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'I arrived in this new land from my maritime home. There is no end to ghastly shock here, not a break in the tragic weave.'

'The clouds are far from as fine as told in legend, and both the land and sky are wrathbitten and hurting. Cities comparable to Ægir are all but prey to Catastrophe.'

'Moreover, the people of this dry land are plagued by an inscrutable sickness. I had learnt of Oripathy, of Originium, from many an academy record. Seeing it firsthand, though, the truth of how it has become an integral part of the land, its roots deep and stubborn, is made witheringly apparent.'

'Nevertheless, they still tenaciously live, pursue both technology and truth through their unique means, and seek to leave the mark of their continued existence.'

'Though I am lambasted a traitor, I do not regret my decision to come ashore. The Seaborn swarm is expanding; within a decade, Ægir will find itself besieged with no quarter. But someday, I will complete my travels and return to Iberia.'

'I will leave this memoir behind, for the Ægir to seek and decipher. I have no faith in the nobility; I am certain that those Ægir termed 'Islanders' today will find Iberia withdrawing its respect for them soon enough, whatever the reasons may be.'

'The Golden Dreadnought, the Eye of Culture, the Jurisprudence of Evolution, the Stele of Life. The Ocean and Land must form a united front to withstand the billowing waves.'

'It was never my intent to serve as a pioneer. All I am is one step ahead of fate.'

—From a copy of the notes of Breogan, famed Iberian architect and chief shipwright, written in cryptic Ægirian.

This is a matter between the Ægir.

So long as you stand on Iberian soil, the law is watching you. And so am I.

Hmph...

What is the relation between you and those three Abyssal Hunters?

You've harmed Skadi. Strange. Surely she intended to avoid combat.

Her blood is a special sort, more special than the rest of ours. I hope you've been diligent in cleaning your weapons.

I'm the one asking questions here.

And I'm the one who decides whether to answer.

I gather the only Hunters granted freedom of movement by Lord Carmen were those who declared their interests during the Sal Viento conflict.

...Mm. Seems it wasn't a coincidence you crossed swords with her then.

She was hardly weak.

...Weak?

What a naive appraisal. She's just unaccustomed to dry land. She lacks flexibility.

Don't move, Ægir.

Comply with the High Inquisitor's investigation. The Inquisition has already concluded negotiations with the Hunters. Your every move merely undermines the basis of our cooperation.

...Cooperation?

I advise you to rethink your actions.

Inquisitor, how many soldiers like you does Iberia have?

That is none of your business.

Enough to amass an army three thousand strong?

Then Iberia is still unqualified.

You're going nowhere!

(Sharp chafing sounds)

What? Where did they come from?

High Inquisitor! Are you alright?

I'm fine. That Ægir...

This was my fault, sir!

He could easily have used that chance to take an arm from me, yet he chose to flee.

It seems we can't afford to give chase just yet.

They're headed for the city! They're hiding in the soil!

No.

This entire swathe of earth has been polluted.

H-How can that be?

Take a good look at that gray land, and the sinister miasma filling it.

Yes, sir!

Gran Faro is not being infiltrated by the Church of the Deep. It has already fallen to them.

Prepare to fight head-on. Ensure Lord Carmen is safe, ASAP.

This fluorescent nethersea brand... It's akin to their own city.

It beggars belief. They're born from it, they proliferate and migrate through it...

(Ominous slithering sounds)

Not all lives thirst for independence. It's no wonder these filthy things were able to hide in this town.

...But who brought them ashore?

Welp, this is just perfect. And here we thought we could find a little inspiration on our beach trip. Talk about a total wash.

(Riffs in agreement)

The sea's caressing the land. I can tell. This is bad gone badder.

Kal'tsit once said the Ægir won, and that the Abyssal Hunters are the orphans of that battle. But with how things look now, I'm starting to doubt there was ever a win.

Oh, speaking of Kal'tsit, did she give us the thing?

Yep.

Way to beat around the bush. Why didn't she just give it straight to that Ægir? Gladiia. That would've been faster.

