The light is dim here.
Archive cabinets and unorganized files are everywhere, punctuated by strange devices in Laplace style. It seems like an abandoned utility room.
Matilda: coughs Where are we? Lost-and-Found of the Racket Ball Center?
She waves away the dust and struggles her way along the toppling cabinets.
Matilda: Hmm, the orb showed copper pieces. We need to find something that seems to be locked but is actually not.
Matilda: Aha, found it! Nothing can stop the genius Matilda!
She finds what she's looking for in a rusty drawer.
Obviously, the report has been here for a very long time.
Its corners curl because of the damp air. Luckily, the writing is still recognizable.
Writer of the Report: … The trip to Egypt didn't go smoothly.
Writer of the Report: The ship was hit by a common storm at sea. We were lost in the fog after that, completely off course.
Writer of the Report: Then something emerged from the water. Since the first "Storm," the Foundation has received frequent sightings of arcane creatures which should have been extinct in history.
Writer of the Report: I had no idea what I was shooting at, even after I emptied the clip.
Writer of the Report: And I didn't know what to do. Those arcanists brought us back on course. She named the precise longitude and latitude of our location, even without using the sextant in the spare cabin.
Writer of the Report: I wonder how she did that. Perhaps the world did look different in her eyes.
Writer of the Report: Then, when I was about to step on a random plank on the ship, she suddenly dragged me back. I thought it was only an inappropriate joke ...
Writer of the Report: But the next second, the plank broke.
Writer of the Report: I was stunned and asked her how she saw that coming. She just answered me as if we were talking about the weather ...
"HER": "Because that plank is deformed like a rhombus."
Writer of the Report: I was confused, "Where is the rhombus?" She laughed.
"HER": "The rhombus can't be seen with eyes. You shall close your eyes, hearken to the teaching of the supreme existence, and seize the moment of afflatus!"
Writer of the Report: Of course, I didn't see anything, nor did I understand what a moment of afflatus was. Perhaps it's just another privilege enjoyed by arcanists, just like their right to be lunatic.
Writer of the Report: Nevertheless, she reached the correct conclusion in a completely wrong way. Is it really possible?
Writer of the Report: Anyway, she saved my life, but that was not enough to settle the differences between us.
Writer of the Report: She remained rejective to working with the Foundation, and I finally gave up the attempt to persuade them.
Writer of the Report: My mission on that trip was not to make contact with them.
Writer of the Report: Besides, what we needed was builders of the "Storm" Observation System, not some liars who would only make things worse.
Writer of the Report: As for the shelter they took from the "Storm," she wouldn't say a word, as if she were dealing with a spy who pried to find out the deepest secret of the arcanists.
Writer of the Report: In the end, Hugh mediated between us. He gave me an address in Istanbul to which I could send letters to contact them.
Writer of the Report: After that, I spent more than half a year in the Egypt office. Things were even worse there than I expected.
Writer of the Report: Some have gone missing after the "Storm": the people who were supposed to be in the Egypt office, according to the member list stored in the headquarters in 1985, were not there when I arrived.
Writer of the Report: The situation could be caused by the limitations of the transmission of paper-based materials, because computer was not yet popularized to every corner of the globe at that time. One minor mistake of a copyist's could develop into a huge difference.
Writer of the Report: Besides that, the chaos inside Laplace was an even worse issue.
Writer of the Report: I learned that someone published the paper, Samplings of Global and Regional Chaotic Energy Route Changes, in the name of Butterfly of Lorentz.
Writer of the Report: Apparently, they secretly used our sampling sites, yet their research direction and conclusion were radically different from Laplace's.
Writer of the Report: The researchers equally divided into two schools: one sticking to the human technology they have focused on, and one changing their direction to arcanum.
Writer of the Report: At the time, it was still too early to decide which direction was right without sufficient experimental data.
Writer of the Report: But many already believed that if time continued to be reversed, human technology would only keep falling into decline, while arcanum, which relies on personal ability, would rise again.
Writer of the Report: It's true that Gnosis cannot be copied, verified by an independent third party, or comprehended through reasoning ...
Writer of the Report: Its nature decides that it cannot lay the foundation of science or be popularized to every ordinary person. It takes solid marble to build a castle, not slippery sand.
