level_main_14-18_beg

'Uni...verse'? What's a 'universe'?

No language that you are familiar with has such a word.

It is a concept far wider than the land and the sky. It is all of space and time, and everything contained within them.

Even the most arrogant of 'gods' are unable to claim mastery over it as a whole, because the word itself signifies infinity, as well as the possibility for constant change.

However, Originium is able to incorporate it in its entirety, all in finest detail, forming an 'Assimilated Universe' within—

Okay, stop.

In short, we got two things.

One, for some unknown reason, we were dragged into the Originium along with the airship—not that anybody knows how tiny little rocks can have this huge place inside of them.

Two, we're not dead, and we don't know how we're still alive inside this... 'universe' in the Originium, right?

...A reasonably accurate summation of the matter.

Eh? No reaction, not even a raised eyebrow?

W!

Did you just... throw a bomb into the sea?

What else would I throw?

I had to test the waters <i>somehow</i>. That bomb's as good as my hand, right?

The old hag said that we got stuck inside the Originium. Maybe I could have oh-so-conveniently blown a hole—

Look out!

—What the hell just happened?!

It was like... there was something pulling on me.

The yellow stuff down there is liquid Originium, right? What else could the bomb have blown up?

It would not have ignited. There is no energy present to fuel a reaction.

I cannot sense any Originium within this Originium sea.

...Perhaps I should phrase it differently. As all Originium outside this realm exists in a combination with other matter, so too must it abide by the laws of the external 'universe'.

But here, those laws are dictated by the Originium itself.

You're not making any more sense than the old hag.

We have entered a place that operates on its own grammar.

I can sense the... language contained within this ocean of Originium. Vast, boundless, without limit. As of yet, I have been unable to thoroughly analyze it.

Stop, Logos.

Do not attempt to comprehend this 'language' for now. We should not... disturb it.

Although it is highly likely that we are already within danger's sights, the fact that this ship is permitted to exist is proof enough that we are safe, at least for now.

Rhodes Island?;The ship and the Originium sea...

This Rhodes Island exists because of you, Dr. {@nickname}.

We should have been assimilated by the Originium and become part of the ocean. Thanks to you, we were not.

You have changed... No, redefined a portion of the law.

Under circumstances that you yourself could not perceive, you have used this 'language'.

The one I spoke earlier? I don't remember it.;Sometimes it's in my brain, sometimes it's not.

Hah, who would have thought you had that sort of thing in you? Don't tell me that those weird dioramas on the ship were all your dream or something?

Those 'heart-warming' illusions were... disgusting.

...;I didn't like them either.

...Hmph.

W turns her head, pondering as she looks ahead.

She has barely even glanced at you since you entered the Assimilated Universe.

The real question is, now that we've barged into the Originium, how do we get out?

Can this haunted ship take us somewhere?

Rhodes Island sails atop the aureate sea. It resembles a mirror of purest gold more than anything else, its surface unblemished, nary a ripple in sight.

A question suddenly comes to mind: are you really sailing?

The ocean's surface seems static. Everything does, really.

It's too quiet. I can't feel anything. Flowing emotions, rich memories... It's all faded away.

Dr. Kal'tsit, this is inside Originium, right? I don't understand. It's already devoured so much...

Cities destroyed by Catastrophe, people died of Oripathy... Shouldn't traces of all those lives be here in this sea?

Why is there nothing here?

Because this is the end.

Everything sealed away by the Originium is trapped in this unchanging, undying end.

Oh, how wonderful! A 'good' place where even the dead can't die. Not even the Laterans could think up of something so heavenly.

No wonder that there's no Sarkaz aboard the ship. How could a sweet, blissful place like this have devils like us?

No Sarkaz?

You might be right. Other than you and Logos, I haven't seen a single Sarkaz since we arrived.

The Sarkaz... They are closely connected with Originium, but where are they?

Did the ship ram into something?;Is there something on the water?!

'SIGHT'.

Those shadows are Sarkaz! They're—

—Marching.

