level_act46side_08_end

An empty office.

Gnosis is unused to the sight. He walks to his desk. Under his mug, filled with steaming-hot fresh coffee, is a document with Enciodes's signature.

'Letter of Appointment'.

Would it have killed you to come over and say goodbye...?

...It is signed.

You know how risky this is.

Minerals and land are inseparable. We shall bypass the Vine-Bead Court and sign cooperative mining agreements with foreign nations ourselves.

This will cause a lot of headaches for us in the future.

If we do not pay them their pound of flesh now to close the gap, they shall simply demand much more from us later.

This is the lowest price we are able to bear.

Your calculations are rather optimistic, Enciodes.

And you have always been less optimistic than I am, no matter the topic.

Which means most times, you have been able to walk further than me.

If it wasn't for that optimism of yours, I would not have the confidence to take a single step in the darkness.

Heh.

It has been a long while since I heard such praise from you.

Go, see our plans through, Gnosis.

Everyone from middle management and above is here. We can start the camera at any time.

Begin recording.

Yes, sir. What is today's announcement about?

I have gathered you all here today to announce a major change in personnel.

As of today, Enciodes Silverash will no longer serve as Chairman and CEO of Karlan Trade.

Enciodes admits all responsibility for the recent occupational incidents and has resigned. The Board of Directors has already ratified his request.

At the same time, the Board has decided that I, Gnosis Edelweiss, shall take over all of Enciodes's duties.

Now, allow me to make the first proclamation of Karlan Trade's new era as a representative of the Board, to all our colleagues, and to the people of Kjerag.

Karlan Trade shall be ceasing all collaboration with Victoria.

As for the many past agreements that Enciodes insisted on signing, they shall all be temporarily paused until the Board has decided on further courses of action.

At this extraordinary time, I ask all our colleagues to work hard at their posts, to keep the development of Kjerag at the forefront of their minds, and to sweep away the lingering problems of the past.

Kjerag needs us.

Wake up, we're here for our shift.

...Sure took your time.

First time we've been here, had to find the place.

This lot been much trouble?

Most of them aren't talking much. Just mind the lead geezer.

Which one's he?

Isn't the Vine-Bead Court all geezers?

Everyone bursts out in laughter before heading off, leaving just the two guards to take their shift.

...You should ease it up a bit. How could you disrespect the elders like that? You're from Kjerag too, right?

Still sticking up for him? It was this bunch of <i>Schiisdräck</i> who got us into this mess—

Shut it, you got a death wish?

The two guards look towards Elder Adso as he sits within his cell. He is focused on the thick tome in his hands, playing with a corner of the page as he thinks.

All's good.

What're you so afraid of? They've been talking big for centuries now, but it's not like the Court's managed to flip Kjerag upside-down, have they?

They're the vicars of Kjeragandr. Even if you don't respect the elders, you should still respect Her.

What's the Court done that a guy like me needs to respect them?

When my mom was sick, the clerics picked some grass for her to eat. Made me pray to the grass, saying that it would bring Kjeragandr's protection.

In the end, we brought her to one of Karlan Trade's doctors. He told me, if we had kept going with the clerics' 'treatment plan', she wouldn't have lasted another day.

I'd say the real vicar is Sir Enciodes!

...'The scholar known as Jürgen was an ardent follower of Her, and did much good. Out of resentment, evil men accused him of stealing courtly coin, and he was to be put to death a few days hence.'

'Jürgen's limbs were bound tight, and at night, he heard the clattering of soldiers' swords. He knew his death was near, and in his heart, he was anguished.'

This is...

Guess I found which geezer to look out for.

The guard raises his baton as he approaches Adso's cell, striking the bars over and over. Adso does not stop his recitation as he looks at the guard calmly.

Hey, greybeard, shut your mouth while you're in that cell.

Think about how you're going to explain all your sins to Kjeragandr when you meet Her.

'Jürgen looked up but saw no light. In his futility, he knelt upon the straw lining his cell, in supplication to Her.'

'O Righteous Kjeragandr, have I not done good in Your name? Have I not sought truth in Your name?'

'Do good men die in Your kingdom while the unjust gain salvation?'

'Why do the lawmakers only hear absurd falsities? Why do the people I saved stand in unspeaking silence?'

<i>Schiisdräck</i>! Have you no shame, you traitor?!

I'm going to teach you a lesson—

The guard puts his baton away before taking out his key to open the cell door, though it keeps missing the keyhole as his right hand trembles in rage.

...'O Kjeragandr! Though my body be trapped in gaol, my soul still seeks Your mercy.'

'Whilst my eyes can still see, and my ears can still hear, stretch out Your righteous hands to me!'