(Riffs in doubt)

She wanted to use the key to draw us into this. And from that view, she definitely succeeded.

Or maybe, she was originally planning to make us retrieve or help out with something. And then she changed her mind.

Huh? Hasn't she always been, like, three hundred steps ahead? What could possibly force her to change her mind?

...I'm just saying it's possible. Sure, she knows a lot of things, but more than that, she's cautious. If not, how many times would she have died by now?

Uh, what are you dancing around for? Dan?

This chapel would work great for a concert!

Skadi, Shark.

We wiped out every enemy we could see.

...Formless wisps of waves are spreading here, as the tide on sandy shores.

An inauspicious omen. We—We should not be here.

It seems cleaning up some trash wasn't enough to bring her back to her senses.

What do we do?

Once this area is spotless, we borrow the Iberian's assistance in finding that ship.

There are things we don't recognize on their bodies.

Perhaps a part of the Sea Terrors themselves.

...I've been wondering for a while now.

How can they still evolve so fast? How are they still so full of life?

Even though we've already...

That's precisely the question we intend to shed light on. It is also the reason I was willing to cooperate with Kal'tsit.

Dr. Kal'tsit...

A fine woman, to be sure.

Rouse yourself, Hunter. End this before the sun sinks below. Sea Terrors who cannot hear the ocean's call are but inferior lifeforms.

Understood.

You... Gladiia? You've come. I will listen, then.

...Shark.

Do you find it unwieldy in your hands?

This? I often forget the weapon is in my grasp. As if I'm dancing with it.

That is your past, and it has almost caught up to you.

We'll be waiting.

(Shuddering gargles)

You lead a punctual march, Dario. Have you arranged what I asked of you?

Yes, Lord.

The Penal Battalion has readied a ship to leave for the Eye of Iberia. They've also evacuated the coast and surrounded this town by now.

Those misguided fools have nowhere to flee.

There's nothing to fear in those petty villains, but the new threat they've brought forth is an astonishing one.

Our technology is able to treat this much pollution.

Which is only a temporary victory, Dario. And this is 'Ægir technology,' not ours.

If for every second of every minute, every droplet and every grain of the tides beating against our sandy shores spreads the Sea Terrors and their ecology, how are we to defend our homeland then?

We will find an answer before that happens.

Yes, most assuredly.

The Inquisition is also prepared to do battle with the Abyssal Hunters. We will throttle them to death on this remote shoreline.

A fitting cemetery. We can only hope they make the wise choice, and that Kal'tsit can accomplish what she's pledged to.

So this is your apprentice, then. I'm familiar with her from her work.

Y-Yes! Inquisitor Irene, reporting in, Lord Carmen!

They say that when Dario found you in the ruins, a thick tome of classics had lodged itself in the beams of the caving roof. A miraculous equilibrium that saved your life.

Yes, sir!

Young one, you are here only because Dario has determined that you have the will to rush onto the frontline.

Yes, sir!

There is an immaturity to you, but you are eager to prove yourself. Your body is filled with vigor and tenacity.

But your duties in Gran Faro will be no easier than in Sal Viento. From here on, you will only be plunging ever deeper into the heart of evil. Are you prepared?

For Iberia's orderliness and integrity, I shall raise my sword and my lantern.

To me, this motto is more than just a rallying cry.

She will be prepared.

Mm... I trust your judgment, but fate does not often give its people time to prepare.

Dr. Kal'tsit and I have matters to attend to still. The mission of guiding the Abyssal Hunters back to the Eye of Iberia is now yours.

The Eye of Iberia... High Inquisitor, what exactly is our task?

...Establish a camp, safeguard the route, and ensure that our maintenance teams can safely reach the lighthouse.

The last piece of the Eye of Iberia is fifty nautical miles out from the nearest coast to Gran Faro.

Assuming, of course, that it's still where the maps indicate.

Fifty nautical miles...

Once, our fleet could gaze far across the surface of the tranquil sea. But since the Profound Silence, the ocean has become like a boiling poison, melting all who touch it.

