level_st_14-01

'Not every meeting has a beautiful ending, Amiya.'

'A lot of stories end suddenly. A lot of stories keep us tossing and turning in our beds. And some stories end... with a long, long sigh.'

'In a wilderness without end, people meet and go their separate ways. But at the crucial moment when we cross paths...'

'No one knows if we should really be saying such solemn goodbyes.'

Come in.

Theresa, you're back!

Amiya?

What's the matter? Look what time it is. You should be in bed, if you don't want Kal'tsit getting angry with you.

I know, but... I can't sleep.

Want me to sleep with you?

I-It's okay! If you still have work to do, I—

You've been waiting for me all day, haven't you? Did something happen?

Nope! I... Everyone's been very nice to me, and I'm keeping up with my homework, too. I've finished all the assignments Dr. Kal'tsit gave me!

But...

I know you've been really busy and I shouldn't bother you, but... I don't know why... I really wanted to see you today.

Is that right?

Come, Amiya. I'm here.

Theresa kneels down and hugs Amiya.

I'm here for you now.

Alright.

I... I saw you standing here, waiting by yourself while everybody else was gone for so, so long... I still remember the look on your face. I don't get it...

Are you worried about something? Isn't everyone saying we're about to win?

Yes, there's always good news.

Our fighters captured another town. We advanced our position once more... Kazdel, our home, is closer than ever.

But...

Amiya, Babel still has a very long journey ahead of us. Our goal is so far away... I don't actually even know if we're still sailing toward our original destination.

Theresa lets out a brief sigh and looks into the distance. Amiya follows Theresa's gaze, but finds nothing.

Babel does not exist to win <i>victories.</i> It never has.

Victories and scars go hand-in-hand, and... those scars are far more difficult than we ever anticipated to heal.

Or rather... Can they even be healed?

Theresa's voice is very soft, almost like a dream melted away in water. As a cloud of mist rises, the brief, momentary smile that she had before now seems distant and hazy.

The young Cautus girl thinks that, for a moment or two, the woman holding her hand all this time almost seemed to have disappeared into the mist herself.

And so Amiya makes the effort to stand on her tiptoes and stretches her hand out. The young girl's soft fingertips touch the forehead between the eyes of the King of Sarkaz; she tries to smooth those knitted brows.

They can... They will.

Theresa, I still remember what you told me.

'Perhaps, one day... We'll be able to let everyone on this vast land fall into peaceful slumber.'

Right. That includes you... and me.

Go, Amiya. We have lots of time to talk about the future, but if you stay up all night, you won't be getting any taller.

What are you going to do if you're still a teeny tiny bean by the time Rhodes Island is proudly sailing across the vast lands?

*whimper*...

If I... If I point my ears up, I'll look taller, won't I?

Pff... Haha...

You really don't want to go back to your room, don't you?

I-I'm not being naughty! I'm just—

Alright, let's not tell Kal'tsit, then. You can stay a little longer.

It's been a while since I told you a story, hasn't it?

It's okay. I still remember all the stories you told me!

'A long time ago, there was a great, big desert and a tiny, little doll made of sackcloth. The little puppet swore he would cross the desert to find the legendary Plains of Hope...'

But you've never told me how the story ends—

Oh, that one, huh...?

There were a lot of scary things out there in the desert. If I were to tell you, you'd never sleep again.

I'm not scared of them. Besides, with you telling the story, I'm sure it'll have a nice ending.

Alright.

The desert...

It was so vast and wide, like there was no end to it.

Our little puppet had been through many great adventures, and at last, he made it. His goal was right in front of him. The Plains of Hope...

What were the plains like?

Hm... The kind of place that anyone would like to call home.

The kind of place with all the carrot pies I could eat? With everybody on the landship there, too?

Maybe.

But things are never that easy in these stories. He still had to overcome the last obstacle that stood in his way.

