Глава 9

This... is our last chance!

Leader!!!

There is no other way. She knows this.

All the words she would use to argue are stuck in her throat. It feels as though her eyes are about to pop.

She is going to abandon her leader—her one and only remaining friend.

She is a Victorian soldier.

In combat, she has never once disobeyed the orders of the one whom she trusts the most.

Your bloody cheap tricks...!

Fine, just one of them slipping off won't change a thing.

And the one that's left here...

Heh, you can barely stand. Not going down easy, are we?!

—Let's get it over with. I'm sick of this place.

That's everyone, Uncle Oliver.

I've talked to the locals already. They've found us a way out of the city that's safe enough.

There are still a lot of hostiles around... Dublinn, that is.

The residents all believe what they say, that with the villains defeated, they won't harass the civilians anymore.

But we need to stay vigilant.

No matter the face they wear, I will never forget who got our good friend—our respected coworker killed.

Right, give me another blanket to keep the injured girl wrapped, please.

We can't let anyone see her until we make it to the nearest safehouse.

We have a long road ahead of us. I'm sure she would wish us a safe journey.

Look, Uncle Oliver...

It truly is daybreak now.

'Bagpipe, I told you to shy at no cost—'

'What I mean by that is that you must make it out yourself, even if the rest of us die here.'

'Don't look back.'

'Bagpipe, I know you can do this. Only you can do this.'

The piledriver spear tears through the skies over the remnants of the city, and bores into a swath of barren land.

Bagpipe tumbles a few times before standing up.

Then, she plucks her weapon from the ground and grips it in her hand—

She cannot look back.

That's an order.

She takes a deep breath, suppresses all the emotions welling up in her heart, and steps toward the ends of the barren plains.

Straight ahead, the real sun is beginning to rise.

'No matter what happens in our world, the sun will never fail to rise.'

'Even if it is slow to rise, many will yet make their way forward, casting rays of hope with their lives one after another.'

Midnight \ Rainy

County Hillock, Unknown alleyway

Finally. You kept me waiting.

...Sankta.

You are alone. What of the one you rescued? Where is she?

Not something you oughta worry your pretty little head about.

Listen. I know the formidable foe you are. How did she find you, and how did she convince you to protect her? Could she have reached an agreement with Laterano behind our backs?

No, that can't be. They said there was a Victorian soldier working with you.

So she chose to seek Victoria's protection? In that case, who sent you—Which duke?

You sure you wanna waste your time thinking on something as pointless as that?

My comrades are indeed in quite a hurry, but I suggested talking to you nonetheless.

Whatever your employers promised, we can offer you much more. Wealth, power, titles—

Aha, I'm afraid you couldn't give me what it is I need.

Dublinn's power likely far exceeds your expectations—

Please do tell. What is it?

Justice ain't gonna dispense itself, what do you think my gun's for?

So you mean to say... you are determined to stand in our way?

Now there's a question worth asking. Should've started with that one.

How regrettable, my lady. This is truly regrettable.

—It's time.

Five other silhouettes emerge from the shadows.

'The Accountant,' 'The Convict,' 'The Immolator,' 'The Toxicologist,' 'The Bandit'—And you, 'The Elocutionist.'

Mighty familiar names.

Far from the first time we've met—

You, 'The Accountant.' You've meticulously worked out the profit this war'll reap you, and you're racking your brains to turn even more lives into bigger numbers, deeper black on your balance sheet.

You, 'The Convict.' You escape from prison again and again only to commit greater crimes, get yourself sent back to prison to repeat the cycle again.

You, 'The Immolator.' Burning single houses and families hasn't given you what you need for a long while. Soon, not even burning a whole city will fill the hole in your heart.

You, 'The Toxicologist.' You call yourself a scholar, but fancy titles don't hide the truth, that you're all caught up in heartless slaughter and one nasty scheme after another—

—And your next betrayal will take a few cities to hell with you.

You, 'The Bandit.' Living up to that name, you're thirsty to snatch anything you can from the hands of others, and not just money, either.

You steal their dignity, and your lust for it will bring whole countries to ruin.

And then there's you, 'The Elocutionist.' You're really into those five dollar words, trying your hardest to turn fancy talk into a political weapon, the kind to spark wars greater and uglier.

If I let any of you through, that girl will die, and all that evil I just talked about gets to carry on, free and clear.

So—

She pops her last bullet into her revolver's cylinder.

It's about time for you to stand trial, for the last time.

This is your so-called faith?

You got the wrong idea. My faith ain't exactly the kind you're thinking of—

If I believe in anything, it's my gun.

There is only one of you, and there are six of us.

I got enough ammo. Don't worry, nobody's missing out.

You will die here.

Lucky I won't do it alone.

'Outcast, I understand everything you said.'

'You've walked a great many roads. You've never looked back. You judge people with gunfire, but you know in your heart that the very last one awaiting judgment at the end of the road... is you.'

'I don't want you to get there—I don't want any one of you to get there.'

'Fate is there to be shattered. You may be happy with this ending yourself, but I want to try to change it.'

'Right. Even if the days gone by showed me my failure time and again, even if all of you left me one by one, I don't want to, and I can't accept this.'

'Outcast, give me this chance.'

'Come back alive.'

Aha, old friend... In the end, it looks like I'm not gonna be able to follow that order.

Six bullets shoot out of her revolver at once.

At the same time, six enemies are charging toward her—

One of them is trying to hack away at her with his axe. Another is trying to spray a toxic gas at her. A third is trying to deflect her bullets with his Arts, while a fourth is trying to take the chance to dash past her, toward the other end of the alleyway.

But their actions will forever be frozen at the very moment they began.

Before any of them can cry out in surprise or fall to the ground, they have turned to dust in a holy light.

The moment she fired her gun, their judgment was already complete.

The brilliant gunfire surges fiercely into the sky, illuminating almost the entire city.

Outcast stands still, allowing the impartial flames to engulf her. Starting at her fingertips, they reduce her to ashes.

<color=#000000><i>'This road,</i></color>

<color=#000000><i>it was always meant to end like this.'</i></color>