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A week.

Our countless nanomachines have established steady information flows. Compressed fleets and cities can speed through them, traversing the oceans in an instant.

However, assembling our forces will still take time.

A week... How quick.

You need not hide your worries, Dr. Kal'tsit.

There are essential differences between the ways we and the landwalkers think. Simple sincerity is insufficient for reaching effective bilateral cooperation.

On the one hand, we hope that reinforcements will arrive as soon as possible. On the other, you worry that the subsequent contact and communications will be outside your control.

You even worry that Skadi and the Doctor have deviated from your plans.

You already know of Skadi's secret, then.

My Little Handy happened to record a chance meeting between Skadi, the Doctor, and Mártus on a street corner.

Compared to discovering the secrets of their identities, controlling who knows what is much more difficult.

An Abyssal Hunter with a Firstborn within her, and a Predecessor scientist who witnessed the rise and fall of the prehistoric civilization in person. They are both of great import to Ægir.

Based on simple evolutionary logic, the Firstborn would not have chosen to entrust the future of its kin to its killer.

We still have no idea how the Seaborn will become the final answer to resisting ruination.

Even with missing memories, the Doctor still bears that mission. How will this so-called 'death of all things' come about, and what can Terra do about it? We must find out.

Skadi and the Doctor are, without a doubt, the key to Ægir's solving of the riddles.

Skadi will face her blood. The Doctor's duty will be fulfilled. But it should be their choice, not somebody else's scheme.

I fear that once Ægir learns of their identities, it will devise ways to exploit them.

Horatia asked me earlier if I was hiding something from her.

And how did you answer, Madame Consul?

No need to worry. She does not know, yet.

You truly treasure Skadi and the Doctor, don't you? Even when confronted with a disaster threatening to wipe out civilization, you still wish to respect their choices.

But this is no time for us to hesitate. I can't hide this from Horatia forever.

I presume you have a plan then, considering you're hiding this from her at all.

I've reached an agreement with Gladiia. We will take over all Abyssal Hunter-related research in the name of the Legions, and ensure that the Hunters will not be put in circumstances depriving them of a choice.

As for the Doctor and myself... We hope to go deeper into the Ægir home territories, and solve these mysteries by ourselves.

I fear that we will need an Ægir guide.

Well then... it would be my pleasure.

Cassia will receive the punishment she deserves. Milliarium's incubation chamber has been moved to safety, so as long as the city doesn't fall, the child she left behind will be born safely.

They will be raised in the Institute of Incubation.

I know what you're thinking. The fate of a Church of the Deep cultist isn't worth calling you over for.

Do you still think that everything will end in ruin, Mr. Avitus?

I still believe in history. Once written, it can never be changed.

Even a tragic victory is destined to be another page in its annals.

I'm glad to hear you say that.

Let's get down to business, Jordi. I met with Consul Clementia.

I confessed everything. What I was thinking, what I did, what I saw but never spoke of.

I accepted the tribunal's interrogation, but they did not believe I deserved to be labeled fallen. I had stood at the precipice and looked around. Perhaps even stuck a toe over the edge, but no more than that.

Their final verdict was that I could keep my post and continue to stay in Milliarium.

It sounds like you have other plans, though?

They may see it as repentance, but I cannot forget the outcome of my silence and inaction.

I'm not arrogant enough to believe I could have affected an entire military campaign on my own, but... what if I had reported Cassia's unusual behavior?

This could have played out very differently.

And so, I plan to leave Milliarium.

To where? The Ægirian home territories?

Somewhere even further than that.

Even further?

Now that the Waterway has opened, Ægir is about to restart the work interrupted by the Seaborn.

Expeditionary fleets will once more explore the far side of Terra, but this time, we have changed the course of our voyage.

We might set off from that mining nation of Rim Billiton, and try to touch the edge of the sea.

Better I die on some expedition into the unknown than wallow here in sorrow, self-reproach, and despair until it saps me of all my strength.

There, whether we go forwards or downwards, no one knows what awaits us. We will be like Breogan in times of yore, pushing back against the darkness of ignorance.

Y-You mean...?

You caught on, Jordi Fontanarossa. Yes, I'm inviting you to join us on this distant voyage.

I'm not the only one who desires this.

You said earlier that I never answered your questions properly. You were right, and I should apologize. But there was something I truly wished to tell you back then.

We have no need to prove our place. Even if the vestiges of the past have worn you down to nothing, you can still tie your future to Ægir.

I don't know what to say, this is all a bit much...

Don't worry. Ægir respects the choices of all its citizens.

Farewell on your carefully-considered departure. We await your eventual return, no matter how long it may take.

...Maestro.

Today's maintenance work on the lighthouse should be finished. Is there some sort of issue with the others?

No, I'm just here to watch the sea, like you.

I heard from the other Inquisitors that you kept making time to come to the coast, even while we were in Milliarium?

Iberia threw a stone into the sea. We were worried it would foment an unstoppable wave, but what was even more worrying was that it might sink in silence, with nary a whisper.

Fortunately, the stone stirred up the ripples we hoped for, and Iberia was able to see the circumstances beneath the waves... and in so doing make up its mind.

You performed your duties as envoy admirably. If there was ever a time in your life to stand tall with your head held high, now is that time.

Y-Yes, sir!

Maestro, I've been thinking about returning to Gran Faro. Going back to the chapel, and where I used to live with Uncle Thiago.

...You should have seen Thiago one last time.

We live in an age of regrets. If you see the Inquisition as the source of those regrets, I cannot refute you.

If you have things to pack, Irene can help you.

What? No, that's not what I meant. I'm really just thinking of... going back to have a look.

In other words, you haven't yet made up your mind.

Yeah...

You told me earlier that the Inquisition letting me to return to Ægir was a test. Am I not...

On the contrary, Jordi. Do not mistake bewilderment for momentary hesitation.

You have lifted your lantern and clearly seen the fork in the road before you. You are merely weighing your choices before choosing which path to follow.

The sea fog is thick, and both routes seem slick with mud. But you are not the one to be criticized for this.

Jordi Fontanarossa.

If you choose to follow that Ægirian scholar into unknown waters, the Inquisition will not stop you. The strength of the waves crashing against the shore will not change because a single clerk leaves or stays.

If you choose to stay ashore in Iberia, you will carry responsibilities that are more exhausting than you are used to, but also much more important.

Those are the expectations Iberia has for you.

The choice is yours.

I... I understand, Maestro.

By the by, Irene mentioned that you've been suffering from severe insomnia these past few days. How was last night?

It rained rather heavily around midnight, without a star in the sky. By the crack of dawn, there had been about two or three urgent situations I had to handle.

But overall, a rather peaceful night, all things considered.

Do the Seaborn dream?

Dreams are comprised of thoughts or emotions flaring up as they dissipate, but now I am nothing more than instinct.

Why... this scene... again...

Following the unfathomable passages in the ruins, at the very end, a great beast gently sticks a tentacle to the bulkhead. What is it waiting for? Perhaps...

I walk forward, passing through the shadow of the cerulean tree, until I am before Him. I extend a hand.

(Unknown language) Warning. Deep sleep procedures will commence in three minutes.

(Unknown language) Real-time translation programs will soon shut down. Please provide all necessary instructions as soon as possible.

(Unknown language) Ishar'mla, our shared name... our shared decision.

(Unknown language) We trust one another. We feel as one, do we not?

(Unknown language) I will watch over you, until the end of my days.

No, this person isn't me.

This isn't my dream. It's... Ishar-mla's memories?