act17side

Hunter, let's go!

Oh, my dear little Irene, you've only just learned to control the power of an Inquisition handcannon, and this is how you display it?

If you continue trying to burn the nethersea brand in such a crude manner, Captain Alfonso will be furious, no?

Well... no matter.

You're going to just let them walk away?

Alas, unlike Quintus, I am not in such a hurry. Why would I want to face two Hunters at once and cut my life even shorter?

Is there a difference between a moment and an instant?

There isn't, but seeing you revert to your old temperament sure brings me back, Laurentina. After all, you were in a coma until the first experiment began.

How have you been since you left us?

Specter's lips curl into a subtle smile.

It is the most beautiful smile she's shown tonight.

It's getting faster!

I've already... *pant*... put two more holes in it. Just how much blood can it have in there?!

Two? How did you...?

I'll tell you later. I don't think my stamina is going to last much longer—

—It's been cannibalizing its own kind this whole time! No wonder!

Watch out, it's coming at us!

—Urgh!

Ishar-mla, where is He?

Answer. I wish to know.

You monster!

Before Irene can fire her handcannon, the Seaborn lurches forward.

As the wall cracks audibly, Skadi leaps back with tremendous force, before closing the gap between her and the Seaborn almost instantly.

Her lethal strikes once again bite down on thin air.

What...?

(None of her hits landed?!)

...Insufficient.

Nutrients. Time. All insufficient.

Ishar-mla, we require answers. But, I can feel His presence.

With words, we shall implore.

Ishar-mla, even if He does not answer, it does not mean, He is not there.

Even if He is not there, it does not mean, that our kind, has lost its way.

Our kind, has found its way. We will, seize our own fate.

Survival, the primary goal.

Do all of you love rambling on while trying to kill us?

Don't overthink this, and don't plan on returning to the ocean either!

—Insufficient, far from enough.

But, soon.

Ugh—! Cover your ears! Irene!

Huh? Ah!

(Screeching howl) —!

(Rasping murmur) —Roci—nante—

(Brays)

The waves are coming. We wait for them. We will wait outside. With weapons, we tear them— Let us go!

(Echoing braying)

The Seaborn's murmurs can be heard from afar. Gladiia frowns slightly.

For an ordinary land-walker to recklessly make contact with the ocean and win eternal madness is certainly conceivable.

But what of the other Seaborn that obeyed him?

But Gladiia does not think about it too deeply. Because a nauseating premonition is gnawing at her nerves—

—It makes her neck itch.

What's happening up there?

This ship has been adrift at sea for more than sixty years.

If they'd wanted to do away with it, or even simply treated it and its crew as enemies, the Stultifera Navis would've sunk long ago.

...So instead, they're assimilating it.

They've treated the ship as a part of their environment. For whatever reason, they must've allowed it to survive in their waters.

But now, the situation has changed.

You mean...

Hmm.

The nethersea brand? Since when? And how did it spread this quickly?

This ship will most certainly sink.

Gladiia.

Have you ever considered why an Ægir as talented as Breogan chose, in his final hour, to design the key the way he did?

It should've unlocked the secrets Ægir has long dreamed of. It is the quintessence of his life's work.

So why is just anyone's blood enough to activate it? Why would he let it fall into the hands of a frail knight?

We did silence that thing. But they probably don't need any gods at all. Only humanity, in their impotence and hypocrisy, would fold their hands together and pray to the ocean, finding far too much solace within it.

We need to make use of what little time we have, Gladiia.

You're still thinking about the incident with Thiago.

Mm, not quite. Of all the tragedies I've endured, his is hardly worth mentioning. Nothing more than a grain of sand on the beach.

But how much sand does this beach require?

This ship wasn't brought by the Penal Battalion. Most of the town's vessels were brought under their supervision, and the few that weren't were... forgotten, stranded along the shore.

Then we've saved quite a bit of time thanks to someone's carelessness.

I can't help but think of how much more will be forgotten, what else will be stranded.

Kal'tsit, if the land of Terra were a ship, what kind of vessel do you think it would be?

We're almost at the Eye of Iberia.

...That we are.