The desert was very cold, and the wind there never stopped. In the light of the twin moons, there seemed to be some black cloaked shadows whispering to themselves, but the moment he looked for them, they disappeared.

What were the black cloaked shadows?

They were the echoes of the oldest despair and sadness. If they catch you, you'll never escape them.

The shadows whispered among themselves and laid trap after trap to stop the puppet...

The black-cloaked shadows didn't want to let the puppet make it any further. They did everything they could to try to get him to turn around.

Because if the puppet made it through the desert, hope would start to spread their way, and they would disappear.

But the puppet didn't know that. His goal never once changed.

The puppet made it past their traps and foiled their plans. All the tricks they had up their sleeves had failed. They were furious, and they decided they weren't going to hide anymore. They were going to duke it out with the puppet and fight him to the death.

When he saw the shadows rushing toward him, the puppet took out a long spear made of a needle and some threads. Then, he—

Theresa, why did they become the echoes of despair and sadness?

Well, about that...

Did they catch Oripathy? And the pain kept them up at night?

Then, maybe the puppet could cure them? Just like what you and Dr. Kal'tsit want to do.

Cure them?

If the puppet cured them and turned them into... hm... happy and peaceful shadows, then everybody could go to the Plains of Hope together, right?

Were they born baddies who liked to scare people?

No, dear, of course not.

The puppet found out that... they all had wounds on their bodies. It was the wounds that turned them into who they were.

Couldn't he fix them up with his needle and thread? Just like what you always do!

Maybe... Perhaps it's worth a try.

(Yawns)

Sleepy?

N-No, I'm not! Did he do it?!

The puppet tried over and over. The stitches were thick and ugly. The black-cloaked shadows were livid.

Wh-What happened next...?

Maybe... peace and happiness don't really come so easily, but in the end, they decided to let the puppet go.

The black-cloaked shadows watched the puppet walk into the distance. They decided they'd let the puppet give it a shot, but... a big river stood before him.

He didn't even know how wide it was. All he knew was that he couldn't see the other side of the river.

He knew that the Plains of Hope were on the other side, but there weren't any boats nearby. There wasn't even a decently sized frond.

'What do I do now?' The puppet thought to himself, and he decided to see if he could swim across.

But... he's a... cloth puppet...

Right, he was made of cloth. If he got wet, he would only get heavier and heavier until he sank to the bottom of the river.

But if he stopped here, his journey would have been for nothing.

He leapt into the water and found that the river was cold and salty, like tears.

Apparently... a lot of people across the lands wanted to go to those plains, but not one of them succeeded.

It was their tears that formed this river. The puppet finally understood just how many people shed tears over this.

Zzz...

The puppet swam and swam. He felt his body slowly soaking up the tears.

Did the other side of the river really exist? Perhaps the shadows were right. It was called the 'Plains of Hope' because no one could truly make it there.

People speak different languages, and their hearts are not connected.

Home. <i>Home.</i>

But a river meant that there must also be a source to return to.

Sleep soundly, Amiya.

Good night.

Amiya has no idea how she got back to her room. That night, she slept very soundly.

Did the puppet make it across the shore? What happened in the end?

A ravine suddenly appeared. Just like that, the two sides have lost contact.

Amiya?

Ah! Doctor, when did you get back?

Is everyone waiting for me? I'm sorry. I'll just need a minute...

Good job with the battle.;You did well during the battle.

Yeah!

It's okay, Doctor. I'm all ready.

Let's head over there together.

We're about ready for departure. Every one of us has to leave Brentwood. Good thing these bones are large enough for us all to fit.

The Military Commission must already have caught wind that we've taken control of the town and the Lifebone. It goes without saying that the skeleton is of tremendous importance.

Their counter-offensive might already be on the way. Perhaps the Sarkaz are watching our every move as we speak.

Ever since their rapid tactical unit, the Witchling, took to the skies... it's always felt like somebody's been watching us in the mist. It's unnerving.

The battle will only get more dangerous from here on out.

