In this life there are three kinds of men,
just as there are three sorts of people who come to the Olympic Games.
The lowest class is made up of those who come to buy and sell,
and next above them are those who come to compete.
Best of all, however, are those who come to look on.
The greatest purification of all is, therefore, science,
and it is the man who devotes himself to that, the true philosopher,
who has most effectually released himself from the "wheel of birth."
—John Burnet, Early Greek Philosophy
6: Before this negotiation begins, I wish to tell an allegory to the two of you.
6: A group of people were imprisoned in a cave.
6: Behind them, there was a fire. Before them was a tall, solid wall.
6: Their legs and necks were chained and fixed, so they were constrained to look nowhere but to gaze at the wall in front of them.
6: When they dropped their eyes, they saw their own body. When they looked up, the flickering light of the fire fell over them, and they only saw the shadows of what was passing behind them.
6: No one had lived one day outside the cave. The shadows cast on the wall were all there was to be perceived as reality. They had no knowledge of the real world.
6: One day, one of them escaped from the cave, walked into the light, and saw the true world with his own eyes for the first time.
6: Everything he saw or felt in the cave was nothing more than a mere shadow of the object's true Form.
6: Our world is a poor one, Ms. Vertin.
6: The phenomenal world is the cave in this allegory, where we are surrounded by shadows or some humble fractions of the truth.
6: It is ugly, frivolous, filthy, perishable, subject to decay, and filled with hollow desires and meaningless struggles.
6: Only the wise can walk out of that cave and see the world as it truly is.
6: In that eternal, transcendent world, everything is in its most perfect Form.
6: I pray that you, Ms. Vertin, the representative of St. Pavlov Foundation, and you, Ms. Arcana, her counterpart of Manus Vindictae, would pay heed to my words.
6: Everything you've been fighting each other for means no more than some fragments of phenomena to us.
6: There's only one thing worth doing.
6: That is, to seek higher wisdom, develop one's virtue, and achieve greatness in life.
6: We have never set foot on the soil dampened by the "Storm," nor have we ever been involved in the disputes brought by the torrents of time.
6: I beg you: do not take your conflict in the phenomenal world into the realm of truth.
Arcana: For certain.
Arcana: It was never my intention to sully the sanctuary of truth.
6: Then, to prevent a situation like this from happening again ...
6: I would like to ask you two to carve your names on these two stone bangles and drip a drop of your blood on each of them.
6: Once the bracelet is put on, no one will be able to remove it.
6: From now on, as long as you're on this island, none of your people will draw blood from one another.
6: Or the bangle shall draw all the blood from you.
6: The peace agreement is so decided.
Arcana: ...
Vertin: ...
Arcana stretches out her hand and gently takes a bangle.
Vertin: I appreciate that.
Vertin: I'll sign it.
The leader gives a slight nod.
He looks out from the table and simply strides away.
The bangle feels real in their hands.
It certainly possesses some sort of power to fulfill the bloody pledge.
Vertin: The peace agreement ...
Someone is approaching.
Yes, she is still here, from the beginning to the end.
Arcana: Lady Vertin, we meet again.
Arcana: I wish the best to thy friend.
Vertin: She's doing "well," thanks to you.
Arcana: Heh heh. You're most welcome.
Arcana: Thou shalt quench, for times hath changed.
Arcana: I would not wish to shed even a drop of arcanist's blood in vain.
Vertin: ...
Vertin: But Schneider should be the victim of a merciless bullet?
Arcana: ...
Arcana: Vertin, my pitiful child.
Arcana: Did you forget?
Arcana: That merciless bullet cameth from a gun never belongen to me.
Vertin: ...!
Vertin: ...
Vertin: What's Manus Vindictae's purpose to be here?
Arcana: Hearken the archaic wisdom.
Arcana: Just as thou dost.
The stone bangle is hot, almost scalding.
Arcana: Heh heh ... I am not surprised.
Arcana: I adore thy visage, Lady Vertin, emotionless in the "Storm."
Arcana: Alas ...
Arcana: No man shall bravest the "Storm" and live.
Arcana: Including thee.
Vertin: ...
Her words sound as harsh as the winter gale.
An emotion suddenly comes. It's raging like a bush fire but soon gets tamed down.
Vertin: A wooden box in the Olitiau's base has my name on it.
Vertin: Was that your doing?
Arcana: Sadly, it wasn't.
Arcana: I hope thee findeth the answer satisfactory.
The figure of Arcana disappears in the night.
Vertin: ...
The stone bangle at the wrist becomes subtly heated.
Vertin: It's burning.
Something is slithering in the woods nearby.
Manus Follower I: Is that Ms. Arcana?
Manus Follower I: Ms. Arcana! Please don't go! Save us!
Manus Follower II: And save art!
Two weary figures run past Vertin.
They are chasing after their leader desperately, as if they are running away from some horrific monsters.
Following them, a petite figure rushes out of the woods.
37: No. Come back! Come back!
37: You ignorant foreigners! I just started introducing vectors and matrices, and that's the most interesting part!
37: Ah, Vertin!
37: Great! You always show up at the right time and right place.
37: Stop the masked people, whatever it takes!
