act42side

Connect the sensor wire, and activate the timer.

The last bomb... is ready!

Dammit, it's really hard not to march to this heartbeat!

*pant*—*pant*—

Fortunately, I've got the quickest brain in Penguin Logistics!

I could play Super Music Tycoon with one hand and raygun bottle shooting with the other, and beat both the boss and Texas at the same time!

All that practice wasn't for nothing!

Two minute countdown.

Blow up this corridor, and the path to the nursery will be cut off.

I hope my sister's intel is good...

The Shrine of Nurtury took a pregnant Sarkaz from a nomadic abbey, and got her to give birth to a Sarkaz at the Summit of Nations in this crazy ceremony...

I don't know what they're trying to do, but if I can keep her from appearing in front of the crowd—

Excuse me, you're in the way.

The mother is about to give birth. I want to get closer and pray for her.

Sorry, I'll…

Wait.

Pregnant... Sarkaz... aren't you the one?!

Yeah. What of it?

Huh?

Shouldn't you be giving birth—

Lemuel, right?

We've met before. Your sister brought you to our place.

Oh, er, Fiammetta's grandpa... salve...

The others are searching for the bombs and neutralizing them, Reverend Patrizion.

Good work.

Stop this Sankta. She has more explosives on her.

Snipers are in position. We will shoot to kill if the suspect attempts to escape.

Phew.

Reverend Patrizion...

You're late, Cardinal Lemuen.

Take the suspect back to the Seventh Tribunal.

But if the Nativity isn't about this Sarkaz, then...?

The heartbeat that resonated throughout the hall has quieted down.

A door opens to a corridor. Exusiai looks in the direction of the sound—

Carrying a small bundle, the Nurturer stands in the light shining through the door. His hands and robes are stained with blood, but the bundle is clean.

With head bowed, he walks slowly toward the Hall of Enlightenment, towards the waiting Matriarch. The crowd parts to let him through.

Thank you, Andoain.

The Matriarch takes the newborn from the Nurturer. She cannot see, and thus does not realize that his brow is furrowed in sorrow.

The Matriarch gently opens the bundle, and reveals the newborn—

A fledgling beast.

He leans against the Matriarch's shoulder, mucous membrane still sticking to its infantile paws. The wet and creased fur shows no sign of relaxing.

His eyes are closed, his breathing barely audible.

As you can see, the first life that the Shrine of Nurtury has brought into this world is this fledgling arborbeast.

His weight is nothing. His weight is everything.

Before I came to Laterano, I found his mother in an abandoned nomadic abbey. She was so famished, her feathers fallen, that I did not at first recognize her as an arborbeast.

A hunter's spear had impaled the mother's abdomen, but missed the fetus by inches.

I do not know how his mother hid for so long, how she survived, and how she stayed awake through the pain and hunger.

Until now.

I thank this strong mother, our Sankta and Liberi brethren, and our honored guests from afar—

This child was born amidst our prayers. He is a miracle that you have made together.

But why...?

Why do his eyes not open?

Matriarch. The newborn's breathing is growing weaker...

I tried everything I could think of. His mother gave her all.

Perhaps the mother's injuries were too grave, depriving the fetus of nutrition...

Andoain, we may all have forgotten one thing.

Do you mean...?

The childbirth was long and painful. But from beginning to end, all we felt through the comfort bells, through empathy, was a single heartbeat.

This child was so weak that he could not even express his desire to live, the most primal, most instinctive cry of life.

Andoain bows his head and does not speak.

Is this what you thought the Nativity would be, Mostima?

No.

Normally, we'd already be cutting the cake beside a crying baby...

Damn, this is depressing.

Do they mean that after all that effort from the mother, the baby was stillborn?

Che cazzo! How could this be?!

Lord above!

Is there anything we can do? Like what we did just now, the thousands of us here...

What if I never felt Bailey's heartbeat after hours of waiting outside the delivery room...? What would my wife and I have done...?

No, I can't bear to imagine it!

Poor baby, if you can hear my voice...

Somewhere in the crowd, someone begins sobbing.

Gradually, more and more people lose control of their emotions. Their cries join together and echo through the halls, for the poor mother and her stillborn child.

Then, another cry rings out.

It is not a sad sound. It is young and bright.

The fledgling arborbeast opens its eyes, and, as though sensing the emotions of the crowd, cries out for the first time in its life. It stretches its limbs, and the sheen miraculously returns to its fur.

The Matriarch embraces the newborn life tightly, crying tears of joy. One such tear drops from the empty eye sockets behind her veil, falling upon the fledgling's head, reflecting the light of the sun.

The fledgling does not stop crying. As though driven by the wailing, the light begins to break free of the void's shackles, becoming rich and full—

A halo.

The mark of the Sankta, the symbol of the Law, the embodiment of truth. It has illuminated this unfamiliar creature—

A shining, miraculous beacon.

The Lord has once again answered our prayer. He has blessed this child.

This is a miracle not seen in a thousand years. Its appearance on the eve of calamity is a revelation from the Law.

We are all witnesses. We are all participants.

Henceforth, we are born equal and one, beginning with the Holy City, and ending with the Holy City.

—As Sankta.

In the Matriarch's embrace, the newborn licks her arms. He has awakened.

Once again, the comfort bells sway. A new heartbeat, strong and regular, fills the Shrine of Nurtury.

Laterano granted a halo to an arborbeast fledgling?

Even the most incredible miracle in <i>The Saints' Travels</i> pales in comparison.

Is this a divine blessing, or a terrible calamity?

My greater concern is whether it is true, whether it should be believed.

Since when did you start doubting everything you see?

There are too many details, Arturia.

The unusual confessional.

The boundless wheat fields.

The crackdown on the manufacturing of firearms and explosives. The firearms workshops being shut down.

The sudden change in Landen Monastery's role.

The abrupt changes in the administration of the Curia. The colleagues who suddenly appeared to interfere with my investigation.

It was the appearance of Richele and his men, despite the fact that he should not have known my movements, that confirmed my suspicions. Otherwise, I would have continued my efforts to apprehend you.