many others to name—happened to live there. Her sense of kinship was easily the reason she spent most of her time working and hanging out in the city of Purple Progress.

By no means did IF dislike Lastation, Lowee, or Leanbox, but she never looked for an excuse to visit the Basilicoms of the three neighboring nations. All of the CPUs welcomed her as a close friend, but that closeness was only accredited to IF's participation in the battle against the ASIC. If not for that common enemy which brought them together, IF would be no more than an agent of Planeptune in the eyes of the other goddesses.

As if to ease IF's unrest, Noire stopped arguing for a moment and gave her visitor an apologetic smile. She pointed to the box on the table between them, wordlessly saying, "Help yourself."

IF understood, nodded, and smiled. Shrugging off some of her formalities, she reached over and took something from the box. Sometimes, she forgot: Bonds forged during hard times can be incredibly strong. Her conscience always tried to make her think otherwise, but moments like this one helped her remember she was in the company of friends.

The dispute seemed to be coming to a close: Neptune was laughing to herself, triumphant about something, and Noire was with her hand on her head, eyes closed and brow forming a frustrated line.

After a few seconds, IF cleared her throat. "Hey, Lady Noire." Noire looked at her and hummed, prompting her to go on. "Is something on your mind?"

The goddess shook her head. "Not really. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I should probably tell you why I'm here." IF took a quick bite from her sweet, paste-filled pastry. "First of all, I wanted to see how Nep was doing."

Neptune's face lit up at the mention of her name.

"But more importantly, I heard about the attack and I'm trying to collect as much data as possible," she continued, tearing a piece of the bun off with her fingers. "My colleague hasn't been around, since she's been working full-time under a different banner..." IF stopped and blew out through the corner of her mouth.

Neptune groaned and pulled the sheets up to her chest. "And here I thought you actually liked me. Did you at least bring gifts?"

Noire sighed. "Ignore her." She smiled again and spoke in a cordial, conversational tone. "How's are things over in Planeptune? Busy?"

The sigh that preceded the girl's response was a good indicator of how things were. "You bet. It's like hell, there's been so much to do lately." IF draped an arm over the back of the chair and looked at Neptune. Her expression told both CPUs more than they wanted to know. "You're better off in Lastation, really."

Progress had been all but halted in the land named after it. With the discontinuation of the most recent console put out by the nation, Planeptune's remaining CPU Candidate and Oracle were hard-pressed to make a rebound. Unfortunately, their rivaling nations had long since advanced in the field of technology; currently, no Planeptunian tech could hold a candle to Lowee's newest, Lastation's finest, or Leanbox's best. That was an issue in and out of itself, but combined with the disintegrating order of power within the nation, it was an ill-timed disaster.

Even Planeptune's research-and-development team was starting to lose momentum. This was their third failure in terms of profit and reception. Nepgear, the most active and outspoken member, was struggling to keep R&D from disbanding. She insisted they continue hardware development, but her opinion was overruled. Clutching at straws, her desperation was made clear, but her optimism was lost on the grizzled, disconcerted researchers. Nepgear's presence at every meeting weathered the loss of members if only by a small number. However much she argued her point, the team was not convinced that Planeptune would be able to make it. This was their third failure in terms of profit and reception. They were ready to move on.

To make problems worse, rumors were being spread about conspiracies between the ailing country and its neighbors. Some said that Planeptune was seeking help from Leanbox in the form of cross-compatible consoles, while others stated that Leanbox was looking to absorb Planeptune to overpower its direct competitor, Lastation. IF wanted to put down the rumors as groundless, but...

"... It's hard to deny the truth when it's right in front of you," the scout finished and sighed. "Planeptune's best, maybe only option is to get help from the other nations. As much as I hate to say it, that's the situation." She motioned with her half-eaten pretzel. "With you gone, Nep, there's nobody to keep Planeptune in check. Nepgear is struggling to get by, and Histoire... well, she's always in over her head."

She righted herself in her seat and continued. "Sorry Nep, but there's still more. I hope this isn't too defeating, but—"

"Defeat?" Neptune interrupted and met IF's eyes with a proud and defiant gaze. "Our battle has not yet begun!"

IF was torn between a laugh and a sigh. As reassuring as it was to see Neptune's spirit, the CPU had a habit of derailing key conversations with lines like that. The brunette sighed and talked over her.

"Planeptune's citizens are anxious," she said. "Your last public appearance was yesterday at the guild, and now everybody is saying you've been killed in action. I can't blame them f—"

The goddess sat bolt upright. "Killed?! Seriously?" she cried.