This is a daunting mission. But recapturing this final lighthouse is of tremendous importance to our people.

U-Understood, sir!

It is for this that we require the Ægirs' assistance.

You are skeptical.

She has been to see the Inquisition's underground cages.

So, you have witnessed the truth of the Inquisition's search, in spite of the fact it cannot obtain an answer.

Go, young Inquisitor. Time will not wait. But if necessary, I will have you put time itself on trial.

(Pronounced slithering sounds) —!

Watch out!

You okay there?!

I-I'm fine. Sorry, Mr. Elysium, I'm being a drag on us again...

Uh, haha, don't you mind it.

Those Sea Terrors...

(Identical wounds, pounded into holes in twos and threes. This style has to be Skadi and the girls.)

This town's been wrecked through and through.

Haha... yeah...

Whoa—hold it! Jordi!

Ngah!

Wh-What is this?

—Fluorescent... creepers? Floating creatures? Or is it... uh, coral?

This stuff is covering the whole street ahead... Hold on, something's coming out of the roofs—

—! Move!

Wait, wait—

—No way, they already have nests here?! I thought the Church of the Deep guys just sicced them on the town!

(And wait, could they seriously have just been born? This many?! How fast does it go?)

Jordi!

Oh, I'm here, I'm here!

Ditch! Take a 180 and run for it!

But they're behind us too, Mr. Elysium!

—Ugh, these monsters build nests faster than the freaking undertide gloompincers did—

Then it's do-or-die. Hey, Jordi, find something, anything. You gotta weaponize.

W-Will an umbrella do?

...Yeah, sure looks like we're in for some rain. Hold onto that thing like you mean it!

(Pronounced slithering sounds)

—! Get ready!

(Self-satisfied braying)

—Burn it all. Together with the buildings.

(Delighted hisses)

It would seem Ægir technology isn't necessary to treat the nethersea brand.

Dr. Kal'tsit!

Good, you're in one piece. What happened?

...And who is this somewhat despondent-seeming Ægir?

Outstanding strength, Hunters.

Spare us your remarks. Let us hasten to the topic at hand.

Kal'tsit has recently suffered quite the ordeal on your behalf.

The aid she has given us will be forever carved into my memory. While what you've done... I will likewise never forget.

But this present situation is by her arrangement. A small coastal town, a simple meeting.

Then in honor of her efforts, may we set aside our grievances and begin the discussion?

What you seek is Breogan's legacy. You want to find the Stultifera.

(Stultifera Navis, the 'Ship of Fools?' Wasn't that the flagship of the fleet wiped out in the Profound Silence? But how many years has it been?!)

What most piques my curiosity is how a foreigner can be so sure that it remains afloat.

Then, from the Iberian point of view, do you believe it to be sunk or not?

Hmm...

In all likelihood... it isn't.

However, it has not once returned to port.

A ship, unsunk for over sixty years, yet never returning to dry land's harbor.

Can your people determine its position?

We could once. But not now.

In other words...

Gladiia looks to the statue beside them.

She has no recollection of such buildings. Perhaps they had already died their silent deaths before she came ashore.

The 'Eye of Iberia.'

These wonders were once the cornerstone of a magnificent project, but most of the lighthouses that form the Eye perished in the Profound Silence. Only one remains.

It does not belong to you. It belongs to Ægir.

...Breogan was indeed an Ægir, and he came from the ocean, but his devotion was selfless. He made ample contribution to Iberia's sea explorations.

After the disaster, you let your citizens pour their rage upon the Ægir—upon him. Indulging such folly paints you in an untrustworthy light.

Yet are the Ægir able to swear no implication in the Profound Silence?

Walls will be the death of us all. If the two of you are so determined to continue this conversation, then both Iberia and Ægir are as good as destroyed.

Civilizations do not die, they are merely endlessly replaced. But the next time it happens, humanity will have no hand in it.

Dr. Kal'tsit, please mind your tongue with Lord Carmen.

