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I love it, just as I loved my family.

But why... why can't I hear it speak to me?

A deep fissure appears in the sand wall.

Dorothy stumbles forward, but a pair of hands catches her.

Dorothy... No matter how much work you put in, you can't change your mother's fate.

That storm is in the past... it ended long ago.

Is... that so?

A drone fills the opening in the sand wall with its own body.

Seemingly injected with life once again, the grains of sand quickly rearrange in an orderly way.

Dorothy, you want to hear your family's voices, right?

You should ask those test subjects.

Once the storm is over, they will tell you their answer.

Agh...

His hand is getting warmer and warmer. He knows that the machinery has been pushed past its limits for so long it is doomed to break.

But he cannot give up.

If he falls here, the island behind him will forever be swallowed whole by the darkness.

He has to hold on, just like that one night all those years ago. He ran so far away, even though his hands had gone numb from the cold and his legs hurt from the long journey—

He needs to make it to that day when he passes the torch he holds to another pair of hands.

Suddenly, a warm power shrouds his hand and helps him stabilize his energy output.

It is someone else's Arts.

O-Operator Ptilopsis...?

You require assistance, Operator Greyy.

Hmm...

You needn't alert me to the danger here.

I had already calculated the probability of our mission's success before I submitted my leave request to Dr. Silence.

What's the number...?

With my support as a newly added variable, the probability of our success is...

No, you don't have to tell me.

I'm just used to planning everything out before the actual execution. I know it was hasty of me to run out here, but I couldn't control myself.

Calculating the results will not reveal anything in advance.

Operator Greyy, what determines the result in the end will always be...

The 'impulse' that drives you forward.

I cannot confirm whether the fluctuations of my brainwaves right now were caused by this 'impulse,' but it was none other than your actions that drove me here.

Operator Ptilopsis...

Thanks.

Even more light begins to emanate above him.

This is beyond the theoretical maximum output numbers that he and Mechanist, the designers of the weapon, had yet to measure.

But these are his Arts.

There has never been a theory capable of fully explaining Originium Arts... And furthermore, this luminance comes not only from his Arts Unit... It comes from his heart.

This luminance in the end pierces through the out-of-control test subject, through the darkness, the clouds, and all the unknowns above.

This thought, hidden within the sparks of electricity, pulses once only.

Nonetheless, Greyy grasps hold of it—He can feel the possibility within.

A weak signal has been detected...

Connecting.

Phew...

Following an intense quake, the enormous test subject positions itself in front of the assembled onlookers.

There was no foreshadowing, and it left no trails of its movement. It simply appeared in that very position.

Agh...

Stand back, Greyy!

I...

That's an order—

Silence grabs Greyy's other hand.

A drone takes to the sky and, gathering the golden rays that began to disperse as Greyy's strength starts to give, charges straight toward the silver colossus that shrouds the sky.

The explosion is as loud as a thunderclap. The drone, having risen to the highest point in the sky, disintegrates into countless specks of light that flutter down.

I picked this up from Elena.

Though a trick like this will only work once.

This light... will extinguish eventually.

Message sent.

Our most crucial objective has been completed, right?

Yes...

We did it.

She reaches her other hand out to hold Ptilopsis.

The light above them slowly dissipates, revealing the enormous scale of the silver construct.

Yet it does not advance.

A layer of fine dust still stubbornly stands between them.

Dorothy...?

You're holding... a treatment band and the reagent.

You're thinking of plugging yourself in...

I want to hear their voices.

No!

I told you. I don't know how to wake them up, and I won't know how to wake you up!

You might find yourself swallowed by their consciousness, and your nervous system might see irreversible damage if we destroy this construct, and perhaps...

I'm a researcher. I'm willing to accept all the uncertainties.

But I'm your doctor!

I can't just watch you risk your own life—

It'll be fine, Olivia.

This way, I will get to be with my family.

The test subjects behind her are unable to speak.

The silver construct before her remains silent as ever.

Dorothy closes her eyes and feels the silver reagent flow into her body.

The slightly cold sensation feels as if the fingertips of her family members are caressing her up and down.

Olivia...

I need the answer.