We all know that. The Exemplars will not give up their counter-offensive on Londinium. We have no other choice.

Victoria's people have endured this long enough already.

Good thing we seized the skeleton. Under ideal conditions, it will serve as a temporary stronghold. The wounded and civilians will also get to settle down a little.

Besides, if what Hoederer said is true, it can teleport anywhere, although it might make the users nauseous.

This is indeed some much appreciated help, but something is bothering me...

Why wouldn't the Military Commission defend such an important transport to the death?

Perhaps they gave up because of the pressure of the battlefield, or perhaps Duq'arael... the Sanguinarch underestimated his enemies...

But it's more likely that their plan in Londinium has already reached a stage where... they can't afford to worry about anything happening outside.

The Sanguinarch still completed his final ritual. That may be exactly why they turned their gaze not to the Lifebone, but somewhere else.

Hoederer has finished negotiating with the consciousness left in the skeleton. It will... yes... 'listen to our proposal.' With its help, we will be able to return to the battlefield at any moment.

Most importantly, it gave us an opportunity to get close to the airship and the Shard.

If we make use of this trump card well... Just maybe, we'll be able to mount an airborne assault on Central Londinium.

Take out their headquarters directly. Good. I like that.

The area around the Shard is heavily guarded, and my guess is that the Military Commission's airship won't let us hover over their heads without a fight.

All we can do is find an opening for our strike team to enter, and as soon as they've made it in, we'll have the Lifebone depart.

That means the strike team can't retreat.

But at the same time, we still have to get to the bottom of what's been bothering Amiya: What exactly are the Sarkaz planning?

And how to foil their little tricks.

We won't be able to take the Shard with this little time by ourselves, but... we still have friends inside that massive city. We need to get in touch with them.

According to our intelligence, there likely aren't many combatants stationed inside the Shard.

Based on my experience fighting their commander, if Theresis... Amiya, what would you say our chances are?

No, we should avoid a direct confrontation with him at all costs. No one is strong enough to singlehandedly defeat Theresis.

Besides, our greatest threat right now is not a single powerful Sarkaz hero. Rather, it is their ambition to see their plans come to fruition.

We will only be able to end this war quickly by stopping it from happening.

A few squads on their own can't end a war. We still need the Victorian military.

It's true that the Duke of Windermere perishing on the front lines is beyond what any of us might have...

Oh.

Forgive me... Lady Delphine.

Standing beside you now is an intelligence officer in the service of Duke Windermere, not her daughter.

Pay me no mind.

The Duke of Windermere's untimely passing has disrupted the fragile balance on the outskirts of Londinium. They are on the brink of war.

Heh, until a few weeks ago, I was still under the impression that if the dukes were to put their minds to it and attack Londinium together, a Sarkaz defeat would have been all but assured.

This will be a decisive battle, one far worse than what any of the bigwigs have been anticipating.

I'd like to say they wished this upon themselves, but it's the frontline soldiers and innocent citizens who are suffering right now.

So, when the time comes... who's going to win? Us, the Exemplars, or the dukes?

Uh, sorry, I guess I shouldn't be asking that before an operation?

It's fine. I know what it is you're worried about.

But there's no need to worry. A great many people stood up, raised their heads, and woke from their dreams because of this calamity, whether willingly or forced.

You are far from the only ones.

We need to focus on the problem at hand: How to break through the battlefield for our Londinium counter-offensive, as well as how to stop the Shard's strikes.

It won't be easy.;The next step in the Sarkaz plan most likely has to do with Originium.

It's very likely that they will apply ancient Sarkaz research on Originium.;We don't have time. We need to decide on a route for our advance.

Taking the battlefield head-on is our one and only choice.

We received a transmission indicating we have several Rhodes Island support teams on the way.

There are many things we will only be able to accomplish here as Rhodes Island.

I will command their operation.;I will see our strategy executed flawlessly.

And put this crisis behind us.

It seems none of us have any objections. That being the case...