Noire was quick to restrain her. "Neptune, stop yelling! Close your eyes and your mouth and, uh, breathe calmly or something."

Though reluctantly, Neptune did as she was told. IF was taken aback by the explosive reaction. She would be lying if she claimed to have expected Neptune to show so much concern. Anguish was plain on her face, and her shoulders were trembling. Then again, the CPU had been particularly strained recently.

"Are you good now?" Noire asked again, glancing between the two faces in the room. Neptune gave a nod and a pained smile.

"All's good in my hood," she rhymed. Her eyes immediately went back to IF, asking a silent question: "Anything else?"

IF got straight to the point. "They need to see their goddess," she said. "The longer you're gone, the more people will turn away. If Purple Heart doesn't make an appearance, then Planeptune is in trouble."

The three fell silent and shared a single, worried look.

"But I can't transform!" protested Neptune, glancing at her arm. "I mean, I haven't actually tested it yet, but someone here isn't letting me try." Her eyes narrowed on the only suspect in the room. IF hid her surprise; she had never known Neptune to be confrontational.

Noire met the piercing stare with her own. "Histoire's orders. It's for your own safety," she said sternly, "so you don't end up getting hurt even more than you are now. What if you explode or something, then—"

"Yeah, so, what if HDD me is totally fine? How would you know what'd happen? Not like you've broke your arm before."

"Because you're too weak to stand up as you are now! You'll never prove anything to anyone if you can't stay in HDD long enough to hold a conversation."

"I'll just—"

"Shut up! You're being stupid, you know that? Stupid and reckless! This is for your own good, so why can't you just do as you're told?"

The two glared daggers at each other. The exchange had ended as abruptly as it started. IF was hesitant to step in between the verbal knife fight, but she had to become the mediator else someone reach for their real weapon.

The would-be battle was prevented by a knock on the door, which saved IF from having to offer herself. "Come in," she shouted, making a silent prayer of thanks to whoever had just arrived.

When the identity of the visitor was revealed, IF only had another reason to be glad. "Iffy! You're already here!" came a familiar, bubbly voice. "Oh, and Nep-Nep is awake!"

Neptune's face transformed into a smile as the nurse-in-training entered the room. "Hey, if it isn't Compa! I'm super glad you're here, fluffy dovey pillow of mine. Gimme a hug!"

Compa obliged without question. "I'm so happy you're okay, Nep-Nep!"

Clearly biting back affronted words, Noire rose to her feet with shaking shoulders. "Hi Compa, thanks for coming," she said through gritted teeth. "I have some work to do, so take care of Neptune for me."

With that, the CPU of Lastation stalked out of the room. The remaining three gaped at the empty doorway. Once the sound of footsteps was gone, Neptune came back to life and slumped forward with a weary moan.

"She's so annoying!" complained the goddess, pulling at the sheets. "Agh, I can't believe her. Noire is such an idiot!"

IF scoffed. "Like you can talk, you hypocrite."

Compa, worried and unknowing, looked around and frowned. "Did something happen?" she inquired. She was still holding her friend close, pressing her cleavage to Neptune's uninjured arm.

"Nah, just ignore her," Neptune chirped, the resentment already gone from her voice. "Noire's just being sour and dour. Anyway, you should check out that box o' plenty right over there. That stuff is délicieux." Compa followed Neptune's line of sight to the box, which was getting a lot of attention recently. Food really was a commodity.

"Now now, Nep-Nep." Compa pulled away and held the girl at arm's length. "You can't always think about food. It's not good for your mindset," she chided with eyes that were more amused than they were stern.

"C'mon Compa," Neptune crooned, "I just want one out of twenty-one buns. Noire bought a double baker's dozen, so she was probably planning to stuff herself anyways."

Uninterested in the off-topic banter, IF drummed her fingers on the table. Her mind was somewhere else: The CPU of Lastation had stormed out of her own room. Her sudden exit had left the three puzzled, but the duo over on the bed no longer seemed to be concerned about the incident.

Before she could wonder about where Noire had gone, something was shoved in her face. "You too, Iffy!" Compa smiled, holding out another bread. "I know you skipped breakfast today, so you need to eat."

IF leaned back so she could see around the bread-shaped blur. "Um, no, I'm..." Compa was staring her down with a twinkle in her eye. "Er. Th-thanks," she muttered lamely, taking the offering without further complaint. Satisfied, the pseudo nurse nodded and giggled into her hand.