I swear, today is going to be the last day you can even open a copy of the <i>Kjeragandr!</i>

Wh-What have I done...

I hurt another guard...

You have done well, my child.

Our divine duty is not limited to the three clans, the Saintess, or the Vine-Bead Court.

All children of Kjerag must be ready to carry out Her will at any time.

Just like you did.

I remember... 'Jürgen the Confessor'.

When I was young, I was lost in the snowy mountains. Just as I was about to black out, a cleric saved me.

When we were on his burdenbeast, he took off his coat and wrapped it tight around me, telling me the story of Jürgen, and how Kjeragandr will save all the innocents...

Where are the other clerics imprisoned, my child?

Nearby.

Find an opportunity to free them. Let them escape, then save yourself.

Conflict brews atop the mountains. The Vine-Bead Court shall rebuild everything upon the ruins.

Allow me to tell you the end of the tale of Jürgen the Confessor.

Halt!

Don't force my hand, Great Elder. We are armed, and we will not allow anyone to leave!

...I <i>will</i> walk by you.

If you insist on using bows and crossbows to run counter to Her will, then aim at your own hearts. Try it.

You...

The guards who rushed over look at their comrades with raised eyebrows as they form two lines. Many of them have chosen to stow their weapons, opening up a narrow passage.

Adso lowers his head as he walks through the guards, leaving behind faint footprints in the snow.

'As the words left Jürgen's mouth, the entire gaol began to sway, as wind and snow entered through the cracks.'

'The walls around the imprisoned devotee were as rotten trees, shattering into dust as his body was enveloped in blinding light.'

'The soldiers were thrown to the ground, their weapons shattered, but they themselves were unharmed. They prostrated themselves at Jürgen's feet, weeping as they confessed their sins.'

'Jürgen the Confessor then walked the lands of the three clans, preaching this miracle the rest of his life.'

'And thus, Kjeragandr stretches out Her hand to those who call for Her, to enact Her justice.'

She has slowly lost all sensation in her joints as her shoes sink into the soft snow, step after step after step, yet her legs do not stop moving, even as she gulps lungfuls of frigid air.

Hah.... hah....

...Who's... Hah...

There is the vague shape of people in the distance. They draw close to her, but the lights flashing before her eyes make her unable to recognize them.

You...

We have been ordered to receive you, Madam Carolin.

Though there should be others with you here.

They got taken by the locals.

Then, are there any issues with the intelligence?

You can tell Her Grace that the power hiding behind Kjerag has disappeared.

I've observed and recorded the fall of some extraterrestrial object to the surface. The ensuing Catastrophe is further proof of my conclusion.

Whether it's the energy field theory or the Feranmut hypothesis, it explains the changes that happened to Kjerag.

Take this folder, all my research into several hypotheses about Kjerag is in it. You can—

What the—?!

I am terribly sorry, Madam.

Did you really believe you could hide your personal communications with the Maylander Foundation from us?

Her Grace has asked us to bring back only the data.

I believe she is very interested in the fact that Kjerag has lost its protection.

You—

Extraterrestrial objects, Feranmut legends...

There are still so many marvelous things we don't know the truth about across this great land.

But all you care about is deception, robbery and murder. Everything else is worthless to you.

If I didn't need you to escape from Kjerag...

I would never work with people like you!

I shall pass on your complaint to Her Grace, verbatim.

Goodbye, Madam. Thank you for your patriotic 'service'.

She sighs deeply, unsure of whom she is actually feeling sorry for.

A smoke grenade?

Enemy attack! Look for cover!

The night is enveloped in smoke and gunfire, leaving the snowfield in utter chaos.

At least, until a black off-roader courses out of the smoke. In its wake are the Victorian agents, futilely shooting at the vehicle as it drives into the distance.

Sorry to put you through that, Carolin.

Had to take our time so the Victorians wouldn't spot us.

Got all your stuff?

She lowers her head, pulling out a marked file on the extraterrestrial object from the various documents before handing it to the agent sitting in the front seat.

...So, when can I start my research?

No need to be so hasty, Miss. My boss wants to have a chat with you first. He's really interested in hearing what you're studying.

I think you'll be working with us for a long, long time.

Carolin nods her head, before she suddenly realizes something.

She never had the chance to actually hand over Victoria's 'Kjerag report'.

She rolls down the car window, heedless of the cold wind blowing in. She takes out the papers she so painstakingly wrote in Kjerag, one after the other, and throws them out the window with nary a moment's hesitation.

The paper is all the more white under the black night, like fresh snow falling upon the wilds.

They spin through the air, buoyed by cold wind and political maelstrom both.

Here's your things back, Victoria.