level_act26side_st03

Hey, wing-man.

I'm talking to you! Hey, come back!

Assuming that 'wing-man' is an epithet for Sankta, there are multiple individuals who fit the name.

I'm talking to you. I know your name is Federico.

Very well.

You really know how to piss people off, don't you?

I don't have time for your crap.

That guy, Oren...

He said that Gerald, he... for us, for me and Fortuna...

Is it true? Is Gerald really—

Yes, Gerald is dead.

Now that you answered, I'm starting to wish you didn't.

I don't get it... how could it be...

...I'm sorry, but this is a fact.

Ha... what are you sorry about?

Bah...

Keep your distance, wing-man. Close your eyes. Don't look at me.

That thing on your head is way too bright. It hurts my eyes. I just need a second to adjust.

Very well.

Gerald gave you his knife. The choice was his. It's not my place to argue.

But I can't let you take it away.

You have to know what it means to take the weapon of a Sarkaz mercenary.

It means carrying on the legacy of his name.

Yes. That's why I'm going to take it back from you, along with Gerald's name, and his honor.

I challenge you.

You won't win.

I have to.

As long as I draw breath, I'll find you, and challenge you.

Don't you dare underestimate me.

I refuse your challenge.

H-How dare you?!

I'm challenging you to an honorable—

Gerald was a mere hunter. There is no legacy to inherit in this knife.

What do you mean?

Exactly what I said.

If you want a knife that inherited the name of a Sarkaz mercenary, I have never been in possession of one. You're wasting your time challenging me.

If you want the knife of Gerald the Hunter, then yes, I am currently in possession of it.

Why you...

Do you want it?

...Burdenbeast dung.

This was Gerald's treasure. He wouldn't never let me take it just like that.

You keep it safe.

You just wait... I'll lead my people to find a new path, just like Gerald did.

I'll come back for it when I've earned it.

Very well.

I will keep it safe, until then.

Raimund...

Stop gawking. I think he can take it.

What about you? You said you couldn't hold a gun anymore. Are you... praying with it?

Yes...

I have a feeling it will answer me again.

Can I still use it, Serpilia?

Why not? It may be a little old, but you can trust my handiwork.

I used to study antique guns, you know.

Lately, though, I'm finding new things a little more interesting.

Do new things scare you at all?

There's no point being scared. One wants to learn more, in spite of the fear.

Besides...

Somebody once told me that techniques exist to be used.

I didn't understand at the time. But now...

Now?

I understand a little. I'm a craftsman, and I'm responsible for the weapons I craft.

Well, set that aside for a bit. What about you?

Are you ready to leave with the Sarkaz?

H-How did you know what I was going to say?!

No empathy needed to guess your thoughts.

It's not such a big deal when you put it that way, is it?

You wouldn't come looking for me at this hour with that solemn look on your face, if you were planning to come back to Laterano.

...Sorry.

I promised to come quietly and accept the punishment I deserved... but now I'm trying to run away.

S-So...

So, will I let you go?

Take a guess.

Er...

Your whole deal here is kind of a headache. You'll have to wear a hood all the time, if you live in Laterano.

I-I see, I guess that won't work...

Not that it'll be much better anywhere else.

You'll need to hide your horns, your appearance, and your gun.

And I'll still be your warden. You'll have to keep in touch with me, no matter where you go, as long as you live.

You won't cause me any trouble, will you?

—Er, um.

Wait, you're letting me go? W-Won't you get into trouble for that?

Worst case scenario, I quit my job at the Curia.

That was a joke.

It's true that I'll have some reports to write when I get back. I'll think about whether to get started on a resignation letter after that.

Anyway, you owe me more than a pizzelle now.

Th-Thank you... thank you so much.

Are we... still kin?

Does it matter? You're not getting off the hook, kin or not.

I want those pizzella next time I see you.

The convoy is almost here. The abbey can start moving once it's refueled.

Well, this was a tricky case, even though the location wasn't that far from Laterano. I think I should borrow a bed at the abbey, get some rest.

I didn't see you do anything particularly tiring, Richele.

Weren't you pretending that you didn't know anything?

Or should I thank you for not being lazy enough to dump all the evidence linked to the Church of the Deep into the sewers?

Don't be so uptight, Oren.

I'm sure Federico remembers the Sarkaz mercenary's dossier better than I do. And you and Lemuen are definitely more familiar with Church of the Deep cases than I am.

Plus, don't you think we're starting to get along a little bit, after you gave up empathy?

Why are you bringing that up?

No reason. Just, sometimes it's better to know less about a guy, like how you have to close one eye when you shoot.

Just to make it clear, though, I took Lemuen's instructions about confirming whether the abbey had anything to do with the Church of the Deep seriously.

At the end of the day, I suppose we can all sleep better at night.

You're lucky... or should I say, we're lucky.

The monastery gets the supplies it needs to return to Laterano. The disruption to the inhabitants was minimal.

The fallen girl has gone with the Sarkaz. Laterano will be able to find her, and the Sarkaz, if need be.

Laterano's image has not been materially affected.

Things don't turn out so well every day.

I prayed for a smooth trip to Laterano, safe from bandit attacks.

We should be fine once we get to Laterano.

I hope so! The emissaries from Laterano don't look like they've ever been hungry, and their clothes are brand new. I envy them.

How do they plant their crops? Or do they give everyone a gun to hunt with?

Who knows? I can't imagine. I can't imagine what I would do with my time, if I didn't have to spend all my time fixing houses and making tools.

I'm trembling, and I can't tell whether it's from excitement or fear.

Let's pray. Our faith will protect us.

Well, we did our best, didn't we?

