act39side

Hesitantly, he strings a few words together in the gaps between attacks.

Juana... what do you... think you're doing...?

Killing traitors.

No... Juana!

If all you wanted was to kill us, you could've done so easily. Why hold to the tradition?

You're trying to tell us to affirm our decision by facing you with courage?

Am I wrong? AM I WRONG?!

*pant* *pant* Juana...

Javier...

If you've realized that, why are you still holding back?

Isidro's left arm is shaking with pain. His sword has already left his hand.

Under Anastasio's incessant interrogation, he finds himself overcome by an even sharper pain.

The dispersed Corazonix once again converges upon him, having drifted amidst the salt and steam.

You asked what I want.

I want Juana to sail upon the seas that she's longed for all these years.

I want Pascuala to go to bed with a full stomach, not wake up in the middle of the night from hunger.

I want Weedy to go back safely to her research, and for Elysium to make it on time to that concert he's been looking forward to.

Yet all I see is how you people tear each other apart as you hasten to your own demise.

Who, precisely, did this tragedy begin with?

Juana. She, who has forgotten the pain of the Profound Silence. She, who is determined to ride to her doom seeking thrills that live on only in her memory.

It was her desire that dragged Pascuala into the abyss. The girl who wanted nothing more than food on the table was made to steal the Inquisition's forbidden relic, blinded by greed and promises of riches.

And then the rest of your fellows. When you say you wish their lives to return to normalcy, have you given any thought as to why they fell to abnormality?

It was because of you, Isidro.

Juana's desire infected you, and you in turn have infected more innocents.

...I know.

People are affected by one another. There's nothing wrong with that.

Everyone I met at Aarón kept their head down and their windows shut. No one spoke a word to each other, unless it was absolutely necessary.

Maybe it's the teachings of the Inquisition, or maybe the trauma of the great calamity that's never faded from their hearts. I couldn't say.

What I can say, though, is that no one should have to live like that.

Anastasio pulls his sword out of Isidro's shoulder.

Carrying the red glow of the steam, the Corazonix returns to its place inside Isidro's glove and once again flows upon his arm.

For an instant, he can feel the gushing heat of the entire Skeletal Reef converged upon his right arm.

Go on, Isidro. If you have finally decided to expose your true nature, then I shall hear your confession.

Because of my mentor, for a very long time, I thought the ultimate end of human interaction was consumption and assimilation, just like the Seaborn.

I thought I would be consumed by others just as I consumed them. That there would always be people compelled by someone else's desires, held hostage by someone else's decisions, ultimately losing sight of their own selves.

In the years before I joined Rhodes Island, I did my utmost to avoid something like that happening... like what happened to the people of Aarón.

But now, I understand that the 'self' I had tried so hard to protect was empty. There was nothing there.

Even after I earned some money, I lived exactly as I had as a vagabond. I wore the same clothes, ate the same food, stayed in the same places, did the same things.

I didn't know what I wanted. Maybe I didn't want anything.

Is it not happiness to live as an empty canvas?

Is that not true freedom?

Unlike your current self, the one forced to drag but more innocent souls into the abyss, as you have done.

Juana gave me a chance to leave. I chose to stay. Neither of us regrets our decisions.

So, if I indeed dragged Elysium and Weedy into this, then I should give them a chance to leave or stay.

If you want to kill them, then I'll just have to kill you first.

Isidro senses the once chaotic movement of the Corazonix becoming rhythmic. With each pulse on his arm, steam bursts from the nearby bones.

It dawns on him that the Corazonix, salvaged from the transmutation table, is now fulfilling its intended function while attached to him.

He wants to lead his friends out of this deadly Skeletal Reef, so it is guiding him by indicating the direction of the searing steam flowing through the bones.

Isidro tears his glove off.

Flowing Corazonix has filled every gash and hole that the Arts energy had left upon his flesh.

It is now as one with him.

He picks up his sword with his right arm, and points it at Anastasio's face.

Whoa, I really did it! I actually took them out! ...Need any help, Weedy?

No, I'm done here too—as long as you don't crash the ship again!

Sure thing! Phew...

I don't think I can ever ride a roller coaster again.

Wait, Elysium... where did all that blood come from?! ...Did those bone fragments hit you?

Blood?

Eh, it's fine. Happy to take one for a friend. If Thorns knows what he wants, then what can I do but support him?

Well, at least let me wrap you up a little... And what exactly does Thorns want, again? Did he say?

Ah... he can tell you himself when the time's right!

Ah, Isidro. So you wish to atone for your sins, to rescind the impact you've had on the innocent, to send them merrily back to their old lives.

Is this an expression of your resolve? A reflection of your conscience?

When they realize the end is near, many sinners turn to sobbing appeals for the friends whom they have implicated.

Alas, that does not mean they have truly repented.

How does one who knows naught of their own desire demonstrate the ability to suppress such desire, and to atone for the sins thereof?

No. It's you who need to suppress your own desire. You who needs to demonstrate that ability.

...Naturally. I have always said that desire cannot truly be killed. Even now, the desire to feed upon the lives of others lives on within me, and I must suppress it.

I will cut off my flesh with my own hand and dispose of it.

I will demonstrate that I can suppress my thirst for it, if only briefly.

Isidro can see the grotesque scars under Anastasio's collar, marks of flesh that has grown back after being cut away.

You said desire grows endlessly, dragging more and more people into the abyss.

How many have you judged and killed with that pretext? Why do you think that you, and you alone, can suppress your own desires?

Because death is liberation.

Before being corrupted by desire, you had lived an honest life, performed honest deeds.

As such, you have the right to be liberated from that corruption. By death.

But my life was a mistake from the beginning. My very existence a sin.

Were I to die, my pathetic existence would have held no meaning other than sacrilege.

Therefore, I must atone. I must atone for as long as I can, until I am consumed by desire.

Anastasio pressed the nails on his left hand against his own chest until they pierce the skin. Only pain can calm him down now.

You mentioned the meaning of your existence.

Are you really unworthy to die, Anastasio, or do you just want to live too much?

You keep talking about your desire to feed on others. But isn't your most fundamental desire to keep on living?

Be it self-harm or the judgment of others, aren't you just trying to make sure that your so-called sinful self can live on with peace of mind?

Anastasio's assault had slowed while listening to Isidro's confession; now, it intensifies again.

Each time Isidro parries an attack, strands of Corazonix float up from his arm from the impact.

If you shall not confess, you shall die.

Look out!

Chupamedias! Cojones! Finshit!

Don't you have an Iberia to save instead of coming after us?

All for a damned compass nobody cares about!

All I ever wanted was enough money so I wouldn't have to do this stuff! You think I <i>like</i> living like this?! I hate it as much as you do!

Why do you have to come after me?

You have no right to judge me... None!

Pascuala... Pascuala!

Stop! They're not fighting back anymore!

*Pant* *Pant* I...

Stop! We... need to...

We... need to... move...

Oh... Teach...