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Where was Laterano during all that time we were supporting each other?!

So, let me beg the two of you, to once again–

Plead to the wisdom of His Holiness the Pope, and to your faith...

The haggard old man raises both his hands.

He both appears to be holding up his faith, as well as crumbling beneath its overwhelming weight.

The Sankta's faith is formless, intangible, nowhere to be found.

His fingers grasp for the halo above his head in vain, the old man's hands gradually slipping until they cover his face.

What Lemuen said is correct. There will not be Sarkaz in Laterano.

Nor will Laterano allow any Sarkaz through her gates.

Hey, Federico, you don't have to be so blunt.

This is a fact.

Enough, Stefano.

I already told you. We can accept it.

You go to Laterano, and we'll find a place to start over. That nuncio, Lemuen, promised us some support. But in name... we have to go our separate ways.

It's always been a fact. The fact that they even offered us that much is already more than I expected. It's more than enough.

No, it shouldn't be a fact! It's certainly not enough!

Don't get it? That we even nominally have to go our separate ways only makes this all the more ridiculous!

Sorry, Stefano.

We've given up.

What?

What do you mean?

What I mean is, you don't have to subject yourself to all this, just for our sake.

You don't need to be so hard on yourself.

I've talked to the others. We've decided... we're leaving.

What are you saying...?

I assume that settles things, Reverend Executors?

We'll leave. It just means letting go of a group of destitute refugees. You can do that, right?

The Notarial Hall does not harm innocent civilians.

I'm glad.

Really, Federico?

I do not lie.

Umm... How should I put this... Well, whatever. You're leading this operation, so if that's what you've decided, I don't object.

I swear to you, a Sarkaz has never been in a Lateran sacrarium.

That in itself does not constitute a crime.

Really now?

How should I say this... There's actually no explicit prohibition on it.

Bishop Stefano Torregrossa, I will continue to pursue the whereabouts of Oren Argiolas, based on your testimony.

May I take it that you've accepted the conditions put forth by the Lateran, that all monastery residents, with the exception of the Sarkaz, will be resettled in Laterano at a later date?

If you remain silent, I will interpret that as your tacit consent.

Stefano.

Time...

What?

I need a bit more time...

I would finish my final sermon, and spend one last night here.

Please... give me just a bit more time at the very end.

I will give you an answer after Matins tomorrow.

What do you think, Federico?

Fine.

Now, I wish to meet with Cardinal Aide Lemuen.

Seniora Lemuen is our guest. Of course you may visit her, if you wish.

Understood.

In that case, we will take our leave... Hey, wait a second! At least say something first, Federico!

Am I still holding onto some of my old merc habits?

Looks like even after all these years, some habits die hard.

Gerald, are you absolutely certain of this?

Sure, Stefano. You know I wouldn't joke around with this stuff.

We're all bound by the need to survive.

What you said was no lie.

Anyone home? I brought your winter clothes!

Huh, that's weird... Where is everybody today?

Fina? What are you doing standing around here?

Oh, Caroline! Perfect timing!

I came by to drop off everyone's winter clothes, but is something going on? I've been walking around all day and haven't seen a soul... What are you all busy with?

We... have some stuff to take care of.

Thanks for coming all the way out here, but we're fine with what we have. Err, we already have enough winter clothes, so you can take these back. Also, tell the others not to worry about us.

What are you talking about? When in the last few years have any of us had enough to get through the winter?

Aren't you still wearing that light coat, Caroline? The temperature's going to drop pretty soon, so we need to get you into something a bit thicker...

Fina, is something wrong?

What's that in your hand?

Oh... It's nothing. Just some hardtack.

No, let me see it!

Hey, wait!

The Sankta girl reaches out to snatch the supposed hardtack from behind the other girl's back. Almost instinctively, she splits the dry, hard thing down the middle before she is pushed away.

Stuffed inside the hardtack are truths hidden away all this time, finally exposed to her eyes.

What... is this?

Bran... and sawdust?!

Caroline?!

Didn't you say you had more than enough food? Then... why are you eating this?

No, Fina, listen to me. We, we're just...

Just what?

Talk to me, Caroline.

Tell me... What depths have we stooped to these days?

Knock.

Knock. Knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock.

The sound of knuckles rapping at the door.

The door isn't actually locked, but the guests outside still continue to knock and wait for a response.

This used to be a secret code agreed upon by several friends from school. So much time has passed that Lemuen thought she forgot, but the facts prove that she has not forgotten.

The meaning of the code words tapped by the guests is:

'Rescue successful.'

And: 'First arrival.'

Come in.

Salve, room service.

Gratias, please put the food over there on the table. Do you need a tip?

You can't just ask if you need to tip. It's gotta come from the heart, right?

Hmm, I guess you have a point.

You don't seem surprised at all, Lemuen.

Are you disappointed that it's me?

Of course not.

The fact that you're here means news of this place has already reached Laterano, right?

Hmm? Well, more or less. That Oren guy actually left you behind and ran off by himself. When I get back, I'm going to tell Mostima and Fiammetta.