Глава 13

Death extends its tendrils towards you.

You clench your fist.

Get... away... from... Doctor!

Oh? Still mustering the power of the King of Sarkaz, even when surrounded by Confessarius witchcraft? I'm starting to miss Liz.

Well, this is a benefit to our experiments. I'll spare the Doctor's life, for now, and teach you to leverage your emotions.

But I must make sure you behave before handing you over to the leader.

Great Damazti, that nasty woman is coming. May I count on you to deal with the rest?

Very well.

Maybe she will temper us.

You see Ascalon sprinting towards you.

Countless Confessarius guards stand in her way. They fall without a sound, then the figures of countless Damazti once again bury her.

The Confessarius with blue hair lifts Amiya in her arms. The hull structure around you shatters, a staircase of earth and stone rises, and the wall of the canyon outside opens its gaping maw.

You have seen Arts like this before. But she is no Gargoyle.

Doctor...

Amiya!

Wherever they walk, the stone bridge trembles and shatters, and the cracks on the rock wall heal.

Ascalon tries to free herself from the Damazti tide, but the expressionless fragments seem endless.

Doctor! Stay where you are!

The most important thing is—

The Confessarius and Amiya grow distant.

You have heard it many times from many people. You are not built for fighting, so weak you could not even complete the beginner course for trainee operators.

Kal'tsit wanted you to stay in the rear, giving orders in safety.

But Kal'tsit, equally thin and frail, stood before Theresis. You can still see the gaping wound when you close your eyes.

You should wait where you are. Ascalon needs time. You can work on a rescue plan once the battle has concluded.

A commander should learn to recognize when the situation is untenable.

But...

Your ears ring.

Amiya is your partner, your family.

Your sense and sensibility, your past and memories all cry out.

The smiles, the tears, the hard times... the brief joy.

The hull breach is right beside you.

The stone staircase is starting to fall apart.

You put a numb foot forward.

Let her go—;Let Amiya go!

You leap before the bridge shatters completely.

Huff, huff, huff...

You run like you never have before, as the ground falls out from beneath where you just tread.

Your view is obscured by the white vapors that you exhale.

Your whole body trembles. You have never so lamented the frailness of your physique.

It is not far. You can catch them. You can—

There is no time to think. The hole is within reach, but the ever-shifting rock wall could close upon it at any time.

A few steps further.

You muster all the speed you have.

The next instant, you find yourself falling in infinite darkness.

How much time has passed?

With your portable light, you see that countless hands have emerged from the ground, pulling at the passage, sewing it shut.

The space continues to contract, pressing on you.

You do not know how far you must go, but you must not stop.

Down, down, down.

Huff, huff, huff...

Your lungs sting. A light in the distance is your only hope.

Escaping the contracting hole, you find yourself hanging from an upside-down statue. From its eyes seep water falling from above, gleaming an eerie red in the light of magma.

Where is this place? What are these statues?

You recognize the statues as Djall.

The Gargoyle shoulders the roof of the cave, feet burning in the magma.

The Banshee curls up in the wilted thorns, bone whistle in hand.

The Wendigo tries to tear the rock wall apart with twisted hands, frightful visage roaring beneath a mask.

The withered Vampire extends a hand from the lava.

A creature of unknown race holds its head in its hands, stone columns running through its eyes.

They look like they could come alive at any time.;Statues of the Sarkaz races?

You're tough, 'Doctor'. I respect that.

You feel a heavy blow, and a pair of baleful eyes.

Awake?

How did you follow me with that feeble constitution of yours? I examined your body, but found nothing.

Well... not exactly nothing.

Your structure is... unusual. Different from all the samples I've seen. I would very much like to study you.

In great detail. Unfortunately, this place has been abandoned a long time, and the equipment is far from adequate. It would not do to damage such a precious sample.

Perhaps I could bring you back to Londinium. But Theresis seems to pay particular attention to you...

Amiya...

You look towards Amiya. Her consciousness seems hazy. Black Arts seep out from her, then fade into thin air the next instant.

Her brow twitches in pain. She is not in good shape.

You have rarely seen this expression on the brave child's face, ever since you met in Chernobog.

Look, 'Doctor'. What is she looking at?

She's trembling.

What did you do to her?

'The King of Sarkaz grants the promised land.' The little bunny simply got a taste of her own power.

We don't need to be crossing swords. You want knowledge? Rhodes Island has it.;What do you want? We can talk about it.;Stop, or I'll drown you in lava.

Laughable attempt at flattery.

Meaningless negotiation.

A trembling threat.

Painfully amusing, the way you hopelessly grasp at straws.

No operators at your side. Nothing for you to command. Even the King of Sarkaz whom you served is leaving you.

What can you do?

She draws closer.

You tighten the hand hidden behind your back.

All you have is a sharp rock that you happened to pick up in the chaos.

Your reason tells you that it is useless. Perhaps you would have had a speck of hope if you were Blaze, Ascalon, or even Popukar...

You feel regret, but even stronger is your determination.

The pain in your hand keeps you conscious.

Patience. Wait for her to draw closer...

I've asked the leader many times: why does power so often end up in the hands of the ordinary?

What have these forgotten Kings of Sarkaz given us, besides a life of exile and persecution?

Will you, 'Doctor', be one of the causes of another round of suffering?

You have questions, but this is not the time or place to answer them.;Remove the spell on Amiya, and I'll do my best to answer.;I have the same questions, but hurting Amiya is not the answer.

I appreciate your intelligence, but there has never been a shortage of smart people.

There is nothing that can compare to this opportunity, what we have pursued for thousands of years.

If she can force the crown upon the head of this little bunny—

Then it can be forced out.

You want to steal Amiya's crown!

Steal? No, this crown is not a ring lying on the battlefield for the taking.