cello

Mm... All I can say is, you're right.

You gave a much more reasonable answer than I expected. It would appear that what transpired in Leithanien was much more extreme than what was officially documented in our intel.

And... what if I refuse to become a Saint?

Or, is this the 'atonement' that you've arranged for me, and I don't have the right to refuse?

Child, the choice is still yours to make.

I am simply conveying the warning I've received to a fellow citizen of Laterano.

You, who stands atop all the Operae, would turn to a sinner?

But, as you know, the Pope has ways of cleverly manipulating the words of a revelation, for example, by changing the name of the Saint.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to threaten you. Federico will see the case through regardless.

If you really think that, then why––

––But, when the sun sets, your thoughts and beliefs may prove to be a potent medicine.

The 'Saint' is a sign that the Sankta are in peril. All I can do is tinker around the edges.

Furthermore, the tragedy that you caused was also your own tragedy.

Sankta, Laterano, faith, empathy, communication, and our society. These things comprise your story. They comprise you.

Is there any Pope who would turn a blind eye to all this?

So, after deep reflection, I decided to personally see you to the end, young Saint. Until your duty is done.

I will lead all of you to the future you deserve.

What is that end?

Don't know. Prophecy isn't part of the job.

Having that said... going off of recent developments, the future you deserve is far from bright.

It seems like this decision has been a heavy burden on your shoulders.

The situation might just be bad enough to necessitate the gamble.

How does that sound to you, Arturia?

Well...

Would you consider... becoming an audience for a Saint?

I'm not particularly well-versed in music, but... Actually, wait a minute...

I've been standing for too long. Why don't we head to Rhodes Island's cozy reception area for a bit?

You can listen while we walk.

Fine, fine. Hup.

Please begin, then. I'd like to hear something distinctly 'Lateran.'

Through the window, the daylight's tail end stubbornly leaves its outline in the sky, the dusk shimmering brilliantly.

For no particular reason, she thinks of the sunsets in Zwillingstürme, and the clouds above many cities she has seen.

The sky is getting dark, and a slight shaking comes from underfoot, indicating that the landship is about to sail into the night.

The bridge lights come on.

Now then...

A melody begins to flow.