In a Civilized Manner

ODEEN. ADALAN KINGDOM.

Edris woke up to the faint bubbling of machinery and the cool sensation of sterile air against his skin.

A sharp, metallic scent filled his nose, accompanied by an undertone of something medically sterile. He reflexively sat up, letting the lime green, semi-transparent liquid trickle down his hair.

“Where–” His attempt at speaking was unfortunately interrupted by a series of coughing fits that made the insides of his stomach churn.

“Take it slow,” a familiar voice said. Edris instinctively turned towards the source, trying to peer through the bleariness.

“Yukioe?”

With his vision finally clearing up, it took him a moment to orient himself and realize he was lying in a medical pod, the curved glass lid above him gleaming under the harsh white lights of the room.

Edris found the situation quite ironic, really. As a previous Soul Patcher, he would have tended to the patients in this very position with Yukioe.

Who would have thought the roles would be reversed one day, with himself as the one waking up on the wrong side of the pod?

He shifted slightly, feeling the stiffness in his limbs, and took in the sight of the familiar figure standing at the foot of the pod. Behind Yukioe was another man, probably his current work partner. He bore a look of mild relief on his face as he saw Edris stirring.

"Glad to see you’re back in one piece. It may not be my place to say, but you should really thank my coworker for jumping in when you’re in a state like…" The man’s voice trailed off. He wiped beads of sweat off his forehead, gaze shifting between the two.

“…You two know each other?”

Yukioe looked away while Edris shrugged a smile.

The man drew his head back, eyes narrowing.

“Huh,” he said. “I guess I’ll leave it to you two to figure it out then. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to report to the faction.”

“Good work, Soro,” Yukioe said to his coworker. “When you take the elixirs from the front desk, don’t forget to register your worker ID.”

Soro flinched halfway out the door. He glanced back at them over his shoulders. “I planned to do exactly that.”

Yukioe nodded a curt acknowledgement, and thanked him before the man turned and left the room. The door slid shut with a soft hiss, leaving just Edris and Yukioe alone in the sterile, silent space.

Yukioe stepped closer, his expression a mix of anger and professional detachment. "So you’ve survived."

“Guess I did.” Edris rose to his feet, the slimy liquid drooping down his body, attempting to drag him down as he did so.

He wore the same clothing as before the Labyrinth pull: a loose white sweater over a dark turtleneck and pants. The Calvest that Dolan Zacriya had gifted him before he left was neatly folded on the draw by the wall, and beside it laid his black combat boots.

”Symptoms?” Yukioe asked.

Edris closed his eyes for a moment, doing a quick self-diagnosis.

His mind felt muddled, like someone had poured gunk all over it, making every thought slow and laborious. Thinking had never felt so strenuous; it was like trying to peer through a foggy window, the details of his own thoughts obscured and frustratingly out of reach.

As a former Soul Patcher, Edris recognized the symptoms immediately—a common side effect after the Labyrinth, one that also served as confirmation of the post-Labyrinth amnesia.

Like the others, his memories were gone, and with them, any sense of what had transpired during his time in the Labyrinth.

He opened his eyes, focusing on Yukioe. "Splinter Syndrome?" he asked, his voice raspy from disuse.

“You?” Yukioe rolled his eyes. "With a mental space like yours, you’d be the last person I’d expect to need patching."

"Hm." Edris nodded absentmindedly.

It was strange; on one hand, he knew the man had probably uttered a sarcastic remark, yet he couldn’t seem to perceive where the actual sarcasm lay.

More words left Yukioe’s mouth, but Edris found his voice fading in and out with his moving lips.

Edris tried to ground himself in the present, but the disassociation lingered, like a stubborn shadow he couldn’t quite shake. He’d been aware of the aftermath of Labyrinth amnesia, but experiencing it firsthand was still quite something.

Edris took a deep breath.

Although he felt distant from the reality around him, the fact that he was still alive was a victory in itself.

