rogue_2

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.