act18d0

They died tragically in the sandstorm without a single clue about anything, and none of us can deprive their last survivor of learning the complete picture.

Fine, I get it. No skin off my nose.

Now where were we? Oh, yeah, Bureau and the military pressured the company, and then in Sargon, all the lords ameer clashed...

Heheh. We were betrayed from the very beginning. And we jumped into this war knowing scratch all...

Where'd they get the balls to do this shit... Now they've thrown us into the desert like garbage, who can still guarantee things'll go how they want...?

The company never cared about what ultimately ended up in whose hands. Regardless of which of you survived to complete the mission, they'd still pocket a reward.

To be precise, even if you all died right here, it wouldn't affect a single coin that falls into their pockets.

Because the ever-eyeing lords ameer and the Padishahs would've helped you settle and follow up on things otherwise, it's only natural they brought in the chaos.

The moment you were first drawn into Sargon by that enormous reward, you were already cornered.

Sorry, Adviser.

You warned us out of the kindness of your heart, and you gave our op everything you had too. I respect you a hell of a lot more than I do those cigar munchers, all making up absolute shit at their meeting tables.

But maybe... we still have one other option. Right now, pull out your arms, Adviser. I hope this decisive battle can preserve some dignity.

You're going to kill her...!

Why not? That's what our original job really was, after all.

Don't lose your head, mercenary. I know you've received secret orders from the Chief of Business, but I also trust you understand that right now, following things to the letter will only cut off your own way out.

Yeah, you've always given me an omniscient kind of impression...

The company sold us out, the Chief of Business sacked us like pawns, the lords ameer, the Padishahs and the Columbian military are all itching to kill us and snatch the goods—

—but we're mercs, and that's just morning coffee to us. As long as I can still make bank, I have no shits to give.

What a pity.

I'm just the smallest fry in this whole whirlwind of crisis, but whether it's in the Bureau's interest or the military's—whatever. All that shit makes me dizzy—

Even the company thinks you shouldn't hang around here any longer, Adviser.

This is a good chance. A good chance to make a senior adviser in Sargon disappear. Some folks paid me a lot of money—heh, and I couldn't say if they were the same who bribed the Stouthammers.

But none of that matters. I just wanna ask you one last thing... You... You've done so much. What was it all for, in the end?

Columbia, Sargon, and perhaps Victoria as well. Uncountable powers all wrapped up in this. And though their lack of foresight led us here, all their innumerable machinations point towards one endgame.

—War.

And war will bring ruin.

I simply try to stop this all from coming, despite how weak my influence is.

I... I don't know whether I oughta believe you... Maybe as long as I complete the Chief's orders and kill you, the company'll let us back in...

Who would trust sixteen mercenaries forced to hole up in a cave, a scientist's boy assistant and a mercenary company's operations adviser? Who would willingly sit down with them to discuss where millions of lives are headed?

I'll give you one final heads-up. Even if you make the Chief of Business happy, and make an obstructive adviser vanish in the middle of Sargon, it will not mean you can return home safe.

Every hired hand in these yellow dusts believes you've made off with the final legacy of the 'Sand Soldiers'... and they will make the choice to exterminate a flock of Columbians who offended their lord ameer's graces.

I—

After you kill me, you want to use Elliot as a bargaining chip, but would you have the leeway for a peaceful dialogue?

—No, you're right. I've got no chance of making any kind of 'deal' with the people who just killed my brothers. I don't work with the big picture like that.

Alright. You've convinced me, Adviser. I'll put down my crossbow, and you get that... uh, your pet out of sight a little.

(A low roar, as if to menace.)

How are you going to proceed?

If we keep working together, will you ensure we return to Columbia?

Precisely the opposite. If you truly keep working with me, you will only add to the dangers you face.

But at the least, I can plot a route for you, and help you stow away into Minos. This is the safest path.

'The safest path.' And you're not even gonna go with us?

My goal lies elsewhere.

There's no way you'd say you prepped this route just for us, right?

Don't misunderstand. This is just for those who can get out of here alive, regardless of who they are.

Sounds a little like salvation, huh?

There's a hint of arrogance behind that word. If you have any misgivings, just treat this as a deal.

Alright, alright. Last time I didn't trust you we ended up right in the frying pan. Maybe this time I oughta be a little smarter...

This is a deal, Adviser. I want to use both your lives, to buy the lives of me and the brothers I have left.

Sixteen for two. Very cost-effective.

Damn right. Cost-effective. Hah. You saw this day coming from miles away, didn't you?

Where are we... heading?

Where are we... I... I want to...

There's a local place for dealings, which the local arms dealers and underground Originium goods merchants all call the 'Reefsteep Black Market'.

When we find that market, its stowaways can help us out.

What's on your mind?

I'm thinking about... I...

I just... just left Teacher's body... in that makeshift...

I should've... I... the blood, and the screaming... nngh, ulp...

*cough*, *cough* *cough* *cough*—

Adviser's hit the road.

What now?

Here's the map for the route the Adviser gave us. Not just the names of all the towns, but any Messenger stations we can use too. Can you guess how much this map'd be worth alone?

Just where in holy hell did she come from?

Hell knows! But right now, she's the single straw we've got to grab at.

Tear up all identifying marks. Can't keep using these Columbian cars anymore. We'll head to the closest city on foot. Should be about thirty kilometers, then we'll rent a new ride and get out of here.

And we escape just like that?

I know what you're thinking... but we still aren't ready for payback. We'll hide out for a bit. Then we can go back, deal with all those traitors companyside—

—Who's there?!

Heh.

So you let the 'Sand Soldier' go... Now there's a twist.

—Enemy raid! Snipers, rea—

Leave three alive. Get the casters ready to grill them.

Deal with all the rest.

Have you calmed down some?

Counting researchers, the 'Sand Soldiers' were on the scale of a hundred people when they left Tkaronto.

You just experienced a massacre. This may be difficult, but you need to return to form as soon as possible.

Just what... do you intend to do?

Retrieve the Arts prototype plans in your embrace. Assuming no mishaps, there should also still be an Originium crystal sample in there.

Ngh...!

This will only delay the outbreak of war, but it will give us enough time. Enough to afford a few of my colleagues in Columbia the chance to try and change course.

You hardly even know what that case could unleash.

You can't! What kind of sick joke?! This is everything the Institute worked for!

Whether you trust me or not, I know full well just how important, how weighty, results paid for with countless lives are to a theoretical scientist.

But I also know, if this thing termed an 'Advanced Originium-Powered Arts Conversion Device' is given different application, the sheer harm it can bring about.

Ugh...

Many were aware of this. Naturally, this included your teacher.

Y-You don't mean to say Teacher knew we were doing wrong?!

How dare you suggest—

So this is Sargon! Ah, a time-old charm of a country... look around here, at the heart of the wild-grown desert, no dependence on nomadic cities, still so full of life!

It is, Teacher.

Hm? Elliot, your mind's wandering. Come here, let me brush that gravel off your head.

Ah... th-thank you, Teacher.

Teacher, if you were this caring of the women who tried to woo you, I don't think your family would urge you so hard to get married.

Haha. Don't poke your teacher where it hurts, or else you'll be assigned to double next month's experiments.

Ugh...

Teacher?

Ah, not much, just something that popped into my head. The mountain range at the end of the barrenlands, and the rainforest on the other side, must both be bursting with life too in their own ways, totally unlike the barrens we're in.

In that rainforest... could there reside people just as unlike those here? What kind of life do they lead, then? How does it fare?

The rainforest? Why all the sudden thought, Teacher?

Elliot. We believe our undertakings are for the benefit of ever more of humanity, for those still without the blessings of Originium technology.