It had been twenty minutes and the anomaly within Arc had yet to stop its absorption of Xan.
This was cause for slight amounts of a variety of emotions to occur within Merri's psyche.
Concern was generated from the fact that she was out of her gel and the draining showed no signs of stopping. In fact, she guessed that it had only increased its rate of Xan consumption. She couldn't be sure as she started measuring closer to the end of the jar's contents, but she felt certain that the level of Xan increased at the beginning and end of her pseudo-diagnosis had been slightly different. Unsettling for sure, but once again not categorically a bad thing.
Suspicion was aroused as a consequence. If something wasn't good and wasn't bad, then what was it? Nothing in regards to Xan was EVER neutral in her experience. Everything, to differing degrees, would be a boon or bane to someone. Often times, it would be both. In that way it could be said that certain things were neutral as the benefits and detriments provided were equal, but it was always possible to manipulate circumstances to give yourself an advantage and make the best of that thing. Whatever was happening to Arc was wholly outside of her ability to determine heads or tails of.
True, it was absorbing Xan, but she assured herself that this amount was FAR beyond anything Arc should have any right to bear with his body. But nothing was happening as a result of the Xan.
This resulted in the appearance of a third emotion, confusion. Just where the in the hell was all of the Xan going? By the very nature of Xan it could not be destroyed. Created, most definitely, but it could never be destroyed. So what was happening to it? Enough Xan should have dispersed from the gel into the air by this point that the concentration should have experienced a drastic change, and yet it seemed like there was less than what she started with.
This did at the very least confirm it was going somewhere, which was the primary factor in her fourth emotion, Fear.
What she was afraid of was that something that nobody would be able to handle was occurring inside of Arc at the moment. She could not help but crease her brow at the thought that maybe, just maybe, the common knowledge that Xan is incapable of being destroyed is wrong.
Perhaps the proper conditions had simply never been met before.
What would that mean for Arc and his future? If there was something inside of him 'eating' the Xan, would he ever be able to cultivate? If that was the case then his options for life would be greatly diminished. Placing Arc back onto the bed, she exited the room making haste for Kelvin's chambers.
-----
Arc was now significantly more panicked than he was mere minutes prior. He might not be the best at it, but even he could tell when someone was deeply disturbed by something. Before Merri left, she looked like she had seen a ghost.
'Perhaps she had.'
That thought honestly scared him, and he looked around frantically to confirm.
'No ghost. For now.'
That actually brought up an interesting question for Arc. Does this world have ghosts? Not just stories about ghosts, but legitimate phantom creatures?
'Why do I know what a ghost is?' Was his next question.
To be fair, it was a valid question. Why DOES he know what a ghost is? That has not been mentioned to him before as far as he can remember, but it seems like an odd bit of information to be left to him considering the current extent of his knowledge.
He doesn't even know about the things he doesn't know about, but he knows about a vague concept like 'pride' and about something as random and strange as a ghost.
The fact that he knows that he doesn't know about the things he doesn't know about is also quite strange to him as well. It's kind of like saying that he doesn't know the taste of a fruit he has no knowledge of, without ever being asked the question of whether he has eaten or even heard of that fruit.
A strange predicament that doesn't feel right to him. If he knows that there are things that he doesn't know he doesn't know about, then surely that must be false because he knows that he doesn't know about those things. But apparently whatever they did to him in Anima Operanti made that illogical statement valid.
How strange.
Regardless, Arc was still worried about what Merri found that resulted in such a grim expression. He would need to be more careful.
-----
Kelvin was sprawled out over his desk. His but in the seat and his head face down in a pile of paper, you could be forgiven for mistaking him to be some form of artwork on the suffering of the government official.
Taking a closer look would reveal a small puddle of water around his face that was smudging all of the ink. No, this wasn't drool, and he wasn't sleeping. These were tears.
He had harmed his little angel boy in his first moment of triumph over the forces of gravity. He walked! And yet not only was the moment forever ruined by his excitement, he had hurt him in the process.
The king of that tribe of big mountain cats found himself in a state of endless remorse.
He had even been told to reflect on it by a subordinate of his!
That made it all the more shocking for him when that same subordinate barged into his office as if she had seen the end of time.
"Kelvin. I need you to look at something for me." Despite the lethargic look on her face, nothing in the way she talked could be qualified as slow.
It was the severity and matter-of-fact-ness that mobilized Kelvin from his stupor. Despite their arguments and spats over his duties, when it came down to the wire they both had trust in the other's abilities and knowledge.
If she needed him to look at something, completely skipping Zerrin meant that it was serious to the point of disaster. That or she realized it was outside of Zerrin's expertise.
Regardless of how serious a situation might seem though, it had to be said that Kelvin looked like the textbook example of a clown at the moment. The ink that had been on the paper was dissolved in his tears and floated to the surface of the paper lake.
To keep it short he had a black and grey ring around the outside of his face, with a tinge of red on his nose as the red ink used in some of the financial papers was heavier than water and sank to the level of his nose.
If the situation was not as serious as it was, Merri would have been rolling on the floor laughing her ass off.