Writer of the Report: Even so, what harm will it do to rely on arcanum when the underlying logic of all things has become unreasonable?
Writer of the Report: Before the disagreement was settled, the "Storm" in 1987 was predicted. We were ordered to return to the headquarters 24 hours before its arrival.
Writer of the Report: But the prediction was not accomplished by Laplace. A captive from Manus Vindictae named the precise date of that "Storm."
Writer of the Report: Our enemy, those lunatic xenophobes valuing only pure blood, made it further than we did.
Writer of the Report: Yes, we built observation stations, we made countless deductions, we developed multiple simulation models ...
Writer of the Report: We made efforts, we sacrificed life, we did whatever we could ...
Writer of the Report: Yet, the result was that we didn't find any other regions immune to the "Storm" except the headquarters and another one in North America.
Writer of the Report: In the end, 95% of the branch members were reversed, 87.9% of the equipment was destroyed, and 100% of our predictions failed.
Writer of the Report: In conclusion, our endeavor brought no achievements. As for the captive from Manus Vindictae, the delirium patient who claimed that oracles flowed under his parietal bone ...
Writer of the Report: When we asked him how he learned the precise date of the "Storm," he burst into laughter.
Manus Follower: "Can't you hear it?! Has God left you behind when he spread his grace?!"
Writer of the Report: Then, he smashed his own skull with the handcuff.
Writer of the Report: Yes, there was no doubt—he was an incurable lunatic.
Writer of the Report: But his insane nonsense was exactly the reason we survived the "Storm" again! No matter how unreasonable or illogical it was, or how much a lie it sounded like!
Writer of the Report: "So, we'd better believe we shouldn't go out in black today because the fish is swimming in the water."
Writer of the Report: "We'd better believe in the existence of the non-physical, everlasting transcendent world where everyone's soul is a number."
Writer of the Report: "We'd better believe in the supreme existence which caused the disorder of time by merely casting its shadow. "
Writer of the Report: "That means the life of individuals means nothing more than rubbish, and the world is but an imperfect ruin where only the chosen ones will pass the trial while the rest will be eliminated by the rain."
Writer of the Report: How am I supposed to do that?!
Writer of the Report: Finally, I made up my mind to write to "her."
Writer of the Report: I didn't expect her to answer my questions. All I wanted was to confirm if she had survived that "Storm."
Writer of the Report: For the sake of our peaceful talk about the rhombus.
Writer of the Report: Yet, what I heard from them was a simple announcement of her death with only two words.
Letter: "She died."
Writer of the Report: Then it burned and turned to ashes in a second.
Writer of the Report: On the same day, the first and only Timekeeper who just took office, the twelve-year-old child, returned alone from the "Storm."
Writer of the Report: She told us the time in the outside world at that point.
Writer of the Report: And that was how I knew she was right.
"HER": "It is right in front of you."
Writer of the Report: But, if there is a god, why are you playing such a prank on us, after we had suffered from the collapse of all the existing orders and the failure of all the great laws?
Writer of the Report: If this is what she called the glimpse of the supreme existence, the moment of afflatus, do you have to present it in such a cruel way?
Writer of the Report: The last two digits in the number of the year after that "Storm" were exactly her name … and her number.
Writer of the Report: 77.
The report ends here.
Two digits. That's the full stop of the story.
Matilda: Unbelievable ... Unbelievable! It's actually true! Someone did make that prophecy!
Matilda: Vertin and Sonetto will be thrilled to know what we found!
Matilda: Well done, Ms. Sotheby! You performed as well as a formal investigator! We need to submit this report to your instructor immediately.
Grabbing the papers tightly, Matilda turns around with excitement.
Sotheby isn't the person standing there.
???: What are you doing in other people's rooms?
The report is snatched away.
???: This is my personal item. You have no right to take it.
???: Please leave immediately.
Matilda: P-Personal item?! This is a precious record that should have been submitted to the Foundation!
Matilda: According to Administration and Regulations for Dispatched Personnel (St. Pavlov Foundation Decree No. 259),
Matilda: Every member of the Foundation, when acting as a field investigator, is required to create a comprehensive investigation report of all their actions and promptly submit it!
