act18side

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.

He shoots a glance at Czerny and at Kreide.

One, an eminent maestro. The other, his dear, new friend.

He thinks to himself, they deserve to live much more than he does.

What he does not realize is that the moment he opened himself up completely to the music, he was no longer able to hide his emotions.

Ebenholz, don't do anything stupid!

Hah, Graf Urtica, my dear. You are this piece's beginning.

Even if you forcibly reverse this piece and incorporate it into your own mind, how will you deal with the dissonance and contradiction?

Struggle to your dying breath!

One by one, they all want to flee. They all want to flee their fates – but how, and why?

For fifteen years, I've lived in their shadows, but at last, at long last, I have won!

I've won! Fate is on my side!

None of you will escape! Not a single one!

How unsightly. The musicians seem to be fighting against the very music they play.

Did Gertrude also arrange this?

This–– I'm not so sure.

A situation seems to have arisen during our performance. Please exit the auditorium.

Once again, please exit the auditorium.

Ah, the MC just asked the audience to leave. Look––

Shut him up.

Indeed.

Urgh...

What are you doing?!

Just shutting up an Infected.

Do you have any idea what's going on?

All I know is if you don't shut up as well, you're going to end up the same way.

Don't do it!

(Even if I can only buy you a little bit of time...)

Should you ask Kreide whether he wants to break free of his old life...

His answer would surely be – 'Yes.'

His grandpa told him that his body was extremely special, something he gradually discovered himself.

The people around him would start to suffer, and those he treated with kindness would leave him in the end – so he started to distance himself from them.

But, he doesn't find it a terrible existence.

The first thing he learned during his long life of vagrancy was that cursing fate doesn't make life any better.

He can only find the meaning of his life from the few things he can do in the moment.

And now, he realizes that it is his cue.

No life is worth more than any other, but he has made friends and received camaraderie. He feels fulfilled.

The sunlight shines warmly outside. It is a good day to die.

Hm?

What––?!

The cello... Kreide! What is he doing?!

Kreide, not you too...!

Herr Czerny, how could the music you've poured your life into be trampled like this?

Besides, I am the end of the piece. It's only fitting that I do this, right?

Do you have any idea what you're doing?!

Ebenholz, don't stop. Just keep matching my rhythm.

(But then, you'll––)

Let's put the finishing touches on our final performance together, okay?

(No!)

Trust me, Ebenholz, Herr Czerny. I'll take care of this.

I...

(I believe in you.)

The piece... has gone back to normal?

No, something's wrong! Kreide is...

Mein Herr, something isn't quite right with this Infected woman. Look here...

Forget it. Why bother with a common Infected? The appreciation of music should come first.