rogue_3

Arges sits in the darkness away from the campfire, meditating alone.

To be more precise, she is just thinking. The Cyclops had not entered a meditative state for a long time. It had been replaced by real dreams and nightmares, as well as the pain caused by her gradually worsening Oripathy.

She has already accompanied Magallan into the icefields on several occasions, while also reaching out to encourage anyone and everyone to explore the icefields in search of information. Of course, she no longer saw the possibility in the Columbians she had once seen, and thus needed to seek out new possibilities to see a different outcome at the end of the icefields.

However, she never saw the ring at the end of the icefield light up again.

Contact with the outside world only brought her a clearer perception of the passage of time.

The flourishing and withering of nature, and the fate of birth and old age, sickness and death, were no longer merely drops of water falling on a rock wall.

What should she do to transplant the lifeline guided by fate? She is willing to do whatever it takes, but how?

Arges lifts her head and takes a deep breath.

For some inexplicable reason, she thinks that a certain tragedy she had foreseen is due to happen now.

So she watches the dark shadows cast over the campfire where the explorers are sitting.

She does not raise her voice to warn them, instead she simply gets up and leaves quietly.