His gaze wandered around the room, landing on a small sack on the counter. The sight of the laveric diamonds inside lifted his spirits considerably, a tangible reward that hinted at some success, even if he couldn’t remember it.

The next instant, the light in his eyes dimmed when Yukioe stepped into his line of sight, blocking the diamonds from view.

"So, you don’t recall anything that happened in the Labyrinth?"

Edris blinked slowly, processing the man’s words.

"Seems like it," he admitted with a shrug.

Yukioe’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you remember what happened in your mental space?"

Edris looked at him, this time truly confused. "What are you trying to say?”

Yukioe sighed, clearly reluctant about something, but eventually, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook. He tore out an empty piece of paper, biting off his pen cap and scribbling something quickly on the sheet.

"Here," he said, handing the slip to Edris.

The dark-haired man took the paper, frowning as he examined it.

"Someone in your mental space gave this to me when I entered,” Yukioe explained. “She told me to give this to you once you regained your memories, and to tell you to come find her."

Someone was in his mental space?

Edris took in the content of the paper. It comprised a trail of teleportation coordinates in Odeen, rather far from city centre. He folded the paper in half and stuffed it into his pocket.

“Who is it?”

Yukioe looked at him with a complicated gaze.

“…A plushy.”

“Pardon me?”

Edris stared at his old coworker, bewildered. If it weren’t for the fact that Yukioe never joked, he would have thought that the man was intentionally messing with him.

”A plushy?” He asked again.

”A plushy,” Yukioe repeated. "She called herself Mia Vyrus."

Mia Vyris was with him in the Labyrinth? As a plushy? Or did she somehow catch him right as he was about to return to reality?

The whole situation felt surreal, like listening to a distant story that had nothing to do with him. The absurdity of Yukioe’s statement aside, the fact that he had no recollection of anything he was saying was unsettling, more dangerous than he had anticipated.

Edris spent the next couple of seconds in silence. He needed to a moment to think, to piece together what little he could.

He knew himself well—if something significant had happened in the Labyrinth or his mental space, he would have planned for the memory loss. He would have left clues, made arrangements, knowing that the current him wouldn’t be able to do anything without those safeguards.

If the situation had called for it.

“Are you going to visit the address?”

Under Yukioe’s speculating gaze, Edris laid his hands out, shaking his head.

“Not now.”

Ultimately, he decided to wait it out. He wasn’t the one to take initiative for thing like this, especially when it came from people he were barely acquainted with.

The only person Edris truly trusted was himself. He had no doubts that the past him had made adequate preparations, knowing the present him wouldn’t take immediate action.

If nothing else new comes up in the next few days, it’d mean that whatever happened within the Labyrinth wasn’t worth bringing outside to the real world, and that he was free to welcome his lifetime worth of luxury with open arms.

With a faint smile, he looked at Yukioe. "Guess we’ll just have to wait and see what I had planned."

Yukioe turned away with a scoff. “I doubt it’s anything worth seeing.”

Edris chuckled softly. The laughter felt distant, like it belonged to someone else.

For now, all he could do was trust in the plans he had laid out before. How did the saying go? Unexpected luck is bound to follow an unplanned disaster.

“I have a feeling that luck is on my side this time.” He hummed, ignoring his coworker’s eye roll that followed.

Edris looked around him.

“Come to think of it, where are the others?”

“You mean your little ‘business partner’ and the Moons’ son?” Yukioe set his arms on his hips, his head tilting towards him in interrogation. “That reminds me. How did you get acquainted with the Lucid Clan?”

“The… the who?” Edris couldn’t help but react with another question.

All his knowledge of the Lucid Clan remained on the surface level. For one, he knew that they were in close collaboration with the Moon family, and that one of them would be in the Labyrinth to assist Celio from the shadows.

Celio’s mother, Grace, had told him that, unlike ordinary people, the clan members could somehow recall the events within the Labyrinth.

