act34side

I can fix it!

Good. You take the lead on that.

I'll protect you and Avitus. We can return to land as soon as we're done.

We worked together at the Eye of Iberia. Let's pray we do just as well this time.

But these Seaborn from the depths are different from the ones I've dealt with on land. I don't know how long I can hold them off.

We've said all that needs to be said, Mr. Avitus. Come and help, if you still have the strength!

Alright.

Hurry, Jordi!

Hurry, Jordi Fontanarossa!

You warned us through the beacon... And the strange knight who appeared at the lighthouse broke through the shell just as we were about to fall asleep.

Is he part of your plan too, Ulpianus?

The madman who's forgotten himself is an enemy of the sea, of everything abnormal that has become normal, and of himself.

No one can control someone like that. We just happened to travel together.

Are you the only one to make it back?

They're on their way.

Breaking through the nest's shell and returning through tides of Seaborn... Your speed was remarkable, but you're too late.

You've seen what's happening to Milliarium. The many have exploited Ægir, and Milliarium will be the stepping stone for their invasion of the land.

And what, precisely, is happening here?

The first thing I heard when I arrived at the port is that the Abyssal Hunter, Ulpianus, had entered the control room of the beacon tower and killed the weapons technology advisor of the Waterway Program.

And indeed, Blandus's body is right behind you.

You're quiet.

I assumed you'd feel more anguish over him.

I take it you've figured him out then, judging by your reaction.

I doubt we have time to discuss a fallen traitor... even if he was once our closest comrade.

That young man really did it.

The linkage has been repaired.

You're trying to eject the beacon tower from Milliarium... A wise plan.

It seems there's still hope for you.

This place will sink to the ocean floor in a few minutes. Do you smell it?

The stench of frenzy...The Seaborn above have noticed the changes to the tower. They're seizing the last opportunity to break the blockade and reach the other parts of Milliarium.

Leave, Gladiia. Now.

Come back to Ægir, Ulpianus. This is your last chance.

I still have things to clear up. If I give up now, all my efforts will have been for naught.

The dreams and end of the prehistoric civilization, where the Seaborn came from, where they will go, the calamity before our eyes, the destruction beyond the skies...

Being aware of them is not enough to turn the tides. I must learn more.

If the Seaborn have memories, I must know every last detail of them.

I'm not disputing that. We're back in the ocean, back in Ægir. We'll have many chances to approach the truth.

That is your way. And I don't disapprove. But we need more approaches, more angles, in order to maximize our odds of victory.

As you've said, I'm on another path now.

Will you still try to stop me?

Unless my eyes deceived me, the Seaborn I just killed had evolved specifically for you.

That doesn't just mean they are trying to accept you. It means that you also...

Correct.

Then you know well what being inside a rapidly hatching nest would mean for you, in your present state.

Answer me, Ægir. How much of your mind is still your own?

Is there even enough left for you to choose death?

It's the only way for me to earn the trust of these scum.

You're an outstanding Hunter, and a learned scientist. Are you really so arrogant as to believe you can control your transformation through willpower alone?

Accidents like the one during the auto-adaptive junction surgery will not happen every time.

I can't simply watch you walk down the path of destruction.

...You're at your limit.

We're both experts in violence. You'll die if we fought here and now.

Is that so?

Her lance draws a cold arc through the air. Ulpianus lets loose the chains, and his massive anchor flies at Gladiia, forcing her to leap up.

The sound of the building sinking drowns out the clash of metal. Seawater and Seaborn rush into the control room.

In the last moments, Gladiia watches her erstwhile colleague stand before the darkened holographic sea chart, calmly waiting for the colorful waves to swallow him.

Your description raises many questions.

The feasibility of modifying a Feranmut into a biological ark by leveraging its habit of fostering an independent ecosystem inside its body had already been verified on Talos.

The technology used by the project was mature.

And their complex was deep in the mantle. Energy coming from the heart of the planet could support the facilities' operation for almost an eternity.

The project had more than sufficient power supply.

Why, then, did the project deep beneath the ocean 'stagnate,' as you put it, and go out of control, releasing innumerable Seaborn?

The existence of Feranmut was introverted by nature, yet He was to turn all things to nourishment for His survival. He was given meaning that did not belong to Him, and a name that did not belong to Him—Ishar-mla.

The changes They were put to were bolder, wilder, more ambitious, and more despairing. Their nature had long since exceeded the biological ark you speak of.

For unknown reasons, however, Their subsequent actions did not follow the program.

Meaning that the project did not proceed along the planned lines, but the new direction was also interrupted?

Not entirely. He—They continue to foster new offspring within themselves.

But the lives trapped within the Feranmut were weak. They evolved too slowly.

The new generation needed to be liberated. They needed to leave the Feranmut's body, adapt to new environments, and obtain more nutrition.

More nutrition to be fed back to the Feranmut, so that His evolution may be accelerated.

Under normal circumstances, the organisms nurtured within a Feranmut are rarely able to venture beyond its body. Yet the aggression the Seaborn have demonstrated outside...

The modifications these Feranmuts have undergone were indeed transformative.

So it was you, Mártus, who brought the Seaborn into the ocean, and sowed the seeds of calamity.

Seeds of calamity? No, the offspring were weak, and Ægir was strong.

The seabed was governed by a self-regulating ecosystem. Offspring that devoured the algae fields would be discovered and destroyed before they could proliferate.

But Ægir should not have been an obstacle. Ægir should have provided aid. Fortunately, my influence in human society was still useful.

The Institute of Development Planning had already announced the deaths of the members of the fourth observation team of the mantle ruins at that time... You 'came back from the dead' just to corrupt your countrymen?!

I held no forums, no debates, only a few sincere conversations. I helped some discover the problem, and some discover the answer.

It was enough that they were willing to give the Seaborn an opportunity. We many will find a way out eventually.

The ecological disasters, the fallen cities, the citizens lost... How many of those were you responsible for?

Was it you who cajoled Blandus and the cultists behind him to infiltrate the Waterway Program and alter our weapon systems?

(The nuclei within its skull spin)

This so-called Church of the Deep is not a formal organization, at least not in the sea.

It needs no guidance, no leader.

Not an organization... You mean you manipulated the people's thoughts and behaviors only using their faith and tenets?

How did you implant the ethereal concept of 'god' into them, when such absurd ideas were completely absent in Ægir?

Civilization could never truly purge the idea of primal worship. It awaits at the end of science, ready to be awakened at a moment's notice.

The Ægir you call 'cultists' do not know the truth. Each of them acts according to their own thoughts and ideals. Each faces their own questions and dilemmas.

'Selfishness and altruism.'

'Flaws and perfection.'

'Nature and civilization.'

'Logic and unreason.'

'The differences in strength and the shackles of form.'

'The limitations of ethics and the future of humanity.'

'A manufactured truth and the beautiful cycle...'

You deceived your followers.;It was all a scam from the get-go?

(The nuclei within its skull spin)

A scam? No.

Primal worship originates from the survival instinct.

Every thread of thought by every 'cultist' ultimately leads to a single question: How to survive better.