As for whether things will turn out well in the end...

Do you know where Mamma went?

A child? I thought everyone was gathered up here.

Mamma's not here... but she came back last night!

Yeah, Mamma brought us a gift last night. We lent it to a sleeping man...

Sleeping?

He was sleeping really deep! He must have been having a nice dream.

An abbey built upon a mobile plate, moving again after being stranded for a decade, almost becoming one with the land...

An impressive sight, the convergence of destruction and rebirth.

Yes...

You seem troubled. Do tell, if you feel unwell.

Your transformation is yet incomplete. The path ahead will be laborious.

I'm fine.

They...

Will the Laterans treat those children well?

I believe so. The sitting pope is known for moderation and benevolence. They will likely be taken in by foster parents and grow up in Laterano.

Traveling with the fallen angel, and with the eyes of Sankta from the Curia on them, it is unlikely that your kin will face any retribution.

I'm glad to hear that...

Only one thing, Bishop Aulus.

They're not my kin anymore.

If that is what you think, then that is what it will be.

The stranded Paradise is no more. It is time for us to set out.

Once again, we welcome you, Hyman.

What are your plans?

Sinners cannot be choosers.

You may have had the intention to cause harm, but at the end of the day, you didn't do any real damage.

Personally, I see no problem, but Velliv might be a little stricter where Iberia is concerned...

Ah, it doesn't seem like you're very happy with that answer.

I apologize for the discourtesy I showed, Reverend Nuncio.

I sense your sincerity. I accept your apology.

But I also sense that it's not what you really want to say.

It's not an easy thing, judging oneself...

It is the truth that I fell to despair, and knelt before the malice in my heart.

What is more deserving of punishment: Harm caused out of benevolence, or malice not put into action?

To me, it's the former.

An idea could be fleeting, or it could take root silently, biding its time.

How could you know that this is simply the result of a single moment of weakness?

What would this place be like, if I chose another path?

I can't say that I've purged the caprices from my mind... I can't even say that I still believe in our laws...

But you still feel it, don't you?

Yes, I do...

Every waking moment, I prayed that the people would be given their due, prayed that this little corner of Paradise would not slip through my fingers.

But I've waited for so long...

Too long. So long that I began to doubt that the very existence of faith was simply a self-imposed conceit.

How does it feel?

Despair, fear, sorrow... what else? The feeling of...

Incredulity.

How do we doubt something that exists in one's own mind?

It means you've begun to doubt yourself... with terrible consequences, if one is unable to dispel the doubt.

If even faith could be false, then how much of Stefano is real?

I wanted to understand. I tried to understand. But I overestimated myself.

We could never truly understand another. 'Understanding' remains precious, fleeting, even with the incredible power of empathy.

But having experienced so much, I have began to think that there are many emotions that can be communicated from one to another, and understood by most, even without the empathy.

At least, I can say that I have began to understand the thoughts of a certain individual, not because I sensed something, but because I have experienced it myself...

I offer this to you, Bishop Stefano.

It's...

The notebook of a cleric who spent some time here. I thought you might find it... interesting.

Perhaps, just like you, he had many questions, and many troubles.

You asked me about my plans.

I plan to return to Laterano. But not with the others.

You mean you want to travel from here to Laterano by yourself?

At your age...?

Please don't stop me. I must know. I must... rediscover my faith.

If there comes a day when I atone for my sins, if there is truly such a thing as miracles, perhaps I will find my Laterano then.

In that case...

I wish you the best of luck.

I hope you find your answer, Father Stefano.

We will meet again in Paradise.

The old man says no more.

Age has taken its toll on him, as have the ordeals of last night. The lines of age fill every gap on his face.

Before Lemuen's eyes, Stefano Torregrossa walks out the door, his back slightly hunched.

Executor Federico, reporting in.

As previously reported, the two nuncios are confirmed alive and well. They are expected to return to their posts in Laterano soon.

Plans are in place for Sanctilaminium Ambrosii to resume movement, setting a course for Laterano's outskirts. It is expected to arrive at its destination before Spring next year.

A request for supplies has been made to the Curia to ensure reliable mobility, and to meet the everyday needs of the inhabitants.

Forty-one of the one hundred fifty-three inhabitants of the monastery will depart the abbey. Serpilia will track and report on their subsequent movements.

The Sarkaz you mentioned?

I must admit my surprise, even though I had a hunch...

Whether it was the state of the abbey, the movements of the Church of the Deep, or Arturia...

You've done well, Federico.

I failed to meet your expectations.

Our intervention destabilized the situation at the abbey.

There were... three casualties.

You have doubts, my child.

...Yes.

I can rectify a wrong if I see it. I know many ways of stopping a sinner.

But at no point during this mission was there a clear course of action.

Why was the result suboptimal, if no error was committed?

Are our laws suitable for all circumstances? If not, on what do I base my actions?

That is where my doubts lie.

I don't have an answer for you, Federico, because this is a question that troubles me as well.

But I'm happy that you're beginning to ask these questions.

I don't understand.

There is no need to be anxious. You're beginning to ask questions that you've never considered before. Is that not a big step forward?

It's like pulling the cork from a bottle of fine wine. The hardest part is over. All that is left is to pour out what you want.

I'm going out to visit a friend, one that you're not unfamiliar with. I'll take your question to him.

And share with you the answer he offers.

The towering statue is silent. The rays of the morning sun pour in. The executor ends the call and looks up.

The aging Sankta's silhouette begins to fade into the morning sun as he slowly walks away.

As she sees him off, Lemuen gets a feeling.

The feeling that she has not seen the last of the old man.

As he said himself—

Perhaps he will find the Laterano that he is looking for.