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The old pickup truck resembles an aged burdenbeast, its original color faded beyond recognition. After a few heavy gasps, its engine finally sputters to life, carrying the three young people into the distance.

Hello? I'm here.

No sign of her... The big investor from Lungmen...

Yes... I know, she's a very important guest. I'll keep waiting...

I hate my job...

Adele, did you know that the delicate little lines on these rocks contains traces of the earth's respiration across tens of thousands of years?

The continent is not rigid or unchanging. She moves, thinks, and even has emotions, at all times. Beneath her tough skin, she also has a burning-hot heart.

We barely know anything about ourselves, and even less about the very land that has nurtured us.

But, we do have ways of interpreting the language of the earth. To know our land, to communicate with her.

As long you listen carefully, she will reveal to you the wisdom hidden away from human eyes, as well as the secrets about ourselves.

What do you think? Isn't that a magical, wonderful thing?

Adele, don't you want to get to know her better?

A protective suit used for volcanic expeditions is quietly displayed in the exhibition hall, every crease clearly visible beneath the light. It is adorned by cracks and scorch marks, an observable testimony to its past.

It appears rather old, its outline roughly tracing the figure of its owner. It is a figure very familiar to the girl.

How many times had she rushed home to gently knock on the door late in the night, without having time to change out of her sooty clothes?

'Adele, I'm home.'

I still remember that time when me, Katia, and Magna climbed the red volcano.

It should've been safe, but a piece of the lava flowing across the ground suddenly splashed out, burning through Magna's sleeve and almost leaving a permanent scar on her arm.

We were all terribly frightened. Katia was up-in-arms after that, committed to improving the quality of the volcano expedition team's protective gear, but Magna happily treated the whole thing as a story of her good luck and went around telling the others.

She was always so optimistic, stopping at nothing to achieve the goals that she set. She was so brave it was almost scary.

But, she'd always make it happen, and it lulled us into thinking that luck would always be on her side.

Up until that accident...

Adele doesn't speak. She extends her hand carefully. The moment her fingertips make contact with the display case's glass, she quickly pulls her hand back as if she had been burned.

The clothes that were supposed to represent her memories are now hanging in the exhibition hall, a thick and heavy layer of transparent glass separating them from the hands that wish to touch them.

Adele...

Long time no see.

Yes, it's been a while, Professor Keller.

I never knew they left anything like this behind...

After the Mount Unna accident, I found this suit in the warehouse of my research lab at Wilhelm University in Leithanien.

I was going to send it to you along with the rest of their belongings, but a bit of selfishness kicked in... I wanted to preserve something in their memory.

I should've consulted you beforehand... If you don't want it here, you're more than welcome to take it with you.

You were my parents' best friend. You worked together for so many years, this suit is part of your shared memories.

It makes sense to leave this here, as an exhibit...

Those who have left us aren't coming back. Preserving their memory so that others may learn of what they accomplished might be the last thing we can do for them.

Adele looks over at the older scholar beside her, showing no emotion on her dainty features. As if the topic of their conversation was something far, far away from her.

The life story of the suit's owner is written on a plaque in the corner of the exhibit glass. The solemn, cold words recount a tale all too familiar, and the numbers written front-and-center seem almost surreal.

Katia Naumann (1051-1095)

Magna Naumann (1053-1095)

The light overhead blazes, making it somewhat hot. Just like how the heat of lava passes through a protective insulation layer and transfers into the skin.

The reflection off the glass pierces her eyes, and she feels a spell of dizziness.

Adele?

I... I'm fine.

I haven't heard from you since Mutti and Vati passed away... Are you no longer involved in volcano research?

Magna and Katia and I spent more than a decade on those volcanoes. But, I'm not as strong as them. I have no choice but to stop.

This museum is probably the last thing I can do in the name of volcanic research.

I think I remember you were Siestan.

Yeah. Last year, Herman invited me back to Siesta to build this museum.

For us Siestans, the volcano was always more than just a disaster that forced us to leave our homes. It's also a memory of the past. The volcano and the city have always been closely connected.

'It is not just the objective environment that can bring people together, but memories as well.'

That's from the preface of the university's general curriculum textbook, 'Geology and the History of City-States.'

