Part 1: After the Flood

Everyone imagines their future.
In most, they grow up, they make friends, get married, and hope to make their fathers and grandfathers proud.
We entered this new era full of those same hopes for our future. We had no idea what lay in wait for us.
We called it the triumphant opening to the "greatest era in history," a rite of passage for every man-to-be.
"Join us in an adventure side by side, bound by courage and loyalty! Return home victorious, and let your legend be told for generations to come!"
That was the future we imagined.
Now those sweet and fitting lies have melted away.
Barely more than children, we find ourselves bound, not for adventure, but for an open grave of mud and ruin.
Those of us who were lucky—or unlucky—to survive this battlefield were forged into something new.
Numb.
Cruel.
Corrupted.
The earth became fire and mud, and all of us devils.
What was it that we wanted from this war?
To be remembered, celebrated as heroes, or to forget and be forgotten?
The answer may seem obvious, but the question itself lies at fault. Because death, meaningless death, came for thousands of us every day, and we knew ...
We soldiers never had a choice.
???: What do you see?

???: Subconscious stable. No sign of invasive illusions. Cognition-reality match rate normal ...
???: Our test subject awakens.
Mesmer Jr.: Last question. What's this?

Vertin: This test isn't like the others from the Artificial Somnambulism we used to go through.
Mesmer Jr.: It's a special examination we've prepared for all personnel involved in the Antarctic operation. It wasn't my idea, by the way.
She powers down her equipment, the whirs and hums of its electric current fading with a soft drone.
Mesmer Jr.: I would say, based on your recovery so far, you could have been discharged a week ago, but we had strict orders to complete our entire course of treatment outlined in the Medical Manual.
Mesmer Jr.: Whatever it is that hides under the Antarctic, it didn't do any additional harm to your mental health.
Mesmer Jr.: You're lucky, you know. Many others have suffered irreversible damage that will limit their day-to-day lives.
Vertin: What about Nautika and Ms. Stranger?
Mesmer Jr.: I have no access to Ms. Stranger's information. All I know is she's been sent to another department for treatment.
Mesmer Jr.: As for Nautika ... she's doing great.
Mesmer Jr. offers her judgment in plain terms.
Vertin: Where is she now? Does she have enough space to stretch?
Mesmer Jr.: Mr. Hoffman cleared out a lecture hall for her. I wouldn't call it a palace, but it's spacious enough to meet her needs.
Mesmer Jr.: Too bad, though; now she's being cornered in there by every arcane biologist, ancient myth enthusiast, and crazy ritualist we have on staff.
Mesmer Jr.: I guess they've decided she's an invaluable opportunity to learn more.
Mesmer Jr.: You do have access to that hall if you really want to know how she's doing. Just go knock on her door. She's also been asking about you.
The therapist averts her gaze and shifts away to end the conversation as she begins to tidy the ward.
A soft knock at the door breaks the awkward tension.
Sonetto: Timekeeper?
Mesmer Jr.: ...
Vertin: Come on in, Sonetto.
The splash of orange from her hair is a welcome break from the dull gray and white. Sonetto casts a polite glance toward her old classmate.
Sonetto: Hi, Mesmer. How's the Timekeeper doing?
Mesmer Jr.: She's good to go.
Sonetto: Thank you. Just a minute.
Sonetto recalls today's agenda.
Sonetto: Timekeeper, Madam Z said the "Storm" investigation team is back. She's waiting for you in Madam Vice President's office.
Vertin: Let's head that way, then.
Mesmer Jr.: You two have fun. Take care.
Mesmer Jr. sees the guests out, staying behind to wrap up her final tasks.
The aftershocks of the tenth "Storm" still ripple through the Foundation.
Though they've long grown used to changing times, the staff move through the geometric corridors less like a well-oiled machine and more like a clogging artery.
Sonetto: There's so much tension in the air now.
Vertin: I suppose because this "Storm" was different from the ones we've seen before.
Vertin: I look forward to hearing what Madam Z has to say about it.
