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It's here.

(He led me here, and then covered his scent. Seems he's learned a handful of tricks from his time on land.)

Gladiia looks all around her.

She knows that someone once considered a friend is watching her closely.

But she does not hesitate, nor does she have the luxury to hesitate. She must retrieve the secrets of this ship as quickly as possible, and... return them to Ægir.

She wishes to return to her home. She wishes to offer it her aid, to avert calamity.

She looks at the key in her hands.

She swings open the door to the treasury.

Burning away all the nethersea brand is no small feat. I really ought to thank Kal'tsit and that jet-black creature of hers.

The nethersea brand was unable to devour this reef. How unfortunate.

Yet this is but one of myriad forms. You have not heard the prophecy, so you would not understand.

Prophecy? Do you think yourselves more than a band of refugees clinging to unknown lifeforms? What sort of future did you expect?

Our prophet is nothing like you. She never paints images of a false future, nor does she make promises she cannot fulfill.

She spoke thusly: that countless massive scales shall merge into one and fly into the vast expanse. That the ocean will be smeared with light, forever growing, never drying up.

That life and death will disappear and merge into a single entity. And at that time, even the false cosmos will be unable to eclipse the light of life.

We shall all live in that ecosystem. We are all part of its magnificent Cycle. Life is born, is given purpose, seeks worth, and disappears. Only for the cycle to begin anew.

Sounds a whole lot like the sort of elaborate hallucination that can be cooked up by Originium Arts.

Is pushing Iberia to its current precipice, and slaughtering millions of lives, also part of your magnificent Cycle?

What do you possibly know?! Our kind does not consider the death of an individual to be an 'end.' Even when a life ends, it remains part of the Cycle!

You are angry, you are restless, and above all you are only human, heretic.

...You won't take me alive, Inquisitor. I know all about your heinous Originium Arts. We're all prepared to make the greater sacrifice.

Our prophet will remain as out of reach to you as time itself slipping through your fingertips.

High Inquisitor! Everyone in Gran Faro has long held a grudge against you people! The Penal Battalion cannot approach this place, and you are alone!

There's nowhere for you to run!

...Run?

Did you think we came here to entertain your sophistry about good and evil?

*pant*... *pant*...

He's not saying anything. This Iberian's a damn imbecile.

That black monster must have some kind of weakness. It's extremely durable, and can burn the nethersea brand with ease. What the hell is that thing?!

If you don't tell us, then by the time the Penal Battalion breaks free, we'll have already—

—Lost?

Haha... You can't even handle Dr. Kal'tsit and the Inquisitor. Admit it, you've already lost.

Shut up!

I'm gonna make you— Wait, what are you doing?!

Why's your staff moving around?! What did you do?

Guess you spent so much time researching tentacle monsters that you forgot what Originium Arts are?

Seriously, get your head outta the clouds—

Guh—

You self-righteous bastard—! You think we haven't made ample preparations? Do you have any idea how long we've waited to flush out all of you scum colluding with the Inquisition?

Don't fall for his tricks. He's been hiding in this town for months now. Definitely a spy, and one well-versed in communications to boot.

There's a chance our position has already been compromised.

Spies, spies! Of course the Inquisition's spies have been lurking among us since long ago!

I knew about you people because you never tried to hide it, and Amaia and I are close. But the Inquisition is different. They already don't like us, and if they wanted to hide...

How would we ever know? After all, we've been nothing but laborers for generations.

Throw him out then, and feed him to our kin. The nethersea brand's growth is slowing down, and we need more nutrients to stop the Penal Battalion.

We should also find an escape route.

Alright. I'll lead the way. Nobody's more familiar with this town than me, and we've left behind plenty of secret passages and underground depots.

You shouldn't be doing this, Thiago.

How long have we known each other? And now you're gonna preach to me, you platitude-spewing zealot?

Stand up and walk. Time to become a part of the sea.

(I see.)

(A union of Originium and Ægir technology, a sturdier dome, the use of modules from nomadic cities on land, and the scalability of Originium Arts.)

(So this is how the genius of the Academy of Sciences viewed this land. And he managed to accomplish all this decades ago.)

(However...)

However, it's still not enough.

Ægir would be able to accomplish all this even without making contact with land. The integration of certain technologies cannot make the difference between victory and defeat.

I knew it... It's you.

I wish it weren't, though, Ulpianus.

Stay back. Take another step and I'll run you through, my old comrade-in-arms.

Skadi once thought herself the last of the Abyssal Hunters. Even she had thought you dead. Yet here you are.

How insightful of you, Consul Gladiia.

The circumstances don't seem to call for pomp and ceremony, Consul Ulpianus.

Feeling a bit nostalgic over titles long disused, are we?

We've known each other long enough. You should know very well what it means when a Hunter doesn't return.

I've executed no fewer than you. And I can assure you that if any survivors have sunken into the abyss, I'd still hang them up to bake on the reefs before they ever got a chance to hear that song.

What about now? You reek of their scent. You've become one of them.

Don't lie to yourself, Gladiia. You are strict with others, but even more so with yourself.

Has wandering the land sufficiently satisfied your desire to torment yourself?

Hunter, I WILL kill you if your answer doesn't satisfy me.

Gladiia, most of this situation is largely out of your hands. I'm forced to approach the problem from a different angle.

What situation?

I... Like you, I have spent some time on land.

But what I saw was different. Did you come to understand the civilizations on land? No, you don't need to answer that, Gladiia the ever-arrogant.

For their civilizations to survive, they tapped into Originium. It brought them opportunity and hope, but it also unprecedented calamity. To this day, they still have not fully analyzed its principles.

I've witnessed many tragedies... They've given them the name 'Catastrophes.' They are foolish, ignorant, and weak, but the way they struggle and die is still harrowing.

And the Ægir... are no different.

You were never this sentimental in the past.

No, sentiment has nothing to do with this.

What I'm saying is, Ægir provoked the ocean in order to survive, and the ocean devoured it in return. Then, ocean gave birth to us.

We are products of a grotesque struggle. If we are unable to resolve this problem at its root, then we are unable to resolve it at all.

...What did you see, Ulpianus? What did you see to make you abandon the bonds of blood and the camaraderie we shared in battle?

'Sanctuary.' No doubt that is what those filthy cultists would've called it.

Your familiarity with them only reduces my trust in you.

But the word is an apt description.

You know what Ægir once found in the depths of the ocean. Even if aren't a historian, a general education should've covered at least this.

Thousands of years ago, we reached the heart of the ocean. There, we found the point of origin. The cradle of civilization.

As far as I know, Gladiia...

He, and those Seaborn, in the deepest recesses of their nest...

I saw it. A 'construct.' No, not even the greatest science consuls of Ægir would have been able to make sense of what I saw.

I was unable to go deeper, as my injuries were too severe. My blood boiled, my ears rang, but still I felt—

...What?

—The plurality of Him.

Well... That doesn't even slightly explain why you abandoned the team. You should have brought this information back.

When millions of cries returned to a single point, the unhatched Seaborn all murmured the same name from within their differently-shaped sacs.

...Ishar-mla.

Or rather, Skadi.

Did it escape into the sea?

No matter. It will return. And we'll continue to wait.

Ugh. Whoever decided that we were its 'kin'? Pathetic.

Mm. I see it too. The waves breaking unnaturally, like a twister. Or a mirage of an ocean city. What a strange sight.