act29side

Once upon a time, there was a child who was imprisoned in an old, old tower.

The script of his life had been written from the moment of his birth. Like an opera, every aria, every scene was meticulously planned, and all he could do was follow it.

One day, the child realized that he was part of the show.

It was all a masquerade. Love, hate, resentment, everything around him was fake.

Confused, frightened, and angry, he called the score 'fate,' and tried to resist it.

At one point, he even thought he had succeeded in escaping from the stage.

But he forgot that freedom granted by another can never be true freedom. When the threads of fate tightened again, there was nowhere for him to go except back on stage.

But this time, he chose to fight.

The show would go on. He would struggle for the benefit of the audience in the seats. Still, he thought he could at least glare back at them, and scorn the fate that they had imposed upon him.

But he often wonders... if he was still in the play, how can he tell where the stage ends, and the audience begins?

And if all of us are part of a play like he is, how would we know when it truly ends?

Poor kid! Will he get out? Will he become a hero and defeat the bad guy?

A hero... Sadly, not everyone can be a hero. Given enough time, some heroes stop being heroes, or even become villains.

That's not the kinda story I want to hear!

Alright, alright... let's start from even earlier in the story then. That way, we won't get to the ending you don't want to hear today.

Nein! Hurry it up already!

You guys like playing at Forest Park, don't you?

Did you know that it wasn't actually built to commemorate the heroes who died resisting the Witch King?

Gustav Park was built to commemorate the deeds of a great ruler.

And in his story, he was a 'hero' too.

Huff... huff... hah...

Oh, so that's how it is. If it isn't my old friends.

I knew it didn't make any sense for Their Majesties to go through the trouble of bringing me back and sparing my life for a few days, only to send assassins.

You are the key to the plan, Graf Urtica.

Yes, yes, we've all heard this one before.

Have you learned nothing from what happened with Gertrude? All that effort, and not even the ruins of a concert hall to show for it.

What do you want from me this time? To blow up the park above us?

Gräfin Strollo's failure was born of ignorance. She and the original experimenters were nothing but useless rabble.

They knew His Majesty's melody, but not how to play it properly, and foolishly sought to use it as a weapon to spread the calamity of Originium.

Such uncouth violence is an affront to art. Even if he had awakened from it, he would have sentenced them to death for their blasphemy.

Ha, of course. So you're saying that Gertrude was a fraud, but you're the real deal?

Then... what? You need me to appeal to Their Majesties to bestow you a medal proving your commitment to the arts?

We seek only your understanding.

You are His Majesty's heir, the symbol of his glory, the manifestation of his flesh and blood, and the continuation of his melody.

We believe that you will bring glory back to Urtica, and to Leithanien.

...Then do it.

Take back his glory, his flesh and blood, his melody.

I wonder though... Without those, what would be left of the individual known as 'Ebenholz'?

Perhaps it is your infection, or perhaps the result of Rhodes Island's training.

You've certainly become stronger.

And yet... you show not even a sliver of His Majesty's strength.

I... I must go...

Freeze.

What are you doing here?!

Take another step, and I'll have you arrested.

But I haven't—

You haven't formally joined those lunatics yet? Good for you.

They're no lunatics! Maybe you see His Majesty's reign as one of terror, but all he did was punish the nobles who stood in the way of progress!

Why am I not allowed to miss him? Why can't I long for a Leithanien where someone like me could become somebody?

...Because I know that era better than you do.

Listen, junge. When I first came to Leithanien, I accidentally stepped on a poster on the ground.

Every other person on the street was probably a spy. I was a trader from Laterano at the time, and they planned to execute me as a 'subversive foreign element.'

You could have contacted the Notarial Hall or the Seventh Tribunal.

Certainly, Reverend Executor. Just like you could have broken into the most heavily-guarded Arts jail on your own and rescued me.

But like most Sankta, your wings are ornamental, not functional.

Leithanien is more than a stone's throw from Laterano. Not even you could have helped a Liberi who was scheduled to be executed the very next day.

But you survived, and became Leithanian.

Because someone saved my life.

A limping old Liberi, a soldier who'd killed a few Gauls in his time. He later joined the Gendarmerie, essentially the Witch King's secret police at the time.

He took pity on me and got me out. I'm told the executioner got a fancy new cigarette case for his trouble.

Only a few days later, the Witch King executed another batch of dissidents, right here in this park.

And when I looked up from the crowd, can you guess whose face I saw among the twisted statues?

Are you scared? You should be.

Go home, junge, and don't ever get involved in these things again.

We should go too, Reverend Executor.

You've also detected the use of Arts. Someone is fighting.

I'll let the Empresses' Voice know. Let them worry about it.

We will miss our chance to apprehend the criminal.

When will you understand? I don't want that chance.

If I strolled into that park, I'd find a group of masked people calling themselves the 'Echoes of Herkunftshorn.'

And Their Majesties would certainly expect me to draw my weapon and arrest or kill them.

But do you know whose faces I'd see when I removed their masks?

Perhaps the heir of a Graf, or the scion of a Kurfürst.

As for me? If I'm lucky enough to survive, I'd be sent straight back to jail. This battle in the park? Ha! It'd go down as nothing more than a little brawl over some private grudge.

Just like Jan's sister, Yulia. I tried to catch the last bastard to see her, but couldn't touch a hair on his head because of his father's title, his family, and the Kaiserinnen's intervention!

An enforcer of the law should act only in accordance with the law, not his own interests.

Since when has the law cared about a man's life or death?

The law allows you to leave a last will and testament. If you are killed in battle, I will see it executed to the letter.

...You have one twisted sense of humor.

But that reminds me, when I joined the uprising against the Witch King and attacked the Spire, I truly believed that I'd leave something behind, even in death.

But look at me now. An alcoholic who spends his days taking bribes and bowing to high nobles.

You're absolutely right, I'm not fit to enforce the law. I bet the old man who saved me is rolling in his grave.

The events of the past should not cloud your judgment of the present.

You could not save that girl named Yulia, but you saved her brother. And you have the chance to save someone else.

I envy you, Reverend Executor. Back when I left Laterano, I thought the Sankta were hard to understand. But now I realize that there's no one simpler.

But... are the laws of Laterano always correct?

I have in fact encountered a case like the one you mentioned.

What?

The case I am pursuing right now. It is very special to me.

Her actions have seriously threatened the order of Laterano. The outcome is clearly wrong, yet she has continued to escape the law's judgment.

Do you ever feel doubt, then? Disappointment?

In my experience, disappointment is born from having previously held strong positive feelings towards something.

Which you never had?

You're... different from the other Sankta I know. You've never loved Laterano, have you?

I do not believe such sentiments to be necessary to perform my duties.

Maybe you're right.

Or maybe, when you're finally forced to doubt yourself, and find yourself wavering, lost, like me... you'll realize that you need a strength, a reason.

And that's when you'll discover that the law offers no guidance.

I hear a cello. The target is just ahead.

If you refuse to follow, I will proceed to the suspect's location and complete the mission myself.