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‘They are one of the most well-hidden branches of humanity to ever walk the planet,’ Valess had told her. ‘Not only are they capable of manipulating minds and wiping memories like Sparrows, but they also possess an impeccable capacity for camouflage. My advice to you, therefore, is to treat them with exceptional compassion and politeness, because no matter how well you develop your psychic defenses, you may never truly know how many of them are in a room with you at a given moment. You should always assume that you are greatly outnumbered and being judged by attentive observers.’

Needless to say, that hadn’t been the most comforting thing to hear, but she’d tried to take it to heart during each of her visits to this place.

They finally reached the end of the long corridor, and a grand view of the main town opened up before her.

The central plaza drew the eye first, being so open and full of foot traffic. The buildings all around it were not uniform at all, varying in not only size and shape but also color, texture, and decoration. Where one was covered in vines and greenery, another looked as though it had been chiseled out of rock by a sculptor obsessed with geometry. Still another building had a decidedly Jesbolese aesthetic with its swooping roof and curving angles, while the one next to it looked more Intarian with how harsh and pointy it was.

There was even a building that just looked like a big pile of sticks thrown on top of each other. Crazier still, Gema thought she might actually know who lived in that one, despite never having gone inside.

Trees were also a common sight here, but perhaps not as much as one might’ve expected from the Methusel. She’d wondered why that was, and Valess had told her that it was because the Methusel did not care for shelter very much. They preferred to sleep outside, apparently.

Having never witnessed any of them sleeping, she supposed she would just have to take Valess’ word on that.

But that of course meant that all the buildings here were not for the Methusel. They were for the island’s primary inhabitants. The ones whom the Methusel had been protecting since time immemorial.

And Gema could see them out and about, all over the plaza.

Reapers. As numerous as she’d ever seen. And with nary a servant in sight.