act34side

To capture him, or even execute him is a duty we Abyssal Hunters must perform in the future.

Captain Gladiia...

But for the moment, our mission is to search for the remaining Seaborn scattered around the city units, and put every last one of them to the sword.

...What must be said, I have said.

You've avoided answering the question at the heart of all this, Mártus.

The question... at the heart...?

From your description, everything that transpired beneath the ruins, the crimes you committed and the consequences incurred... They all seemed to stem from some mysterious 'inevitability.'

But the Mártus I know was an eccentric yet gifted man. He was doubtful by nature, and not one for making arbitrary decisions.

He would not have rashly discarded all reason and played at being the mystic. And he would have been even less inclined to reject his own existence, or ignore the worth of others.

The choices I have made, the outcomes I have borne.

Why do you care what the past Mártus thought, before he made his decision?

His past choices have made you who you are now. Without understanding his reasoning, we cannot understand your existence.

You would care about such trifles as well, Kal'tsit?

(The nuclei within its skull spin)

I understand now.

Of course you would care. How could you not?

The human that once ate the strange flesh experienced such struggle, too. Was it a day, or perhaps several? In the depths of the ruins, time holds no measure.

He feared. He doubted. He was compelled to think over every possibility.

Where will the next crisis come from? When will it descend upon Terra? He used a lifetime of knowledge to attempt to decipher the undecipherable, to comprehend the incomprehensible.

If there exists a lifeform that could survive the cosmos of quietus, even if only as a singular being, how would it be born?

Given infinite time, even the tiniest fin will be able to type out the ultimate truth of all things on a terminal using its tail. But time was our most precious resource.

Admittedly, the Feranmut before him had foreseen our ruinous prospects, but could He and His progeny continue bearing the torch of life through it all?

Supposing they could, before they instinctually iterate a way of overcoming that destruction in a limited time, how large a population and how efficient a fecundity would they require?

Would they have to consume a patch of sea? A whole planet? An entire star system? How many must die to support their lives?

Supposing they could not, then where did the true answer lie? On the other side of the ocean? On the other side of the sky? Or perhaps it is somewhere out in the sea of stars, untouchable by Terran hands?

Even if you spent your entire life simulating, you would not have been able to obtain a definite conclusion.

The information you possessed was simply insufficient to calculate every possibility.

Indeed, Kal'tsit. But the past Mártus had no choice but to try.

Danger and possibility both hung above his head, while below his feet he found only an unseen tightrope.

You could have informed your country from the start.

Ægir would have helped take on your burdens. The oldest records of the Academy of Science could verify the past you saw. The latest inventions of the Academy of Technology could model the future you envisioned.

To cede the choice to others. Is that a solution, or an escape?

The choices of the countless many against the choices of the few. Are they more accurate, or more ambiguous? More earnest, or more capricious?

Suppose the means for life to continue is not civilization, and the species that transcends ruin is not humanity. If so, how would Ægir react?

Enough, Mártus.

If you <i>had</i> thought of every possibility and foresaw the bitter price to pay, then your final decision is even more inexcusable.

No, Ægir, I do not mean to defend my choices.

What I wanted to say was that, at the time, there was an immature lifeform that interrupted my flights of fancy.

Its tentacles were minute, and its body yet uncoordinated. Beneath its translucent membranes, simple organs could be clearly seen.

Born from Ishar-mla, it had unknowingly crawled past the cabin wall, and was licking my ankle happily.

Was it unaware of how swiftly its death would come?

Did it not know that it was destined to become one of those insignificant dots among the millions of bio-signatures on the monitor?

Being the progeny of a Feranmut, could it have not seen the frightful vision its parent saw? Was it unaware that the destiny of its entire race was only to foretell and greet ruination?

It just wriggled calmly towards its foreordained destruction, acting out of instinct only.

As for us, there are countless possibilities to consider before making a decision, countless trade-offs to worry over.

We find ourselves unable to ignore the costs of our decisions, or the results, or the value and meaning of those results.

Humanity, glub—Humanity is ever a prisoner of itself, ever one step behind 'fate.'

This is the essential difference between humanity and the Seaborn. This is why they are suited to bear the duty of continued existence.

