level_act37side_05_end

It's hard to believe that you're leaving, Lady Heidi, after all the effort it took to return to this great city.

But perhaps it's time you returned to your father.

Back to Toron? Well... maybe I'll go further than that. My father is not the only guide I have in life.

Your advice has been most enlightening, of course, such as your story of dinner with the envoy of the Earl of March.

It's my pleasure to offer first-hand information to an aspiring novelist who is not involved in the political world.

Or perhaps, I will write my familiar homeland of Toron into the story of this terrible war in Londinium.

Yes, it can be painful to recall those shameful times, but someone must remember the heroic deeds we performed for the city.

Heroic... you're right. Maybe we're all heroes.

How about a love story: a girl from the Victorian borderlands falls in love with a young man who came on holiday, but the young man dies on the battlefields of Londinium.

In the end, though, the news of the young man's death turns out to be false, and he returns to her side a hero.

A brilliant idea, Lady Heidi. A love lost and found again, just like a city trampled by outsiders, but saved by our hands.

Hear, the orchestra plays. There is no wine or dessert, and the candles do not burn as bright, but the music remains beautiful.

By all means, join the dance. Leave me on this balcony with the inspiration you've supplied.

What about your friends here—

Uh...

An emissary from a foreign land, yet unfamiliar with Victorian customs. Surely you will forgive him?

Of course, of course.

Lady Heidi, is that right?

—Ah, I can show you around the place.

N—No, we shouldn't bother you any more than we already have. Thank you for the assist.

This place turns away no one. Next time, you should come in through the front door rather than the balcony, though.

Thank you for the offer, but... I'm not that interested in noble parties, to be honest.

Victorian noble politics was the first thing I studied before I came. I'm familiar with your customs, your attitudes toward the Infected, even your dance steps...

Setting aside whether a third-rate novelist would call herself noble... have you asked this soldier why she brought you here?

Sh—She didn't make me come here. I insisted on coming.

I apologize, Lady Heidi. He said he wanted to stay in Londinium and learn more about our Infected problem, so I was taking him around... in less-than-conventional ways, sometimes.

You can laugh if you want. You see how he is; not at all adept at lying or concealing his thoughts.

Rather fits the Pure Heart name, doesn't it?

Eliseo, representative of Pure Heart Medical?

I didn't expect our reputation to precede us...

It's easy to recognize the people who are interested in the Infected problem.

Less easy to see through the concerted deception of the nobility.

—Like how most of the people stepping onto the dance floor are Infected.

That's to be expected, in theory at least. The Originium particles that the Sarkaz spread don't discriminate according to social status. But...

Nobody will say it out loud. Nobody asks if they're standing next to an Infected. It's about appearances... and a dream.

Eliseo gazes at the hall. There are holes on pillars where golden ornaments once glittered, a testament to the looting during the war, but the passionate playing of the musicians is almost enough to cover up the desolation.

The self-proclaimed novelist opens the cap of her fountain pen and scribbles in a notebook.

You could call it meaningless self-consolation, at a time when basic livelihood is in question.

No, not at all.

Just different ways of living.

What is that?

The shadow of a synopsis... and a little extra information. I would like you to take it.

I have a feeling we will meet again, Eliseo.

Thank you.

If you don't mind me asking, though—you seem to be holding onto some pain that this banquet can't soothe.

I'm just missing a friend of mine.

There's one less person who will speak with me frankly, now that she's gone.

The Summit of Nations?

The Lateran is paying close attention to the events in Victoria. After all, this is a disaster caused by the Sarkaz.

However, the decisiveness that you and Parliament have shown on the Sarkaz question gave me hope for the city's revival.

Of course, His Holiness sincerely wishes to build the bridge of peace for the nations of Terra, in order to prevent another tragedy from happening.

You're not only here on behalf of His Holiness the Lateran Pope, are you?

I am but a humble Messenger, here to deliver a message to you and Parliament.

Then please send my apologies to His Holiness. I appreciate the kindness that Laterano is demonstrating, but Parliament is not in a position to address matters beyond Londinium.

Kindly inform the duke currently playing host to you that I am not going to Laterano in any capacity. As for his own plans, those have never been any business of Parliament nor myself, have they?

Of course. That's what Messengers are for.

Oren Argiolas. He was on Duke Gododdin's battleship during the war, but never participated directly on behalf of Laterano.

Just as I thought. Does Gododdin have a sweet tooth too?

If so, we don't have much for him here in Londinium.

So much for Parliament's day off.

One interesting tidbit. The Lateran Messenger went onto the ship with a group of refugees. He made an oath by placing his hand on his gun, in order to convince the Duke to accept the refugees.

And?

The scorching hot barrel gave him a blister on his hand.

Hah, that's out of nowhere. Is it important?

Day off.

Alright, I've been off. Now, which message should I read first? Investigation report on the Arts Circle remnants?

Oh?

Vina sees Lieutenant Shearer's name. Another letter.

She sighs and drops it in the 'Pending' bin.

Delphine, is this—

Hey, Vina! We caught those robbers you were on about and taught 'em a lesson!