I do not mind; we've certainly known each other long enough. But is this your usual method, Kal'tsit?

Surgically extracting the key individuals from the gargantuan body of fate, sitting them down in front of you, and convincing them of the rightness of your idea?

My idea is simply to save you. Iberia is free to refuse, as is Ægir.

If we count the untested young lady, then there are six at the table: three each for both the Inquisition and the Hunters.

The town square itself is an Iberian marvel constructed by an Ægir. It could not be more appropriate for such a conference.

At this very moment, the nethersea brand is still spreading. The Sea Terrors have built a nest in town, and their existence takes a vastly different form than before. A difference drastic enough to cause alarm.

If none present yet recognize the scale of this oceanic threat, then perhaps we really should adjourn. We can watch as the precious time bought by the sacrifice of the Abyssal Hunters is whiled away for nothing.

Was our victory... meaningful?

Of course. Without it, then after the Profound Silence, Iberia would not even have a deathbed to struggle upon.

As for you, Lord Carmen, I hope you can put aside your prejudices against the Ægir. Use your—

—I'm so very old now, Kal'tsit. Let's get to the point, shall we?

I've aged past the inclination to win every argument, as well as the strength to uphold glory through speeches.

There is no greater glory than survival, and no one sees the situation clearer than I. You may rescind your words. The Inquisition is willing to fully cooperate with the Abyssal Hunters in finding the lost dreadnought.

The golden... dreadnought.

I have no objections.

I would've thought contact between Ægir and Iberia would give you pause.

Contact? Ah... if you could breathe underwater, if you could visit our cities without the aid of equipment, then I would not mind showing you a true display of Ægir's technology.

We look forward to it, Madame Consul.

A Tercio of the Penal Battalion will immediately shore several dual-use warships at Gran Faro, establish a camp, and clean up the harbor in preparation.

Dario, Irene, go with the Abyssal Hunters. Prioritize securing a sea route to the Eye of Iberia. Pass your judgment on arrival.

As you command.

Kal'tsit, should...

Should time be of the essence, I will prioritize reestablishing contact with Ægir.

A voyage to the deep sea is a treacherous affair to us all, but for you, it will simply be a trip back home.

You will find that ship, and you will find a way back to Ægir. I leave the details to your discretion.

Perhaps it will be far in the future when next we meet.

So long as you remember our words. We hope that once you've returned, you will be able to reevaluate all that Ægir has suffered.

Then let us make haste. We will—

Ah—

Sorry, Dr. Kal'tsit. Uh, ever since the part about the lighthouse, Jordi's been—

The Ægir, perfect. I have much to ask you.

Wait.

Who are you?

I... I'm a resident of this town, my name is Jordi.

There shouldn't be any Ægir in Gran Faro! Our dossier says there are records of collusion between the Ægir and the Church of the Deep!

Who are your parents?

My... my parents were lighthouse technicians. They gave their lives for the Eye of Iberia.

My house is filled with dusty blueprints, I... I may have never actually seen the lighthouse, but...

I want to. The meaning of my homeland... the meaning of my parents' lifelong struggle... I, uh...

You may not. The Inquisition must first interrogate you.

And why should I consider protecting a feeble civilian in a melee?

What if he were a descendant of Breogan?

What? But he looks nothing like the photographic records of Breogan.

Even if it's true, we should be demanding he turn over what's left of his family's legacy, and let the Inquisition take over the research.

High Inquisitor!

What is your name, Ægir?

...Jordi. Jordi Fontanarossa. My uncle told me that—

Then you should know what awaits you for voluntarily appearing before the Inquisition.

I... I know.

Irene.

Yes, sir!

Seize him.

...And take him with you.

Yes... Er, what?

That was what you wished for, was it not?

Thank you, Lord. Nevertheless, my greatest hope is to see true, enduring cooperation between Ægir and Iberia.

Even the longest journey starts with a single step.

Then we don't have a moment to lose. We will let the Eye of Iberia gaze upon the desolate sea once again.