I see this as an opportunity. I hope this museum can become a place that not only carries the hopes of Siesta, but also showcases the accomplishments of many volcanologists.

While I was researching Mount Siesta, I happened upon a recommendation report you wrote two years ago – perhaps, a stroke of fate.

And now Mount Siesta is about to erupt. So, I'd like to invite you to complete this observation with me, as well as finish setting up the museum.

When the museum was first established, I collected a lot of information related to volcanic geology, and need someone to help me compile all of it into a book.

It would be my pleasure, Professor Keller.

As soon as you get away from the heart of the city, the whole place seems completely different.

I see so many shops closing down left-and-right. Seems like business isn't too hot these days?

It didn't occur to any of us before we moved to the nomadic city. We thought the newly-built hot springs and skyline swimming pools would attract lots of tourists.

Last summer, a whole bunch of people excitedly opened shops all over, but they closed down within months.

I knew it. An economy heavily dominated by tourism is highly susceptible to changes in the external environment.

M-Miss Swire, Miss Swire! I-Is there something wrong with this meter? That number up there... what currency is that in? Columbian gold certificates, or Victorian pounds?

It's... making my head spin...

Young man, ten gold certificates would cover the distance we just traveled back in Columbia, by all reason, and the rates should be even lower here in Siesta.

We've barely just left, and it's already up to twelve – an extra five now?

Wh-What?

I told you before that I'll compensate you, but if you try to pull a fast one on us, I swear I'll–

Wh-What are you doing with that lipstick? I'm not––

What the hell is that? Okay, sorry! My bad!

Alright, I tampered with the meter. It's supposed to charge an extra half a cert per mile!

What? You scoundrel...! Half a gold certificate could've bought me two bags of cookies in the store back there!

Come on now, you two. I skipped work to drive you ladies around. It's only fair you give me a little bonus, isn't it...?

Swire turns around and takes a look in the rear-view mirror. A low-key black vehicle is following behind at a distance of roughly three or four car lengths.

(How'd they catch up so quickly...?)

Young man, I <i>will</i> pay you handsomely, but you've got to listen to me.

Drive a bit faster. Lose that car behind us. Head somewhere crowded, the busier the better.

Um, who exactly are you two...? I'm just trying to do a little side hustle here, I don't want any trouble...

Well, I have no idea what this is about either. We're just a couple of tourists visiting Siesta, and haven't the foggiest why these shady people have been after us ever since we arrived. Maybe they're after our wallets.

But we don't know our way around this place, and it's awfully frightening...

(Miss Swire, you were threatening this gentleman with violence just a moment ago...)

Siesta's tourism industry is already in shambles as it is. Why would anyone be doing stuff like this?!

Let me assure the two of you, at its heart, Siesta is still a tourist city with simple folk customs and beautiful scenery. Please don't go around spreading a negative impression of our city after you get home!

Naturally. That all depends on if we can get the kind-hearted people of Siesta to help us.

Right, sure! If it's for a good and just cause, I'll do everything in my power to help!

Don't you worry. Not even Columbia's greatest racecar driver could catch me on these roads I use for deliveries every day.

Buckle up, you two! I'm gonna step on the gas!

Mr. Mayor.

The Columbian representative just sent another message and hopes to have another meeting with you in the near future.

Decline for me.

They said that Siesta is nominally a part of Columbia, and therefore Congress has a right to the city's latest developments...

Tell them to can it. We had a clear agreement when Siesta relocated.

Siesta would retain the status quo with Columbia. They have no right to intervene in our internal affairs, nor do I have to report a thing to them regarding Siesta's plans.

Very well. I'll forward on.

And yet, you have time for a coffee with me despite your busy schedule. I'm honored.

I like to set aside some time for quiet contemplation, no matter how busy my schedule is.

On the other hand, I'd think you wouldn't have much leisure time to spare, Eurill.

The executive manager of the collaboration between MountainDash Logistics and Siesta is my son. Nominally, even I have no right to interfere with his decisions.

In other words, there's nothing for you to worry about. Just treat him as you would any other business partner.

That goes without saying.

As things are now, Herman, do you regret taking this path?

Across Siesta's history, both Victoria and Columbia have been interested in annexing us.