Targeting frail Oripathy patients. Scum.

You know what's even worse? We got a bunch of cowardly wankers who wanted to join the ranks.

It's a good job you got the news quick and didn't give them a chance to grow.

I wish I could go out and move about.

Don't worry, I gave 'em an extra punch for you.

And I saved your share of the thank-you gift.

Wait, we're not collecting protection money—

When was the last time you had candy since we got back to Victoria?

Indra...

The lad who got robbed said he made 'em himself. A risk with every mouthful! It's not like you ever liked normal candy sticks.

He said he couldn't get his hands on regular sweeteners, so he's tried potatoes, carrots, Originium slug fluids...

I tried all of 'em. Didn't throw up or nuffin.

Sounds like a real pick-me-up. Can I try one?

Sure! There's plenty.

Are you okay, Vina?

Fine. I've had worse.

What about your Speaker duties?

Yeah, what are you worried about right now? New laws? Announcements? Reports?

Any work you need us to do? Especially the ones that involve punching which you can't do yourself.

I even took on a new lackey today! He's built like a straw, but I can teach him a few moves to defend himself.

It's time for Glasgow to rebuild. When can we go back—

Indra scratches her head. She did not need her friends' reproaching glances to realize she should not have asked.

Vina glances across her desk, where the mountain of papers has not grown any thinner.

Delphine walks to her side and takes the letters that she was holding.

I think it's time to give a public answer to the issues that concern our citizens. Most don't come to listen to Parliamentary debate, but they'll listen to the radio at the end of a long day.

The situation in the city is stabilizing. I've requested a third engineering team for Norport. Soon, our home will be back to the way it was.

BETTER than the way it was.

You can go back to Lynncardine, Delphine, once we've taken care of this business.

Diane?

Lieutenant?!

I'm retired... Sarah.

Oh, okay. Sir.

I thought you had declined the Sanatorium's invitation.

Just coming to visit, and to thank you again... I hope you don't mind.

I don't remember much, to be honest. The doctors say the rocks have gone into my head—your hands are trembling.

No need to hide it from me, sir. I haven't forgotten what you taught me.

Looks like addiction symptoms. From the war?

Excessive painkiller use. After that thing at the walls.

You must stay. I'll go for a doctor. Maybe they can...

At least find you some—

More painkillers? Yeah, maybe that would soothe the pain.

That's why you're here, isn't it? Supplies are short, but maybe they can spare some.

Lady Delphine has been very good to the Sanatorium, and to us.

Just a moment. I'll be right back.

He wants to stay. Maybe he could really get some painkillers, even if there is little enough to spare.

Phew—

Oh, where did he go?

Hey, watch where you're going!

Whoa, keep your distance. Something's not right with him.

The Speaker's office is... this way... argh...

He just toppled over! Another of those poor Infected sods?

Stay away from him! We're all goners if he shatters...

I'm... not... argh... my body... I can't...

I'll go get someone! Keep your distance, everyone!

Shearer collapses on the street. The rays of the setting sun are not particularly bright, but they are enough to hurt his eyes.

Or, perhaps, it is his body's way of reminding him that only another deep-seated desire can mask the pain.

He tries to adjust his breathing, like he instructed the soldiers fighting pain during the war...

But he fails. He has already lost the fight.

Shearer sees fire. It is so hot he cannot open his eyes. The sky burns. The walls burn. He burns—

He sees the day when he lay on the ground beneath the walls.

The walls of Londinium burned with Draco fire, burning brighter and brighter, until the flames consumed the sky.

He cries out in fear, and tries to cover his eyes—

...Lieutenant...

Lieutenant... Shearer... wake... up...

He sees a hand reach out towards him.

...Lady Delphine?

I have been waiting for you, Lieutenant.

I saw the letter you wrote to Vina... but you avoided me, just like you refused my offer of treatment.

She never read my letter... did she, Lady Delphine?

I can guess what you wrote.

I'm sorry, but I can't help you here. We both know the state of medicine availability in Londinium. You can't stay here.

Where can I go?

Lynncardine.

No! I...

I wasn't asking, Lieutenant. This is an order. And don't give me that excuse about being retired.

I know why you hesitate. I know what you fear.

You're afraid to face the senior officers who betrayed and abandoned you at Irnclad Galavae...

You're afraid that you won't come good on your loyalty to me and my mother, and you're afraid to return home like this. Aren't you?

I... I don't know...

You're not as strong as you think, Lieutenant. And I'm not as weak, or noble, as you think.

Our home is Lynncardine. Not here.

The war is over, Lieutenant. This soldier should go home.

Don't be afraid. I'm going home with you.

Let's go.

(Sob) But how... how do I make it home, when I'm like this...

I'll take care of it. Did you really think I would abandon you just because you didn't come looking for me?

Thank you... Lady Delphine...

Will you return to Londinium?

Yes. I promised Vina. But she may have to wait.

I'll make arrangements for you to get treatment. We'll depart once I've taken care of what I have in front of me.

Yes, my Lady.

Lynncardine... I'm coming home, Mother.