Глава 12

Anything.

Anything to shatter all that lies before her, anything to make things right again.

Even just a little bit—

Even if it was just enough for her to turn around, to find a friend that she has not yet had the time to catch up with.

Even if...

Kyngasycath is heavy in her hands, almost immovable.

Nothing. There is nothing.

Your Royal Highness... are we not going?

You will take us away from here, yes?

Don't call me 'Your Highness'. I'm not anybody's Highness.

I'm just... no, never mind.

Stay at your post, Indra!

We break the walls now.

You'll leave Baird behind?! After we've already done so once?

I understand.

And I know she would not willingly part with us again.

Unless... she had no choice.

As we do not.

Why did we come back to Norport, then?!

Maybe coming back was more than just about coming back, the moment that we stepped foot on the soil of our home...

Let go of Hannah, Morgan. Have some faith in the Glasgow Gang.

We're no wimps.

Remember how we fought our battles when we were little?

Vina...

For the Glasgow Gang!

For the Glasgow Gang!

Bastards... wait for us, Baird...

For the Glasgow Gang!

The walls that block the escape of the people of Norport lie just before them, but there are no longer Sarkaz bows and guns on it.

Freedom is in sight. The oppressed raise their hands high and push forth.

Siege raises Kyngasycath high again. It is still just a piece of metal, not a single sheen to it.

She does not remember whether she swung it. Perhaps it is just the result of countless hands pushing at the same time. The wall falls.

Thank you for accepting my plea, Damazti.

It is not a difficult wish to grant.

Coincidentally, we just freed ourselves from some nastier things.

A classroom. You ended up inviting us here in the end.

A rational and reasonable decision, Golding. You always said you saw yourself as a teacher, after all.

I think, I shall die here today.

You're set on this.

Lettou will be sad.

I have to do it.

Why are you so hung up on this?

You're right, why am I?

I can't let go of the children, I worry that they can't find a place to belong in our current world. I can't let go of Molly either, she's a good girl, but she doesn't know how to protect herself.

And of course, there's Heidi... but I've let her down. I only hope she won't resent me.

Probably a difficult thing to do, seeing as I've caused the deaths of so many.

I deserve any resentment coming my way.

Golding, you know dying like this won't change anything.

Honestly, we're confused by your decision...

In our long-lived experience, it isn't rare to see one embrace death, but we're still puzzled by it.

We are well familiar with the words, 'sacrifice,' 'repellence,' 'guilt,' and perhaps even more.

The final outcome always leads to death.

Sorry, but this is such a futile act to us. Death holds little meaning and isn't worth such obsession.

Death is just death.

I know what you mean, Damazti. I understand what you're saying.

If I wished to make amends for the fallen Self-Salvation Corps fighters, perhaps the better choice would've been to live on, to care for the families left behind, to heal the suffering in their stead.

But, I know... I can't do that, I can't possibly face all that...

I'm so scared.

Is facing death easier than facing your fears?

Perhaps.

I've always run away from things... I thought I could keep living as long as I avoided getting caught by the tide.

But when does one finally stop running and admit that one's life has fallen apart?

When does one admit that one's old life never existed in the first place?

I can't bring myself to face all of this, so I'd rather choose to die before I completely succumb to my despair.

Let me lie to myself just this once, Damazti.

You've taken my form.

Don't get the wrong idea, Golding. We don't actually like our job that much. We won't deceive those precious to you.

We just... want to better understand your feelings.

It's a difficult emotion to understand, so we can only try to feel it firsthand.

You asked me before how to live a life.

How am I even supposed to come up with an answer?

Then again, now that I've realized my own powerlessness, choosing to give up could also count as a choice, right?

'Give up,' Lettou also said this before.

No, it's not about giving up on yourself and letting life wash over you.

It's to give up on the act of living.

Give up on living, you say.

All these experiences...whether they hold joy or pain, there isn't really a need to hold onto them so tightly, right?

In fact, you feel as though you're in the middle of a labyrinth, you realize the walls are in fact made of said experiences.

I wouldn't even call this a struggle, it truly is the coward's choice.

But at least... I won't stand by their side again, right?

I'm... just so tired of it all.

Goodnight, Golding.

*sigh*

I'm at my limit.

I really am... so tired.

Well, at the very least, the Glasgow Gang managed to reunite while I'm still here.

I hope they can all get away safely.

Baird staggers to a wall, and slowly sits herself down, drawing a long bloodstain behind her.

Her hand is already going numb. She tries to make a fist, but to no avail.

Hah.

Ugh... death sure hurts a lot more than I had imagined. Hurts more than when Hannah socked me in the jaw.

She turns her head and spots a corpse not far from her. Lean and emaciated, he seems to have died a few days ago.

It suddenly occurs to her how familiar the corpse's face is.

So this is where you ended up, Mr. 'Next Academician.'

A can of meat lay close to the timid citizen, its contents completely cleaned out without even a little bit remaining.

Baird blinks a few times at something strange by the poor man's side. From the wall to the floor is... a bunch of black curvy lines?

Words and diagrams.

Only now does Baird realize that he had picked up another pen to write with— a battered charcoal pencil, a tool far less respectable than his precious fountain pen.

She touches her own pocket. The fine fountain pen that had belonged to him is still with her. It's a shame McClaren never read the final words written by this gorgeous pen.

She manages to drag her body with some difficulty towards the writing on the wall, and carefully makes out the tiny handwriting.