Seawater soaks the tips of her hair, the hem of her tweed skirt ripples among the waves.
The violin once hidden within the Crackling Box nestles against her, its neck, body, and tailpiece interlocking ... a small boat from the past buoying her steadily.
Barcarola realizes a terrifying truth, one she has long ignored.
Barcarola: It's just like what Papà and Mamma said ...
???: "Our cheeky little pumpkin's violin should have a rich and bright tone
—not too sharp or unbalanced—just like her."
???: "Let's ask Mr. Belli for some top-notch spruce or maple wood
—the best that Cremona can offer!"
???: "We'll need some glue for the neck joint and plenty of varnish."
???: "Of course. This is a Cremona violin we're talking about."
???: "Most important of all, it will be a violin for our little Barcarola."
The voices sound so close, as if they were spoken just yesterday.
Barcarola: As much as I try to deny it, I suppose my heart is still there with them.
A gentle breeze blows as she finally recognizes that little wisp of smoke lingering in her heart.
She clutches the violin even tighter.
Barcarola: Papà, Mamma, and Cremona.
A solid embrace, infused with the scent of rain and warmth, silently envelops her.
The rain has finally stopped.
The horizon shimmers faintly with a golden light once more.
Vertin: We did it.
Ulrich: Congratulations, Timekeeper.
Vertin: I should be the one congratulating you. Don't you think, Mr. "Fish Tank"?
The ferrofluid in the glass tank struggles to form a V.
Vertin: It's an odd twist of fate, isn't it?
Ulrich: Indeed. I've just reported our findings to Laplace. With this, our research on the "Storm" can finally advance to a new stage.
Ulrich: I've even managed to develop a taste for rock 'n' roll.
Ulrich: ♪ ... ♫ ...
Sonetto: Speaking of the "Storm" ...
Sonetto looks up at the sky, the reflection of the light on the water glimmering on her face.
This unfortunate cruise has finally come to an end.
Regulus: Hey, here comes the sun! Woo-hoo!
Sonetto: I never doubted you, Timekeeper. There was no "Storm," not this time anyway.
Vertin: Thank you for your continued trust, Sonetto.
The sound of the waves seems to fade away as it's replaced by a new melody.
Regulus: Smashing! This is sure to be the most fabulous boat party ever held! I wouldn't miss it for the world!
Familiar and foreign songs from countless lands intertwine as voices carry gently over the sea.
Regulus paddles fiercely toward the music.
Singing Crowd: Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam, where the deer and the antelope play.
Singing Crowd: Where seldom is heard a discouraging word, and the skies are not cloudy all day.
Singing Crowd: There we have spent many an hour, sitting in a joyful circle.
Singing Crowd: And we sang, the songs resounding in the oak grove.
Singing Crowd: By moonlight, little can be seen.
Singing Crowd: They looked for the pen, they looked for the fire.
Singing Crowd: Melancholy of the past visits my soul this tranquil morn.
Singing Crowd: When I go out to see her, she flies back to her home.
A familiar ballad leaves Barcarola's lips.
Barcarola: Silver stars shine upon the sea.
Barcarola: Feel the gentle waves and warm breeze.
Barcarola: Sail with me beneath the stars.
Barcarola: Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia.
Regulus: You have a truly heavenly voice, Barcarola!
Regulus: I've never heard that song before. Where's it from?
Fatutu: Oh, I know! It must be from Cremona!
Barcarola: N-No! It's a Neapolitan song. It has nothing to do with Cremona!
Sonetto: That's a Foundation helicopter!
Vertin: That island ...
