act42side

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.

All of these anomalies converge at this Shrine of Nurtury, which seems to have appeared out of nowhere, and the Nativity that so many have fixed their eyes on.

The missing mother you were investigating from the nomadic abbey was the pregnant arborbeast?

Yes.

By chance, my music crossed paths with the voice of her heart. I followed the trail here.

The singular item that brought me to my conclusion, of greater weight than any of the above, is how the Lateran people are seemingly oblivious to all of this.

Everything in life has been turned upside-down, but in this country, this city, life goes on, orderly as ever, as though things have always been so.

When six million Laterans continue to live as they always have, it's hard for us to convince ourselves that we're the only sane ones.

Self-doubt is an invaluable experience for a hardhead like you, isn't it?

Are you certain now?

Yes.

Mathematics, physics, geography, archaeology, astronomy... no theory or knowledge in science, theology, or philosophy can explain this.

A city with a population of six million, sharing the same hallucination.

But the present circumstances clearly run contrary to the order of Laterano and the foundation of the Law.

I have no doubt.

What a coincidence. Neither do I—

The sound of comfort bells echoes in the sky above the city. The cello's music draws upon a crack, like a hand reaching into the city. The next instant, both sounds are brought to an abrupt halt.

Silence.

The crowds that come and go in front of the square have never existed. Laterano has never been so quiet, even when the city is gazed upon from the highest roof of the Basilica.

Federico and Arturia are unsure if they blinked. A scene most incomprehensible plays out before their eyes—

The shrine continues to tower over the city, utterly out of place, but now dream-like colors begin to run across its surface.

Almost reaching the clouds, it spills its colors upon the pristine white buildings surrounding it.

Doors and windows open to the streets and alleys of Laterano, wherever the shrine's shadow touches, and creatures the likes of which have never been seen before emerge from them...

The scene is indescribable, but there is no doubt in Federico or Arturia that this is the real Laterano.

The next instant, the same word slips from their mouths.

Calamity.

...There you are, Federico.

Your Holiness.

Did you see the new products on the tea table?

'Yvangelista XI Ice Cream Cake Tower'. Eleven scoops of ice cream, eleven flavors of cactus, the eleventh cake named after a pope...

I am a trained executor. I cannot say the same for my ability to evaluate desserts.

Just a token of gratitude, for not forgetting an old man on the brink of death as you withdrew.

Of course, I plan to promote it throughout the city, in the hopes that the people may rediscover the taste of life, sooner rather than later.

Considering the flavor, I suspect it may cause even more controversy.

It is true, however, that the citizens of Laterano are in dire need of a return to orderly life.

Suicides and crime rates have soared in the past three months.

Small-scale disturbances to large-scale exodus... there are more than a thousand cases in the Notarial Hall's records. The rebuilding of the city has only just begun.

The calamity has revealed too much and changed too much.

The Law was a cold machine. Our saint was a loathsome abomination. All of us share the same roots as the devils...

Any one of these truths is enough to destroy an individual's faith.

This rebuilding will be a tremendous undertaking.

Reconstruction of the damaged plates on which the Third and Fourth Tribunals are located has just begun. Efforts are underway to revitalize the economy.

Laterano has not been so busy in a long time. I hope that the busy times will provide a way for the people to repair the cracks in their hearts.

Speaking of which... what is your outlook on all this, Federico?

Sankta, Laterano, faith, empathy, communication, and our society... the many important decisions that the Holy City has made overs its millennia-long history, and even your canonization...

It was all the result of Him—a machine. The spiritual light has always been cold.

Your innate lack of empathy has bestowed upon you an outlook of extreme logic. Perhaps He chose you because you were the one who could understand the logic of His simulation the best.

I caught fragments of your conversation with Him.

Even after decades of talking to Him, I must admit... you were more suited to the task.

If I wasn't intimately familiar with the way you talk, I wouldn't have been able to tell who said what.

If the Law is a machine, a system, then the most effective method of communication is to think on His terms, with His language and His logic.

But you arrived at the opposite conclusion from Him.