Everyone turns to Amiya.

Suddenly, you feel a hint of relief, gratification, excitement, and pride.

After all, you are standing right beside her.

This war has come to a head, and Theresis intends to use some more decisive and forceful means to tear Victoria to shreds.

This has nothing to do with whether the Sarkaz truly have a right to revenge. It has nothing to do with whether the nobles may bear this heavy burden for Victoria.

If we solve all our problems by destroying our enemies, then this land, plagued by war from the beginning, has no hope.

The Confessarii and Theresis are there, at the heart of Londinium, toppling this empire standing on shaky ground.

I will go to them. And I will stop them.

For <i>that</i> future, and for the future of all.

Isn't a big gap like this a waste?

I got some real juicy explosives from Closure, enough to pack every corner of this place full.

Hah, and they're still cooking up stupid ideas like mounting an attack on Londinium. This is the <i>Military Commission</i> we're talking about. Who knows what tricks Theresis's got up his sleeve?

So?

Bomb the place, straight up.

Heh, why do you think the Military Commission went through all that trouble to hide this skeleton, instead of treating it as a second airship?

This thing is fragile. It's only thanks to the witchcraft device that we can communicate with the Feranmut's lingering breath of life. An attack, no matter how weak, could spell the end of it.

You think I'm talking about dropping bombs out of it? I'm saying let's make <i>it</i> the bomb.

A bomb that can fly just about anywhere it wants, that can fly right into Theresis's face at any moment. The perfect bomb.

What? You're still thinking about letting it take us back to Kazdel? If we don't deal with Theresis, we aren't going anywhere.

Let's take the simplest path to solving our problems here.

*sigh*.

Got something to share with the class?

Nothing at all, but I didn't expect to see you so tense.

Should I teach you a few deep breathing techniques?

Huh?

Whatever, W. Get in the right frame of mind for this operation. Otherwise, no amount of explosives is going to fix what's going on in your head.

That just means we're gonna need even more bombs.

If you say so.

Phew...

Ines.

What?

Remember when we ran into that Lich the other day...? Never mind. Forget it—

You're wondering whether the Theresa out there's real or not again, aren't you?

Hmph, enough of that already. I'm not the one you need to convince.

I wasn't the one who called her a fake first either.

Ugh... Did I ever tell you your Arts are disgusting?

I didn't need to read your shadow. You've been pretty anxious for a while now.

What will you do, if you run into her again?

I told you. It's a fake. I'm gonna kill it and be done with this.

And what if it's not?

Then I'll rescue her and get to the bottom of everything.

That's Theresa.

I know.

I think you don't. You haven't figured out how to treat Theresa, how to handle an... <i>enemy leader.</i>

That's a taboo, and you know it far better than I do.

*Sarkaz expletive*, Ines. You know what pisses me off the most?

I remember a lot of stuff. I remember the crystal on the head of the old fart who taught me how to make explosives. I remember the prices on your heads...

I remember how Her Highness wrestled with that door, and how Kal'tsit once got her hair caught in the same door.

I remember all these things that don't fucking matter!

...But I don't remember—

I can't for the life of me remember when the last time I saw her was, or even... what we talked about.

Yeah, yeah, I barely ever had a normal conversation with her.

There were so many of us on the ship. I was small potatoes, and she was Babel's chairman. It was probably a joke, some silly complaint or nagging—

But it definitely wasn't... a goodbye.

This time, I'll make up for that and say it. Then, I won't forget.

Anyways... I've gotta get my mercs checking over their equipment. This is gonna be one hell of a job.

Whatever you say.

But if your legs give out on you and you need somebody to give you a good kick in the ass, you know who to call.

Yeah.

This nightmare has gone on long enough. We should be looking straight ahead.

All preparations are complete. The airship is ready to take flight.

Yes.

It will all be over soon.

Come, walk with me one last time, Theresis.

Very well...

