level_act17side_st08

It's here.

(He led me here, and then covered his scent. Seems he's learned a handful of tricks from his time on land.)

Gladiia looks all around her.

She knows that someone once considered a friend is watching her closely.

But she does not hesitate, nor does she have the luxury to hesitate. She must retrieve the secrets of this ship as quickly as possible, and... return them to Ægir.

She wishes to return to her home. She wishes to offer it her aid, to avert calamity.

She looks at the key in her hands.

She swings open the door to the treasury.

Burning away all the nethersea brand is no small feat. I really ought to thank Kal'tsit and that jet-black creature of hers.

The nethersea brand was unable to devour this reef. How unfortunate.

Yet this is but one of myriad forms. You have not heard the prophecy, so you would not understand.

Prophecy? Do you think yourselves more than a band of refugees clinging to unknown lifeforms? What sort of future did you expect?

Our prophet is nothing like you. She never paints images of a false future, nor does she make promises she cannot fulfill.

She spoke thusly: that countless massive scales shall merge into one and fly into the vast expanse. That the ocean will be smeared with light, forever growing, never drying up.

That life and death will disappear and merge into a single entity. And at that time, even the false cosmos will be unable to eclipse the light of life.

We shall all live in that ecosystem. We are all part of its magnificent Cycle. Life is born, is given purpose, seeks worth, and disappears. Only for the cycle to begin anew.

Sounds a whole lot like the sort of elaborate hallucination that can be cooked up by Originium Arts.

Is pushing Iberia to its current precipice, and slaughtering millions of lives, also part of your magnificent Cycle?

What do you possibly know?! Our kind does not consider the death of an individual to be an 'end.' Even when a life ends, it remains part of the Cycle!

You are angry, you are restless, and above all you are only human, heretic.

...You won't take me alive, Inquisitor. I know all about your heinous Originium Arts. We're all prepared to make the greater sacrifice.

Our prophet will remain as out of reach to you as time itself slipping through your fingertips.

High Inquisitor! Everyone in Gran Faro has long held a grudge against you people! The Penal Battalion cannot approach this place, and you are alone!

There's nowhere for you to run!

...Run?

Did you think we came here to entertain your sophistry about good and evil?

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

He's not saying anything. This Iberian's a damn imbecile.

That black monster must have some kind of weakness. It's extremely durable, and can burn the nethersea brand with ease. What the hell is that thing?!

If you don't tell us, then by the time the Penal Battalion breaks free, we'll have already—

—Lost?

Haha... You can't even handle Dr. Kal'tsit and the Inquisitor. Admit it, you've already lost.

Shut up!

I'm gonna make you— Wait, what are you doing?!

Why's your staff moving around?! What did you do?

Guess you spent so much time researching tentacle monsters that you forgot what Originium Arts are?

Seriously, get your head outta the clouds—

Guh—

You self-righteous bastard—! You think we haven't made ample preparations? Do you have any idea how long we've waited to flush out all of you scum colluding with the Inquisition?

Don't fall for his tricks. He's been hiding in this town for months now. Definitely a spy, and one well-versed in communications to boot.

There's a chance our position has already been compromised.

Spies, spies! Of course the Inquisition's spies have been lurking among us since long ago!

I knew about you people because you never tried to hide it, and Amaia and I are close. But the Inquisition is different. They already don't like us, and if they wanted to hide...

How would we ever know? After all, we've been nothing but laborers for generations.

Throw him out then, and feed him to our kin. The nethersea brand's growth is slowing down, and we need more nutrients to stop the Penal Battalion.

We should also find an escape route.

Alright. I'll lead the way. Nobody's more familiar with this town than me, and we've left behind plenty of secret passages and underground depots.

You shouldn't be doing this, Thiago.

How long have we known each other? And now you're gonna preach to me, you platitude-spewing zealot?

Stand up and walk. Time to become a part of the sea.

(I see.)

(A union of Originium and Ægir technology, a sturdier dome, the use of modules from nomadic cities on land, and the scalability of Originium Arts.)

(So this is how the genius of the Academy of Sciences viewed this land. And he managed to accomplish all this decades ago.)

(However...)

However, it's still not enough.

Ægir would be able to accomplish all this even without making contact with land. The integration of certain technologies cannot make the difference between victory and defeat.

I knew it... It's you.

I wish it weren't, though, Ulpianus.

Stay back. Take another step and I'll run you through, my old comrade-in-arms.

Skadi once thought herself the last of the Abyssal Hunters. Even she had thought you dead. Yet here you are.

How insightful of you, Consul Gladiia.

The circumstances don't seem to call for pomp and ceremony, Consul Ulpianus.

Feeling a bit nostalgic over titles long disused, are we?

We've known each other long enough. You should know very well what it means when a Hunter doesn't return.

I've executed no fewer than you. And I can assure you that if any survivors have sunken into the abyss, I'd still hang them up to bake on the reefs before they ever got a chance to hear that song.

What about now? You reek of their scent. You've become one of them.