Neptune started to scoot closer to Compa. "I'm actually sorta nervous about being here," she said, unusually straight-faced. "In Noire's room, I mean. She could get away with anything, you know."

"A-anything? I don't think..." IF's voice trailed away. A provocative scenario started to develop in her mind's eye, and she shook her head to erase the image before it took flight. "That may be true, but nothing will happen. Lady Noire is..." she faltered, searching for the right word. "She doesn't seem like the type to take advantage of you like that."

"Oh, she totally is," Neptune made an indignant face. "Don't believe me? You owe me a pudding for every eggplant she feeds me, every paper she makes me sign..." The list went on and on, but IF soon stopped listening. At the mention of paperwork, the brunette already knew that her imagination had taken her in the wrong direction.

Words flowed easily between the three of them. They were long-time friends. For hours at a time, several days a week, the trio came together with some excuse in mind: work, celebration, and leisure, though the last two were becoming increasingly rare as the weeks went by. Right now, everything was okay: Neptune led the conversation every which way, and Compa went with the flow while IF followed at a more rational pace.

IF's thoughts eventually shifted from her accumulating list of tasks, and she started to laugh alongside her friends at their dumb jokes and light-hearted chatter. That was why she loved these two. She considered them her best friends for good reason. In her life of work and stress, they were her compass and pocket mirror. Whenever she got lost, one or both would show her the way home. Whenever she got lost, they would help her to remember who she really was.

Wings sprouted from her heart and threatened to escape, beating their plumage against her chest. The sapid conversation worked wonders for her mental fatigue; her shoulders sank, and smiles formed more easily on her lips. She was finally able to relax for the first time in a long time. Work completely vanquished from her thoughts, IF breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. Air rushed from her lungs and left a content, satisfying sensation.

Casual, mindless, idle chitchat was a good thing now and then. Just as with playing a game, it was important to take a break from real life every once in a while. IF spared one last glance at the empty seat at the foot of the bed—Noire's—before giving her undivided attention to Compa, who was telling some story. Only a few more hours remained in the day, so she planned to enjoy them and end the day on a good note.

Descent

Behind the sealed door in Histoire's office was a steep stairwell that extended far, far below the surface of Planeptune. The walls were smooth and not close together. The steps, made of the same tile as the walls, were visible even in the absolute darkness; a thin strip of glowing metal highlighted every second tread. Histoire felt the air become cooler as she descended the tunnel.

At the end of the passage, the stairs leveled and the darkness gave way to a faint bluish light. The corridor led into a cavernous room which was at least five stories tall. In the center of the room stood a huge crystal, pivoting slowly on a pedestal: the Sharicite. It shone with a diminished white light—dim, but permeating nonetheless. Its power could be felt throughout the entire room.

Here, no more than a meter off the ground, Histoire was reminded of her diminutive size. She felt very small in the presence of the Sharicite, but she floated closer and let its influence wash over her. Here, the atmosphere was immersive; it surrounded her, not uncomfortably, in a way that could only be described as mystical. The first time she had discovered this place, she had gotten lost for days. Even now, being near the heart of the city sent a chill down her spine.

She laid a hand on the surface of the crystal and closed her eyes. Her tome moved in synchronization with the rotation of the core. Literally powering the entire city, it gave off an unwavering, minimal level of energy. The aura of the Sharicite was as thin as a razor, a far cry from the heights it reached a decade ago, yet still present.

A muted hum emanated from the stone, but the sound disappeared when she removed her hand. She pulled away and watched the Sharicite spin: It was a perfect symmetrical prism.

It took about a minute for the core to make a full rotation. The pages of her magic book fluttered quietly. The strength of the Sharicite did not fade as she turned away.

Histoire shut her eyes and breathed deeply, giving full navigational control to her tome. On its own, at a leisurely pace, the book carried her to the far wall.

Shelves circled the room all the way around, and they were filled from top to bottom with texts, both written and electronic. This room was the most expansive and impressive library in Gamindustri—it was an arcane archive unlike any other. It filled Histoire with pride to say that she was the caretaker of this place.

The tome took her to a section she had yet to search. It was not without a purpose that she opened the backdoor in her office. Although she commonly dwelled in the library to read and let the hours dwindle away, she did not have the luxury of time at this moment. Planeptune was in a state of chaos, and its CPUs were in danger. The only solution to this dilemma was currently on a six-month vacation in another country.