If, as Yukioe observed, he did end up teaming with the clan member…

“How did you know the person was from the Lucid Clan?”

“The scar. It was so recognizable, and his whole aura was just…different. He was with your group when you all came out of the Labyrinth, but left right after explaining the situation,” Yukioe said, only to press a palm on his forehead the next second. “Ah. What’s the use of asking you? You can’t even remember.”

“...”

Before Edris could say another word, the man strode over and tossed him his personal belongings. Yukioe signalled to the exit with a jab of his thumb.

“The Moons’ son was taken away by his family right after we carried you onto the stretcher. Families like them have their own professional Soul Patchers to use for post-Labyrinth examinations,” he said. “As for the little girl, she received her preventative treatment earlier than you and is now resting back at the cabin.”

Edris arched an eyebrow. “I’m surprised Ives listened to you.”

“She didn’t in the beginning. But I told her you’d be disappointed if she waited for you miserably overnight. Also told her it would stunt her growth.”

“Good call.” Edris nodded in satisfaction.

As expected from Yukioe. Unlike him, the man was always great at dealing with young children.

“Now, if you’re done resting, come with me to the administrative section to report your experience.” Yukioe looked like a true, professional Soul Patcher as he threw out all the procedural steps.

Watching his past coworker, Edris couldn’t help but think back to their time working together at the small, private clinic. Unlike the capital’s certified Soul Patchers, they mainly dealt with civilians who’d been pulled from the Labyrinth on chance and did not have enough funds to pay for the preventative treatments offered by the Healing Faction.

“Say–how much do they pay you for being here?” he asked.

“Not enough for me to be dealing with you,” Yukioe said flatly.

“Unfortunate.” Edris sighed. His head perked up the next instant, as though reminded of something.

“Spill.” Yukioe sighed.

“Have you seen… a man with white hair?” Edris asked, gesturing with his hands a rounded shape. “Or maybe a pink floating ball? A little fluffy, about the size of my fist. He looks kind of like a spirling.”

Yukioe stared at him as if he was insane.

“Maybe you do need the preventative treatment after all.”

Edris watched as the man fell deep in thought, seriously considering the option. He considered going a bit more specific for a proper confirmation, but knowing Yukioe, he was almost certain that he’d really throw him back into the medical pod.

But that led to another question.

If Ace wasn’t with them upon exiting Labyrinth, then where was he?

***

MOUNT ECHO. ADALAN KINGDOM.

Ace stood at the edge of a cliff, the jagged peaks stretching out beneath him.

Upon returning to reality, he had found himself devoid of all form–just like it’d been during his first meeting with Edris. However, this time, no one was there to respond.

His scattered consciousness had regarded the Soul Patchers take Edris, who had fallen unconscious the moment they reentered the real world, away to the Healing Faction. He had tried to call out like he did before, but nothing.

This wasn’t unprecedented. Ace had a feeling the instability of mana levels may affect his form, given how it’d already occurred twice in the Labyrinth.

With Edris gone for now, he had to find a way to sustain his mana before it became further dispersed.

His consciousness wandering about, Ace had expanded his sensory to detect any traces of mana that may be potentially of use.

That led him to the foot of Mount Echo.

The landmark’s presence marked the divide between the South region of the kingdom and the Northern Lands. At night, the mountain loomed over civilization like a dormant threat.

The sheer height of the mountain was enough to deter most, but for Ace, it had been little more than an inconvenience. In his formless self, he had ascended unnoticed, slipping past the kingdom's troops and evading the mana detectors that guarded the mountain’s treacherous paths.

To his surprise, as he climbed higher, the density of mana energy increased. With every step, it swirled around him in invisible currents with increasing density. It wasn’t long before that energy became so potent that it forced him back into his human form—something that should have been impossible.

His pink fluff form was a safeguard, a way to avoid detection. Until now, the only way for him to retain his human shape was through Edris’s massive mana channel, a power the traveller himself could not use but could tap into with the Distributor.

