The world is a door, To a thousand ruins, desolate and cold. For those who have lost, What you have lost are long in the void.
—Vereinsamt by Friedrich Nietzsche
The flames of war rage along the shore.
Humans, Manus Vindictae, and Apeiron believers, all consumed by madness. The paints from their storm syndrome have bled into the sea, creating a disordered mixture of colors.
The flash of artillery and the glow of arcanum collide. Dead, infected sea creatures litter the shore, like a tableau of an abstract painting.
Marta: Where are you going, 37?
The sightless woman inquires with concern. Under her care, the leader's bleeding has finally ceased.
37: Please take care of 6 for me, Madam Marta.
37: I have to go find Sophia!
Not caring about anything else, she runs into the smoke.
Gunfire and explosions fill the air. The angry battle cries of former Apeiron believers, now in Manus attire, echo in all directions.
Manus Believer I: Die, humans!!!
37: Uhm!
The explosion knocks her off balance. She stumbles onto the gravel.
37: winces in pain
A pair of hands reaches out to her.
???: Are you alright, 37? Can you get on your feet?
37: Ah! Sophia!
Finally. The voice she's been searching for fills her with relief.
She happily reaches for her hands, but stops abruptly, uncertain.
37: Did you change your clothes?
Sophia: ...
She pushes down the cacophony of emotions swelling inside her.
Where to begin?
Sophia: I have found my number, 37.
Sophia: Your calculation was correct. As always.
37: You found it? That's good!
She accepts the news without hesitation, her face lighting up with a genuine smile.
37: I always wanted to tell you. It is a great number, the number of a herald, prophet, and pioneer.
37: When it was first discovered, mathematics was nearly destroyed. But luckily, it also spurred advancements in the field.
She stops, no longer rambling on about numbers, and sincerely gazes into her friend's emerald eyes.
37: Are we still friends, Sophia?
Sophia: ...
Sophia smiles. Smiling that she's still the same, even now.
She knows so much, yet she knows so little.
Sophia: Yes, 37. We still are.
Sophia: But there are more important matters I must tend to.
A bomber howls over their heads, the pilot laughing hysterically.
The plane is covered in thick layers of paint, its wings curled and twisted.
Soldier I: Hahahahaha! This is ours! The land we discovered!
The pilot has spotted the two targets on the barren rocks below, with two explosives prepared for release.
Sophia does not flinch or retreat, instead her fingers wrap gently around the tiny idol.
Sophia: Διορθωθεί το σφάλμα!
The bomber detonates in the sky, taking the young pilot with it.
37: Sophia, your power, and your look ...
Sophia: I must leave now, 37.
Sophia: Lady Arcana has shown me another path.
37: No. NO!
37: Why are you leaving, too? Is it because our circle has been broken?
37: But I found the Truth!
37: I have the final solution! Just give me a little more time, and everything will be fine again, I promise!
Sophia: ...
She closes her eyes, the scripture still lingers in her mind.
"There are three kinds of people who come to the Olympic Games."
"The lowest class is made up of those who come to buy and sell,
and the next above them are those who come to compete."
"But the most esteemed, however, are those who come to look on."
"Only these wise pursuers of knowledge ..."
"... may release themselves from the 'wheel of birth.'"
Sophia: You and I are different, 37.
Sophia: Not all of us have the privilege to look on from the sidelines.
She clenches the tiny idol.
A thick, tar-like substance seeps out from her body. In an instant, the bombers are wiped out completely.
37: Sophia, you ...
She can't prolong the inevitable any longer, she knows that.
This is the last thing she wants.
Sophia: I will join Manus Vindictae, take others with me, and leave.
Sophia: I will renounce the Scripture and seek vengeance in the phenomenal world.
Sophia: Make your move, 37.
Tears roll down her eyes.
Sophia: If you really are the genius who can overcome anything ...
Sophia: Prove it to me.
Sophia: Stop me, transcend me, defeat me …
Sophia: Crush me to dust.
COMBAT
The explosions have finally ceased.
The planes rest alongside the geometric bodies in the sea, sinking into an everlasting sleep.
The roars of battle are no more.
All that remains is the crashing of the waves against the shore.
Sophia: Why?
Sophia: Why did you spare me, 37? Why did you show mercy? You weren't supposed to—
The battle ended quickly. 37's geometric brilliance has left only a tear on her friend's robe.
37: Because I don't want to fight you, Sophia!
37: Why? Why do we have to do this?!
Her voice is filled with anguish.
Sophia: ...
Sophia looks down in a long silence.
Then, she gently shakes her head.
Sophia: I'm sorry, 37. I have gone beyond reason, beyond cure.
Sophia: I must've been out of my mind to make you fight me. Your hands were never meant for violence. They were meant for upholding the Truth.
37: ...?
Sophia: As for me—I'm the one who clears the dust off the path, as fate foretold.
Sophia: Goodbye, my beloved friend.
She no longer wavers or looks back.
Her shoulders tremble, but she strides toward the Manus with determination.
Sophia: It is time.
Sophia: Please "clean up" the beach as quickly as possible. We will depart soon, as Lady Arcana has instructed.
37: Soph- ...
Sonetto: Ms. Sophia!
The team is finally reunited.
Sonetto arrives last, heaving from trying to catch up to the scene.
She had her own battles elsewhere on the island. That strange dream has taken its toll on her.
And now she is holding her pen, silently questioning Sophia with a piercing stare.
Why?
Sophia: ...
Sophia: We all have our own purpose to fulfill, Ms. Sonetto.
She walks right past her.
Sophia: I will not fight you this time. But I will draw steel the next we meet.
The new members of the Manus Vindictae have left.
They did clean up the beach—every trace of humanity has been wiped clean.
Only rock and metal debris remain on the beach.
37: I don't understand any of this.
She slumps to the ground and stares blankly into the distance.
37: The Truth transcends all and is above all trivial matters of the phenomenal world.
37: It guides us to enlightenment and protects us from evil and misfortune, does it not?
37: This is what I have always believed, so I went seeking for it. It is finally in my hands. But now, but now ...
37 buries her face between her knees, on the verge of sobbing.
37: What went wrong? Was it my fault? Isn't this how the Truth is supposed to work?
Vertin: ...
Sonetto: ...
It is not an easy question for an off-island visitor to answer.
However, one thing is for certain.
Vertin: The Truth has not abandoned you, 37.
Vertin: You haven't used the key yet, have you? It is still coded.
37: ...!
37: The key ...
37 is helped up from the ground.
Vertin: Lilya has verified Arcana's location. She is still on this island.
Vertin: We still have a chance to stop her before it's truly too late.
Vertin: We should go now, Sonetto.
Vertin: We have 15 more hours until the "Storm."