act29side

The clouds above Zwillingstürme are... floating so freely.

Is this what you wanted to see at the end?

Ja.

Your music helped me see. Incredible. Not through my eyes, but through my mind.

I gave Viviana a few hints, as you wished.

She wanted so much to have a real family, but... she didn't follow her strongest emotions.

Nein, my dear friend.

It was her feelings for everyone that led to her decision to kill me.

Are you satisfied?

Why wouldn't I be?

I greeted death under the gaze of the one I loved.

No need to mourn for me. This is the best end a sinner like me could hope for.

Danke. Thanks to you, both Viviana and I will... go further.

Your emotions will vanish into thin air before long.

When the music ends, the strings may continue to vibrate for a while, but all sounds eventually fade into silence.

No one can keep a cloud around, Arturia.

The soul is frail. Even the most powerful emotions and the greatest desires will inevitably reach their respective ends.

Even for the strongest of souls?

Is that not what you're here for?

I'm leaving all my emotions and memories to you. Did you find what you were looking for?

Yes, perhaps... I'll know soon.

Goodbye, Arturia.

I hope you find your answer in melody.

Cora Löwenstein, my gentle and stubborn friend... I was glad to have you on this journey.

I'll work to achieve the future we sought together.

You and I...

...Will meet again in melody.

Cora is... fading away?

Get away from her!

Herr Reiner...

Cora...

There's no need to explain.

You made your decision... and put it to action.

As for the rest...

This isn't the time to speak of it, for neither of us.

The black flame took her. It was similar to what happened at Ludwigs-Universität.

They were both Herkunftshorn's Arts, but not quite the same.

The caster in that incident was an imitator who activated them by force, but this power feels almost like his own.

Red-black energy rumbles in the clouds.

It does not impatiently tear, swallow, and spread.

Instead it paces, watches and waits, on that throne in the clouds.

Do you see it?

The great Herkunftshorn has heeded our call and granted us an audience!

He has called forth the staircase leading to his eternal spire, the Genesis Horn!

The followers of the Witch King laugh.

They play the most piercing notes on their instruments, aiming them at their own chests and throats.

In response, the black clouds extend several tendrils towards them.

The dying cultists kiss the hand that their king has extended and become one with the black flame, ascending to become part of the dark cloud that now hovers above the Twin Spires.

The sky cracks with a dissonant roar.

Leithanien's greatest and most terrible sovereign, Herkunftshorn, issues his edict to his people.

...Herkunftshorn is really back.

We have a problem.

Bound by the Arts inherent to the Movement, the people continue to play. But the altered Güldenesgesatz now only feeds Herkunftshorn's power.

What did you just do?

Tried to shoot the cloud.

Now's not the time for this madness.

Madness? Not at all, Lessing. Do you know how long I've waited for this moment?

I was destined for this ever since his noise was forced into my head... No, since the day I was born.

You told me to fight, to face my responsibility and sins head-on. And you were completely right. Herkunftshorn is my sin, and it's my responsibility to face him.

I just need a way to drag him down from his palace in the clouds. Or... wherever he is.

Or I could send you up?

Wha—

An invisible thread catches him by the collar. It is light, gentle, and cool.

Suddenly, it constricts.

Argh—!

Who are you?!

Rude to yell at someone who just saved your life, don't you think?

The black flame... it landed right where I was standing?

Listen to Lessing and stop shaking your wand at the clouds. He can be a little stiff, but he's more reliable than most.

That was awfully sudden, Ermengarde.

Were you expecting a schedule? A timetable? I rushed all the way back from Kazdel. Look how much wear and tear there is on my cube-thing.

My hat got all dirty, too. Mind if I clean it with your horn?

Yes.

You're no fun.

Just... keep your hands off my horns. How bad is the situation?

Extremely.

I don't even need witchcraft to tell you that much. This place is filled with threads that don't belong to it. It's so messy not even a Lich could clean it up. A little rain wouldn't solve anything.

Are you a Lich too?

Do I not look the part?

I thought...

You thought Liches were all old men with long white beards, dressed in robes covering head to tail, with skeletal staves in their hands?

...I thought Liches would have more refined vocabularies.

What happened to the old man?

You know the first thing about him, don't you? Of course he went straight into that cloud.

He strode back from the border of Leithanien the moment Herkunftshorn opened his eyes on the throne.

And he pulled on all our threads, too. I'm sure even the Liches of Kazdel could hear his cursing.

How many of you are here?

Everyone who could come.

Do you realize how inconvenient this is? It's like you were planning to move, and had loaded all your scrolls and talismans on the truck, then the very next day you hear that your old home is getting blown up.

I mean, can't you Leithanians keep things together for even <i>a single day</i> without us?

The Liches are back.

...This is a serious situation.

The Genesis Horn is about to descend.

Grimmacht, your violin...

Good.

We haven't played together in a while, Lieselotte.

Ja. The ensemble performance should be coming to a close, as is the custom. Then it's our turn.

Herkunftshorn... the calamity that Leithanien has always been destined to face.

We already beat him once.

We can do it again.