act18mini

I can't be sure, though. We're all busy, after all.

So she was here earlier?

Seems like your routes are quicker and safer than mine.

We know the Londinium underground better, but nothing's completely safe.

Clovisia is needed at the frontline, guiding citizens away from the remaining Sarkaz mercs. You might find her in the lockdown zone, if you're not afraid of the devils' traps.

You seem to have rescued quite a few people yourself. You might be able to help out.

...Thank you.

—Sir! Good sir!

Have you seen my Ollie? My son, with the red-hair. Quiet boy, only about as tall as my knee. Have you seen him?

What?

My son, he's gone... I lost him!

Ollie—

Bloody hell, where did he go?

He kept asking about your grandmother, Colin... Maybe he was worried...

Have you searched the area?

Y-Yes! The folks who came with us helped out too. The only place left is the lockdown zone, but...

That doesn't bother me. I'll go.

But Clovisia is—

Just tell her I've already brought those people out safely.

I'll go with you!

No, you stay here.

No, I mean Clovisia is back!

With a red-haired child in her arms!

—What? Where are they?

Everyone looks in the direction the man is pointing.

That was when everything went wrong...

No...

—Everybody, get back!

It's Ollie! She has Ollie!

Don't go!

Nowell only has time to grab the hysterical woman.

A flash of red as far as the eye can see, and then the ground opens up like a gaping maw, swallowing the leader of the Self-Salvation Corps.

All eyes are trained on the epicenter of the tremor. The one within it holds the child tightly in her arms until the very end.

The dust cloud disperses, and all is quiet again, for now.

Partings like this have become a familiar sight to the people here. The outcome never changes, regardless of the victim.

*cough* *cough*...

Wait! Keep your distance—

Nowell knows all too well that there can sometimes be secondary explosions or aftershocks.

Ollie... Ollie!

...Get...

Get a search party together! Anyone who can still move!

S-Sir! You're still here! Please, help Ollie—

You're not afraid of the devils' traps, your wounds heal quickly, and you're so brave... Could you at least, b-bring him back...

He's still so little...

In Nowell's long life, there have been precious few things he was able to control. He has an ocean of memories, but it is not up to him which ones float to the surface.

Like an ordinary mortal, he can be distracted by flashbacks of the past that seem to overlap with the present as he gathers the weight of all those years.

This will do.

Are you sure this is where we stop? Are you sure...

...you won't stay?

He's still so little...

My youngest child, he doesn't even know the word 'grandpa' yet...

...Too long.

It's been too long, my child.

I should have gone with your mother, but I've waited so long, long enough for you to grow older than your father.

I've accomplished nothing, spent my life in hesitation, and lingered in this world for far too long. So long, in fact, that I've become a stranger to the children.

If there is one way to end my fate as a bystander...

Now is the time.

Nowell looks towards the scene of the explosion and collapse. In the hole formed from brick and rubble, he seems to see visions of a dark mire from a century past.

It was a morning like this. He had heard the same pleading, which he had, stubbornly, chosen to ignore, instead setting upon a path in search of a death that could never come. This time...

He will not make the same choice again.

...Clovisia shielded the child's head before she fell.

Sir—

There's at least a chance that Ollie survived, but no more than a chance. But that's enough...

I will go and find them.

Guided by the Self-Salvation Corps, Nowell attempts to enter the underground ruins, helped by his years of experience and sheer immortality.

About three hundred meters to the west...

His steps are light and brisk, never stopping, until the sight before his eyes changes.

A red-headed child lies quietly beside a pile of collapsed rubble, near the remnants of an activated Arts Circle.

(Soft breathing)

He hurries forward and takes the child into his arms. The boy's chest rises and falls rhythmically with his breathing.

He could have been asleep in bed, if not for the ash and gravel in his hair.

Phew...

Just passed out, no serious injuries. He was left here by himself, but he didn't fall here directly...

Looks like I made it in time.

Clovisia could be nearby. She put Ollie here—

Clovisia! Are you there?

If you hear me, knock on something hard—

Clovisia?

Can you...

He takes a few steps, and comes face-to-face with the truth.

The young Self-Salvation Corps leader is half-buried in rubble, not stirring in the slightest.

Her eyelids are shut gently, naturally, as though she is only sleeping. Will she sleep here forever, underground?

A moment of pain in a fall that lasted seconds at most, leaving behind only peace. Nowell could not help but think—

'If I could die, would I die with the same expression on my face?'

Clovisia!

—Argh!

The aftershock sends gravel flying, like a fowlbeast shaking off water after a rain. It is quick, scattered, and unpredictable.

Nowell did not even have time to check Clovisia for signs of life.

No...

As the place threatens to shake itself apart, he bends over and protects the child from falling rocks with his own body. The sharper pieces easily pierce his clothes and skin, digging deep into flesh and bone.

He remains unmoving, clenching his teeth, waiting for the tremors to cease.

*sob*...

He is awakened from his pained trance by the sound of crying.

The boy had awoken to find himself in a dark, unfamiliar underground space. Following his instincts, he began to cry helplessly.

Good morning, Ollie.

It'll be okay. Everything will be okay. I'm here... it's Nowell.

*cough*, *cough*...

We've met before, remember?

The aftershocks cease. Carrying Ollie with one hand and supporting himself with the other, he forces himself to sit up, pushing the weight off his back.

Fortunately, it is broken fragments of rock rather than a single, heavy slab, but he can still taste blood in his mouth as he moves.