weedy

The old man finally moves away from the mountain of papers, taking the tiny component from Weedy.

Weedy sees his expression—disbelief, realization, shock, scorn, pain, sorrow... A thousand emotions fill the face that was blank a moment ago.

'Disaster-bringing research'... 'corrupter of hearts'... 'beacon for the tides'...

So the Inquisition never destroyed the thing they called disaster-bringing research... They wanted me to see it—no, for <i>you</i> to see it again...

What are they thinking?!

Are you alright?

I...

Are you still unwilling to talk, Señor?

What?

I don't care what the Inquisition intends. Temptation, scrutiny, control—Iberians have long been used to such things...

What I care about is you, Señor.

I don't think you're just an emotionless puppet. From the moment you stepped into this lab, I'd been waiting...

Waiting to truly meet you again.

Señorita...

Don't worry, Leaf has already confirmed that there's no one else here.

I—I'm here to send you away from Iberia.

The old man grabs Weedy's sleeve and gazes straight into her eyes. His eyes are sharp and strong, as though he's become a different person.

You should not have come back.

We were fortunate to have connections in the Inquisition, which allowed Señor Penia to get advanced warning. He leveraged all the connections he had to get you out of Iberia...

With dignity.

Yeah.

I'd wanted to leave Iberia and see what was outside. I remember it being a smooth process, but the Inquisitor who processed my documents said it would be hard to come back once I left.

None of that matters anymore.

Do not believe the finshit the Inquisitors tell you... 'That era is in the past'?

No, it's not. Even if land and sea have joined hands again, even if your company is in a position to do business in Iberia.

The Inquisition, their arrogance and tyranny, their cruelty and hypocrisy... None of it has changed.

Look at all these scrolls and records, this component that should have been destroyed...

I have no doubt now. Once you finish your business with Rhodes Island, they will demand that you forget everything that's happened, and that you restart the bionics research.

As though—*cough *cough*—as though the crimes they committed, the shame and despair we felt, as though none of that ever existed!

Please, calm down. Are you alright?

That's why, when that desgraciado told me you'd returned and ordered me to assist you, I knew I must send you away again!

The old man ignores Weedy's words and keeps talking.

All the years I've spent on my knees have broken them, Señorita, but I've gotten a few things out of this...

Before I came, I spent my last savings to get my hands on some forged official letters that will get you past the checkpoints, and buttered up the powers that be...

You will leave Iberia tonight.

What about you?

You can't fool the Inquisition. It won't be long until they find out.

None of it matters, as long as you're away from this country.

But the Inquisition will have your head!

No, Señorita Weedy—I will have THEIR heads.

Bart, Dimar...

Dorren, Castro, Liam...

Clara... oh, dear Clara...

And your grandfather, Señor Penia... The lab is no more. Our science is no more. All that's left is a reputation in tatters...

And an old man by the name of Callisto who yet lives, guarding these ruins.

I've been waiting for a chance!

You mean, me?

I'll send you away, and wait for the alguacil and the Inquisitors to come here and draw their swords at me in anger, just like they once did!

Then—*cough* then...

I will spit my blood on the faces of those malditos one last time!

The old man screams until his voice is rasp, but he continues to clutch the component in its hand. Its sharp edges pierce his palms, which have become red with blood.

But the man continues to rage, as though it is the only emotion his feeble body can house.

As though this emotion has kept him alive all these years.

Promise me, Señorita!

I promise, Señor Callisto.

I'll go.

And once you're gone, never return again.

Get on, Señorita. I must get back to the lab. The Inquisition will be there any moment...

Alright... Leaf!

Pack up Señor Callisto and put him in the trunk... carefully.

L-Let me go—what is the meaning of this?

The money and the letters are right next to you. I've talked to the coachman, who will take a little detour, where you'll be met by a colleague of mine...

A Liberi with a bright smile and a joking attitude, with a red streak in his white hair.

He'll send you back to your old home... the town of Luarca you used to tell me about, on the fringes of the Salt Flat, where people dance around a bonfire at night.

You can't do this! You promised me at the lab!

...Sorry, I lied.

If I didn't, you'd have gone and found an Inquisitor to fight to the death, wouldn't you?

I'm an operator of Rhodes Island. Our continued existence depends on this handover. I must remain in Iberia to complete my mission.

Whatever the Inquisition meant by 'vetting', I'll find out myself.

Señorita—Weedy—girl! My body is like a piece of withered wood! I don't have many years left! Just let me fulfill this last wish...

Exactly! You don't have many years left.

Don't you realize, Señor? It's not just the Inquisition that's imprisoned you. It's also you yourself.

I still remember hearing you talk about why you joined the lab—the way you imagined massive bionic fins that would let us freely sail the seas...

But now, your memories contain only pain and hatred.

I want you to go home, even if you only have the time to taste the briny winds of the Salt Flat, to watch the saltfins leap from the salt...

To talk to the young people dancing around the fire...

To sleep soundly on a rocking chair...

I want you to live your last days in peace.

Let this vehicle bring the story of Penia Lab and everything my grandfather directed to a close, whether it's the sin the Inquisition claims it was, or the miscarriage of justice you believe it to be.

You'll just let it go? Just like that?

Say goodbye to Señor Callisto, Leaf.

The bionic seadragon sways in front of the old man as though it is dancing.

This is...

Could this be... a bionic seadragon...

Mhm.

It pales in comparison to what your team once achieved, but Leaf is indeed a product of bionic technology.

Science does not end because someone rejects it, nor does it depend on being recognized to continue.

This is my way, and how I'll talk to them.

Adios, Señor.

Weedy takes a couple of steps back and pats the vehicle.

—Now go, Coachman.

The old man says no more. Leaning against the interior of the vehicle, he gazes out the window at Weedy and the land behind her, until it all grows distant and blurred.

He gazes blankly, as though he has never known the girl, delicate yet strong; as though he has never known this land, never known... himself.

Let's go, Leaf.

We have a lot to do.

Doña Irene.

Yes?

Señorita Weedy has made a last-minute demand...

She wants the Inquisition to promise not to pursue the case of Señor Callisto?

Yes.