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That way, no more sad farewells like you've suffered through before?

*cough*... You're a coward through and through, Patrizion!

Farewells are like melted ice cream and worn-out guns. Doesn't matter what you do, it's bound to happen, right?

Even if you can't stop them from happening, you can still give your well-wishes. A simple 'goodbye' is all you need.

It's not like you have a speech impediment like Vannini. Is it so hard to find a way to shed some of your regret?

Enough talk! Just hang on!

Hang on, my feathery ass—*cough*—This is... a bullet that can cut right through gun-knight armor...

Don't touch me. Let me finish, otherwise I'll step into the grave that much quicker.

A-Alright then...

What's with the tone? Don't even think about getting sentimental on me, Patrizion!

Why do you think I saved you?

Don't jabber at me about calamity or crisis or what path Laterano should take...

If the city really is going to be destroyed, surely we can do more than just leave it to some monster from beyond our nightmares that sprang up out of nowhere?

Aurela, Fiammetta, all those other Laterans you know... Are these connections that weak to you?

You're a <i>gun-knight</i>, you <i>stulte!</i> The best gun-knight in all of Laterano!

*cough* *cough*—

Paganini gets more intense the more he rambles, but his voice grows quieter by the second.

Patrizion holds his old friend tight, feeling the warmth slowly drain out of him, as though the last dregs of his life had spilled out with his latest outburst.

Hey, not going to say anything?

Never mind then. Before, at the Shrine, I said we never actually shared anything these past few decades...

Now, at the very least... That regret's gone.

My magister, he...

Forgive me. I couldn't even give you one final moment with Pag.

*sob*—

Vannini, i-if you had just... been a bit quicker... making this gun, if you had just gotten here quicker...

Vannini lowers her head as if in a daze. She looks about at the people walking past, like she is only just noticing her surroundings.

Her halo suddenly begins to shine. All it would take is a momentary waver of the heart, and the empathy of the countless masses would come crashing down on this confused, lonely Sankta.

No, child.

Keep a tight grip on your gun!

Ggh...

For a moment, Patrizion feels pain, but it is followed by a gentle, yet irrefusable comfort. It flows from her, from those enlightened creatures, from his people in the procession.

He knows his unusual reaction has been noticed, prompting the crashing waves of empathy, like seawater forcing its way back upriver.

Ah—

Patrizion feels dizzy. He sighs, and slowly crouches down.

A moment later, the elderly gun-knight grips the barrel of the gunsmith's apprentice's gun, pointing it towards him.

Vannini. I got your name right, I hope?

Vannini, no matter how long it took you, or for what reason you did it, you made your very first patron firearm. That makes you a qualified gunsmith.

But that is not enough. You must learn how to use it.

Now is a perfect opportunity.

Wh-What do you mean?

Keep it steady. Yes, just like that. Calm your mind, then, pull the trigger.

You... You didn't kill Magister Paganini. Also, I'll fa... fall—

I am responsible for what happened to Pag, but this is not to avenge him.

At this very moment, Laterano is walking down a new path. Faith flows into faith, and new prayers congregate into a collective consensus.

You are too close to the procession. Empathy will soon swallow you whole. Only by falling can you break away.

Once you have fallen, I'll go guide the others. This is my duty, the duty of a gun-knight.

I don't understand. Why... do you do this?

I don't really know myself, haha. I'm an old addlepate, after all.

I always believed that, were Paradise to become a true paradise, our connections would become unbreakable.

But what if in the course of all that, we lost more than we already had?

We might ease our regrets, but when the time comes, what if our success has lost all meaning?

If we were once all devils, if we once carried our sins together, how could our connections ever be broken?

O glorious Sankta, O favored of faith, what have you to fear?

(Pained inhalation)

Vannini, girl, fear not falling into hell.

This is the first lesson you should learn... and I'm right with you.

It just never ends...

If this keeps on, I'm gonna have to start smacking them with my weapon!

Me too.

My hand's getting numb, can barely hold my staff.

Don't know how it's going on Fiammetta's side of things. According to the plan, once she sets the explosives, we'll blow up the plate's locking mechanisms and send all of Pagus Saint Marcel adrift.

It'll also cut those monsters off from the Basilica.

Tsch. <i>If</i> we can hold on that long.

Dispersing Arrows!

Leave them to me!

These clothes...

Landen Guard temporary solo combat team, Hildegard, at your service!

Landen... Sorry, never heard of you.

It's fine, I'm used to it, haha.

Some of my Sankta sisters are in that procession. We were running our business when we got called back, and then... we went through a whole bunch of stuff.

How should I put this...? Even if everything that happened was fake, and Landen Monastery hasn't actually been given important responsibilities by the Curia...

As long as I'm here, Laterano will once again remember the name of Landen Monastery!

These monsters might look strange, but they're hardly more of a challenge than the beasts of the great snowcapped mountains.

I've got enough arrows, and I've got a sharp eye. I'll help you hold them off!

But we're all tired out, kid. We've racked our brains and put in the effort, but all we can do is keep falling back.

We're not exactly settling any grudges here. We came back to Laterano just to suffer again.

It's almost time, Mostima. Still no news from that Lemuen lady?

If we can't disengage the defenses on the plate lock mechanism, we won't be able to blow through their armor plating, right?

Let's just call it here then.

If those guys reach the Basilica, then what happens? Everyone more or less becomes Sankta?

What's that got to do with us?

Look around you. We can't even cobble together a single halo. Our long-awaited reinforcements are just one Liberi nun.

We've got an entire city's worth of people against us. Why do we Alieni have to hold all of them off?

Come now, that's not the best attitude to have right now...

Because right now, we're the only ones who can.

We're always having to bust our asses doing things ordinary Sankta take for granted, right?

I had a little accident, as you can see. If I hadn't become a Legatus, I don't know what I'd be doing right now.

I said I was going to be doing Messenger stuff when I left the Holy City, but I was just wandering around, really.

Wandering to places without any Sankta, places where these black horns on my head don't stand out, places where silent empathy's the norm...

It was hard.

It took two whole years before I could look my friends in the eyes again without breaking out in a sweat.

Liberi, Fallen Angels, we're obsessed with assimilating or getting our old lives back. After putting in all that effort, why go with the hatchet job?

Well, how about that.

I never thought I'd hear those words coming out of your mouth, Mostima.

Promise me you'll forget you heard anything.

Forget what?

How did things go on your end?

Good news is, the bombs are in place.

Bad news is, I was afraid they wouldn't be enough to blow through all the lock mechanisms, so I shoved the rest of my grenades in there with them...

Which means I'm all out of grenades to shoot at these things.