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Such as: 'When I decided to get to the bottom of your case, that gross monster summoned me to his office.

'He slapped me in the face and said', Leithanian expletive omitted, 'Don't you dare think your military success gives you the right to pick fights with everyone.'

'Yulia, I hate Zwillingstürme. I hate that I'm unable to—'

Herr Executor, Loris wasn't that sort of man.

Yulia interrupts Federico's recital.

The Loris I know was never the type to call himself a 'hero' or anything like that.

But he was the first soldier to set foot in the Witch King's Spire.

He was the only fool to join the Gendarmerie and silently protect the city, despite owning a title.

The only officer willing to defy the nobles to protect civilians.

He knew things weren't perfect in either Laterano or Leithanien, and that many things needed changing.

But someone harboring hope in their heart will never give in to despair.

...Never.

Yulia stops in her tracks and begins mumbling to herself. Federico follows suit and looks at her quivering shoulders from behind. He does not move.

The young executor listens in silence, attempting to analyze the emotions in her words.

Seniora Schüler, are you... disappointed with Loris Bordin?

In truth, he was only—

I'm not.

I'm not, Herr Executor. I just... feel sorry for him.

I'm the reason he became like that, right? But I was actually—

A pipe organ suddenly sounds from the distance, followed by a huge energy pulse.

Federico subconsciously pulls out his gun.

...going to accept his proposal.

Federico turns back to Yulia.

An insipid mist flits through his hands, and the Caprinae woman before his eyes no longer exists. Only nothingness remains, as it always has been.

He suddenly recalls the flower from the Sanctilaminium Ambrosii. Back then, he felt that that flower could be the answer to his confusion.

Now, he finds himself in a similar situation, with no one in front of him.

The primary difference is that he is still unable to comprehend the truth of the situation and place he is in—a place devoid of laws or solid footing, only endless dangers and unknowns.

This was Yulia Schüler's second 'death.' My preliminary deduction is that she was caught in a wave of abnormal energy caused by a violent impact to the Genesis Horn.

I will move to verify the precise cause immediately.

In short, this too was an accident.

An accident that has once again destroyed her life, and once again she was unable to react in time.

Federico is an outstanding executor. He has been with the Notarial Hall for seven years, and carried the title of Saint for two.

He calls himself an executioner and executor, and has witnessed countless deaths, but this is the first time that he's truly sensed someone's emotions in their final moments.

She lived in her own 'Zwillingstürme' for an eternity, as she loved and regretted. Even death was unable to shake her belief in life.

Simple.

But intense.

Your silence ails me, Sankta.

Yulia, she...

The twins created by Leopold and Fremont are currently attempting to brute force their way into my Pavillon.

Frail consciousnesses cannot withstand the resulting energy waves.

No, it's not just her...?

Arturia turns around, even though there is nothing else to see.

Suddenly, the energy blows away a layer of mist like a breeze, revealing the breathing, footsteps, joy, and grief hidden beneath.

These emotions are now—no, they've always been here, all over the Pavillon.

If a soul is like an instrument, then at this very moment she feels the vibration of countless strings, a chorus.

I could only see Yulia because of my acquaintance with Loris, and I had only brief contact with her.

But there are so many ordinary souls 'living' inside your palace.

They exist as information, and walk as Leithanians.

Form and identity. Nothing more.

But reminiscing is a luxury I do not allow in my Pavilion, Sankta.

I believe you came to verify a future?

I think... I've already gotten my confirmation, in a way.

Why, exactly, do people develop a 'self'? And how does one become strong enough to go up against an approaching crisis, or a predestined doom?

We all exist within 'order.'

Rules and commandments serve as Laterano's anchors and cables, enabling faith to traverse the entire lands and providing a target for the prayers of believers. The law is our piety.

'Leithanien,' However, is the result of Güldenesgesatz. Through its systems, aesthetics, models, and morals, ten different regions with no common cultural identity joined together as a unity that has lasted a thousand years.

Experience inherited through generations, laws forged in writing, concepts established by convention...

These exist a priori, and from it, an 'order' is formed. They guide how we should think, speak, and deal with ourselves as well as others.

...And so it becomes our instinct, engraved into our very flesh and blood.

But the order has its imperfections. It is rigid, unequal, and indifferent. It separates us.

Laterano's order offers redemption to its believers, but the gates of Paradise do not open for the Sarkaz. It refuses to provide bread for their empty stomachs or roofs to shelter them from the rain.

Ægir and Iberia face the same dangerous ocean, but their respective orders forbid them to keep watch at the same lighthouse.

Our order rebels against us, and we yearn for it still, calling for its perfection.

...Only 'order' is desired.

Laterano's laws hover barely above a hundred words, and Leithanien's theme has long been concise.

Their minds shallow. Their pride false. Their senses dull.

They regard only the dead as eternal. By this they are timid, yet also fearless.

What is your answer then, Sankta? What do you desire?

...'Emotion'.

We exist in the 'present,' a river whose running flow is our feelings, our discordant and capricious reflections of the moment we are living in.

Feelings build into emotion, and emotions shape our souls.

Our emotions are varied and profound. We are the love, the hatred, the appreciation, and the lament we harbor when these emotions call upon our reflection, and through these encounters we come to understand life itself.

They were the torch we wielded to repel the shadow of death long before the birth of laws, religion, politics, or science. We were born as prodigies in utilizing our emotions.

And thus, <i>we</i> are connected.

Are you referring to the empathy between the Sankta?

Indeed.

Language is not without its limit, and what it finds an impossible chasm to leap over, empathy arches across in an emotion's quiver. It's a precious gift to my kin, through which we can read each other's feelings.

But it is also utterly unfair. Its creeds are too vague, and its benediction too narrow, like a rule written only to serve Laterano's order.

So you crave a 'true empathy?'

You seek an empathy from within, with a wider yet deeper range than what you call 'emotion,' that connects everyone on all lands as one?

An interesting delusion, Sankta.

I've searched, I've tried... and failed.

Would you imagine it? In a dilapidated monastery, Sankta and Sarkaz had been fighting side-by-side against life's miseries and their own wavering faith, all to protect a hard-earned garden?

But when true disaster came knocking at our doors, we found that our 'kin,' who had understood and accepted us for six decades, still harbored doubts in their hearts, fissures in their faiths. We were always strangers, nothing more.

Emotions are as real as the fragility of our minds.

We are good at avoiding pain, experts, even, at muting ourselves on it. Conversely, this helps mask our own feebleness.

As a result, people cannot feel what others feel. Tragedies will always transpire as long as this barrier remains.

And you and your music endeavor to unshackle people by confronting them with their true hearts, just as one would polish an instrument on sandpaper.

You attempt to strengthen their souls by guiding them through their regrets.

Is this the duty you have long since imposed upon yourself to perform?

Yes, Your Majesty.

Because to this day, I have been seeking confirmation.

I have a future in mind.

Continue.

In that future, everyone possesses a most powerful soul.

Our strengths are unequal, unlike yours, where a tenacious soul can't be shaken by anything in this mortal realm, and even death is powerless to wipe away your struggles, pursuits, and conquests.

Others are like those Cora, Yulia, or the souls in the palace. They are unconcerned with greater undertakings, and simply love the lives they live—but still they dare to fight against the turbulent waves that are engulfing them.

Of course, we will persist in our pursuit of happiness, but more importantly, we will no longer avoid pain, or be ashamed of it.

We, as people, should suffer, and we will suffer.

Our apathy, doubt, confusion, remorse, shame, grief... These complex emotions will no longer leave scars deep in our hearts, nor will they remain untouchable beyond the realm of words.