level_act17side_st03

Irene.

Yes, maestro... I mean, sir!

You seem distracted.

I... I'm fine.

Gran Faro is a tiny town, so small that most maps don't even bother to list it.

But this is a request from Lord Carmen himself, and it involves Dr. Kal'tsit and those Ægir.

I know, sir. I—

If you still haven't found your answer, I will not give you permission to join the mission.

I'd already made up my mind when I first decided to follow in your footsteps and become an Inquisitor.

Yes, before you even knew the question. An answer is worthless if it cannot explain what you see and hear.

Don't die a worthless death, Irene. You know what we're fighting against. And you must find your own answer.

I—

...Yes, sir.

Lady Kal'tsit.

Gladiia's tone does not change, but her footsteps reflect her mood.

A blink of the eye, and she is by Kal'tsit's side.

Good work, Gladiia.

The Inquisition didn't do anything to you, did they?

The fact that Iberia has not yet sunk into the sea is proof that they still retain a shred of humility and vigilance.

You found a way, as promised.

Yes. However...

Even if Iberia is willing to let go of their fears, what about Ægir?

What about you?

If this temporary cooperation is necessary to help us return to the ocean... so be it.

Finally, an Ægir with some sense, right? Like the waves themselves, like the rays and texture of the sea.

Hello there, special Ægir. I believe you've already met our other members?

Yes. You're also a member of AUS?

Alty, bassist. Nice to meet you.

How are things outside?

The cultists are out in force, but individually they're rather weak.

My Hunters can take care of everything.

The Inquisition will only work with us once we've taken care of the problems in Gran Faro.

Then there's no time to waste.

Gladiia raises her lance.

At the same time, she senses that something is not right.

There, among the Sea Terrors... but how could it be...?

Kal'tsit here.

Dr. Kal'tsit! Their goal is—

...Elysium?

What's the matter?

One of our operators is in trouble.

Something lurks here.

As we discussed, Alty, the members of AUS can stay ashore.

We'll handle this as quickly as possible.

Sure, we can wait.

And we'll be happy to provide some BGM for your campaign.

...Too weak.

They keep coming. Buying time?

Or spreading... something.

I must find the leader.

—Gkh—!

Specter.

...Hm?

Ah... Skadi. Long time no see.

Something the matter?

...Are you alright?

I'm fine, just a little tired.

Yes... We're fighting, right? The scent of the ocean... reminds me of home.

But, home? My home... huh...

Gkh—!

The sea.

The scent of the sea grows stronger. Are we home, Skadi? Is this the way home?

...It will be, Specter. Laurentina. I promise.

Tell me then... what's that before my eyes?

What?

A figure strides down the street, humming a tune.

The streets are a mess in the aftermath of the panicking townsfolk, but it hardly bothers Frost as she plucks at the air and imagines music.

Hmph!

(Slithering sounds)

The Sea Terrors keep away from her. No, they ignore her. Is she... playing an instrument?

Does it sound nice?

I don't know.

Then ask.

Wait!

*pant*... *pant*...

(Did I shake him?)

Dammit?!

Was it when we first met? No, he didn't even touch me.

Those documents must be destroyed, Iberian.

Obey, and you may keep your limbs. Attached, if you prefer.

(Shit, he's fast...)

Weren't your friends only burning them because there wasn't time to save them all?

With your skills, you could just as easily have taken them yourself. So why the need to burn them?

'Friends?'

The man growls from the bottom of his throat, a sound born of humiliation.

We are not 'friends.'

Then what?

It doesn't concern you. Surrender the documents, and leave this place.

Whether you're with the Inquisition, or with another country...

(He stopped.)

Yes... you've always been sharp.

The mysterious Ægir gazes into the distance.

'Friends.'

(Ægirian) We may be bound by blood, but you must stay away from Ægir for now.

Elysium evades the attack, but it's immediately clear why he managed to.

The sword's aura rips the charred papers to shreds, sending the splintered truth drifting into the wind.

Crap—

(Ægirian) They cannot return to Ægir just yet. Allowing everyone to act on their own will only accelerate the destruction.

(Ægirian) Even though Ægir has already chosen the path of self-annihilation.

No more Sea Terrors approach.

Unsurprising numbers, for the coast. Now, where are you hiding?

You... *cough* No! Not the lantern!

Answer me. What do you intend for Gran Faro?

That lantern! Get it off me—

Answer me.

Ugh...

It... It's...

What are you pointing at?

Carmen looks back in the direction that the cultist is indicating.

A statue stands in the middle of the square.

Ah.

Gran Faro. The Great Lighthouse. Of course. You're seeking the lighthouse of Gran Faro.

Stop... stop it... ugh...

The nobles once called those great monuments the Eye of Iberia. Dozens of them once stood on Iberia's coastline.

Even had the Witch King's Tower in Leithanien not been toppled, it would still have been dwarfed by these guardians of the sea.

They are the single greatest mark that human civilization has ever left on this land.

The sea... *cough* the Eye of Iberia...

The miracle... destroyed the sacrilege... argh... take that lantern away!

The Profound Silence destroyed most of the lighthouses, and disabled the rest.

What are you plotting?

I see. So you knew...

You knew that one remained operational. That the goal of the Gran Faro project was to protect what was left of the Eye of Iberia.

That's why you've been lurking here, awaiting your chance.

You...

I never expected there to be traitors in the very heart of the Inquisition. Where are they?

Ha... hehehe...

While you're here... babbling away...

Look under your feet... and come face to face... with your pathetic... narrow-mindedness...

What?

(Unsettling slithering sounds)

Hm.

The Sea Terrors are... glowing?

What is this luminescence?

Get away from it!

Ah—

Mon3tr!

(Impatient growling)

Meltdown.

(Agitated roars)

Hello.

(Peaceful riff)

There is a familiar scent on you... Do you know what it is?

(Spirited riff)

A pleasant melody, but not the one that I know.

Then, how does the one you know go?

When she prayed, the stars ceased to shimmer♪

When she wept, the night let out a smile♪

When she laments, the anguish sprawled upon her madness♪

...A song of Ægir. A sad song.

But I don't like it. It belongs in the past. It lacks passion, and wallows in futile sentimentality—the same as Ægir itself.

A shame.

You've come home, Ægir.

Home? Me?

Sing.

In song, you will rediscover yourself.

Song?

What memories will singing recall?

Just sing. You will encounter your past. You must eventually find and face your destiny, or it will find you.

That's how it has ever been, since I left the ocean.

What a strange woman. But I don't mind singing.

Then sing.

La la la, la la la♪

When she prays, the stars ceased to shimmer♪

As always, there's such sorrow in your song.

Who are... you?

I never imagined we'd meet again in such circumstances, Laurentina.