With a reinvigorated sense of purpose, Histoire gathered all existing data on the power of the Sharicite and its wielders, the CPUs. She pulled books from shelves and discs from storage compartments. These, she dropped off on a simple wooden desk against the wall. The polished brown table would have looked out of place on the silvery, high-tech background if not for the books lining adjacent shelves.

She would start her research with the electronics, as they were less in number. However, one would be mistaken to assume there were a lot of books. While it was true that the library contained a wealth of information, the Sharicite was something of an obscure subject. In total, she had only been able to find about twenty texts on the subject—most compiled by past CPUs and their Oracles—which equaled over sixty hours of reading.

Two hours in, she placed the last disc back in its case. Her research had not borne any fruit, but it had uncovered some intriguing tidbits. On a few of the digital texts, there had been mentions of an ancient CPU of unknown origin who ruled with both personalities side by side. It seemed that there was a process which allowed the CPU to split, resulting in two separate individualities: the human form and the HDD form.

Many questions arose when Histoire reread the passages to make sure that she had not misunderstood. If the divergence of mortal and immortal form were truly possible, it would solve almost every problem Histoire had at the moment. Yet, after reading the passage, she was beginning to doubt the possibility of such a thing.

She wanted to know if the human form would retain its link to the Sharicite and, consequentially, its immortality. She wanted to know if the process was irreversible or if the two forms could somehow merge back into one. She wanted to know the process, what had happened the ancient CPU, and how they met their end, whether they passed away peacefully or for other reasons.

Histoire gulped as she thumbed the cover of the first of twenty hard-cover books. A feeling—a prescience—told her that salvation was hidden somewhere between these gilded pages. These books had not been opened since before her time. The pages were undusted only because the library was kept tidy even after years of disuse.

If only she had taken the time to research this subject before, then they could have weathered the storm. For almost three years now, the downhill slant of Planeptune's graph had presaged rising tensions and a decline in the prosperity of the city. The stress and tedium of work had narrowed Histoire's focus and caused her to neglect her research. Between balancing societal issues and locking herself away to read, it was the former that took priority.

Straightening her back and taking a few deep breaths, Histoire let go of the book and placed both hands on the pages of her tome. She cleared her mind, silencing her worries and regrets. "Whatever happens, happens," or so she told herself.

As she was reaching again for the book, she sensed something in her tome and stopped. Underneath her fingers, the page was shining with a mana-infused blue light. Her lexicon, showing an inanimate consciousness, was giving her a suggestion.

Immediately recognizing the spell and intention conveyed by the book, Histoire laughed softly to herself. It took only a few seconds to endorse the spell and establish a link between herself and the person she wished to contact.

"Hello, Kei? No, nothing urgent, but I believe I may have gotten a lead on a solution. Well, I will need three days for further research, but let us chat for a bit. Listen to this..."

Descent

Nepgear found herself running as she approached the Basilicom. Cognizant of her tendencies to develop tunnel vision, she shook her head and forced herself to slow down. She had attracted the attention of more than a few passersby; a CPU Candidate running around through the streets of a nation other than their own was not an everyday occurrence.

"Sis..." she breathed and bit her lip. It was no mystery why she was in a hurry.

Even with the twins' help, the search for Uni had yielded no results. Not a single trace of the missing girl had been found. By the time the sun had set, the seekers had little faith that Uni would turn up, and the impromptu search party disbanded with the intention of resuming the very next day.

The dual CPU Candidates had gone home earlier. Their older sister had been reluctant to even let them participate in the search, but they had somehow persuaded her to allow them until six of the clock to look around with Nepgear.

Stubborn as she was, Ram had suggested to her sister and foreign friend that they disregard the time restriction. Rom, the more convincing negotiator of the twins, quelled her sister's rebellious notion. Her pink look-alike surrendered, tail between her legs, as soon as Rom mentioned Blanc's characteristic temper.

Now, alone and without pressing matters to attend to, Nepgear was faced with the choice of returning to Planeptune or remaining in Lastation. While a voice in the back of her head gave rational evidence to support the first option, another voice—louder and more clear than the other—chanted her sister's name. Needless to say, Nepgear listened to the louder voice.

Though business-centric, Lastation had its share of boutiques and cake shops. Nepgear stopped by several and picked up a variety of desserts and sweets. Her purse nowhere near as heavy as it had been earlier, Nepgear set off for her destination with shopping bags in hand.

