Isolde: You have everything wrapped up.
Kakania shuts the door, dimming the apocalyptic clamor outside.
The clinic remains cluttered, empty, quiet.
Only the mirrors no longer flash.
Kakania: Yes. The mirror scares me after what happened.
Kakania: It truthfully reflects my ugly face, my disgusting soul.
Isolde: You're not disgusting, doctor. How can someone disgusting have noble, high ideals like yours?
Kakania: Hah, perhaps. Maybe you're right. It's time to lift the cloth.
Kakania pulls back the curtain.
The dim room suddenly brightens.
Isolde: Ooh!
Isolde: The light hurts, did you open the curtains?
Isolde: Doctor, I can't see!
An overexposed world slowly reveals a painting.
And a strange, cold voice.
Kakania: Look at this painting, Isolde.
Kakania: Does it remind you of anything?
Isolde: I can't see it clearly, doctor ... It's too bright in here ...
Isolde: Can you pull the curtains? Just a bit ...
Kakania: This is the painting of your late brother, The Salvation.
Kakania: We've overlooked a simple fact, Isolde. Until Heinrich's final words reminded us all.
Kakania: Theophil wrote his note in despair, yet he called his last painting The Salvation.
Isolde: Doctor, it's too bright in here. Can we please talk somewhere else?
She waits for a response of concern or pity.
But she receives none.
Kakania: How could I have missed this, Isolde? A noble lady such as you not only can sing and dance, but also draw.
Kakania: Theophil was a fine gentleman, but only fine. He was skilled, but not gifted. The women of the Dittarsdorfs have always been better mediums than the men. You're much more gifted than your brother ...
Kakania: Should we be thankful of the two of you? You and your brother, a pair of messiahs of this era. One of you cried out and revealed the truth in a pitiful poem, and kept his despair in the form of art.
Isolde: Ugh ... Doctor ...
Kakania: And the other ... wished to "scrape the paint off the top, reveal its true colors, and reshape it."
Kakania: That's you, Isolde. You tried to scrape off the despair and reshape the world with your compassionate, pitying hands.
Kakania: He created the art, and you completed it.
Kakania: You and your brother are the co-creators of this painting, out of your pity for this world.
Kakania: ... And that's why it was the only work that survived the fire.
Kakania: Am I right, Isolde? Tell me!
Kakania's words carry weight.
Kakania: With Heinrich's help, the two of you met the leader of Manus Vindictae. You saw the miracle, you were shown the path to salvation.
Kakania: But poor Theophil could not accept what he was told. Like you, he was cursed by his noble blood. He sympathized with the world, yet he still clung to the privileges of nobility.
Kakania: He didn't want to work with Manus Vindictae, but he didn't want war either.
Kakania: He had his struggles. As a beneficiary of the salvation, writing of despair was his only way to vent.
Kakania: He had to take his life to end the pain. And he wanted you to join him, so that you and he would be free of the torment together.
Kakania: But he overlooked the fact that, unlike him, you were already living in despair. Everything he had and cared about had never been yours. The destruction of this world meant nothing to you.
Isolde: My, my head really hurts ...
Kakania: So you pulled the trigger on him, out of pity.
Isolde: I can't see anything ... Can you please dim the room?
Kakania: Look at this painting! Look at these mirrors, Isolde!
Kakania: What did the leader of Manus Vindictae show you?! What is "the path to salvation"?! Is it a spell? A ritual?!
Kakania: You're the only one who knows!!!
FINAL BOSS: Singing Phantom
Marcus: Doctor, you must stop using the mirror!
Marcus: You will both collapse if you continue to force her!
Kakania: I'm running out of options.
Kakania: I have to hypnotize her.
Isolde: ...!
Isolde: Hypnotize me? Hahaha ... You, Ms. Klara, the doctor who resents hypnosis and had even fought a duel to stop it ... you are going to use it ... on me?!
Isolde: Why? Because I'm a hysterical, irrational woman? The wicked witch? The cursed, inconsolable arcanist?!
Isolde: Why, why are you like this to me?!
Kakania: Please calm yourself, Isolde.
Kakania: And fix your eyes on this watch.
Isolde: Why?! Did I do something wrong again? Am I hopelessly incurable?
Isolde: Why, why couldn't you, cure me?!
Isolde: Can't you ... save me from despair ... one more time ...?
She looks at the beautiful girl, her once-friend.
But she doesn't know how to save her.
Kakania: Sleep, Isolde.
Kakania: To the peaceful place, to the home of night.
Isolde: ...
Isolde: You're the cruelest of all ...
Isolde: If you've made up your mind and think I'm guilty ... Why do you treat me so gently?
Isolde: If this is the salvation you brought ...
Isolde: I will ... embrace it with joy.
She begins a familiar aria, singing with all her heart.
Her voice at last not some guise or act, but her true self.
Isolde: I adorned the Madonna's mantle with jewels.
Isolde: And I gave my song to the stars, to the sky, which smiled more beautifully because of it.
Isolde: In the hour of sorrow.
Why, oh why, Lord.
Isolde: Why do you repay me thus?
The song never left her.
Isolde: Look, doctor ...
Isolde: The stars ... are shining ...
Kakania: ...
Kakania: Now, tell me, Isolde.
Kakania: What do you think of when you look at this painting?
Images appear in the mirror.
Clear, bright, and accompanied by the echo of the tide.
Arcana: I am intrigued by the name of your little group. "The Circle" ...
Theophil: Yes, unlike other animals, there's a power in every one of us. It's the source of our instinct. Following it, man survived the cruelty of nature.
Theophil: In awe of this extraordinary power, the first of man drew a magical circle on the ground, symbolizing a higher power, and declaring that man would no longer be at the mercy of nature.
Theophil: That was the first circle. The first magic, the first art!
Arcana: Heh heh ...
Arcana: An interesting take.
Arcana: I happened to have a circle too.
Arcana: This is also an ancient miracle, a circle of salvation.
Arcana: It shelters the chosen ones from the falling rain,
Arcana: and sees them to the promised land.
A vague murmur emanates from the mirror.
Like an ancient echo.
Marcus: Yes! That's it!
Marcus: I saw it! Doctor! I heard it!
Marcus: I "read" the "Storm" immunity ritual! We did it!!!
Kakania: ...
Kakania: Finally ...
Kakania falls to the ground, exhausted.
Marcus, ready now to face the communicator again, activates it.
This time, though, it brings good news.
Lucy: News from the frontline. They have sent home the "Storm" immunity ritual.
Lucy: Get to work, people.
Lucy: In the 22 hours before the "Storm" arrives, the whole world is our proving ground.