act17side

Alfonso.

Today is... the last day... of our voyage.

All these years... I... always treated myself as... a monster. Easier... that way.

I know. If I die... you'll be lonely... and then you'll die. You shouldn't... die... so I'm... worthless.

Today is the last day... of our voyage.

I... I think I already... feel kinship towards it.

No! No!

Garcia! You can still talk! You're still yourself!

No.

Time... is up. The Stultifera... will soon sink. The fluorescent sea has already started... to corrode the ship.

I—

—Will fight to the death, as an Iberian. I will never... accept it as my kin.

The Seaborn has already bent down.

It looks hardly any different from the greatest chief mate Iberia has ever known.

Garcia nudges the shining crown sitting atop its head.

(Iberian) My beloved... Remember... your duty.

(Roars) —

You are not fighting me, Garcia.

Graaaaah—

You are fighting we many inside your heart. You are on this ship, but you thirst for the sea.

Urgh— Hraaaagh—

But it doesn't matter.

Become sustenance, and nourish our kin. Or, become one with us.

The Chief Mate's body is punctured, blood gushing out like a spring.

The Seaborn tosses Garcia overboard into the ocean, like chucking out bait.

It gazes from above, noble and impassive, like an inviolable eikon.

What... What just happened?

How could it so easily—

Human, kin, and all living things in between.

Amaia wishes to correct you. And thus, it shall be done. I simply welcome back my kin, and welcome back Ishar-mla.

Protect the lives of our kin. Then, return to we many. 'Return home.'

Shark.

Gladiia effortlessly steps forward, casting off the gentle beckoning from behind.

In the space of a moment, Skadi, who had been standing behind her, and Specter, once again returning to battle, react in sync and brandish their weapons at the Seaborn.

As the fastest of the group, Gladiia would improve the synergy between the three if she slowed down a bit—but she had already lost the capacity to stay calm.

It dodges. Or more accurately, it simply takes a step forward, but its speed is sufficient.

It has its eyes only on Skadi.

There are many among us who wish to see you. Ishar-mla. Ishar'mla.

Our kind awaits you. We await you. We hope you will answer our call.

Filth, is there no end to your arrogance?

Gladiia whirls her lance at the Seaborn, but it does not evade. It is run through, its body easily lifted and smashed down into a deep pit.

No good... What's happened to your body?

Soon, many kin, many kin in need, will reach my heights.

We are changing every day. Gladiia. We are one whole. You are of the strongest batch.

...Where's my captain?

Tossed into the sea. He was injured pretty badly.

Even their gods were unable to devour Ulpianus. He won't die so easily.

Its body seems to have undergone some changes. It's nothing like the trash we encountered in Sal Viento.

Swordfish? Treating an enemy with caution rather than contempt? Maybe I'm still missing some memories, but does that ever happen, Skadi?

No, you're right, it is rare. But Seaborn like this were also rare. What kind of prey stands before three Hunters and remains unscathed?

To be fair, I've barely done anything yet.

The ship won't hold out if we keep fighting like this, though. It's grown much stronger.

...Just the last few blows have already set the lowest deck on fire.

How dare you treat Garcia and my ship like this! I'll make you regret this, monster.

Please, my kin, even more of our kin call out to me, asking me to maintain the ocean's growth and tranquility.

If you get in my way, I have no choice but to consume you. I beg of you, return to our kind.

Hey, Amaia.

...If you insist on calling me that.

Sure do. Anyway, I just remembered something which REALLY should've been written into those Scriptures—

What?

She still owes me her life, and you're going to pay it back.

A debt? If you are willing to return to our kind, I will grant you that.

No can do.

The Seaborn does not answer.

It silently leans forward, baring its claws.

In an instant, the damage to the ship's hull passes a critical threshold, and everything in sight shakes violently.

...Minutes. Yes, your kind's conception of time. Amaia spoke of this before.

Ten minutes.

In ten minutes this box will be surrounded by our kin. It will 'sink.'

Hunt and consume. Survive and evolve.

It has never hesitated.