The wide doors of the Basilicom swung inwards and invited Nepgear inside. After inquiring her name and business, the gray-robed worker at the reception desk nodded and rose to his feet, giving a formal welcome. He lost interest almost immediately and returned his attention to the book on his lap.

"Through that door, then take the elevator to floor three," he said without looking at her. "Lady Black Heart's room is the second-to-last door on the left."

The receptionist did not look up again, but Nepgear smiled and thanked him nonetheless. She followed the directions and, sure enough, saw an open door at the end of the hallway. Thinking that her footsteps would alert Neptune of her arrival, she entered the room without hesitation.

"Neptune?" Her voice disturbed the silence. "Um. Is anyone here?" she asked, taking another step into the room before freezing in place. She took a quick look around and realized why no one responded to her.

Decorative guns—real and most likely functional—adorned the walls. An assortment of military collectibles furnished the room, including maps, model tanks, and a gray stuffed rabbit with an eyepatch and a camoflauge-patterned beret. Undoubtedly, a few personal keepsakes were hidden among the collection. The furniture and bedsheets added a feminine touch to the bedroom themed after a gunner's armory.

Nepgear backed out of the room and pulled the door shut; it closed with a muted click. Warmth heated her cheeks, though she could not tell if her face was pale or pink. She placed a hand over her heart and let out a shaky breath.

Absentminded, she had passed the second-to-last door and instead entered the open door that led to Uni's room. To walk into the room of a missing person looking for her sister... She did not want to repeat that mistake ever again. Nepgear gulped and gently slapped her cheeks. "Silly me."

In the next room over, the Candidate found her older sister engrossed in a handheld game, quietly manipulating the control stick. Neptune heard the girl walk in, and her head snapped up. A wide smile formed on her face when she recognized the face in the doorway.

"Heeey, g'morning Nep Jr.! I must be popular. Third visitor in an hour?" She held the black, oval-shaped device up with one hand. "Oh, c'mere, you gotta see this. Check it out!"

Ever the obedient girl, Nepgear scurried over and set her baggage down by the side of the bed before sitting down close to her older sister. "Good morning, Neptune," she replied automatically, but then she frowned and tilted her head. "But... It isn't morning."

Neptune stopped with words on the tip of her tongue. "What, really?" she said after a moment. "It's not?"

Nodding, the younger girl looked to the window; blackout curtains, pulled across the window, blocked the view of the outside. Nepgear hurried over and pulled the curtains aside to reveal the city of Lastation in all of its nocturnal glory. Save for bubbles of light from streetlamps and windows in the distance, complete darkness shrouded the city.

Nepgear turned, and the sisters locked eyes. One looked away, confused, and laughed. "Oh, well, would you look at that! Time really flies when you're having fun! I've just been playing with this thing all day, this Lastation Portobello thingie that Noire made. Hey, come here and I'll let you have a try."

Again, Nepgear paused and hesitated before giving an answer. "The Lastation Portable," she corrected, "is Uni's console. She finished it just before... you know. Her disappearance. We were play together..."

"Oh." Making a strangled noise, Neptune blew out through her teeth. "Silly me. Totally forgot that Uni did the handhelds. Just, uh, you know how similar they are, tsun-tsun and sister-sister? I get them mixed up sometimes. Er, my bad."

The CPU rarely made scatterbrained mistakes. Unsettled by her sister's absentmindedness, Nepgear shook her head and sat down on the bed. "It's okay. You don't need to justify anything." She hid her worries and inched closer to Neptune. "What game are you playing? Is it multiplayer? Can I join? Oh, and how's your shoulder?" She reached across her sister's body to lay a gentle hand on the sling. The material was stiff and rough to the touch.

"Whoa there, hold your horsebirds! Don't just ask a hundred and one questions out of nowhere, snow way I can answer them all at once. Here, gimme a hug first, then we'll see about that multiplayer."

Nepgear spent several minutes hugging and gushing over her older sister. Not at all displeased by the prolonged show of affection, the goddess grinned and took everything in stride. Neptune even pretended not to notice her sister's lips grazing her neck and face when the girl nuzzled her like the giant stuffed rabbit in their room had taken her place.

The younger girl showed no sign of letting go anytime soon. Neptune, looking increasingly uncomfortable at the rising level of intimacy in her sister's touch, fidgeted and cast about for an excuse. "Say, what's in that bag you were carrying? Did ya go shopping?" she asked.

The diversion worked, and Nepgear pulled away with eyes wide. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot..." She trailed off as she leaned down to grab the bag. "I picked these up for you. I hope you like them."