???: And they are obliged to ensure the authenticity, objectivity, and impartiality of the report. No personal bias is allowed in the content.
???: If you have read this report, Miss, you should know that it's not even qualified to be filed.
Matilda: Ugh! But this is an emergency!
The "Storm" Reformation Act is still new to her. She can't think of any articles to support her point of view.
She racks her brains for words. But before she makes it, the other person starts talking, with one of his eyebrows raised.
???: I can tell from your uniform. You are a student of SPDM, or ...?
???: This is Laplace. Do you have your guardian's approval to leave the school, Ms. Underage Student?
Matilda: A-Approval? I don't need that! I am not a student! You are talking to the exceptionally promoted monitor assistant of SPDM!
Matilda: Here is my ID!
She holds her ID card high as if she's holding the flag of liberty.
But she is ignored. The adult walks directly to a swivel chair in the room and pays attention to an educational toy on the table.
Matilda: Huh! Did you just ignore a formal administrator of the Foundation?! This monitor assistant will report every misbehavior of yours, every little bit of them!
Wordless, the monitor assistant can't be more embarrassed in her life. She looks around just to find that Sotheby is gone.
Luckily, the chief assistant learns faster than she expects.
The familiar sing-song tone is making a report to her own tutor outside the half-opened door.
Sotheby: Ms. Moissan, we found that report here!
Sotheby: The great Ms. Bouanich and I discovered some important information. I came to you and Madam Z immediately after we read it.
Sotheby: Hmm? Ms. Bouanich, why are you confronting Mr. Chair?
Sotheby stands at the door. Her head is tilted.
Two adults are behind her.
Z: I didn't expect to see the second half of that report here in your room, Adler.
This time, the owner of the voice can't be ignored.
The swivel chair unwillingly turns around.
Enigma: Don't call me that, friend. Why not just call me Enigma? Just like everyone else. Relax. I know nicknames mean no harm.
Enigma: But I don't understand. How is a report filled with meaningless words of any concern to you, Madam Z?
Z: It provides information about the arcanist group Vertin is now dealing with.
Z: If possible, please give it to me.
Enigma: Of course. How can I turn down the request from Constantine's chief of staff?
Enigma: Take it away. I hope you don't mind the mold on it.
The researcher stays seated on the chair and casually hands out the report.
Madam Z smiles. She seems glad to see that Enigma still has the energy to be sarcastic.
But clearly, the monitor assistant can't tolerate such a blatant violation of the staff regulations.
Matilda: Please pay attention to your manners and do not bring disgrace to the Computing Center, Mr. Rude!
Ms. Moissan taps her on the shoulder and quickly looks in the direction of the door.
Ms. Moissan: Ms. Bouanich, Ms. Sotheby, you've done a great job. I'm sure what you have found would be of great help to Timekeeper.
Ms. Moissan: And I will report your active performance in this mission to SPDM as soon as possible, Ms. Bouanich.
Ms. Moissan: We need to further analyze the files you've found. The first on the scene could provide more detailed information. Let's get out of here.
Matilda: A-Active performance ...!
The keywords give this young monitor assistant a giddy pleasure. She can't help but ignore everything else Ms. Moissan says.
Matilda: Hahaha, active ... No, no ... Calm down, Matilda ...
Matilda: I-I didn't accomplish it alone. Assistant Sotheby also played a significant role.
Sotheby: Hooray!
A loud cheer interrupts Matilda's mumbling.
Sotheby: That is to say, Ms. Bouanich, we can start preparing the balloons and flowers for the twist ball!
Matilda: Ahem ... Speaking of which, this monitor assistant still needs to think about it. By the way, just call me Matilda.
She struggles to get out of Sotheby's passionate hug. The great joy brought by Ms. Moissan makes her actions clumsy.
Cheering and discussing, the girls leave the room.
Madam Z carefully puts the valuable report away.
Enigma: ...
The researcher swivels the chair again and hides himself in the fortress made of dusty items.
He talks, through cabinets and equipment, in a slow manner.
Enigma: There will be no advance in human technology. You think so?
Enigma: Even the Madam Z has given up on the study of theoretical physics and become a politician.
Z: ...
Z: No. I've never thought of that.
She turns to the door with a faint smile.
Click.
The door is closed.