Foundation Commissioner: I don't intend to waste my time on this anymore.
Sonetto: ...?
A Committee member strides out of the office, his face completely distorted, in contrast to his neat uniform.
Another man rushes behind him, doing his best to keep his pace in check.
Pedra: Please, I thought we reached an agreement, Irinei.
However, the one he's chasing has already reached the fork at the far end of the hall.
Irinei: Naturally, I accept the Committee's decision.
Irinei: If you really think we don't have to prioritize the Manus, then be my guest.
Pedra: Our top priority is to restore peace and order to this era. You should know that ...
Irinei: We're at war, Mr. Pacifist, one far more dangerous than you could possibly conceive.
Pedra: Pacifist ... What do you mean "Pacifist"?
Irinei doesn't respond. He turns down the left path and disappears from view.
Pedra: ...!
The "pacifist" Committee member gives up his chase and takes the other path.
Sonetto: Umm. The room they just came out of, is that ...?
Vertin: It does appear so: the Vice President's office.
Vertin: Let's go.
Sonetto: After you.
The expected occupant is nowhere to be seen. Only her chief of staff waits inside.
Z: Very nearly perfect timing, Vertin, Sonetto. I had heard that the Rehab Center cleared you for release, but it's all the more reassuring to see it for myself.
The signs of the fierce argument that took place linger in the mess of documents strewn over the table.
Vertin: Madam Z, we saw Irinei and Pedra at the door.
Z: Let's not talk about them for now.
Vertin: Understood. So, the "Storm" investigation team has returned?
Z: Correct. Thanks to the Field Agent Squad and our investigators, we've collected enough proof to verify your hypothesis. History has changed.
Z: The tenth "Storm" has brought us to an entirely different 1920 than we knew, one with a war still raging that should have long been over.
Vertin: Do we understand why history has changed?
Z: Laplace has two hypotheses.
Z: The first centers on the ritual held in the Antarctic—despite being interrupted—its "Flood" might have changed the "Storm's" nature ...
Z: Which has resulted in an even greater deviation from history as we knew it. Don't look so discouraged; that would be much better than the other theory—
Z: After her "revival," Arcana may have obtained the power to use the "Storm" to alter the course of history.
Sonetto: If that is the case, in all likelihood, that means this war ...
Constantine: —Is likely a result of intentional manipulation by Arcana. Manus Vindictae is trying to bring more chaos to the world.
The solemn room welcomes its master.
Constantine: It's been a long time since we last met in this room, Timekeeper.
Vertin: It seems like nothing has changed.
Constantine: Heh heh. But there's no time to dwell on that. I have some critical updates for you.
Constantine: This war may be close to its end. Though the fighting continues, we've begun engaging each side's leaders, and we believe a truce is possible.
Constantine: There will be a peace talk, and the Committee has decided to act as its mediator. Peace is always the Foundation's top priority.
Constantine: After this situation is stabilized, we'll pool our resources and focus on the Manus.
Vertin: I see. How's the progress so far?
The chief of staff answers on her behalf for this minor detail.
Z: Our branch leaders have built lines of communication, and we have reached an agreement on some of the terms with their respective governments.
Z: Pedra will go to meet the commanders on behalf of the Foundation, with the aim to reach a lasting truce by the end of the month.
Z: If everything goes well, we may be able to restore peace before the new year.
Now is the time to ask the question that's been lingering in her mind.
Vertin: As we arrived, I heard Irinei call Pedra a "Pacifist." Does Irinei disagree with the Foundation's policy regarding the war?
Constantine: It isn't a matter of the policy, but the means by which we achieve it, to be precise.
Vertin: How do you mean?
Constantine: He and a few others believe all attempts to restore peace are bound to fail unless we destroy the Manus first.
Constantine: In short, he wants to do things the tough way.