act26side

...Hm.

I honor... yes, I honor His Excellency's choice.

We all respect him. Love him. This was always the way it would be, for we are all under His Excellency's wing...

It's simple to understand, isn't it?

When every cause sees you expelled from the cities, and your only choice is to roam the wastes, and you've become sure your end lies in death...

When your stomach groans with hunger, and all you ever find is despair, no matter where you walk, and eternity seems to have you trapped in the land that eats of man...

That's when past a gentle hill, and over the rock, you enter a canyon.

You see a building past the dust, a building that could dare to be a city, where its people bring you food, and let you stay in a room for the night.

Yes, there is only meager grit-like bread, and a bowl of watery soup.

Yes, there are cracks in the walls of the rooms, forever in need of repair...

But you have not died in the wastes. You have been admitted.

And that is why some of you call this place Paradise.

'Paradise'... yet it was a sham.

Not long after I arrived here, I found... that a Sarkaz friend of mine who'd caught Oripathy had vanished from my side.

I spent an age searching for her, only to find... she was here all along, in a room in the basement. They say it used to be a training room. Its walls are sturdier than all...

It's to that room where they send the deathly ill.

Improvised protective equipment cannot obstruct the propagation of Originium dust with any effectiveness.

We didn't have any other way.

Maybe you want to tell me how the sick could decide in their own final moments to leave the monastery, and go out into the wastes alone to wait for death to take them?

We can only bury this pain out of sight, and cover our ears, and turn not to look... We could never save anybody, and there's no one who could save us.

But even this facade of serenity is waiting to be shattered in the end.

And here we are. You've come.

Our mission here is to maintain order.

Of course. It wasn't any of you that destroyed our life here, after all. It simply and naturally came to the way it is now, as a matter of course.

And no matter how carefully I tend to the flowers I plant, when it's time for them to wilt, they will transform in invisible measures until they're beyond recognition. It's all the same.

You have been affected by Arturia.

You mean by Seniora Arturia's music?

Perhaps. In them, I often hear recollections of these things.

But she's never been a part of our lives. I know, she simply takes our distress, our suffering, as ornaments for her leisure...

And so, how could she ever go far enough to disturb our wills, to make these choices for us?

...Dangerous articles detected.

You have concealed a large quantity of flammables beneath this sacrarium—no—this entire monastery.

Yes.

It was a... possible alternative.

Whether you came or not, the tranquil life of this monastery was never going to last.

Have you seen what hunger and fear of wandering the barrens can drive people to, Senior Federico?

I have.

Before things reach the point of no redemption... I will end it all.

Clément Dubois, you are a suspect in the destruction of the Sanctilaminium Ambrosii, and are involved in multiple cases that concern or have concerned the rights of Lateran citizens.

You have been confirmed an executorial target by the Notarial Hall. In accordance with regulation, I will immediately proceed to apprehend you.

Federico never gives more warning than needed. The gun in his hands simply serves the place of speech.

Clément has not collapsed.

The wasting man clutches at his arm, where all feeling is lost, and gives a bitter smile.

Destruction of lighter confirmed.

Why... won't you kill me?

Why go to the bother of aiming for the lighter?

Your actions have not directly led to the deaths of any Lateran citizens. The law would not sentence you to death.

The law... So many years I've lived here, hearkening to His Excellency's guidance, following your law.

I feel its bind in ordinary times... Yet in chaos, in the time we need it most, it disappears without a trace.

There was some point where the music of Seniora Arturia became all I could even hear.

Senior Federico, is it the law of Laterano that wants to save me... or is it you, yourself?