act18d3

Ah, you're back! I was just about to go find you.

How come you've got sand stuck to you... did you go to the shore?

Yes.

I told you not to go! But you just don't listen.

Hurry, come inside with me, it's warm.

No need.

Fine. This is for you! I found something to eat. I gave those clothes I half-sewed to Uncle Fireplace, and took some things from his. He's got quite a lot of food left, so he shouldn't mind it.

It'll be forever before winter comes. If I just work at it a little more, I'm sure I'll find materials to use.

This shellmeat...

Just what is it you're eating?

Ow! It hurts when you grab me like that... you're much too strong!

What is it you're eating...?

We—We pick them off the coast!

There is no food in the sea here. Nothing to harvest whatsoever. This part of the ocean is silent.

I told you, if you went to the shore today, of course there'd be nothing to eat.

The time has to come...

What time?

One-hundred...

One-hundred!

Oh, no! I hadn't even paid attention to the count. We're already at a hundred, then.

As if receiving some sort of signal, each 'busied' person scattered all across the street assembles together.

From all their mouths the same number comes, as they surround a pot, one after another remove something identical thing from it, and then silently leave.

That pot.

Weren't you asking me where all the food came from?

On every hundredth flood and ebb of the tide, the grownups all get together like this, and each one takes a shell out from it.

The shells in the pot are mostly white ones, and only one is red.

Once the sun's gone down, the one who's taken the red one will go to the shore.

And on morning the next day, there'll be food all over the shore.

And the one who went?

Went to go live in the sea. Just as the laws say.

You believe in this too?

Well, where else do you think they go?

One-hundred. It has finally come.

Here, Woodframe, why that face? This is a good day!

Very soon, out of us, another lucky one will be chosen. They will leave before us, to live a better life.

Come tomorrow, we will even have, fresh food aplenty. We will all survive. No matter whether gone to the sea, or left on the shore.

I...

You do not need to worry. You are already old enough. Very soon you will join this too, and have this greatest, opportunity.

For now, you may go on as before. Give your blessings to that sibling.

Sheetmetal, I, I...

You have fallen over. Truly hopeless. What happened at the shore, earlier, weakened your leg.

I do not understand why. I, I am so hungry... I have no strength. I am ill... I am going to die.

That is right, what about the shell? The one I just drew...

You dropped it on the ground.

Is it... Is it a red one?

Can, I go to live in the sea?

In the sea, I will not hunger. Is that not right, Sheetmetal? I will live, a good life.

You will... erk, bless me too, as the priest told, will you not?

You have mistaken it.

Take it, for this is your shell. Look carefully at, what color it is. Do not let the saltwater muddle your eyes.

A white one? Why would it be white... did I see wrong? I could not have. My eyes, are very fine.

(Plucks strings)

You are here too.

So this, is how you use that thing.

*cough*, Sheetmetal, the shell in your hand... your hand, is clutched so tight. It is bleeding, is it not? I can see, reddest red...

If it's blessings you want, I have none for you.

You understand nothing.

This is what is truly meaningful. I know, at least, where I should go. I will very soon learn.

What are you all doing?!

That outfit... it's an Inquisitor!

What is an Inquisitor doing here all of a sudden? They come so rarely.

It was so many years ago when an Inquisitor last came... I was still very young then, and we were all living miserably.

We couldn't find any more food in the city, and so many of us were ill. Everything was a mess, and everyday people passed away.

The Inquisitors took a few people away. Those people never came back.

Since then, the days have gotten a little better. We still starve, or die of illness, but at least we won't, um, we won't...

I mean... that's an Inquisitor.

Oh.

Shh, singer, don't anger her. She doesn't seem very happy at all.

I've seen what's happening here, and I've even heard it. You're plotting to send someone into the sea... Do you not know what it is you're trying to do?!

Speak! Why won't you speak? I don't like it, I don't like anything about this place. Disease, famine... I thought I'd have seen it here, with how hard it is to escape from.

According to prior reports, none of you should even be alive at this point, after all these years!

Yet reality begs to differ. You all seem to me in better shape than I'd imagined, yet blighted all too fiercely.

Do you all understand what your actions will eventually cause?

Look at me, answer me! Don't you know who I am?

You are an Inquisitor.

Thus, you are required to answer me, citizen!

This is the ocean's choice. The one who is chosen is the one who accepts it.

This isn't right! What in the world is the ocean's choice? As if the ocean had some kind of will of its own... a truly unsound suggestion!

The way I see it, you are conducting a collective murder! How could anyone entering the sea survive? On... on what basis do you sentence the innocent?

Entering the sea, is not death.

How do you know?

Do you know?

I... That's irrelevant. I only know that their departure will in all likelihood be more terrible than death itself.

And right now, I witness that you are coercing one amongst you.

We are not making them do it. This is their own choice.

If they want to go to the shore, we should not obstruct them. The laws do not say they cannot do this.

Unbridled nonsense! This is not in any way proper!

Then, what is proper? You are an Inquisitor. You may indicate to us.

At the very least, I know more about wrong than you all seem to.

What you're carrying out is impermissible conduct. Whether you see it or not, I still smell an odor of wickedness—

(Draws sword)

It seems you have no fear of my sword. Perhaps, though, you truly don't consider this a homicide.

You fear not even death. You're all becoming monsters before my very eyes.

Or yet... I suppose there's someone who wants you turned into monsters.

It may be your insanity was tugged astray by some actor. I will unearth this sin's source, I swear!

I'm out of here.

Hm?

She's the one who can't hold it in. It's nothing to do with me.

Who... Who's she? Do you mean... the Inquisitor?

Let's at least let her try.