"Ugh…"
I woke up to a familiar ceiling. The hypnotic movements of the ceiling fan put me at ease. It never sped up or slowed down, but kept a consistent pace.
I think I'll nap for a bit longer. I'm sure Aussie wouldn't mind.
"Good morning, Cassius."
"—?!"
The sudden shock of Aussie's arrival caught me off guard, my body shooting up in surprise.
"How long have you been there…?"
"Long enough."
"…"
Knowing Aussie, that could likely mean a few minutes or a few hours. There was no point dwelling on it, though. I had something else to attend to anyway.
"How long have I been asleep?" I asked.
"Around two days. The injuries you sustained were serious."
"Damn, I wasted too much time."
"No, don't think like that," Aussie protested. "What matters is that you completed your objective and got out alive. Do not diminish your own accomplishments. It's a bad habit of yours."
"It's because it's me that I can talk like this. It's less of a bad habit and more of an honest reflection."
"…"
Her expression didn't change, but something about it felt off, like I had said something I wasn't supposed to.
"…"
She didn't say anything, but she didn't look away either.
She's waiting for me to apologize, isn't she?
I let out a small sigh before saying, "Alright, alright. I'll try to be easier on myself. Just stop making that face."
"Hehe." Aussie let out a small chuckle, her mouth upturned into a smile. "I'm surprised you're so perceptive. Are all humans like this?"
"Well, the competent ones are at least."
"Are humans generally competent?"
"No. Definitely not."
"I see…talking with humans must be very difficult."
"Talking isn't all that bad. It's just…people don't say what they mean, or they say it too late, or they say it wrong and pretend that counts."
"That's strange," she said. "You communicate just fine when you're about to die."
"…"
Her comment was a bit unsettling, to be honest.
"Aussie…you shouldn't make comments about someone's death like that. People will think you're creepy."
"Ah—apologies."
Even now, I can't get a clear read on how she thinks. She was sweet, sure—but her lines of reasoning could come off as vague at best and nonsensical at worst.
She was an Aberration, after all, an accumulation of possibilities.
In other words, her name wasn't 'Aussie,' it couldn't have been, yet I called her that anyway. It was the only way I could stay by her side.
"So, Aussie," I said awkwardly, trying to shift the topic of conversation. "When are we going after the next Sub-Aberration?"
"It's Death-Paration , actually, and we won't be going after the next one anytime soon."
"Eh?! But I'm already healed from the previous battle."
"It's not about your injuries." She shook her head lightly. "Your powers are developing at an unnatural rate. Your body hasn't adjusted yet. If you keep pushing forward like this, you'll break."
"That's not good news…"
"What do you mean?" Aussie said with a curious gaze. "This is the perfect opportunity."
…Opportunity for what?
Before I could press further, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of bed. I didn't argue with her. I never argued with her, really.
———
We walked through the streets of Baroque City in silence. The further South we went, the more the city changed.
The residential stillness of the north gave way to a bustling, lively intensity. The lights grew harsher. The streets narrowed.
Even the air itself felt crowded.
"We're here," Aussie said.
I looked up, only to be met with a foreign sight. An alien sight. A terrifying sight.
The streets were overflowing with Aberrations gathered in clusters. They occupied every corner of the district, laughing, shouting, and dancing—if those motions could even be considered 'dance.' Their bodies, many of which were intangible, would twist in ways that made no anatomical sense, yet they carried a strange, casual confidence belonging only to human beings.
Some even wore clothing—jackets, dresses, and masks—but their outfits lacked clear composition, as though a child had put on whatever they could find in their wardrobe, without a parent's guidance.
It was an imitation. It was a performance.
Street vendors lined the sidewalks, selling masks shaped like golden beasts, mercurial serpents, and things that belong to neither category. Strings of decoration hung between lampposts, swaying gently above the crowd. They were almost ceremonial.
It was lively.
So, so lively.
"It's...a festival?" I muttered.
"Something like that," Aussie replied nonchalantly.
