Selone: I-I'm confused, Toa. If these disbelievers are a danger to our vengeance, why are we only locking them up? Shouldn't we just toss them overboard?
Toa: T-The chief wants Fatutu to decide how to deal with them! A test of her allegiance and her conviction.
Toa: After she puts on the mask, of course.
Selone: ...
Toa: You're afraid, Selone. Don't be. The trial isn't difficult. I see things so clearly now.
Selone: I don't know, Toa.
Selone: I trust in Kamuta's leadership, but still ...
Toa: Just like always. You're waiting for everyone else to test the water before you jump.
Selone: I-I just feel that there's something wrong.
Selone: You say you're not afraid, Toa, but I hear your chains clinking. You're shaking, too.
Toa: Shut up! That's only because we're in a freezer!
A familiar place.
Regulus: Blimey, locked up again. At this rate, I'll have my "imprisoned on all seven continents" bingo card before I turn 20. It's an honest bet I've spent more time behind bars than my own home.
Sonetto: I wasn't aware that you had a home, beyond the ship, I mean.
Regulus: Course I do, love! The whole of London is my home!
Regulus: I've walked its streets! I've inspired its people! I fought for its music! Its spirit's stamped on my very soul!
She paces back and forth in the cell as she passionately proclaims her cause.
Rebellious artists often fall into such radical expressions.
Regulus: And jolly old London will always have a harbor open for this captain and her APPLe as a token of—wait, Barcarola, what are you doing here?!
A familiar silhouette appears in the prison door window.
Regulus: Well, I suppose those tinheads aren't the type to appreciate a true artist. Jealous of our talents, no doubt.
Toa: Ms. Grace said to give you special treatment, Barcarola. But I warn you, these prisoners are ours to deal with. So don't get any ideas!
Regulus: What?!
Regulus: Barcarola, don't tell me you're siding with these tone-deaf goons!
The door creaks open, and Regulus stumbles back a few steps.
What greets her isn't the familiar sweetheart of the ship, nor the elegant musician, but a tear-streaked, almost disheveled and helpless face of a young girl.
Regulus: ...!
Barcarola: I'm just confused. It seems like there's only one way forward, but ...
Barcarola: The captain said that only those who put on the mask have a chance to survive the "Storm."
Barcarola: And that everyone else, the unbelievers, the forsaken ... will vanish.
Vertin: ...
Barcarola: Ms. Vertin.
Barcarola: Tell me the truth, please. What will happen if I put it on?
Her voice is almost entirely drained of strength.
Barcarola: If I reach this beautiful new era Ms. Grace speaks of, what will happen to Cremona? The streets, the cathedral, all of the people I grew up with ...
Barcarola: Will I ever be able to see them again?
Vertin: The truth is ...
Vertin: After the "Storm," there may still be a Cremona, but ...
Vertin: Every face, every song, every brick from each house to the cathedral—will be different.
Vertin: The "Storm" will wash away almost all traces of this era.
Barcarola: ...
Vertin: But you can still help us, Ms. Barcarola.
Barcarola: Me? How?
Vertin: No matter when the "Storm" arrives, we must fight till the last second.
Vertin: To help as many people survive as possible.
Barcarola: I-I need some time to think.
*bang*
The door slams open again.
Selone: Your visiting time is over, Barcarola.
Selone: Better not overstay your welcome.
Barcarola wipes the tears from her eyes, taking deep breaths as she tries to steady herself.
Barcarola: I have another request.
Barcarola: Could you tell me where Fatutu is?
Selone: ...
Barcarola: I just wanna see her, is all, as a friend.
The captain's cabin is calm compared to the carefully crafted atmosphere of fear and eeriness on the rest of the ship.
*click*
A delicate hand turns the knob on the radio, switching it to a more secretive frequency.
???: THEY are well aware of your contribution.
Ms. Grace: To follow THEIR divine guidance, we must be willing to renounce both body and mind.
Forget Me Not: Well done, Apostle Grace.
Forget Me Not: To think those white suits are so sure they've caught us off guard. Oh, I can't wait to see the despair in their eyes when they fall flat on their faces.
Forget Me Not: I can imagine it now: "Let us all observe a moment of silence for those lost in our latest failure. Let us honor them as eternal monuments of our cause." How pathetic.
Despite the static, the ridicule in Forget Me Not's tone rings clear.
Forget Me Not: Oh, and what about this Laplace rat that I hear has stowed away on board?
Ms. Grace: Yes, the Awakened ferrofluid sample named Ulrich—one of the major contributors to the creation of the Equilibrium Umbrella.
Forget Me Not: Hmph, let's hope his little umbrella keeps him dry.
Forget Me Not: Because if he isn't careful, he may end up in much deeper waters.
Ms. Grace: The ritual materials are nearly assembled, and we are accelerating our recruitment.
Ms. Grace: But the Nukutai Spirit Shells have yet to reach their most optimal form. It could hinder the stability of the ritual if they're not immersed in pure negative emotion.
Forget Me Not: Your commitment to quality is impressive, but the shells needn't be perfect to perform as needed. Do not waste time unnecessarily.
Forget Me Not: Do you understand, Apostle Grace?
Ms. Grace: ...
Forget Me Not: I trust you've learned from the last failure.
Ms. Grace: Yes.
Forget Me Not: Excellent. A teleportation array has been set up for you. But it will last only a short while. You must begin the ritual as soon as your ship reaches the target location.
Forget Me Not: Manus Vindictae awaits your return.
Ms. Grace: Yes, Mr. Forget Me Not. I will always follow THEIR guidance.
The communication ends, leaving only the echo of the final words spoken through it.
Grace raises a pale hand and gently caresses the intricate patterns on the Spirit Shells.
Silence fills the room.
