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A single tear falls from the corner of Juana's eye, scattered by the wind before it hits the ground.

Your swordplay has already improved tremendously. I thought it would take more time.

I'm sorry...

For what? I'd have joined you in that cave, if I weren't recovering from my injuries.

...Were you crying?

What did I tell you about asking a lady a question she'd rather not answer?

...My apologies.

There's no need to feel bad. I was planning to ask you to kill hi—it eventually, once you were strong enough.

We just moved up the schedule. You must be incredibly talented with a blade to have accomplished it so soon.

It... had a sword with the name Cruz on it.

I thought you should have it.

I... still haven't delivered the killing blow.

You can still say goodbye, if you want.

Gracias.

The Seaborn writhes, its appendages twitching as swords scrape dully against one another.

But this sound soon fades, along with the Seaborn's feeble breathing. Juana knows that the last vestige of its life is slipping away.

With its last bit of strength, it lifts itself from the ground, using the swords impaling it as support.

I'm sorry for imprisoning you in this cave for so long.

Your suffering will end soon.

I'm glad I met that boy, so you could meet your end by the sword in an honorable duel.

Rather than being put down as a monster...

So many have failed... but he succeeded.

If he's willing to go out to sea with us, surely he would be your equal as captain.

Juana approaches the creature, places a hand upon its smooth face, and gazes into its clouded eyes.

It struggles as it senses her approach, but its once-strong appendages betray it, and it falls to the ground.

Juana holds its head and places it upon her knees.

The light-emitting organ on its forehead dims. Juana is reminded of that night many years ago, when she saw a tiny sailboat from beneath the surface.

On that boat stood a young man, gazing curiously into the water, lamp in hand.

May your soul be freed from the Salt Flat, and return to the ocean with the clouds and rain.

May we meet again on the boundless ocean.

Farewell, my love.

Juana feels a stinging pain in her chest. This is good. It is a sign that she still lives, and has not been numbed over the past century.

Deep in the ocean, in an Ægir city, the years pass like a single day.

Deep in the Salt Flat, in an Iberian settlement, life is bland as water.

It is only upon the waves, in strife and struggle, that her blood flows, that her heart beats.

It is only then that she feels hunger, the desire to take a bite out of tomorrow, and cough violently at its taste.

She will bite out the shape of the future, one mouthful at a time, and down it with bitter brine.

Let go of me, you piece of finshit!

Juana and Isidro will have you all killed when they see what you're doing to me!

Shut her up.

Finshit... mmph, nnf!

I've sent out word, Rus. The escort will be ready soon. You leave with the chica.

I'll look for the compass in the boss's room and catch up once I find it.

Er, I'm not quite sure I understand what's going on here. Is this a mutiny?

Could somebody explain things to me?

Do we hand him over too?

Aye.

Thorns won't...

I... mmph, nnf!

Finally, some peace and quiet.

Mmpf...

(Pokes head out from under the table)

(C'mon... over here...)

She tries to signal it with her eyes, but Rus and Javier's footsteps send it back into hiding.

She grits her teeth and opens her eyes wide, trying to put on the fiercest look she can muster to scare it into coming out.

What? Salt got in your eyes?

Hmm?

Just leave her be.

Wish I could, but the way she's scrunching her face is an eyesore.

Mmph?!

Mmph—!!

Hmph, nothing...

Lemme take a look.

As Rus approaches, Pascuala struggles even harder against her fetters.

That is, until she catches a glimpse of Elysium slowly edging towards the table, and the saltfin beneath.

She stops struggling and keeps her gaze firmly on the duo in front of her, doing her utmost not to avert her eyes even a little bit.

Nene? What are you doing here?

Mmph!

What's this on your fin?

That's... Elysium's flag. Something must have happened back at the fleet.

Let's hurry!

Mmph... mmph!

Mmph—!

Give it up already, will you?

Don't blame me for handing you over to the Inquisition. We all have to look out for ourselves.

I'll take the cloth out of your mouths if you'll quiet down.

(Nods hesitantly)

I'll be quiet...

Yeah, if you know what's good for you.

But even if you hand us and the compass over, that doesn't mean things will end well for you. Ever thought about that?

Yeah...

The bodies of your dead crewmates are still decorating the flagpole outside of town. You sure you won't end up joining them?

No... Not here either...

Where is that blasted compass? The chaval puts it back here every night!

Is this what you're looking for, Javi?

You shouldn't have come back so soon, Juana.

On the contrary, I think I returned at precisely the right time.

Señora, I... I don't have a choice.

Put down the knife, Javi. I taught you how to use it. You don't stand a chance.

You're injured. Might not even be hard.

How did it come to this?

What dissatisfaction could possibly have driven you to point your blade at me?

I was never unhappy with you. I supported every decision you ever made, every idea you ever had.

When my mother left me, you took my hand and said we were family.

Ever since then, I've never been unhappy with you.

Then why?

It's for your good, Juana... for you...

Lies. I'm standing right here.

Tell me! How is it my for own good when you're pointing a blade at me?

The Juana I know wouldn't put the entire fleet in danger for her own selfish desires. She's a brave, wise leader we can trust.