The Military Commission of Kazdel has secretly constructed airship docks just like this one in the support layers of several sectors throughout Londinium. This is the largest among them, and it is where the airship was born.

The ship is seen as a terrifying weapon of war, a herald of destruction, and a flying fortress.

But very few are aware of the original intent behind the airship's construction. It is to uncover a buried secret...

And, beyond that, it is to break free of an eternal shackle.

The brother and sister are walking in the great ship dock, down a long passageway, where every Sarkaz they pass stops and greets the two of them.

When was the last time they had a nice walk like this together? Thinking about it, compared to the amount of time they have spent together, the days that have passed is nothing.

But they were also long enough.

What's on your mind, Theresa?

I suddenly remembered that when Kazdel was rebuilt into a nomadic city, we stood next to each other on the city walls, shoulder-to-shoulder, just like this.

It was supposed to be a happy day, but then it rained.

Some said it was a bad omen, but I still remember how the Soul Furnace's flames looked all the brighter in the rain.

And there's more. I'm suddenly remembering so, so much... It's been too long.

It has been too long indeed.

From Kazdel to Kazdel... our goal lies right before us. There is but one last step in our plan.

Those who walk after us will find a great city standing tall upon this land, and we Sarkaz will do as we wish, seizing control of our own fate.

I need you.

Yes... I know.

The warriors who once firmly believed in your path, the girl who is called the King of Sarkaz... They've all come before you now.

Of course they came. I've always believed they would.

Have you decided how you will confront them?

I've never once been confused, but... I had hoped this day would take longer to arrive. Now that it's come to this, I actually feel...

I underestimated those I should have had faith in.

Theresis, I'm delighted.

I'm delighted that even after we made this decision, they are still willing to stand up against us.

They are decisive and strong, and they are growing at an unimaginable pace. Perhaps they will make their way to you in the end.

They may be much stronger now than the woman I was... the one who couldn't accomplish anything.

I'm looking forward to it.

Then... It's time for me to leave, too.

Theresa steps onto the airship's gangway, while Theresis remains where he stands, quietly watching her.

Theresa.

This time, we should bid each other a proper farewell.

Theresa reaches her hand out and smooths out the creases on Theresis's cloak.

...(Ancient Sarkaz language) Goodbye.

(Ancient Sarkaz language) Goodbye.

The silence lasts until the steel door closes and its thick shadow shrouds the two of them.

They say nothing more.

The pulsing of the myriad souls is ceaseless. Theresa lightly closes her eyes to bear with its surge.

The endless murmurs are like the tide. It exhausts, it drags those within it ever downward, and it suffocates.

Perhaps within it once existed brief moments of happiness or the occasional delight... but there is simply too much pain... so much that the pain permeates every word and sentence.

O myriad souls... Even though I have almost completely exhausted myself, I still cannot see the other side.

Shattered hearts abound on these lands.

And so, even if I have only grief at my disposal... even if my body was wrought of tears...

Be my oar, and be my ark.

Let tears carry tears, and let suffering lift up suffering.

It's time that we... set sail.

Logos is examining the bone whistle in his hands. He knows every pattern carved into it and every wear and tear on its surface.

He remembers receiving this from his mother when he was still a small child. Its sound was not nearly as sonorous and vivid as it is now.

So this is a Banshee's bone whistle. It's my first time seeing the real thing.

Banshees are a rare sight among mercenaries to begin with, much less one with a bone whistle.

That said, I've heard plenty of stories about bone whistle—

It's a symbol of terror. Its sound foretells death's pursuit.

The Banshees portend death, and willingly serve as the embodiment of death and danger.

But I rarely ever saw you use the whistle, not at Babel all those years ago or at Rhodes Island now.

The Vampire... accused you of rejecting the power of your bloodline.

It already sounded. It need not sound again.

Metaphors about death itself are a dime a dozen, but what comes <i>after</i> death?

True, the Banshees portend death, but nothing more.