That's why you ate the strange flesh?;That's why you became like this?;That's why you interfered with civilization's evolution?

If there is any life that can survive that future of quietus, no matter what form it takes...

It is worth fighting for, no matter the cost.

'There is no justice here. Only the path ahead.'

You should understand now why you must help we many evolve.

You are not the first one the Doctor and I have seen who can barely qualify as human, but they all made their hard choices.

No one had ever made a choice as horrifying as yours.

Before you ate that flesh to become a Seaborn, you had already renounced thinking as a human does.

From my perspective, that which you abandoned in your final moments—your doubts, misgivings, concerns, and struggles—were the most precious of treasures.

They're treasures because they're unending.

The Seaborn are swallowing Terra's life whole. You have not denied this, nor can you stop it. How are we to see them as our hope?

What is your choice then, Kal'tsit? To incubate Originium?

The collapsed stargate, the extinguished sarcophagi... Of the countless failed plans, is Originium the only one still in operation?

Stones amidst the land and sky, ever silent. They are an incurable disease, harming life atop dry land.

And yet, they are a plan left by the prehistoric civilization, one expected to save all existence at the very end... In ways incomprehensible to the average person.

Glub—The stairwell to survival can only be forged in the fires of destruction.

No. Such destruction must not happen.

Much like Caerula Arbor, Originium at some point turned to the annihilation you speak of. It changed in ways none can understand, and none can reverse.

And since it has changed, it must now be stopped.

Whatever the case, using life to feed life or ruin to beget ruin would only serve to remove all meaning from survival.

...Kal'tsit. Or rather, AMa-10 from the records. You surprise me.

You and I should have arrived at the same conclusion via different paths. No. You should have been even more rational, more decisive.

I merely noticed a spark of the prehistoric civilization and took on its mantle. You, however, were born for this task. You held aloft its torch eons before I did.

You have kept watch over their distant aspirations and legacies. You have carried out your assigned mission. You witnessed changes. You bore loss... No human could have toiled for as long as you have.

But now...

Has endless 'life' rendered you feeble, Kal'tsit? Has it turned you human?

Kal'tsit has always been like this.;You don't know Kal'tsit at all.

Was it... because of this one?

Dr. {@nickname}, or rather... Oracle?

Many facilities, many doors, your fingerprints, face, voice... Within the cerulean cave, among the ruins... traces of you lie everywhere.

You have visited the depths of the abyss before.

Have I?;A pity I don't remember...

I recognized you. I have been speaking with Kal'tsit until now only because it is more efficient.

You must know the truth. Your visitation is sure to have meaning. Perhaps you are able to explain why the project is at a standstill.

But your title is different now; something has happened to you. Otherwise, Kal'tsit would have held no doubts about what had happened to the plan.

For several reasons, the Doctor is unable to remember many of the things back then.

(The nuclei within its skull spin)

'Memory loss'... Glub, unsurprising.

Losing one's memory is perhaps the most insignificant sacrifice you could make.

Even the most resilient of life cannot withstand the ravages of tens of thousands of years. The fact that you still exist upon Terra is in itself a miracle.

What I saw, what He saw, what They saw. Those frightful visions are an absolute truth to you.

You have lost your proud civilization and homeland. Heaven and earth have lost all color. Time and space have become vast prisons.

You have been exiled by despair. You have stopped to rest upon Terra. You have not escaped your fated ruin... All men will perish, all things rendered meaningless.

Despite this, you have not stopped fighting for hope. This planet has been forever marked by your resistance... Even if those marks are mostly wreckages.

I revere you and your cause. You, the people of a bygone age.

A Seaborn acknowledges my past?;If that 'cause' involves today's Seaborn...;Maybe the project stalled because they realized the cost.

Dr. {@nickname}, whether you accept it, deny it, or are undecided, it matters not to me. I am not hoping to win your understanding.

I seek not your approval.

You, and your comrades, had planted hope in the depths of the sea. A possibility. A spark.

Perhaps you have forgotten it. Perhaps you have renounced it. Perhaps you now stand against it, come what may. Now, it is I who tends to this light. And I shall not see it extinguished.

The rejection of our flame's kindler will not waver the many's resolution.

Let's stop trying to prove ourselves. We shall return to the reality itself.