rogue_2

After consuming the remaining energy in his body, Mizuki's core heart analog finally stops beating.

Death arrives swiftly, silently.

His body begins to contract, the once-outstretched appendages crushed into a ball by the pressure of the water.

He continues shrinking, regressing.

Until he is reduced to a single, miniscule cell, drifting along the currents of the deep sea.

He lands upon a single, withered branch.

It is the dead titan of the abyss, the progenitor of the Seaborn, the 'Creeping Branch.' Like Mizuki, His consciousness has long perished, and His enormous form continues to grow only out of instinct.

No longer does He remember the meaning of new life, and even if new branches grow, they are already withered and dead. But nevertheless, this rotting giant continues to provide countless Seaborn with a bite of all-important sustenance.

Even at this moment, He is being fed upon by countless young Seaborn.

One of these newborns sees Mizuki's cell and wriggles its tail fin, trying to swallow its kin's gift.

But before its mouth appendage can touch its meal, a segment of the dead branch engulfs Mizuki, layer upon layer.

The young Seaborn swims away. There is too much food here, and too many options. There is no need to compete with the venerable deceased for nourishment.

And thus, Mizuki's journey comes to an end.

Years later, upon a withered branch,

Dark, blue leaves begin to grow.

Time has erased people's fear of the ocean. With the departure of the Seaborn, Ægir has once again become proud and insular, and the countries on land have once again returned to their old ways of suspicion and conflict. The Seaborn are not the only peril they face upon this great land. Humanity must still deal with Originium, Catastrophes, and a great many tribulations yet to be known.

Rhodes Island still continues to travel the land's four corners, developing medication to suppress Oripathy on one hand, exploring the options for humanity's peaceful coexistence on the other.

As the leader of Rhodes Island, the Doctor carries an immense burden.

However, on a special day each year, the Doctor takes a vehicle away from Rhodes Island, arriving at Iberia escorted by Tulip. They then arrive at the coast and stand alone at the beach, never leaving until the sun rises the next day. Year after year, this never-ending work continues.

When night falls, the ocean's surface glimmers with a deep, cerulean fluorescence.

The Doctor steps into the waves, leaving shimmering footprints behind in the sand.

To some observers, they are simply wasting valuable time.

The day could clearly have been better spent trying to crack the usual dilemmas, leading field operations, or helping the various Rhodes Island offices across the land solve their many complicated problems.

Why spend it looking out across the beach, or wandering around aimlessly?

But from the Doctor's own self-awareness, these simple actions have immense ritualistic importance, while also serving the purpose of self-readjustment.

Many people see the Doctor as an omnipotent 'demigod,' or a superhuman bordering on machine. They are wrong.

The Doctor is human after all. Not an ordinary human, but a human nevertheless.

One who has endured too much pain to share, and too much grief to pour out.

The land is unable to accommodate these emotions, but the sea can.

Whatever you choose to confide, the sea will answer.

'Splash.' 'Splash.'

Since when did the ocean become so gentle? The Doctor does not wish to utter the answer that wells up from within.

An operator had soothed the tides, but never returned to the team.

The only memory he left behind was the fluorescent, cerulean tide that appears once every year.

And so, the Doctor returns here every year.

To be alone, to meditate, to confide.

Humanity's thought-filled rhetoric, and nature's never-ending echoes...

They are all full of meaning.

One calls, the other replies. Time and again.

Through this miniscule behavior, an iota of solace can take root in the bottom of one's heart.

It is insufficient to fill any holes within that heart, but it is enough to induce one to repeat that behavior.

Will Mizuki hear?

Yes, he will.

The Doctor believes this, and thus lets everything out.

As they walk across the sand, the waves gently reach out past their ankles. The water tugs at their boots like tendrils, before receding with the tide.

The cerulean fluorescence dots the Doctor's moistened boots.

Shimmering, shining.

Ishar'mla is defeated.

He calmly accepts the punishment of we many, but cannot understand how He, who was born to fight, lost to mass of dead branches walking.

Regardless, after that battle, His path will no longer be the trajectory explored by we many. Since He is no longer needed, He will also seal Himself away and enter a deep slumber, allowing the consciousness named Skadi to resurface once more.

Skadi dreamt a dream.

In the dream, she raised the tides and stepped across the land, trying to search for something in the realm above. But just as soon as she was ready to set off, the dream abruptly ended.

After she awakens, her memories fade along with the dream. She tries hard to cling to something, but her brain is flooded with things sent by we many.

That is not what she wants.

She does not belong here.

Skadi herself does not understand why she would generate these kinds of thoughts about her kin. They were always so kind, even willing to give their lives for her if necessary.

There is no fanaticism or manipulation behind their actions. Only equality, only altruism.

But between continuing to swim alongside we many or casting them aside, Skadi still chooses the latter.

A kind of disgust emerges from the depths of her heart. Even in the face of death, she does not wish to be among the Seaborn.

As for why, she does not know.

How could a Seaborn come to hate her own kin?

Skadi cannot answer.

The land... The land...

Her subconscious leads her to swim towards the land.

Someone she wishes to see is there.

Why would a Seaborn want to see a human?

Skadi does not understand.

Her consciousness conflicts with a Seaborn's instincts on every level, so much so that her own actions are incoherent.

But eventually, she makes her way to the shore and surfaces, her eyes scanning the empty, endless beach.

The silhouette of a hooded human appears in her vision.

She feels elation and begins to involuntarily recall that human's face. Then, fragments of the two of them deepening their relationship. Then further behind that, the Abyssal Hunters. Ægir. The ocean––

Memories rush back into her mind like a flood, shattering her soul.

Father, mother, brothers and sisters.

Ulpianus, Laurentina, Gladiia.

Past, present, future.

Skadi recalls everything.

Skadi lost everything.

A monster that does not belong among humans, a human who does not belong among Seaborn.

Hiding within the tides, timidly looking at this symbol of beauty.

She wishes to show herself, but is afraid to do so.

Even if the Doctor forgives her, she can never forgive herself.

All she can do is gaze from a distance, ever so slightly filling the void in her heart, before she once again drowns beneath an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Living has become so burdensome, yet death is so far away.

She has become an empty abstraction.

A ballad wells up in Skadi's throat.

She has sung it thousands of times already, each syllable and vocalization long perfected.

But now, it sounds like glass shattering against the ground.

Shattering into thousands of little fragments that can never be put back together again.

Yet she continues to sing, and sing.

Singing is the only instinct she has left.

The song can neither atone for her sins nor soothe her grief.

But she still continues to sing, tears streaming down her face.

Her trembling heart takes away the pitch of her voice.

Tears fall upon the tip of her tongue, the bitterness seeping into her bosom.

Her throat gradually becomes red and swollen, her song periodically interrupted by sobbing.

Yet she still continues to sing, and sing.

She does not need an audience, nor does she expect one.

If singing is the only purpose left in her existence.

Then sing she will.

The Doctor standing along the coast seems to have heard something and turns to look at the ocean.