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There, the fields share wheat most bright♪

Abode of our Lord, font of parental love♪

He hears our prayers, He grants our wishes♪

All shall bask in His love♪

The K'uk'ulkan thinks back to the past. The gravely wounded nun closed herself off from the world as she sang, until pain and night melted away into her song.

The K'uk'ulkan sings once more this song she has sung a hundred thousand times before. It no longer matters who wrote it, or if the Laterano within it will answer.

She does all she can to calm her nerves so that she can sing in tune. Slowly, the voices of the children join the chorus, echoing out from the room, blending with the distant peals to form a radiant glow.

All shall bask in His love♪

At the very least, they still have this song.

It might be of no use, but at least...

Nueda reaches under the hem of her habit, holding her axe tight.

R-Reverend?

I can ask our blessed companions to sniff out her position.

There was a time when, with her gun-knight armor and custom rifle, she would break the guardian gun kill record over and over. Finding her will take time.

The procession can't wait, Velliv. Focus on your work. I'll handle this myself.

It's been ten years. I'm surprised this private frequency still works.

I wanted to ask the folks at the Notarial Hall to delete it a long time ago, but I keep forgetting. Guess I've gotten old, haha.

The real surprise is you, Aurela. Why didn't you take off your armor when you left Laterano?

Without it, how am I supposed to settle things with you... Magister?

*sigh* You really hate me, don't you?

It seems the saint was right. The best motivators for the errari to return to the holy city are hatred and loathing.

Heh.

So you're saying this mysterious 'Fall' that affected all of Terra brought out their bad side?

That might be so for others, but for me... You know better than anyone else.

Naturally.

I will never forget what you did to me.

In that nomadic monastery, you wounded me yourself, read the Curia's banishment order to me yourself... You took everything away from me, yourself.

You committed mortal sins. Your punishment was pretty light, given the circumstances.

*sigh* I am responsible for your situation.

Aurela, your achievements earned you a commendation from the Pope himself. You were such a spirited young thing. I was convinced you would become the greatest gun-knight in history.

But all I taught you was how to control that cumbersome armor and master your complicated gun. I never helped you with your temper, so you could truly live the Lateran life.

And in the end, you took that final step... just as I had predicted.

Hmph. Am I supposed to thank you for worrying about my character flaws?

Just because of it, you never approved of me and Amos. You even refused to come to our wedding, even though I had hoped to get your blessing.

Maybe we should have a proper talk about all this.

One way or another, you have returned. Will you come to my side, child? My people will not refuse you, if you join the procession.

What, want to give a sinner like me another chance in the name of Laterano?

No, nothing so lofty.

The errari are still of Laterano. That is all.

In a better Laterano, everyone will find their place and play their part. There will be more foundational, more profound connections between us all.

No matter who you are, no matter what you have done, the Holy City will mend your halo and fix the flaws you were born with.

When that time comes, all our pain and regrets will be healed in turn.

No thanks.

Aurela...

Listen, old man—

I hate how self-righteous you are. I hate how weak Amos was. I hate how inflexible the Curia is. I hate Laterano's stupid garbage about harmony! I hate how cold this Paradise is!

I never forgot this hate, even over ten years in Bolívar!

Even though my halo shattered, even though I was trapped in the dirt, I never once doubted that I would return!

Even when I was enthusiastic and wet-behind-the-ears, I never felt as sure of myself as I do now!

This is my connection with Laterano! <i>This</i> is my faith!

Your student turned out to be a cruel, vicious, selfish soul. Even if she hadn't fallen, she was still no angel!

Tell me, old man, this 'better Laterano' of yours, if it will let in someone who was born evil, does it deserve to be called Paradise?!

Or are you unsure about that too?!

Question time's over.

You've been trying to get a bead on me all this time... Failed?

You've actually gotten better since you left, Aurela—

Grkh! *cough* *cough*—<i>Flagritriba!</i>

These new glasses Vani got me... turned out really clear...

The 'Saint' drags her massive body along as she walks at the head of the procession. The Sankta named Lemuel jumps around, pulling out gun after gun like prestidigitation, raining a hail of gunfire onto her quarry.

But the 'Saint' barely even spares her a glance.

Her halo shimmers, and despite the great distance separating them, Patrizion still hears her 'voice' with perfect clarity.

Their empathy is growing stronger, which means their long journey approaches its end.

Allow our other cohorts to take care of your friend's remains, Patrizion. We do not need to mourn him.

Your Beatitude...

Do you still remember that arborbeast fledgling?

If we reach our destination, Laterano shall recreate the miracle of life once more. Every miracle, freely performed.

You mean...?

And so, we move onwards.

The grand procession passes statues after statue, workshop after workshop. The city grows brighter, step by step, pace by pace.

Patrizion walks forward in silence.

S... Stop.

A young gunsmith's apprentice walks against the flow of people, stopping in front of Patrizion. Vannini stares down the gun-knight, many times taller than her. She raises her gun against him.

The crowd parts around them, but none look toward them. Vannini bites her lip, doing her best to stop her hand from trembling.

Ah, you are his apprentice, yes?

Magister Paganini... Where is he?

He...

He warned me. So in the dream, I-I... hid in the workshop. After I awoke, I still hesitated for so long...

Right now, you're... scary. Laterano's scary. I don't know what's going on, I don't even have a patron firearm...

But I can't just hide and wait...

So you made yourself that gun and came to stop me?

Mhm.

That's very brave of you.

But do you see this procession, my child? We will birth a miracle, one that nearly all Laterans will be a part of.

It's not 'scary'.

(Shakes head) That's got... nothing to do with me.

I'm not very... good with words. I couldn't... couldn't think of any worse ones...

Magister Paganini was... my only family...

My only... connection... to Laterano...

Your only connection, huh...?

Pag, you never got a halo in the dream, so why did you join the procession?

To find a chance to kill you, obviously.

That sniper, your old student?

Tragic, isn't it?

Worse than when Gia left?

You still going to listen to that monster? Going to keep protecting the crowd on this walk?

Don't think I don't know what you're thinking.

The Laterano of fifty years ago forced you to banish an infected Liberi. The Laterano of ten years ago forced you to banish a fallen gun-knight.

Even your granddaughter is far too stubborn and opinionated. Who knows if someday, she too will...

So, you hope for a better Laterano?

You want it to be like a doctor who becomes a miracle worker, able to treat Oripathy, able to fix personality flaws, able to make everyone accept one another, no questions asked?