The main hall is packed with passengers. Their wine sways slightly, emitting an enchanting luster in the beautiful, familiar melody.
Girls weave their way carefully through the excited crowd, like a school of nimble fish.
The passengers nod politely to the girl at the front.
Guest I: Ms. Barcarola! At last you've graced us with your presence!
Guest I: Henry and I were just having a little wager on whether we'd see our musical star outside the spotlight. Looks like he'll be buying me the next round of whiskey, eh? Haha.
Barcarola: Ah, well bet, sir! Allow me to pour you the first glass. How do you like your whiskey? On the rocks, perhaps?
Guest I: Indeed, thank you, my dear.
Guest II: gasp Over here, Mum! It's Ms. Barcarola!
Guest II: Last time I saw her, she performed an entire symphony all by herself. She was the whole orchestra! I've never seen anything like it!
Barcarola: It's good to see you again, my little friend.
The woman beside her turns around and lovingly pats the boy on the head.
Guest III: Ms. Barcarola, what a pleasure. I've heard so much about you.
Guest III: My child hasn't stopped talking about you since you spoke to him about the didgeridoo at Sydney Harbor.
Guest III: He was so excited by it that he begged us to bring one onboard.
Barcarola: How lovely! The didgeridoo truly is an enchanting instrument.
Barcarola: It's so resonant, don't you think? It almost feels like it's echoing from the depths of the earth itself. I've actually been experimenting with playing it alongside my Crackling Box. It's a wonderful match with the tin whistle and kalimba, and I'm sure a number of other instruments too!
As she speaks, Barcarola's eyes sparkle with enthusiasm.
The admiration surrounding her is so bright that it almost blinds the tourist standing nearby. Luckily, she's wearing sunglasses.
Regulus: Looks like she's pretty popular, too!
Sonetto: Too?
Regulus: Have you forgotten, Sonetto? You're also looking at a popular public figure yourself! One that had half of London hunting, ah, oh, I mean, cheering for her.
Regulus: Ah, the bittersweet burden of fame!
Vertin: ...
Their attention is quickly turned to a quiet corner of the ship.
There's a group of people dressed in brightly colored clothes. Crowns made of leaves and flowers adorn their heads, and their bronze skin is glowing under the warm lights.
They stand in a circle, occasionally glancing around, the shells on their chests clinking together melodiously.
Vertin: That group over there seems unusually uptight.
Having absorbed all the adoration of the people around her, Barcarola makes her way over.
She certainly wouldn't overlook the curiosity of any of her guests.
Barcarola: Oh, those are the captain's special guests. They're from one of the Oceania archipelagos. Nukutaeao, I believe.
Barcarola: They're probably just a bit nervous. I imagine they don't often find themselves among so many foreigners.
After handling the small matter at hand, Barcarola is hurriedly called away by the distant voices of other guests.
Sonetto: Nukutaeao ...
Sonetto: I read about it in A History of Arcane Ethnicity back in the SPDM. It's a remote place, and its people hold a special kind of shell at the center of their beliefs. They've rarely made contact with the outside world.
Sonetto: It's often been described as a peaceful paradise.
Sonetto: I also read that the Nukutai almost never leave their homeland. Why are they here?
Their hushed conversation clearly meets the ears of the nearby Nukutai.
One young boy strides forward, his chest puffed up in indignation.
Toa: The Nukutai will never abandon our homeland!
Toa: J-Just wait. We'll find our way back when the new era comes!
Vertin: The new era ...
Though in a foreign accent, these words sound all too familiar.
Selone: Toa, that's enough. Tutu told us not to talk with outsiders.
An equally young girl stands protectively in front of the boy.
Toa: But, someone had to tell them the truth!
Sonetto: I apologize. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything. I was just curious.
Toa: Well, next time keep your mouth shut. What could you possibly know about the Nukutai?
The boy looks about ready to explode.
Noticing the outburst, Barcarola breaks away from the other guests and hurries over.
Barcarola: Please, everyone, no fighting.
Barcarola: I'm Barcarola, the musical director. Is there anything I can help you with? I'll do all I can to ensure everyone has a pleasant experience.
Before she can reach them, a crisp collision of shells stops Barcarola in her tracks.
Barcarola: ...!
Fatutu: What's going on? What do you want?
Her voice holds no restraint in its hostility.
Selone: Tutu!
Fatutu: Selone, Toa, stay back. These outsiders could be dangerous.
Barcarola: Dangerous? Have you never heard of me before?
Fatutu looks Barcarola over, eyeing the peculiar wooden contraption by her side.
Fatutu: ...
Suppressing her curiosity about this unique object, she steadies her gaze once more.
Fatutu: Whoever you are, I ask that you leave us in peace.
Barcarola: I ... You ...
