level_main_15-11_beg

We peruse and interpret the past and future of our civilization, as a monk seeks a revelation from his god.

Humans enjoy talking about the possible futures for their civilization, do they not?

At first, we flaunted what little vestige of truth we managed to grasp, and attempted to converse with the 'gods'.

We were answered with silence.

Then, we began to observe the fates of our own kind—

Some were less advanced than us, some slightly more so... in the end, what we learned was that death was the inevitable end of all the creations of nature.

And so humanity inferred that this was the revelation the gods never spoke.

In an instant, we thought we had grasped the truth of the universe.

We carefully 'monopolized' the revelation gained through sacrifice, and preached the inevitability of doom with so-called optimism.

'Death is the inevitable end of all the creations of nature. All we can do is to leave behind the truth before our doom.'

You've lived on that ship for some time, and come to know some adorable lifeforms. Do you agree with this assessment?

You don't agree with the Presence?

I respect them.

They were great people, but most of them were simply fools slightly smarter than the others.

Why are you asking me this? And... why have you brought me here?

We were in that corridor just a moment ago.

Here or there, it makes no difference.

You have too many questions, questions that this place can answer.

What is this place?

The graveyard of civilization's memory.

Towering statues made of unknown materials stand upon the vast expanse.

Ripples spread outwards in every direction, up towards the sky beyond the dark clouds, and down towards the grey-white ground.

Out in the vastness of the universe, civilization was born, like a drop of water falling into the ocean, leaving ripples in its wake.

They cross paths, love, hate, and eventually die.

The ripples of dead civilizations are forever etched upon this tombstone. Even after the bright stars of the forebears who inspired so many that came after them are long gone—

They still leave behind an incomparable impact on the universe. It is the ripples they left behind that form this land upon which we stand.

Their legacy fosters new civilizations, which in turn leave their own traces upon the universe.

But it seems... broken? Like a tree trunk snapped in half.

You're not the first to describe it that way.

Once, someone very important to me said the same.

An absolute, ultimate presence tirelessly reaps the branches that sprout from this poor trunk, yet we know nothing about It.

What you've shown me is like... a miracle...

You saved me... from disintegration...

...God.

'God'?

I'm just a humble linguist attempting to explain the universe.

My name is Priestess.

And, strictly speaking, I did not save you.

Your death has already occurred. I did not intervene in the process of matter being converted to information.

But material destruction is not true death. Information is not so easily erased, and your information was stored in Originium.

B-But I can think. I felt I was living when I was on the ship. All this vivid—

A stream of data repeated over and over.

I intentionally left behind fragments of history in order to observe our past lives.

So this is like a dream?

'Dream' is vague and subjective. Do not allow language to lead you to meaningless self-doubt, before you have touched its fundamental nature.

You may understand this as a snapshot from the past that I have recorded in the form of information.

But it's nothing more than a still frame. There is no future for it.

Then why am I here?

I saw you at the instant of your death.

Someone disturbed me. It was a coincidence, a whim of probability.

So... I'm not special.

Oh but you are, Hierda. You, and those like you, are very special.

Originium has shaped you into what you are. You have interacted with Originium in wondrous ways.

Your history and your civilization all exist because of Originium.

But Originium has also brought so much pain...

Yes. It was a mistake. Your existence was not part of the plan.

What?!

Do you mean that the people on Terra shouldn't exist?

No, you misunderstand.

Your civilization was born of probability. Just like you, standing here right now, it exists in time on an objective basis.

Born of probability, and lost to probability. It is the most basic rule of the universe.

The Cautus needs time to digest it all.

Originium brought destruction to her, but also consolation and infinite knowledge in this frozen time.

She feels lonely, but no pain. If there is one thing right now that could cause pain, it would be—

Terra... my home...

It was not blessed by God...

She turns around to look behind her.

The land stretches as far as the eye can see, rippling like mountains extending infinitely.

She cannot see the end, nor any trace of Terra.

But she knows that the land is just within reach, if she only stretched out her hand.

<i>Terra.</i>

Is it doomed...?

The 'god' looks up at the megastructure and does not answer.

Father Bishop...

Does that future you're always talking about really exist?

Doctor, be careful!

Originium activity in this area far exceeds Dr. Kal'tsit's estimations. Originium crystals are growing at a breakneck pace...

Plus those strange enemies that keep appearing—

Yet your attention is drawn to the Originium in front of you.

Every shard, every facet...

Reflects the same scene in your eyes—

I see...

Her silhouette appears on every facet.

There's someone next to her?!

I am curious about you, Hierda.

From here, I can observe everything of your world. You are the second being from this civilization to interact with me.

Do you still love your so-called 'great land'?

I think so... yes...

Even if the pain that it brings you is real and inexorable?

Yes...

Is this what concerns you?

