act18side

Philistine.

Listen to the sound coming from that small building in the distance.

The shrill laughter erupting from the depths of despair is equally beautiful.

As for you, my former student...

While I was teaching you to speak using the violin, I heard the motif of your fate... What a cruel melody it was.

But I never expected that you could develop it into such a brilliant opus.

I salute all of you, people I may or may not know.

I shall listen. For that is the only way I know to pay my respects.

I was the one who restarted the Voice of Mundane program, my good spy.

You alone?

First, the Voice of Mundane is exceedingly rare. And after that ordeal, you ultimately took control of two of them.

Second, past research has proven that an individual who isn't blood-related to the Witch King cannot possibly withstand this type of experimentation.

In other words, even after you people tore apart that plan, it was not completely abandoned, merely shelved.

In the end, the Voice of Mundane program originates from the worship of the Witch King, but how many are there who, from the depths of their hearts, can truly worship fear itself?

They only wanted a weapon to overthrow the Twin Empresses, just as the Twin Empresses overthrew the Witch King.

As for me, after I realized that my brother's incompetence would bring ruin to our entire house, I had no choice but to act.

Nevertheless, I still never found a way to show my value to those shadowy worshipers.

Music, Arts, money, authority, even my body... Nothing worked.

Finally, I found these dust-covered plans in a pile of my father's old writings.

The reboot of the program brought a fresh breath of opportunity for me. They began to think that I might amount to something.

But what they didn't know is I've already had enough.

I don't want to be at their beck and call anymore.

So, I set this plan into motion. Not for the sake of overthrowing anyone, unfortunately.

I just want them to get a taste of what it's like to suffer.

I sucked up to them and invited them to come appreciate the fruits of my research.

If you go take a walk around the concert hall now, you might find proof of some things you've long suspected.

Everything from the human experimentation facility in the sewers to the dossier on the Voice of Mundane program... Did you deliberately allow me and Ebenholz to find them?

Those were only meant for the eyes of you spies. I never expected Graf Urtica to go looking for you people.

And you tipped your hand to keep them from discovering what you had really done to the concert hall.

Of course. The amplifiers are nothing more than a small distraction.

With those amplifiers, all of the Afterglow would have been made to suffer.

With the amplifiers dismantled, the Afterglow is indeed spared, but the same cannot be said for those inside the concert hall.

The remodeling of the concert hall began after my research into the Voice of Mundane had progressed to its next phase.

Czerny is trying to use his own composition to draw the Voice of Mundane out of the boys––

But what I'm trying to do is much simpler. The moment they try to pull out the Voice, they will realize that nothing is in their control.

I have tampered with the melody and Resonanz of the Voice of Mundane. Anyone who tries to become the new vessel, regardless of who it might be, will have to endure turmoil and chaos a hundred times greater.

The Voice, unable to find a suitable vessel, will collapse into an all-consuming void within the concert hall built by the Witch King himself, swallowing everyone within.

Of course, I am a part of this performance, and I equally have no hope of escape.

As for you, my unfortunate spy, if you don't take this chance to escape, then you can only bemoan your ill fortune.

My, what a fierce look you have in your eyes. I know what you want to do.

But my apologies. I can no longer extricate myself from this song.

Killing me would be no different from killing the three men on that stage. All it'll do is bring about those deaths a little faster.

Czerny desperately wants to stop the performance.

But he cannot do it.

The moment he begins to reel in the Voice of Mundane, he feels a single strand of abnormality. But in that solitary moment, it is already too late.

The concert hall begins to absorb and reflect their performance like a massive Arts Unit.

Resonanz. True resonance.

He immediately realizes that Gertrude's alterations were far greater than just some simple amplifiers.

The concert hall itself has become a weapon.

Why did you do this, Gertrude...?

Herr Czerny, if we continue on like this...

Don't stop!

The Voice of Mundane has already destabilized due to the interference of the concert hall.

If we stop now, not only will both of you, but everyone in the venue will die along with you when Voice rampages out of control after losing its vessels!

(But––)

They all know that this piece begins with Ebenholz's Voice of Mundane and ends with Kreide's.

Even if they don't stop, Kreide's Voice will be pulled from his body by the piece's conclusion, and the inevitable will still transpire.

This is a dead end.

There's an atmosphere of uneasiness, and they're holding back on their Arts. What in blazes is going on...?

Excuse me!

You're the one from Rhodes Island...

Hurry and start evacuating the concert hall!

Huh?

Something bad's about to happen!

If we don't hurry, it's going to be a disaster!

Is this the product of Gertrude's research? Fascinating.

What do you think about this?

Not bad for a minor Gräfin, as far as I'm concerned.

Let's have her pay us a visit afterwards.

Indeed.

How were you so sure that they'd use the concert hall today?

My good spy, you're mistaken about one thing.

I can't say for sure what is about to unfold.

What I can say for sure is – as long as they're still in that concert hall trying to save Kreide, then I've won.

Kreide's disease is my final bargaining chip. If they can somehow resolve that, then I've lost.

This is the situation.

What... the hell is this? This plan... can hardly even be called a plan!

That's because my plan was a failure from the very beginning!

You think I'm sitting here chatting with you because I have an elaborate backup plan? How's would that make any sense?

If not for Czerny's unwillingness to cooperate with me, if not for the fact that even the insignificant little Graf Urtica insists on rebelling against his trifling, worthless fate, why would I even bet on this method?

Czerny will never realize how fortunate he is. That he was born with enough talent to be recognized, that I was willing to provide him a stage.

All he had to do was be a little nicer to me, and I would've elevated his music to the loftiest heights, perhaps even before Their Majesties.

But he refused to do even that!

And that Graf Urtica. He deemed himself a vase sitting on display in his demesne, as if a bit of ridicule and insult is the greatest humiliation one can suffer in life.

But look at me. I've endured the manipulation of the puppetmasters of this city for fifteen years. Fifteen long years!

If I can't produce results, I will be silenced. By what right are they allowed to live while I am not?

I don't care about the Witch King. I don't care about the Twin Empresses. I've only ever wanted to survive!

From the beginning, all I wanted was to live on...

After coming to Vyseheim, Ebenholz settled on a few more things he wanted to do.

He wanted to spend a bit more time walking around the Afterglow, taking in the sights of the vibrant district.

He wanted to perform on a few more instruments, for the first time experiencing the charm of music.

He wanted to apologize to Czerny, to tell him how much strength his music had brought him. He wanted Czerny to become his formal music teacher, should he be willing.

He wanted to spend more time with Kreide.

He didn't know what he wanted to do with that time. Maybe chat, maybe argue, maybe even fight? He didn't know what he wanted to do with the time, but he wanted a little more of it.

But had he never come to this city, had he never accepted Gertrude's invitation, none of this would have ever happened.

It is his shallowness that has caused things to deteriorate to this extent.

He knows how to break free from this dead end, and he is determined to do it.

Frankly, had Czerny not devised a new plan, he might've even wanted to carry out Gertrude's plan.

But hypothetically, if the past him had wanted to do this, it would've only been to lessen the weight of sin within his heart.

Now, however, he will say that it is not for atonement.