Castor Build Guide — Morimens

If born into an ordinary family, Castor might have grown into a modest young man as warm and steady as a tree. But now, he is the only one among the twins who retained a complete body and soul; he remains silent like a stone, waiting to bury that ember the two of them shared in their youth deep within, never giving up, never wavering. Those already matured wings, capable of stirring up a storm, are now retracted in dormancy, as a bird quietly awaits the moment the cage door opens to once again soar in the sky.

While carrying out a mission on a remote, barren, and little-known plateau far from Londinium, I happened upon an astonishing account in a mountain village with only a handful of residents remaining. On the night the monster appeared, the sky itself seemed shrouded by an eerie shadow. Fog rolled across the ground, and deep within the clouds, a dim green hue emerged—this was by no means a mere natural phenomenon, but the projection of something alive, something breathing. From deep within the desolate mountains, bristling with tall trees, a sudden roar—a howling shockwave—erupted. That shriek, belonging to no known creature, stirred fear from the deepest recesses of human instinct. A massive shadow swept swiftly overhead. The entire mountain shuddered beneath that sky-blotting form, and every branch and leaf trembled in unison, producing a synchronized, whisper-like rustling. "I saw it! Those long, densely packed tentacles, those eyes glowing green—that was without question the source of the horror in the sky. It discovered me, even locked its gaze firmly on me! I truly thought my life would end at that very moment, but perhaps it had just finished a full meal. Before I blacked out from suffocation, it mercifully turned and left." This is the only interview with a confirmed eyewitness. The villager, still deeply mired in nightmares to this day, refused to recall further details. However, from the available evidence, this massive dark-green monster—aside from destroying part of the mountain forest like a passing hurricane and leaving behind a few beast skeletons with only traces of blood remaining—showed no greater aggression, behaving much like a predator feeding normally. Perhaps its approach toward the village was driven by nothing more than idle curiosity. But in the face of any unknown horror, we must prepare for the worst. I will continue my investigation on the @3 Plateau for a period of half a month. Should any other noteworthy signs of danger arise, I will append them to the mission report at once.— Excerpt from "Mythag Overseas Investigation Notes, A.F.3@2 Annual Compendium"

The experience of interacting with Castor often reveals two strikingly contrasting extremes. At first glance, his overly serious and composed demeanor closely resembles that of a middle-aged clerk who has spent twenty years working at Londinium Bank: rigid, unromantic, drained of all vitality by monotonous work. When he frowns, he indeed carries a saint-like presence—calm yet exuding authority without raising his voice. However, upon deeper interaction, you'll discover that all his seemingly conservative behaviors stem from an extremely limited knowledge base and an unparalleled level of bluntness, to the point where he takes any joke directed at him completely seriously. He often clutches a thick notebook, ceaselessly questioning the Keeper as if he were a toddler still learning to speak. Faced with such earnest and sincere gaze, most people find it difficult to express disdain for those naive questions. Beyond scriptures related to various beliefs, Castor is insatiably curious about any new knowledge, especially regarding modern society and science; he has even developed a strong interest in experimental research. After being ruthlessly ignored by Doll: Inferno, he turned to relentlessly pursue poor Winkle, who tries to escape from him daily. If he were in a school classroom, he would be the kind of diligent student adored by teachers—he does not see studying as a burden, but rather views the freedom to absorb interesting knowledge as a heartfelt joy. However, while the teacher might feel content, some boastful Awakeners become infuriated when faced with his endless logical inquiries, unable to answer them, leaving behind a bewildered Castor reflecting on the profound difficulty of learning and the long road ahead.

What is the price of pursuing freedom and escaping the church? The twins anticipated horrifying punishments, even the loss of their own lives, but they never expected that the most painful thing was never the physical torture, but the flaying of the soul. Castor stared with bloodshot eyes as Pollux's treasured, lively and magnificent wings were brutally torn off. His own lips were bitten raw, and he waited in madness and guilt, craving for the same pain to befall him. However, Juliette merely waved her hand, and the severely injured Castor was taken down like a broken sack, thrown into a pool filled with d-slime for the "sin-effacement rite." The black, viscous slime soaked his injured body, seeping into every wound and covering every feather, making it even harder to breathe. In the cycle of wounds repeatedly corroding and healing, the image of the torn-out wings spiraled in Castor's dazed mind. He sat in the small cage in agony, wishing he could bear all the torment for his brother. He wished he had been the one to have his wings pulled out that day, yet later he resolutely thought that he must use these wings to fly with his brother towards freedom again. Castor endured day after day in this hellish pool; time became unperceivable through pain. It felt like waiting for dozens of years, waiting until Castor nearly died again, before he finally crawled out from that dark hell. The eager eyes he faced were met with a cold and disdainful gaze. "Stop looking at me with that disgusting look! Let me give you another piece of advice, Lord Castor. You and I are merely serving as the Twin Divi of the Lightbearer together. Leave me alone unless you have a serious matter to discuss. It gets annoying, you know?" Castor did not understand why his brother had completely forgotten him, but he finally realized the meaning of Juliette's deeply meaningful gaze when he left the pool of sin—because she now tightly held the collar that could control him, a guarantee of her absolute confidence.

Twins are born with nothing but each other, yet Castor continues to savor the taste of loss. Hurt, forgotten, and betrayed—his silent heart is not made of iron, yet he keeps getting back up. "But it's okay. I'll hold on to your share too," Castor said, looking at his disfigured brother with blind faith. In his heart, he clutches tightly to that faint flame, tirelessly resisting the knife-like wind and snow. One day, he will climb to the peak of freedom and use his wings to touch the sky's low-hanging curtain. He believes that at the end of that thorny path must lie the bright daylight his younger brother promised him in childhood.