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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?

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!