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Gaul employed Royal Court casters and the Liches in Leithanien are killing each other in battle, while a certain Wendigo is spilling the blood of his fellow Sarkaz to prove his loyalty to the Ursine Tsar.

As for the Sarkaz mercenaries sent to the frontlines as Arts fodder, they won't even be counted in any nation's casualty statistics.

The Sarkaz massacre one another in wars we have no stake in, regarded as disposable goods to be abandoned without care by the leaders of those wars.

For the sake of keeping pace with these changes, the Sarkaz must once again gather around the furnace. And if necessary...

The power to dominate the war must lie in our hands.

Theresis looks to Theresa, waiting for her opinion.

But Theresa does not speak, her eyes placid, as before.

We will plunder the other nations, and wrest their most profound secrets from them.

We were once the proud Teekaz, forced to become the Sarkaz and derided as <i>devils</i>...

Because the outlanders feared us. It is an ancient fear, rooted deep in their hearts.

Let us remind them. Let us show all of Terra our history and legend that have been either forgotten or falsified.

The Sarkaz are not weak. We do not need others to save us from our fate.

On the contrary, we will dictate the fate of Terra. Dictate how this land should move forward.

The details of our plan have been delivered to all present, through the runic Arts of the Banshees.

Duq'arael.

Do you still hold doubt?

No. Exceptional work, Theresis. Set aside a seat on the Military Commission for the Crimson Court.

It appears that our Nachzehrer King has not yet grown addled with age. But as to whether or not he could usher in such a grand feast...

Warriors need not die in a blaze of glory. That is a vulgarity only chased by those who seek fame.

Oh, I nearly forgot you were still here, Laqeramaline.

I have made myself abundantly clear from the start, Prince Duq'arael. I need only silently observe your... enthusiastic attempt at self-expression.

How pitiful it is to look upon such a shabby little Court. I will cherish your elegies.

Then this I promise you. When death comes for you, the Lord of the Banshees will sing you an elegy, delivered to you by the night wind.

Set aside your chatter for another time. It seems Their Highnesses still have matters to discuss.

The other members of the War Council will wish to know their decisions. Duq'arael, Laqeramaline, and you Damazti disguised outside the door, with me.

The Nachzehrer King nods his head towards Theresa.

The other two members of the Royal Court do not bid the King farewell. They simply follow the Nachzehrer King out of the chamber.

After the meeting's end, Theresis stays by Theresa's side, standing silently.

He knows that she will be expecting an answer from him.

You never mentioned that you would announce the plans for war to the Royal Court.

You did not refute me either.

Would I have been able to refute anything?

You are well aware of what I think. If you wanted to argue against any of it, you would have done so a few years ago.

For now, I have them by the reins. But it's not just them, this entire city hungers for war.

I will prevent matters from heading down the worst possible path... lest the prospects of Terra's continued existence become infinitesimally small.

You must be quick about it.

I will.

What does Fremont's letter say?

As Theresis opens the envelope, the writing vanishes before his eyes. Yet, the message has already etched itself indelibly into his mind.

He... has surmised what would transpire during that meeting rather accurately. He has given his opinion on some matters, alongside a reminder.

Do not place all your coming hopes in one basket.

The nomadic city of Kazdel, Kazdel

You with that Babel? Pah, don't count on the Military Commission to look after you all.

We're here to help you.

Help us? My parents died at the hands of you Leithanians.

You got some nerve. What, not scared of me?

We knew what to expect when we came here. Just needs some getting used to.

Besides, our captain warned us not to agitate the locals.

You looking down on me?! *Sarkaz swearing*!

Eh?

The hell is this?! Let me go!

(Welcoming wave)

Do not harm him, but do make him leave.

Dr. Kal'tsit?

I said not to deviate from our planned route, even if it is to treat the wounded along the way.

Sorry, Dr. Kal'tsit.

No matter. You handled it well. We've reached our destination.

Welcome to Babel.

Babel Office, Kazdel

Did you manage to retrieve all our stray colleagues?

Yes. All's well with them.

The construction of Babel's facilities is proceeding smoothly. The school that you were so looking forward to is already complete.

Yet I heard that the unbeatable Dr. Kal'tsit had not too long ago been turned down. Perhaps even kicked out?

I did not foresee such a... direct refusal.

I'm not surprised at all, to be honest. To many Sarkaz, the invitation of the King is barely worth the paper it's printed on.

On the other hand, our 'connections' with Sargon and Rim Billiton have delivered good news. As for Columbia... Some scientists have proposed a technology exchange program.

They have their eyes on the ancient Sarkaz witchcraft, while we have need of their latest mobile farms.

It took us a century's effort to share an equal dialogue with these powers.

The results speak for themselves. You are creating new history, Theresa.

Thank you, Kal'tsit.

But I can tell you've had a lot on your mind recently.

The Military Commission has been formally established.

Babel's existence will spark yet another near-irreconcilable conflict in Kazdel.

Our staff comes from different races and nations. How should they live alongside the Sarkaz?

If your efforts to soothe enmity and prejudice instead become a fuse to spark conflict anew, what does Your Highness plan to do?

If we cannot even eliminate prejudice and hatred within the walls of Kazdel, how can Babel hope to achieve equality for the Sarkaz throughout all of Terra?

There will be members of the Military Commission posted to Babel soon. They will ensure the safety of our people.

This will also serve as a warning to some.

Babel is backed by both Theresis and me.

Oh, right! Did I ever tell you how I met a Sankta Messenger, Kal'tsit?

Strange. The Sankta do not generally dare to approach the borders of Kazdel. Was this why Your Highness disappeared this afternoon?

Was it that obvious? I thought Laqeramaline had me covered.

The Lord of the Banshees clearly tried, but judging from the results, she isn't the best pick for clerical work.

Well, what of that Sankta Messenger?

He was getting water from the river, and we struck up a conversation. We chatted about many things. History, peace, hatred.

Our viewpoints did not align on most things, but I could sense in him wisdom and intelligence beyond his years.

He had thoughts concealed within his heart, ones even he did not know of.

And so...

You used the power of the King of Sarkaz on a Sankta?

I simply wished to know what this fated encounter meant.

And... what did it mean?

It's still hard to say. But while I was looking at his soul, I felt that, perhaps... we are not so alone, Kal'tsit.

Many on this land are doing all they can to pursue hope. Hopes big and small, hopes bright and beautiful.

Ugh... That hurt... Are those people nuts or something? I just wanted to get a few nice things for myself, never even heard of any <i>Babel</i>...

He steadies himself against the wall, gasping for air as his vision begins to blur.

Fatigue floods his limbs, weighing him down.

Through his blurred vision, he sees another in front of him fall to the crazed attackers' blades. He knows he will be next.

I refuse to die here...

It's you or me, you bastards! Out of the way!

He uses the last of his strength to barrel his way out, but the only resistance he meets is solid ground.