Don't lie to yourself, Gladiia. You are strict with others, but even more so with yourself.

Has wandering the land sufficiently satisfied your desire to torment yourself?

Hunter, I WILL kill you if your answer doesn't satisfy me.

Gladiia, most of this situation is largely out of your hands. I'm forced to approach the problem from a different angle.

What situation?

I... Like you, I have spent some time on land.

But what I saw was different. Did you come to understand the civilizations on land? No, you don't need to answer that, Gladiia the ever-arrogant.

For their civilizations to survive, they tapped into Originium. It brought them opportunity and hope, but it also unprecedented calamity. To this day, they still have not fully analyzed its principles.

I've witnessed many tragedies... They've given them the name 'Catastrophes.' They are foolish, ignorant, and weak, but the way they struggle and die is still harrowing.

And the Ægir... are no different.

You were never this sentimental in the past.

No, sentiment has nothing to do with this.

What I'm saying is, Ægir provoked the ocean in order to survive, and the ocean devoured it in return. Then, ocean gave birth to us.

We are products of a grotesque struggle. If we are unable to resolve this problem at its root, then we are unable to resolve it at all.

...What did you see, Ulpianus? What did you see to make you abandon the bonds of blood and the camaraderie we shared in battle?

'Sanctuary.' No doubt that is what those filthy cultists would've called it.

Your familiarity with them only reduces my trust in you.

But the word is an apt description.

You know what Ægir once found in the depths of the ocean. Even if aren't a historian, a general education should've covered at least this.

Thousands of years ago, we reached the heart of the ocean. There, we found the point of origin. The cradle of civilization.

As far as I know, Gladiia...

He, and those Seaborn, in the deepest recesses of their nest...

I saw it. A 'construct.' No, not even the greatest science consuls of Ægir would have been able to make sense of what I saw.

I was unable to go deeper, as my injuries were too severe. My blood boiled, my ears rang, but still I felt—

...What?

—The plurality of Him.

Well... That doesn't even slightly explain why you abandoned the team. You should have brought this information back.

When millions of cries returned to a single point, the unhatched Seaborn all murmured the same name from within their differently-shaped sacs.

...Ishar-mla.

Or rather, Skadi.

Did it escape into the sea?

No matter. It will return. And we'll continue to wait.

Ugh. Whoever decided that we were its 'kin'? Pathetic.

Mm. I see it too. The waves breaking unnaturally, like a twister. Or a mirage of an ocean city. What a strange sight.

Pah. It sure was lively today. Haven't had this much commotion since young Jamie and the chef died.

...Nnh.

Pomegranate... flower.

...Knight.

I wasn't expecting to see you back so soon. Did you come rushing to my ship because you missed the scent of your hometown? Have you gone completely mad yet?

The knight simply stares at Alfonso in silence.

But almost immediately, his sight fixates once again upon the ocean. Alfonso follows his gaze, and through the years in which time itself has become nebulous, day and night have already lost all meaning.

Are you still hunting the terrible waves?

I sure hope the blood of these monsters hasn't made you immortal. You can look forward to drowning one day. What a joyous thing.

Not a whole lot of wind today.

...Waves, are the ocean's, breath.

It still has not, stopped breathing.

It has not, died.

Just like, the monsters, on land. They devour, destroy.

The monsters on land.

Civilization!

Skadi.

Hm?

I just remembered something else. How... did we manage to survive?

How did YOU survive?

I can't remember the details. We hacked and we slashed, again and again without pause, until finally He...

Uh, what I meant was, if they really wanted us dead back then, would we have been able to survive?

Let me put it another way. Ægir doesn't know we're alive either.

They have no way of knowing.

Was it Swordfish who said she wanted to come to this ship?

Yes. She said this ship could bring us home.

Mm, this does to be Ægir craftsmanship, though the shipwright, Breogan... The name doesn't ring a bell.

...You never did remember the scientists' names.

Do you?

...It's such a relief, even talking to you like this.

Are you back for good, Laurentina? You won't leave us again, will you?

Haha, do you have to be so cheesy about it? I've also been with you, things just got a bit blurry in the middle there. Plus, it's kinda fun playing the part of a well-behaved nun.

Oh, but the captain had this outfit specially made for me by our friends over at Rhodes Island. She already knew my measurements even!

...To be honest, you grew a bit taller.

Wait, how do YOU know that?

I... I was only helping out. The Captain said she didn't trust the tastes of the landwalkers.

Tastes? Ahaha...

We both know that's the last thing she cares about. Though, at least I can appreciate how she always makes sure these details are in place.

She said you like long dresses, and I did always have that impression. But... I rarely do these... tailoring activities.

Hm...

Ah, these symbols, they're Ægirian letters. We wrote them together.

They talk about you, about Gladiia, about me. About Ægir... our home.

Whose idea was this? Couldn't have been mine, right?

We all came up with it together.

What about the style?

...Swordfish picked it.

How unlike her.

We have to dedicate ourselves to battle.