At the sight of more food, Neptune's eyebrows shot upwards. "Whoa, all for me?" Her eyes followed Nepgear's hand as it moved back and forth from the bag to the bedside table, laying out an array of boxed cakes, cookies, and who knew what else. "Am I lucky to have a sister so devoted and kind! Your mortally wounded older sister gives you her dearest thanks."

Judging from the terrified expression that shadowed the Candidate's face, the joke had tapped a sensitive subject. Terror gave way to relief once Nepgear realized her sibling's remark was only in jest. The younger CPU smiled and situated herself next to her sister. "Can I stay here a while, Neptune? So much has been happening, and we haven't been able to spend much time with each other."

Neptune nodded her approval and shifted to the side to give her younger sister space to sit. The width of the bed easily accommodated the both of them, and it could probably fit one or two more.

Being closest to the confections, Nepgear took it upon herself to feed her sister. "Here, Neptune, eat this one."

Neptune opened her mouth to accept the bite of shortcake. The sweet, strawberry-infused taste drew out a purr of enjoyment from the goddess. "Wow, my tastebuds are all like très bien right now. Good choice, m'dear, you get an extra move."

Glowing from the praise, Nepgear habitually ate the rest of the cake off the fork before cutting another piece for her sister. This sort of closeness was arguably standard fare between sisters, though many would assume from word of mouth—or firsthand knowledge, in the case of a few—that Nepgear felt a different kind of affinity for the CPU of Planeptune. Fortunately, Neptune did not seem to mind sharing utensils, and the pair enjoyed the desserts for a good amount of time.

After a couple minutes of mindless chatter, Nepgear put her fork down and remembered the time and place. She looked around as if the owner of the room would appear out of thin air. "Is Noire not here? I thought she'd be with you."

Neptune's eyebrows came together for a brief moment before her expression went back to normal. She hummed and shrugged, "I dunno. She's probably questing or developing or something, the busy bee, the workaholic." She added the last word in a scoff. The strict work regime of Lastation was the tried, true, and go-to explanation for Noire's absence; even under these special circumstances, the local goddess could not seem to slow her pace.

"That's too bad," the Candidate nodded, her lips a thin, thoughtful line. "I-if she can't keep you company all the time... Maybe I shoul—"

"Nope, no way! C'est n'importe quoi!" Neptune cut her off, crossing her hands in front of her chest. "We can't have that, and you know it." She made a stern face and looked directly at the younger girl. "We can't afford to leave Planeptune alone right now. I'm stuck here, want to or not, but you can go anywhere."

"But what about you?" pleaded Nepgear, gripping her sister's arm. "I can still be helpful. I just want to spend more time with you!"

Neptune refused to give in. "Think of the children! Oh, and Histy! Can you imagine how hard it'd be for her if you stopped working too?

"You're my sister and my CPU Candidate," the goddess continued after taking a breath, "and when I can't live up to my job as a CPU, your job is to take over in my place. I don't just mean replace me when my term is done and gone, I mean that you need to take over whenever I'm not cutting it! You get me?"

The speaker delivered the words with passion and dignity that was alien of her usual behavior. Nepgear sat back in her seat looking thoroughly chastised. She rubbed her wrist and mumbled something that did not reach Neptune's ears. "So..."

Neptune's shoulders deflated when she sat the effects of her speech. As if she had not meant to work herself up, she interjected and stumbled over a few syllables. "Er, my bad, Nep Jr. I didn't mean to be pushy, but we're CPUs, you know. We have to know what comes first." She reached out and placed a hand on top of Nepgear's head, rustling her hair gentle. "Come on, don't make me feel like I just kicked your puppy. You can visit me anytime, just not all the time."

Without words, Nepgear nodded and leaned ever so slightly on Neptune, whose worry-creased frown melted. The CPU began singing in a soft, gentle, yet broken and off-key voice. "Someday, I'll come, back to our big ol' city, and you're gonna be waitin' there for me. Hmm hm, hmm hm..."

For nearly a minute, Neptune hummed to the same tune and continued to pat Nepgear's hair. Despite the cracks in the older girl's voice, Nepgear smiled and almost giggled. To see Neptune acting normally, for the most part, was a huge relief. The Candidate closed her eyes and leaned against the small body of her sister to savor the moment. At times like these, she most felt the presence of Purple Heart—even though the deity was much, much farther away than Neptune of Planeptune was at this moment.