I watched as one Aberration handed another a drink. Their hands overlapped, merged, and separated.
I watched as one Aberration handed another a drink. Their hands overlapped, merged, and separated. No one seemed to notice, and no one seemed to care.
They were a functioning society.
They were a lively society.
And yet, not a single human being lived among them.
I could not help but cover my mouth and clench my pained stomach, forcing back the nausea emanating from my viscera.
"What's wrong?" asked Aussie.
Initially, I couldn't answer because I couldn't quite put my thoughts into words. But I understood one thing with absolute certainty—my ideal world, an ordinary, every-day world, could not exist here.
"No, it's nothing."
"You're lying. Your heart is beating at around 172% of its normal rate. You're experiencing a severe bout of stress."
"Wait, you can sense that?"
"I have my ways," Aussie replied with a mischievous grin.
"Then there's no point in hiding it, I guess."
"You fear Aberrations, yes?"
"No, I don't. It's not exactly fear, it's more like...I'm in a place where I don't belong."
"Even though you yourself are an Aberration?"
"Yeah."
"Even though I myself am an Aberration?"
"..."
I hated it when she said such things.
"If you truly feel such aversion towards us Aberrations, then it would be best to become neighbors, correct?"
She pulled me at my wrist and guided me through Downtown Baroque, or at least, whatever this place was.
We first visited a street vendor wearing an eastern outfit, perhaps the equivalent of a male kimono, with black Geta and a small hand fan. He fanned himself incessantly, despite his body being composed of a gaseous substance. It made me wonder whether he was even capable of feeling 'heat,' or whether he was merely imitating something he had observed in a human.
"Welcome! Welcome!" the vendor said excitedly. "What would ya' like? A couple's duo? If so, I'll give ye' a 10 fa' 2!"
His accent was kinda hard to understand, but Aussie replied casually, as though this were a natural occurrence.
"We'll take the duo, please."
They exchanged the currency and masks, as in a typical sale.
"Here, you can have this one."
Aussie handed me one of the masks in the set. It was a wolf mask, though it covered only the upper half of its face. It looked almost cute, in a way.
"See? You can be the wolf, and I can be the lamb."
"...That feels backward."
"Does it?" she asked, tilting her head as she raised the lamb mask to her face. "I think it's quite fitting."
Before I could probe the meaning of her words, she slipped on her mask.
Something changed. It wasn't her presence—no, that remained just as strange as ever—but the impression she gave off shifted. The sharpness in her gaze dulled beneath the soft, painted eyes of the lamb. The edges felt... blurred, like an idea being rounded down to something more digestible.
"Go on, try yours." Her voice was slightly muffled behind her mask.
"Do I have to?"
"You don't have to do anything, Cassius," she replied sweetly. "But if you want to stay here, you should probably play along."
I stared at the wolf mask in my hands. Its expression was frozen in a half-snarl, half-smile-an entity caught between unrestrained anger and childish amusement. The craftsmanship was crude, though clearly intentional. It wasn't trying to be perfect, after all.
I brought it to my face.
The moment it settled over my skin, a faint presence pressed back against me.
"...!"
The noise of the festival didn't quieten, but something about it changed. The overlapping voices became clearer, more distinct. The erratic movements of the Aberrations slowed. I could follow them clearly. I could understand them. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough.
"You're adjusting well," she said.
"What just happened?"
"Nothing, really. You've just become a tad more accepting, that's all. This is a world of perception, is it not? The masks aren't perfect, but they'll let you glimpse the world through my eyes."
The way they moved. The way they interacted. It no longer felt completely alien.
A passing Aberration brushed against my shoulder. This time, I didn't recoil.
"Strange..." I muttered.
"What is?"
"I still don't feel like I belong here."
"That's fine. No one feels like they belong after a few minutes."
"Then, when will I become comfortable?" I asked.
She stepped a little closer, her lamb mask inches from my wolf's snout.
"Who knows? For now, let's not worry about such things. The real fun is getting started."