The war eternal continues, no matter if it is on the battlefield outside, or in here. No matter if they are dead or alive.

Countless Sarkaz shadows appear above the surface of the sea.

Wendigos, Diαblos, Nachzehrers, Banshees, along with many ancient clans lost to time.

They grasp clubs and spears, or crossbows and greatswords. Some even bear witchcraft cannons on their backs.

The water is calm, but the many shadows form a torrent, surging forward.

Charge. Fight.

Forever without rest.

War.

The Sarkaz's war against everything, persisting through millennia, never ends.

This is where the myriad souls of the Sarkaz return.

'I see cities, devastated.'

'I see Originium, blanketing the land.'

Rhodes Island is straight ahead! Hang on!

(Panting heavily)

I—

Shining? What's wrong?!

...The door has been opened.

The distance between life and death is closer than ever now.

It is something that all Sarkaz can hear.

We need to survive this round of impacts! The airship's been eaten up by Originium, which means the Royal Court casters are distracted! This is our only chance. There's too much damage to the vertebrae—

Hoederer?

I can hear it...

Did the Feranmut speak to you again? What did it say?

No... It's something else...

...I can hear all of history's wars, happening at once.

Look, Vina! Is it just me, or did that big red thing above Londinium get even bigger?!

Not just bigger, the red's darkened now.

It's like the entire sky's turning into Originium...

Storm's not calming down, either.

The Sighs of Kings can't cover a range that wide. The Sarkaz will destroy the entire city, and far, far more besides.

Amiya...

You must make it in time.

The myriad souls bar our way.

Here, in this place where everything is stilled by Originium, only they continue to fight.

Everyone hears the low roars resounding above the golden sea.

The Sarkaz's war will never stop. The Sarkaz's anger will never end.

How interesting. Looks like a bunch of long-dead Sarkaz heroes are still fighting their asses off. I guess this is what they meant by 'a living hell'.

But why are they blocking us off...?

Hey, that thing in front of us, the 'tree' root, don't you guys think it looks like a tower?

You noticed it the moment you stepped atop the deck.

It stands tall in the middle of your field of vision, uniting the golden sea with the quiet sky above, yet not fitting in with either.

Is it really a tower?

It is taller than anything you can imagine.

Why is there a tower here in the Originium sea, where everything ends in stasis?

The answer springs forth unbidden.

...Babel.

The airship's goal was here all along.

She must be on top of the tower, guiding the myriad souls!

Indeed. She is waiting for us.

That tower is our only beacon in this featureless ocean.

All the answers we seek are where we started.

We will climb Babel and face her.

And then...

Amiya.

Yes?

I'd say I'm pretty clear-headed right now.

Making it all the way here... There's no way that I haven't figured out what I want to do.

There's still lots of people on the outside fighting their asses off. If we weren't so quick on the draw, I think we'd be seeing a few more familiar faces here among the dead heroes.

Hey, old hag, bring your little monster out to help us!

It's gonna be pretty rough, the way we're headed.

I... cannot do that. Mon3tr is unable to appear here, and I do not wish to arouse any unnecessary attention.

Grrr, another one of those reasons that you don't want to talk about?

Dr. {@nickname}, I am severely limited by the environment here, but it should have no influence on you.

I will need you to move the ship.

I've never really taken the helm before.;This is the deck, not the bridge...

You need not worry.

The heading of this Rhodes Island does not depend on your skill at the helm, nor on any machine or energy generator.

We are within Originium.

You will have noticed by now that you hold special significance to Originium. The reverse is very much the same. It is equally as irreplaceable to you.

I thought I wasn't supposed to know this.;I thought you wouldn't tell me this.

My silence has many reasons.

Frankly speaking, I still have reservations on whether or not I should be helping you retrieve this knowledge.

Because of the things I've done in the past...

I understand now.;You said that you hate me.

Hate, torment, anger. I cannot deny it.

At the time, I did not only lose Theresa.

I also lost someone that I once hoped I could trust.

...Me.;You felt disappointed.

I was very disappointed... in myself.

