Ezra: So, did Ms. Desert Flannel go to the hospital to visit Mr. Makower?
Spathodea: Yeah! She bought all the magazines with that photo and brought them to ... Oh, wait, I guess you don't know the story between Desert Flannel and Makower.
Ezra: No idea. I was in my room pondering what happened that day.
Spathodea: ...
Ezra: ...
Desert Flannel: Don't, don't look at me like that! I've told you I will never repeat that story again!
Ezra: OK, I guess it doesn't matter if I never had the chance of hearing it. It's just a story.
It is very hard to disappoint a child like that.
Throwing her hands in the air, Desert Flannel declares her defeat. She makes some space and pats the seat beside her.
Desert Flannel: Fine! I will, I will tell it to you! Come over here, kid.
Ezra: You are so kind!
Ezra sits beside Desert Flannel and waits like a quiet kitten.
Desert Flannel: You must all know that I have many jobs. These part-time jobs eat away most of my time, but the clients who gave me these jobs never let me go home empty-handed.
Desert Flannel: If you were me, you'd know that … if you are willing enough to take as many jobs as possible, you'd meet some strange clients.
Desert Flannel: Like going to a School Day pretending to be someone's mom, or ...
Desert Flannel: Braiding the hair of a punk hound in 302 pigtails for a blind man.
Desert Flannel: Or, waiting for a rare bird at midnight, carrying a camera which was expensive enough to pay for my apartment.
Ezra: I know. Sometimes, my colleagues in Laplace would also hire others to help collect information they need.
Ezra: But if we have the time, most of us would prefer to take a walk in the forest and try our luck.
Desert Flannel: Yes, that's exactly what my client said.
Desert Flannel: He paid me well for the job, so generous that I stared at the dark and waited for that Pink Torch Hummingbird to show up, despite my bloodshot eyes.
Desert Flannel: One day, two days, and three days passed.
Desert Flannel: I didn't even see anything like it.
Desert Flannel: But I saw a wonder beast, just as extraordinary as the Hummingbird.
Pausing for a second, Desert Flannel takes a deep breath.
Desert Flannel: A ... Pink Glittering Platypus.
Ezra: Pink Glittering Platypus?
Desert Flannel: It's pink, and it's glittering, and who knows whether Pink Torch Hummingbird is a strange nickname for that platypus? Of course, I have to take a picture of it.
Desert Flannel: But you know, a bird lover won't need the picture of a platypus.
Desert Flannel: So I sold it to Kidding Fun, a children's magazine. What happened next should be very evident to you, if you read enough bad novels.
Ezra: Is, is that ...?
Desert Flannel: Yes, that's right. That platypus was Makower, who took the Transformation Potion.
Ezra: Ah, but why would he do that?
Desert Flannel: Perhaps he was looking for some fun, or maybe it was an accident. Anyway, according to him, someone pulled out a prank on him, and it was definitely not his own choosing.
Desert Flannel: He quit his job the moment that picture was published.
Desert Flannel: He left his friends and family, and became a revenger, striving to put me into a miserable situation, just like what he has gone through.
Desert Flannel: So, this time, after I made this fortune, I bought the apartment, and every copy of that issue of the magazine.
Ezra: Mmm. Were you planning to sell them all to Mr. Makower?
Desert Flannel: No, of course not!
Desert Flannel: Who do you think I am? I picked him up at the hospital, took him somewhere quiet, and burnt all the magazines in front of him.
Desert Flannel: He was, oh my gosh, crying so loud! Heh-heh, that was pleasant to hear.
On the other side of the curtain, a young female voice interrupts the conversation.
Staff: Ms. Desert Flannel, Ms. Spathodea, and Mr. Ezra, the interview is ready to start. Please follow me to the stage!
Ezra: Ah! Yes! In a minute!
The kids move before Desert Flannel does. Spathodea gets closer to Ezra and asks a question quietly.
Spathodea: Did you get the ending of the story?
Ezra: No, not really.
Spathodea: Hah! So there IS something neither arcanists nor humans can understand!
Ezra: Perhaps we can ask Vertin later. She's a bit older than us, but she's not here today.
Ezra: I think she went to the Stadium with Ms. Ulu.
Ulu: ...
Ulu: The gold-swallowing crowd, the apocalyptic hedonism, and the adventure on the island of numbers ...
Ulu: So this is what the world has become when I was in slumber for all these years ...
Ulu: I have experienced countless rains, and have even seen the rainbow above Uluru, but I've never seen anything like the "Storm" ...
The flame lets out a contented sigh.
Ulu: I can't believe ... it just changed everything so easily.
Vertin: But the Uluru Stadium is still here.
Vertin: I know there are spots with mysterious power in this world. They can provide a slim chance of survival in the "Storm."
Vertin: And the Stadium is exactly one of them. Such a place ... will be desired by different forces one day. It's just a matter of time.
Ulu: Like the Manus Vindictae you talked about. To them, the Uluru Stadium is like a piece of meat to a hungry wolf.
Vertin: That's right.
Vertin: The Foundation has already launched the Uluru Guarding Project. It will be a long-term mission and involves a heavy workload, and the Australia branch doesn't have enough manpower for it.
Vertin: Fortunately, a lot of people went to the visitor window of the branch.
Ulu: They are ... worried about the Stadium?
Vertin: Yes, a lot.
Vertin: They volunteered to station here to protect it, even at the cost of their own time and effort.
Vertin: They have built the Uluru Guardians which consists of 31 arcanists and 29 humans. There are doctors, writers, taxi drivers, newsstand owners, and so on.
Vertin: And they are all among the audience of the Games.
Ulu: Heh.
Ulu: You made it, child.
Ulu: This is indeed a brand new beginning.
Vertin: That's why I want to keep it here.
The giant rock which the Bunyip turned into has become warm on the red soil of Uluru.
No more wet, cold, question, or doubt.
The strokes carved out by gravel and fire run down from the Bunyip's spine to both sides of its body. At the end of each ridge, words are inscribed, turning the rock into a monument.
Vertin: "We shall run in the name of sportsmanship."
Ulu: "We shall walk in the original form of men."
Ulu&Vertin: "We shall compete against each other, not for victory but for participation."
Ulu&Vertin: By both humans and arcanists.
Vertin: No matter how many times the Storm reshapes the world from top to bottom ... No matter how the times or the lifestyle change ... No matter how ignorant people become ... Whenever they open the gate to the Uluru Stadium again, they will remember the spirit and faith it has been conveying. Things will change in the unstoppable river of time, yet the Uluru Stadium shall remain forever.