If death wasn't the end of all beings and there was more than nothingness after the toll of the death knell, then this foretelling would have been meaningless.

That's why we set down the bone whistles for bone pens.

New meaning is born from the pens' tips, while the past... is only recorded by the same tips.

This is why we stand together now, Hoederer.

Is that right?

Yes, toward the other side of death. Rebirth.

It matters not what Theresis intends to accomplish. This war will not and cannot be allowed to develop into a raging fire that destroys the Sarkaz, as history has seen countless times before.

Having burned for so long, this hatred cannot be easily extinguished, but we can stop it from engulfing all souls upon these lands.

That includes each and every race there is.

Dr. {@nickname}, hold on tight.

The final battle... is able to begin.

The Feranmut's skeleton wriggles its body and once again dives straight into history.

The fragments of time are like bubbles in a muddled stream. After they break up, the remains are still vague and indistinct.

Amiya feels the rippling spacetime rushing past her. You look at her and see her eyelashes twitching. What exactly does she see?

Perhaps nothing more than reflections passing by, or fleeting hallucinations.

The distance between memories and history is always much longer than we expect.

Countless sceneries, both ancient and modern, sweep by under the Feranmut's frame.

Those who find themselves within are astonished by this advancement or regression of times, the disasters that unfold before them, and the happiness in their hands...

But when looking upon them from high above, perhaps these sights have never actually changed.

Then, the illusion grows much stranger and more twisted.

A seed is rapaciously absorbing nutrients. It writhes, whimpers, trying to tear away all fabricated representation.

This creation, far beyond human comprehension, waits silently. The slightest movement is enough to rend the continent and allow the crystals to proliferate.

No, this isn't right.

This isn't the Feranmut's power!

The sky... The entire sky is burning red!

The Lifebone is out of control. It's been pulled off its original course!

Are we under attack?

Prepare to meet the enemy!;Ready damage control!

Guard the entrances to all cabins! Watch for attacking aircraft!

We're preparing anti-boarding measures. All non-combatants, retreat to your shelters!

Mercs, fan out! Don't let any drooling morons onto the ship!

Any damage reports?

I'm checking, but—What's going on? This makes no sense!

The sensors I set up are all reading normal. The skeleton's not damaged at all!

I just got word from the observation post. They've spotted no enemies!

We're losing altitude! I can't control it!

What the *Sarkaz expletive* is happening?

Isn't this skeleton your best friend, Hoederer? Get it to chill out!

Hoederer, can you adjust the course at all? We mustn't land in the center of the battlefield!

I'm trying!

Buckle up, everybody. I don't want anyone getting flung out through the gaps in the bones!

I've sent out all my drones to try to pull the Feranmut's bones back and reduce the impact of the crash!

Don't get your hopes up, though!

Our descent isn't slowing. Going by the current speed...

We'll hit the ground very soon.

'The meaning of language shall grant us wings.'

'I command these words to lift this weight.'

It's working—

Keep chanting your incantations, Banshee. Hoederer, keep steering us north!

There's a valley there. We should fit right in!

I'm on it, but my link with the Feranmut is fading. I can't control it much longer!

Mon3tr.

(Excited howling)

Protect the Doctor. Prepare for impact.

(Joyful howling)

This isn't exactly comfy.;...;Its claws are digging into me!

Calm down, Doctor. You'll be fine.

Amiya, how are things going over—

All the wounded and civilians have been relocated. Feist and Rockrock are working on getting the transport secured.

Got it. Ines, my mercs have anything to say?

They're all here with me, working on getting some witchcraft going.

We'll need a little more time. We should be able to withstand half of the impact's force.

Tell Hoederer these bones won't shatter here.

The valley's in sight. Our angle's not quite there yet. We need to turn left by another twenty degrees!

Last chance for adjustments!

Twenty degrees, I'm certain of it!

All hands, brace for impact!

The rest comes down to luck!

Ten seconds to impact!

Five, four, three—

Two!

One!