I was not completely aware of your 'changes'. Or rather, my preparations were insufficient to reverse the outcome.

We were able to glimpse the first rays of light of our goal, but Theresa's sudden departure extinguished the flame.

Once more we are plunged into deepest night. If we do not make the right choices this time, the darkness will be eternal.

Maybe you shouldn't be trusting me again.

...No. I should trust you.

I did worry that if I allowed you to regain your memories regarding Originium... it might bring about unforeseeable changes.

But over and over, you showed proof to me, to Amiya, to everyone, that my worries were unfounded.

The only thing I can say for certain is that we walk the same path. From Chernobog to Londinium, your experiences and your emotions have shaped who you are today.

And now—

You protected us, saved us from being devoured by the Originium and turned into complex flows of information.

You made Rhodes Island appear, and have afforded us the opportunity to continue on in this stillness.

Dr. {@nickname}, show us the way out, and find the right path for yourself.

The direction that our future takes, where Rhodes Island heads next... It is all up to you now.

Alright.;...;I knew that all along.

Rhodes Island—

Advance.

You feel the movement of the ship beneath your feet.

Passing through the Originium sea. Passing through the army of the myriad souls.

The tower gets ever closer.

Why's the sea so choppy all of a sudden?

The myriad souls are affecting the surrounding environment.

The Assimilated Universe... is no longer stable.

It's hard to move any further.;The deceased Sarkaz are blocking our way.

The myriad souls are angered.

They... They're all looking this way.

Sure, let them gawk.

They can watch me step on their heads! Gonna run right over them!

A great wave resembling a palm swats at the tiny Rhodes Island.

W grins and laughs.

She takes a running leap into the wave.

W!

W disappears into the maelstrom in an instant.

But in the next, her laughter rings from within the golden mist.

Haha! I knew it!

That thing isn't part of the Originium sea! I can blow it open!

I never thought—I would get to open up—

BABEL!

The sounds of destruction ring out, from quiet cracking to roaring collapse.

The great pillar to the sky should not have been damaged by such tiny bombs, but some of its roots peel back, hanging down towards the miniscule people aboard the ship, providing a route from the deck to the base of the tower.

Let's go! Quickly!

You climb the fallen structures with all haste.

To your surprise, the white material feels soft and pliant, almost like some sort of... cloth.

Amiya—

Up here!;I've got you.

Amiya touches the 'roots' lightly.

In an instant, countless hands stretch towards her. From the sea, from atop the tower, from the void.

Close your eyes, Amiya.

Close your eyes...

The King spurs them, the King drives them, the King enslaves them.

The King rules us, the King leads us, the King inspires us.

You have arrived.

You are among us.

The myriad souls...

The Originium sea is close to boiling.

The myriad souls thirst for the King of Sarkaz. The myriad souls wish to force the King of Sarkaz to stay.

Go on ahead, Amiya.

Go and see Her Highness. Obtain the answers you seek, and overcome them.

Logos...?

I also miss Her Highness.

But we have long since bid farewell to her.

When Babel still yet roamed the earth, the first circle of our fellows vowed to dedicate our lives in service of our ideals. Her Highness and I were no exception.

As for the voices of the myriad souls... I will respond.

I have been waiting for this moment, ever since I sang my first elegy.

The will of the myriad souls is a frothing sea, billowing furiously.

Their hands clench swords. Their hands leash Feranmuts. Their hands command a thousand armies.

Their heads bear identical crowns.

They are the lords of the Sarkaz.

They are the eternal existence of the Sarkaz.

There are no roads that we have not walked, no hardships we have not shouldered.

You have not the strength to match us.

You have not the fearlessness to match us.

They examine, they interrogate.

Countless fleeting emotions condense into a raging swell, enough to wash away any will of any individual.

But through a hundred crashing, surging waves, then a thousand, then a million, the one before them stands firm.

The young Sarkaz lifts his bone pen, pointing it towards all the nameless Kings of Sarkaz.

He needs no words.

His curses are his answer.