act47side

There's a big, beautiful tree deep in the valley, right? What's the name... the Roosting Tree?

Yes. It's the Banshees' final resting place.

Everyone lives there, right? Even though you've never taken me there...

I want to live closer to that place. Can I?

And when will you teach me incantations? That way, I can move this bag of twigs myself.

No need to be so hurried.

When will you teach me how to play the bone whistle? That way, I could play in front of the others when we play together.

I took one from your house, but I couldn't make a sound with it.

No need to be so hurried, my dear girl.

The tired Banshee suddenly seems so unfamiliar to Nasti. She knows where Væla always starts when polishing her own feather horns, and how many nearly indistinguishable black dresses she has.

But she can never tell what Væla is thinking.

Nasti stops asking questions and raises the bone whistle, obstinately blowing on it in futility.

Until a soaring melody covers up the muffled sound she is making.

You want to play the whistle for the other children, don't you?

One does not need a bone whistle to accompany a smile.

Come, child. I'll teach you.

Nasti does not understand how that simple leaf in Væla's hands can make a sound, much less why that sound is so full of sorrow. The sky is blue, the waters of Mist Lake murmur on, and everything seems perfect.

Nasti follows Væla's gaze. The branches of the Roosting Tree are just barely visible in the distance, swaying like reeds—like fate.

Nasti is still in Rhine experiment area, and is preparing to kill Tannen?

Stay behind me, Miss Selene.

I run faster than Mr. Tannen, should we really get into a fight with a Banshee.

But that 'Nasti' was just a potted plant.

A water clone?

Muelsyse? Here?

Just a little gadget enchanted with Water Elf Arts. Doesn't actually do much.

A combination of Nasti's image, Muelsyse's inspiration, and home field advantage... no one could have predicted it. No wonder those three were scared away.

Should we evacuate with Mr. Tannen, then?

No. Keep going, following the traces left behind by the water.

According to the blueprints, we're almost at a dead end.

There's nothing except the water marks. Maybe that was indeed a bluff by Muelsyse.

Nasti is a genius engineer. It wouldn't be hard for her to leave a hidden space out of the blueprints. Besides, the presence of the water clone itself is a sign that there are potential secrets here.

I've been thinking. Why is Nasti the only one here, when there are two Rhine directors working on the project?

By all accounts, the Vivarium should fall within Muelsyse's domain, shouldn't it?

Unless... by its very nature, it's something only Nasti can do.

You mean...

If your potted plant suddenly died—sorry, purely hypothetical—would your first reaction be to keep checking the time on your watch over and over?

No. I would be more concerned about the cause of death than the time.

But that was what the most experienced researchers near Nasti did when the incident at the Vivarium occurred—check the time.

It was almost as though they expected the wilting to happen.

It just didn't happen at the expected time.

Therefore, Rhine's claim that they were studying plants that can survive at high altitude, based on data from the Galleria Stellaria...

It's a cover story.

I think Maylander has found Rhine's true secret.

Rhine doesn't need the plants in the Vivarium to live. It needs them to die.

Not the life that an Elf celebrates, but the death that a Banshee knows well.

But why?

Death will 'water'—

A 'tree' that is even more special.

The elderly Banshee stands in the shadow at the end of the street. She has waited a long time. The night is longer than the three centuries that she has lived.

She watches as the familiar figure approaches...

It is taller and sturdier than she remembers.

The facial features look different. The clothes are of an unfamiliar style.

Not so familiar anymore.

Væla's head begins to ache. Her chaotic memories are like Mist Lake in deep winter, the cold and heavy mist swallowing her in an instant.

Na...

(In Sarkaz) Separate.

(In Sarkaz) Guide.

Nasti places the fragments of the bone pen in the center of her palm, and recites the language of the Banshees.

The incantation separates the scent that does not belong to her, but is very familiar, and leads her to its source.

There is no wind, but the bone pen begins to sway... all will be answered, soon.

Then—

Na... sti... careful...

What's the situation over there?

There's... someone else...

*pant*... *pant*...

M-Mr. Tannen... stop...

I think we're lost.

I think we're lost too. I can't believe how much space Rhine has beneath the experiment area. This has got to be against the rules...

Usually, when scientists leave so much space in their labs, they're either saving it for a big plan... or it's from a big plan that's already gone off the rails.

S-Sir, is it just me, or is the ground...?

The ground's cracking...

...Looks like it's the former.

S-Somebody help...

When did the door behind us close?

Dammit, please tell me it's not a giant missile, Nasti.

The concrete beneath their feet shatters, as though it were made from crackers.

Gordon Tannen tries to hook the pillars with his tail, grab the walls with his hands, but all he finds is... a single twig, glowing dimly.

Beneath him, a canopy made from metal and withered wood expands in the darkness.

The glowing tree rises up silently into the night sky, as if a thousand stars are rushing upwards.

This thing...

Does it have a propeller? An engine?

There isn't any sound of machinery... how could it possibly fly?

Nasti, Rhine Lab... I'll be completely damned.

Shit, why do these guards feel the need to shine lights into the sky just because some humongous thing is taking off in the middle of the night? Who the hell trained them—oh, right, it was me. Great.

Would you say we're... exposed, sir?

I would say we are, given that everyone who's awake in Propeller Paradise right now is seeing us hanging off a tree with two big boxes of contraband.

You think there's a chance if I yelled that I found some dangerous Rhine experiments to the people below?

...No, no, no. Not a finkin' chance. I can't let this thing get ruined, until I figure out how on Terra it could fly.

Okay, it really is over now.

Wh-What just happened?

I think our intrusion might have awakened something...

But now, there are no secrets on Propeller Paradise anymore.

Is this another miracle, Director Lunorey? Or is it...?

A stillborn miracle?

No need to say anything. I can see it all from here.

...I'll head back right away.

Na...

A moment of hesitation, and the elderly Banshee fails to say the name.

Væla watches as the young Banshee departs. She looks in her direction, and sees a huge, glowing tree, slowly rising into the sky.

The roots of the tree are not secure, swaying in the night breeze. At this distance, they sway like weeds, like fate.