Sure, sure, but no reason I can't doll myself up before the hunt, right?

Skadi, do you know what the first thought was, when I emerged from my stupor and remembered who I am?

What?

It was to re-examine myself, to see how different I was from that clear, but distant, memory of myself on the other side of the shore.

Though I was dressed as a good little nun last time, I didn't particularly mind—

But now that my trusty companions have chosen my outfit for me, that makes me even happier. Can you understand how I feel?

Mm... Definitely better than when you woke up in a jar in Sal Viento.

Haha, that's for sure.

So, that's why we're going to win over Mister Captain right now, yes?

Leave it to me.

No, impossible...

Ishar-mla.

When I sank into the trench along with the titan's corpse, enduring a pressure that no ordinary Ægir could bear, I saw something I'd never seen before.

Gladiia, you know why Ægir distances itself from the land. You know the many theorems as to why Originium and Catastrophes cannot invade us.

Most of them have been proven correct. The ocean is like a petri dish, nourishing and protecting the purity of Ægir.

But... what if the civilization we're so proud of is nothing more than mold growing on the back of some giant?

You were always exceptionally inquisitive, a quality that allowed you to make contributions in various fields, sowing the seeds for great breakthroughs. But to slander Ægir? You've changed so much I hardly recognize you.

Plus, you should know the boundaries of what is appropriate. Your speculation about Skadi... You levy the cruelest of accusations against your fellow Hunter.

'Seaborn' is just a broad, catch-all name. As you know, their morphology is significantly more complex.

You've been concerned that Skadi might become an even higher form of them, have you not?

First and foremost, I'm concerned that you've chosen the wrong path.

The 1st Company and the 4th Company perished along the way, one after the other, to create an opportunity for us to break through.

And you, the 2nd Company, stayed near the nest's entrance. It seems wrong to even describe it as a 'nest.' We'd entered a vast, singular entity, where we nothing more than tiny germs.

But germs are more than capable of killing a healthy person.

And we were successful, or so we led ourselves to believe.

I simply fell into a deep sleep, along with His corpse. Blood, if that luminous substance can even be called that, had drenched my whole body and enveloped me.

But I simply slumbered with His corpse for a long, long time. I hid in the crevasses of His empty shell, leaning against the remnants of His flesh, until all sounds around me fell silent.

But what about Skadi? It was she who dealt the final blow.

That was not a normal 'killing.' Nor was it a 'hunt.' It was 'feeding,' a feeding of their kind.

Your conjecture is both correct and faulty. Did you assume that all Hunters will eventually lose control and become Seaborn? No, not Skadi.

You already understand. Those who've witnessed Him, those of us who sank into the trench and floated back up, all understand.

You mean to say that...

If anything goes wrong, we must kill her.

She's YOUR Hunter.

You still haven't offered an explanation for your deliberate cover-up and betrayal. And you would have me trust your speculation like this?

I'm not keen on your habit of staying silent. Maybe I'll have to take away your mobility and drag you back to Ægir.

A pity that one of our consuls might finally fall in battle. Could harm morale.

Let's see you try.

Gladiia. How can you still claim to represent Ægir when you are so distraught about your own transformation?

This is an opportunity. I don't expect your assistance, or even understanding, but some of us cannot afford to pass up this opportunity.

Only by uncovering the truth do we have a chance at survival.

And how is that related to what you're doing?

You came for the ship. I came for Breogan.

I've already made a breakthrough. Breogan's evidence corroborates what I've seen. Truly an amazing man. To think he arrived at these same conclusions, in that era, under those conditions.

Those by your side— You already understand that only they are truly valuable. None of the land-dwellers will ever understand. And thus, he died in solitude.

I wouldn't say that nobody understands, but...

'But.' For someone as strong and resolute as yourself, how many times have you said 'but'?

We are colleagues. Together, we were the architects of this war. We should trust in each other more.

A final word of advice—don't return to Ægir. It is too soon, too dangerous. Too many things we haven't straightened out. Going back now is wasted effort, and you do not know what has become of it.

Remain on land. Should something happen, of course—she IS my Hunter.

I will shoulder the responsibility.

Gladiia wants to say something else.

But when she turns her head, a tremendous cracking sound spreads through every corner of the room. A violent shuddering follows, and the truth filling the table is scattered across the ground, seeming to sear her vision.

'Leviathan.'

Before the chief designers of warfare proposed the Abyssal Hunter plan, before the Abyssal Hunters delved into their nest, Breogan chose a title that the foolish land-dwellers are obsessed with to this day.

He wanted to thoroughly elucidate the nature of calamities. He found the last piece of the puzzle on land.

My... key... The smell of wheat... Homeland? My homeland supports me. My family supports me.

Until I, crush the ocean.

The two Hunters look at the brooding knight.

Gladiia clenches the key in her hand.

...Then take a look at this monster. Take a good look. He appears human but is not human. Even the ocean's kin reject him.

Day in and day out, he searches for the terrible waves and seeks to quash them. An endless, futile pursuit.

Just like us.