“I suppose it’s hard for anyone that’s not me to finish that book in a few days.” Nexus stated quietly. “But you’re at least trying your hardest to learn, so that’s proof enough that you aren’t wholly dependent on me. You’ve gone through the first half of the book, which is the easiest part by taking more than a week, so I guess it can’t be helped.”

Somehow, Nexus’ words, despite being empty of any mockery or disdain whatsoever, was rather grating on Gaius’ ears. The boy took a deep breath and quashed the small spark of emotion in his chest. “A for effort, isn’t it?”

“For effort, yes.” The statue’s face was lacking of any of the usual little tics Nexus had exhibited once in a while during conversation. “But you should strive to think beyond just that.”

“What do you mean?”

The sculpture turned towards the ball of light, where eight rings of silver light were now surrounding it. Now that Gaius was initiated in the way of formations, he could sense a faint tether that connected the prison cell-like structure to the ground below them. He knew that Nexus had set up a formation of sorts to protect the house and to insulate Nakama from the Constellation Scorpio, but as it was also powering this…prison.

“I’ll wipe out whatever will this ball of energy has left,” said Nexus. “Ready your Terminus. We should be able to imbue the weapon with even greater power using this.”

Gaius nodded and unsheathed the weapon.

As for Nexus, two sigils began to take form around him. Without much fanfare, they floated towards the formation, turning into a tube-like item on the way. The spinning rings of silver ground to a halt as the tube attached itself onto the formation, and strands of gold light began to rise from the sphere in the middle.

“Place the Terminus at the other side. Remember to layer the divinity evenly over the blade to maximum efficiency,” Nexus instructed.

Line after line of gold line began to fix itself onto the Terminus, but as far as Gaius could tell, there was no change to the dagger’s physical structure. The lines of light vanished seconds after being spat out of the formation, and it took all of the boy’s concentration to ensure that there was no uneven side to the process.

Minutes went by before the tube-like structure abruptly vanished.

“That’s enough for now,” said Nexus. “Too much can be a bad thing. The Terminus, right now, looks like a faint glow to anyone who is sensitive to divinity. Add a bit more, and it’ll start to look like a small sun.”

“Got it.” Gaius looked at the Terminus, which didn’t seem to have undergone that many changes, and then stowed it in his clothes.

“And I’ve found something else,” said Nexus. “There’s a remnant memory locked away in the arm. I can’t sense anyone’s will on it, but diving into it has its own dangers.”

“A memory?” Gaius frowned. “Is that even possible?”

“Anything’s possible in this world, Master Gaius.” The sculpture’s words were tranquil, distant. “With enough resolve, even ants can become gods. Besides…you’re probably familiar with the act of reliving memories, no?”

Gaius froze. “You know?!”

“Hard not to, when you freeze up once in a while with a glazed look in your eyes,” Nexus replied. “I’ve noted a few occasions, but they don’t seem to happen often. In fact, I get a feeling that the frequency is falling.”

“The frequency is falling?” The boy frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“A gut instinct, Master Gaius.” The sculpture mulled for a moment. “I suppose that answer won’t really satisfy you. But something within me says that the descent of the elemental gods has had profound implications on anyone from another world, up to and including you.”

“It’s a conjecture of yours.” Gaius narrowed his eyes. The sculpture, as far as he knew, had no information about the regarding the aftermath of the great gods’ descent onto Orb. While this meant that it was rather clueless regarding this aspect, it also enabled Nexus to make and voice out conjectures regarding them.

And only a fool would ignore any conjectures Nexus had.

“Yes,” said the sculpture. “It is. But this is a concern we can definitely look at when we’re less pre-occupied. Our primary concern now is, having strengthened the Terminus, is our approach towards the memory sealed with this ball of divinity. Do you want to use it now?”

“It’s a memory of Scorpio’s, right?”

“Affirmative.”

Gaius stared at the ball of gold light. “What do you think is inside? And would experiencing it have any effects on me? Or is it just purely experiencing a memory?”

“That is…hard to say,” Nexus replied. “I only know that it’s a memory, and I’ve indeed read about the dangers associated with diving into memories that are not your own, but that’s about it. There are dangers, yes. But to someone as abnormal as you, I am not sure what these dangers might mutate into.”

“Abnormal…” Gaius felt an urge to juggle a sculpture for a few seconds, and then shook his head.

“What, you have an opinion?” Nexus lolled its head, and then returned to seriousness. At that sight, Gaius felt some modicum of calm return to him — the sculpture’s earlier behaviour and words had felt a bit…stilted, as though as something was about to happen.

Gaius smiled. “No, you’re right.”

“So? Are you going to relive this memory of Scorpio’s?”

“If it might offer me insight on an enemy I must kill,” said Gaius, “I don’t see why not. Bring it out. I’ll use it.”

“Very well, Master Gaius.” The rings of silver light began to spin on their horizontal axis, creating an illusion of a solid ball bearing. Golden light flickered intermittently, spilling onto the ground to create a single, simple circle.

“It’s done,” said Nexus. “Just step in, and you’ll be in his memory.”

“That simple?”

“Yes, Master Gaius. But…be careful, at least. I’m not sure what kind of memory this is.”

“Got it.” The boy smiled, and stepped into the circle.