I... I'm not sure what you mean.

Only praise for life and the indomitable will. Death has not overcome you.

You came to me in search of an answer regarding the future. We stand now before that answer—

One that cannot be described by language.

—What is it?!

Remember that absolute, ultimate presence I mentioned?

It was once thought to be light from a distant star.

The Cautus looks up almost instinctively. Dark clouds cover the sky, blanketing the plain in darkness.

Then, a faint light breaks through a crack in the clouds. Looking upon the light, masses of people cheer and exclaim.

The Cautus feels as though she were among those masses.

I'm witnessing—

History.

Then, the ray of light bursts into a rainbow spectrum, as though the universe were painting upon a black canvas.

In their last moments, the pious souls continued to pray to the mysterious blessing of the universe.

The people of reason, the scientists, they boarded their flying machines and flew into the light, hoping to touch the truth up close.

(There's no movement? Why isn't anything happening, now that they've gone into the light?)

The idealists, the conservatives, denounced the enemy for invading the space that had belonged to them from their first moment of sentience.

They brashly directed their most dangerous weapons towards the prismatic sky.

The gentle light accepted all, neither exploding nor fighting back.

The light followed its determined path, ignoring the agitated souls beneath, though chaos and death had already begun to spread amongst them.

W-What's happening?

Do you want to go into the light?

The Cautus feels her vision climb upwards, over the agitated crowd, over the burning mountains, over the dark clouds.

She can almost reach out and touch the rainbow light.

Weapons powerful enough to destroy an entire planet fly past her into the light without a sound. Ships that can sail the stars fall powerlessly to the ground.

They resisted.

They prayed.

They tried to sway the cold light with all things bright and beautiful that they had created over millennia—

But the light was unwavering, cold like deep space.

The light passed over the planet and left. All was silent.

The Cautus finds herself gazing into deep space, at the broken remains of the celestial body.

It is like the sight that the Presence was gazing at, that she was curious about, when she gazed upon the Presence.

It's... all gone... why?

From whence did the doom come? Why did it come? Did it leave? Where did it go? What happened to all the lives—

Then she sees it.

Only broken remains are left upon the ruined surface of the planet, when the light of the star once again shines upon it. The planetary fragments break through the bonds of gravity and scatter to infinite space.

It was once a flourishing civilization that marked those fragments.

No one could ever be prepared for It.

Even the wisest, most knowledgeable sages of this civilization had hoped for some premonition, some warning before the coming of the doom.

Unfortunately...

The Cautus witnessed the death of the gods, the powerlessness of the gods. For a moment, she even forgot how to fear.

Is this... the history that you experienced?

No. It's simply one of countless fragments that we captured.

This single glimpse could hardly compare to what I experienced for myself.

The answer that you seek is not yet complete. Listen to the sounds that emerge from the ruins.

The rocks that come from deep space—

Comets. Sometimes, they are the bringers of the seed of life; other times, they do little more than fill the silence of a dead planet.

Where do they come from?

Anywhere, perhaps even another destroyed planet, the marks of a lost civilization still etched upon it.

The gravity of the dead planet begins to draw in guests from deep space, and it begins to be made whole again.

Those ships floating in deep space—

Explorers, seekers, colonizers, perhaps even plunderers, coming from far away.

They, too, accelerate the evolution of civilization.

Do you mean that's what happened to Terra?

Your greed has gotten the better of your fear.

What you learn cannot be unlearned, Hierda. Having glimpsed a vestige of truth, are you willing to go back into the darkness of ignorance?

The Cautus continues to stand before the imposing 'gravestone'.

She touches the ripples upon it and trembles.

Every mark is the end of a civilization... only now do I truly feel—

Can I stay here and learn?

You have shown me the key to the answer. I have to comprehend all this knowledge on my own.

Even though this is only a fragment of time, frozen forever?

...Yes.

You're very much like us.

You may roam this place and anywhere on Rhodes Island freely, to seek the answer that you crave.

As for whether you want to stay here, or go back to the Terra that you loved so much...

I will respect whatever choice you make. We will meet again soon.

Y-You're leaving? Where are you going?

Someone has been waiting for me.

...For far too long.

Unauthorized 3rd-party plugin deleted. Default settings restored.

Expired administrator access detected. Intercepting...

Repair module self-diagnosis in progress...

Progress: ■ ■ ■

I've received your inquiry, Closure.

PRTS is denying all access requests. We've lost administrator permissions and we do not have the ability to retake PRTS.

Kal'tsit?!

Finally, an answer!

Where are you? The Doctor and Amiya are coming over to help!

Bad news. PRTS is taking over all equipment on the ship, including the engines.

I know. I'm fighting for Rhodes Island's last chance.

Closure, warn the Doctor and Amiya—

She's waking up.