|Ace>

  This time, we headed down to the southern end of the Constellation District. Where Sunfire was a riot of color and noise, this was an industrial zone in shades of gray and brown, punctuated by the occasional hiss of steam or clang of metal. The warehouses stood like sleeping giants, most of them abandoned. Our footsteps echoed between the tall buildings, the snow-dusted ground muffling the usual city sounds to create an almost eerie quiet.

  The 'studio' there was not a rented business but an empty warehouse that had been co-opted for the work of a sculptor. It was a clean and open space with wide windows on the front wall that flooded the whole shop in natural light.

  The entire back wall was lined with shelving units filled with small chests labeled with what they contained: 'Monster Claws', 'Broken Gears', 'Shattered Gemstones (Blue)', 'Bent Swords', 'Torn Pages', 'Spent Casings', 'Broken Arrows'. Hundreds of containers, each holding items most players would vendor without a second thought. That's because where others see clutter to be thrown out, our next subject sees possibility.

  In the center of the room stood a figure working on a spiraling tower of metal and bone. She carefully selected arrows from a pile on a blanket and inserted them at specific angles through the structure. Her nameplate identified her as 'Astraea'.

  "I don't really 'build' sculptures." she explained, sifting through the snapped arrows to select another. "I just rearrange what's already there." She slipped the new arrow into place, using it to pin some other pieces together. "Every object has potential energy - not just in game mechanics, but in form. The curve of a broken blade, the angle of a snapped arrow, the texture of a monster's claw. I just find where they want to go."

  But in addition to finding uses for things no one else wants, the sculptures are bound by the game's despawn timer - they will begin to fall apart after a couple days. Depending on how and when critical parts are installed, some fall apart overnight, and others linger a week before vanishing. None are permanent, and that's exactly how Astraea wants it.

  "All things are temporary." she said with a shrug. "Even rocks break and continents shift. Stars are born and die. Our time with life is a fleeting thing, and even what is left behind will change too, giving birth to a new landscape and new people to inhabit it. We get this tiny window of time to exist, to create, to experience. So I just take what's here and make something that can be enjoyed in the moment."

  She guided us through the space, showing us smaller design experiments in various stages of development. One was a fountain-like structure where broken glass and crystal fragments caught the light, creating miniature rainbows across the floor. Another resembled a tree with rusty gears forming the trunk and torn pages of books fluttering like leaves from twisted metal branches.

  Her most ambitious project to date was a monumental sculpture for a Protectorate fundraising gala made entirely from the discarded equipment of fallen adventurers. By the artist's request on donating it, not even photos exist of it anymore. "Those who were there experienced it. That's enough."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Cherry said, "Must be hard to fill out a resume - yeah, it was there; just trust me."

  Astraea laughed. "I don't need a resume. People who want my work understand what they're getting."

  "Do you think it's a shame that people in the future won't be able to enjoy your work?" I asked.

  Astraea met my gaze steadily. "No. They'll have their own works; their own things to care about. They don't need me." She gestured around the warehouse, then toward the city beyond. "Hell, anything we do here is getting wiped when the servers go down. Nothing lasts. That just makes it more special while it's here."

  I finished scribbling the last of my notes as we stepped back into the cold air of the industrial district.

  Cherry hugged herself, her breath forming clouds that drifted up and dissolved against the gray sky. "I have never dreaded my own existence more than when talking to that lady. Like, thanks for the reminder that we're all just temporary smudges on the cosmic windshield."

  "Yeah..." I tucked my notebook into my pocket. "But hey, two down, one to go! I messaged our last interviewee, so we can head over as soon as they get back to me!"

  "See? I told you we could crank this thing out today!"

  "We've still got to write the thing, Cher."

  "Details, details!" she said, waving dismissively. "We're on a roll! Nothing can stop the journalistic juggernaut that is Ace Reporter, Cherry Keane!"

  I was about to reply when something - no, someone - brushed past my face, so close that the sleeve of their shirt rubbed against my cheek. The person kept moving, not breaking stride or acknowledging that they'd nearly collided with me. They just kept speedwalking down the empty street.

  "Hey, watch it!" Cherry called after them, but they didn't turn or respond.

  "What was that about?" I asked, checking my pockets to make sure nothing had been taken. Nothing had, so I brushed it off.

  However, as we continued across the street, someone started hissing our names. "Cherry! Ace! Over here!"

  We both turned, searching for the source of the voice. It took a moment to spot Livitha skulking in an alley between two warehouses. Cherry and I exchanged glances with raised eyebrows before cautiously approaching. Livitha remained half-hidden in the alley, her eyes constantly scanning the street behind us.

  "Hey, uh, Livitha." I said. "Good to see you escaped the King's Men."

  Her mouth twitched in what might have been a smile or a grimace. "Of course I did; they're King's Men. Even the Prince's cronies could outsmart them."

  "Did they get that thing to camp?" Cherry asked.

  "The welding machine? Yes, the engineers are using it to build equipment now. But that adventurer that just passed by - you saw them, right?"

  I glanced back at the now-empty street. "They were hard to miss - practically walked into me for no reason."

  "Was there anything else you noticed?" Livitha asked. "Smell?"

  "Not really. Seemed like a normal busy person to me, if, you know, a little rude."

  "Typical city slicker!" Cherry said. "The more people, the less humanity, right?"

  Livitha didn't share our casual attitude. Her brow furrowed, and she leaned out of the alley slightly to stare in the direction the person had gone. "I'm not sure about that. They're not the first."

  "It's a big city." I said. "You're going to find a weirdo for every corner." I cleared my throat. "Look, uh, I'm sorry, but our boss told us not to talk to you guys. At least for a few days - we have to get work done."

  Livitha's mouth thinned into a line. "I wish we could all simply say 'I don't want to be a part of this.' But fine, go about your business."

  Without another word, she slipped out of the alley and hurried in the direction the person had gone.

  "That's strange." I said, staring after her.

  "Do you think any NPCs have ever spied on us?" Cherry asked.

  "Why, you worried they'll find out you're a freak?"

  "No, I'm worried they'll find out I'm actually normal."

  "You wish." I snorted.

  A notification popped up on my HUD - I had a new message.

  "And there's our final artist. Come on, we've got an article to finish!"