Barcarola is lost for words. Clearly, her status as a musical star has made her unaccustomed to such remarks.
Ignoring the now flushed girl before her, Fatutu and the other Nukutai retreat back to their corner.
Selone: Tutu, thank the tides you came! I wasn't sure what to do.
Toa: Hmph. So are we going to take Ms. Grace's offer or not? She promised it would bring our islands back.
Toa casts a fierce glare at Fatutu.
Fatutu: Enough, Toa! These outsiders don't need to know why we're here. And stop mentioning Ms. Grace. Could draw unwanted attention.
Toa: But what's there to hide? There's no shame in wanting our home back.
Toa: If we don't stand with Ms. Grace, we'll lose Nukutaeao forever!
Fatutu: I want to go home too, probably more than anyone! I already miss Meli's red coral reefs, blue sea, and canoe races.
Fatutu: We'll get through this, Toa. I promise we'll be neighbors again, picking breadfruit and coconut flowers together. But before we accept Ms. Grace's offer, there's a few things that need to be made clear.
Fatutu: And remember, none of these passengers are to blame for what happened to our home, okay?
Selone: But Ms. Grace has offered us a way home.
Selone: We'll have our islands back, just as they were. Our promised land.
Fatutu: We will go home, Selone. Trust me.
Fatutu: I just need to figure out a few things first.
Fatutu: Starting with this "wonderful new era" she keeps talking about.
Ms. Grace: ...
Ms. Grace: You seem a little on edge, Chief Kamuta.
Kamuta is pacing back and forth in the cabin.
Kamuta: Ms. Grace, how much longer do we have to wait for this new era to come?
Kamuta: Many of our people have never left Nukutaeao before. We're struggling to adjust. Some have even fallen sick. We can't stay adrift on the sea like this much longer.
Kamuta: Our spirits are low. The shells of some of my people have begun to crack.
He lowers his head to the faintly glowing shells in his palm. They radiate warmth.
Kamuta: Not everyone is strong enough to endure this journey. Please, Ms. Grace. You have to help us.
Ms. Grace: While it pains me to hear this ...
Ms. Grace: The journey must go on. You have nowhere to return to, after all. We still have some space below deck. You can use it to store your people's bodies should they die.
Her gaze remains fixed on the crystalline shells in Kamuta's hand.
Kamuta: That's not exactly what we're asking for.
Kamuta: Please, show us another way. Help us like you did when you foresaw the destruction of Meli. I beg of you.
Grace tilts her head, a glimmer of intrigue on her face as she observes the pained expression on Kamuta's face.
Ms. Grace: I've already shown you a way, haven't I?
Kamuta: ...!
A sudden pressure swells in his chest as a sticky black liquid silently drips onto his skin.
Kamuta: You mean joining the Manus?
Kamuta: ...
Kamuta: But the Nukutai haven't had a conflict with anyone for centuries. That's why we hid ourselves away from the world.
Kamuta: Difficult to persuade my people to do this.
Kamuta: All we want is for our people to return to familiar soil, to feel our spirits at home. Nothing more.
Ms. Grace: But Meli is already gone.
Kamuta: Yes, but that doesn't mean we should take revenge on the outside world. It was an act of the sea itself. It would be unjust to blame anyone for it.
Ms. Grace: What about the torpedo test sites designated over Malaga and Vaipuna? Aren't there people who should answer for that?
Kamuta: It was probably just a mistake.
Kamuta: The area they chose was far from the main islands of Nukutaeao, and hardly anyone fishes there. They may not have realized that my people lived there.
Ms. Grace: And the oil spill? The wastewater discharge? Were all those fish killed by pollution also just an "act of the sea"?
Kamuta: I ... Please ... We're not looking for conflict.
Ms. Grace: Of course you're not. After all, they've only stolen everything you've ever held dear ...
Her voice drops abruptly, her next words delivered with the lightness of a feather.
Ms. Grace: ... and arrogantly assumed every inch of this planet is theirs to exploit.
Kamuta: ...
Ms. Grace: War is inevitable, whether you want it or not, Nukutai.
She gently pushes the mask forward. Its dark presence is unavoidable.
Ms. Grace: But if you join us, you will have an invaluable ally: time.
Grace glances at her pocket watch before slipping it lightly into her pocket.
Ms. Grace: The window is closing.
Ms. Grace: The sifting is about to begin.
Both a prompt and a prophecy.
Kamuta: ...
The Spirit Shells around Kamuta's neck burn. They cling to his chest as they twist with ferocity.
Kamuta: Has it really come to this? To revenge?
His eyes flash up to the jagged mask on the table.
Dark tendrils extend from it, groping at the air in a silent invitation.
His Spirit Shells are almost scorching.
Ms. Grace: Oh no, it's quite the opposite. It's salvation.