Yet, here, on Mount Echo, the mana was so thick, so potent, that it overrode even that.

Why?

The white-haired man reeled his mind back to the present. Sitting cross-legged at the cliff's edge, Ace felt a rare sense of relaxation. The midnight air was frigid, the drop sheer and unforgiving, but it brought with it a kind of peace he seldom experienced back on the ground.

A sense of peace; a sense of familiarity.

Ace narrowed his eyes.

There was no mistaking it.

It wasn’t his first time up here.

The gusts of wind roared up from the abyss, whipping through his hair and tugging at his clothes, yet Ace remained unmoved, his gaze distant.

He closed his eyes, letting the fresh mountain air wash over him.

Historical records from the library books he’d memorized said little about each individual conqueror. As a collective, they were the heroes who had saved humanity against the God of Forsake, marking the end of what was now called the Creatos Era.

Of the seven, the most historically recognized were The Given, Toren Zacriya, and The Archivist, Eins Everlund.

Coincidentally, both of them were mentioned back in the Labyrinth.

Ace didn’t know why he’d kept his memories upon reentering the real world. He and Edris had discussed this possibility, but neither were sure it would happen.

However, sitting up here by Mount Echo had got him thinking. About the Labyrinth, about the encounter with the Nest member.

And particularly about Meng Weisha.

Ace always trusted his instincts.

Despite her noted acquaintance with at least two of the Seven Conquerors, Ace didn’t find her name mentioned in any of the historical records. Not even once.

Was it because she was an existence exclusively in the Labyrinth?

Or had her name been purposely wiped from the records?

In the diary, Meng Weisha mentioned Mount Echo, how she had watched the sunrise with her own companions on this very same mountain that had lured him here.

Ace pressed his palms onto the rough surface of the ground, feeling the mountain beneath his fingertips.

His mind drifted back almost a thousand years, imagining Meng Weisha standing at this exact spot. Was it possible that she, too, had pressed her hands to this very ground, searching for answers in the same way he was now?

The thought was tantalizing, and Ace focused intently, trying to sense any lingering connection, any trace of a clue, any lingering presence.

But despite being at the heart of this mana-rich site, despite the sense of unmistakable familiarity, no particular memories stirred within him. The earth remained silent, offering no whispers of the past, no insights for the future.

Ace couldn’t help but feel a tinge of despondency. He had hoped for something—a sign, a feeling, anything that might bridge the gap between him and his forgotten past.

He lifted his gaze and peered forward.

The sun rose through the fog, its warmth slowly expanding past the horizon. The thick mist blurred the lines between sky and land, creating an ethereal landscape where it was difficult to distinguish beginning from end.

Legends stated that Mount Echo was the closest place in the mortal realm to the Realm of the Clouds, where the deities were said to reside.

If such deities truly existed, they would probably know what had happened to him, why he had lost all his memories, wouldn’t they?

A sudden, almost reckless urge rose within Ace—the desire to test the legend.

Before he could move on with the impulse, something below the cliffside caught his attention.

Ace's finely tuned sensory skills, now heightened by the mana in this mountain, picked up an abnormal spike of energy far below, within the dense expanse of the jungle.

The Dene Jungle, known for its dangerous reputation and the many who had perished within its tangled depths, was not a place for anyone to enter lightly. Yet, someone was there, moving hazardously through the labyrinth of trees and undergrowth.

Ace zoomed in on his vision, keening in on the figure below. The fog and the thick canopy made it difficult to see clearly, but after a while, he could just make out the shape of a person navigating the terrain. With one last glance at the fog-shrouded horizon, Ace turned his focus entirely on the situation below.

“....”

What he didn’t expected was to recognize the figure.

Ace’s eyes narrowed as he identified the familiar face, his salmon-pink hair like a blot of spotlight among the land of green.

"Magnus Vyris?"

What was an archmage from the Zacriya Kingdom doing all the way here?