Here, on the level sand, Between the sea and land, What shall I build or write Against the fall of night?
Tell me of runes to grave That hold the bursting wave, Or bastions to design For longer date than mine.
—Alfred Housman
210: Drink this. It will help relieve your pain. Worry not, it's not made from the grapes on my head.
The war may have ended, but its scars remain in this place.
The Hall of Truth, once the palace of knowledge, now stands in ruins.
210 examines the injured man's face closely, making sure his pain is eased. Then he stands and watches as more people are brought through the gate.
888: Hang in there, 29.
888 makes her way into the hall, carrying an incapacitated believer on her back. She carefully lowers the person to the floor.
Her own arms are wounded from the attack, but fortunately they're not fatal.
Since the integers awakened, this has been the only thing they've been doing.
210: Are there any other injured that have not been found yet?
888: I've scouted the island. Every remaining member should be here.
210: So you have.
He sighs, the ramifications of the situation weighing down on them.
210: It means the members not here have joined Manus Vindictae.
The hall is dead silent.
Just a few hours ago, it was alive with debates, ideas, and passion.
But now one half of the hall is gone, its seats buried under the shattered dome and crumbling walls.
888: Is 6 still in a coma, Ms. Marta?
The blind woman nods, concern etched on her face.
The banshee doesn't say anything else. She needs to clean out her own wounds.
The last few hours have been a whirlwind. Their faith has crumbled, the humans have invaded their island, and Manus Vindictae has turned them against each other.
But now, everything's gone—enemies, friends, and even the Truth.
All that's left are the moans and groans that fill the hall.
In the midst of the hushed void, some begin to pray.
Believer V: To you, O the alone infinite, the non-subsistent, the ineffable, I call;
Believer V: Grant me inspiration of nature, guide my soul with Truth.
These are the words of both sorrow and hope.
Words of contemplation and honor for the dead.
A brief respite where they can find solace to ease their pain.
Believer V: Give me power of enlightenment, tear off from the web of ignorance.
More people join in. Their prayers reverberate through the hall.
Believer V: Redeem me from the evil, hatred, and what throttles me down.
Believer V: Break through the ground of bad, corruption's chain, the carapace of darkness, the living death, sensation's corpse, the tomb I carry.
Believer V: Learn the beauty of Truth, the balance and limitations of all.
Believer IV: ENOUGH!
It's 29, the injured believer just carried in by 888.
A leg is missing, but he manages to get up and sit down against the wall.
Believer IV: Why are you still praying? The Truth is gone!
Believer IV: Who are we praying to? Who will answer us?
His outburst falters, turning into a bitter sob.
Believer IV: For generations, we have searched for purpose and meaning. But now that the Truth is lost, what is left for us to live for?
37: No, the Truth is still there!
A crisp voice echoes through the hall.
37 arrives panting at the door, accompanied by members of the Timekeeper's team.
37: I passed Apeiron's test, and It showed me the answer. It will free us from the wheel of birth, once and for all.
37: I just need some time to decode it!
She feels their stares weigh heavily on her—
—the wounded, the desperate, those who have lost their faith and their souls in the last few hours.
The Custodian walks up to her, still composed and steady.
888: We will do our best to help.
888: But, how much time do you need?
A crucial question. The girl averts her eyes.
Her confidence has waned since the last time she answered this question.
Vertin: I have someone in mind that can help us decode faster.
Elsewhere in this world, some people are also making the same efforts at all costs.
They, too, are studying the immunity to the "Storm."
Vertin: But I need your approval before I ask them for help.
This will require some finesse.
What's about to be asked might rattle the founding principles of their belief system.
Vertin: May I share the Truth with the others, 37?
The experiments on the side effects of the ritual are ongoing.
The list of conditions they've encountered stretches down the pages like a long, winding snake.
Lucy: The side effects are completely random. Among the current samples, the probability of no side effects occurring is 0.52%.
Lucy: And of the 81 recorded side effects, 39 of them will cause irreversible damage to the biological body; 24 will permanently alter the composition of the caster's body functioning;
Lucy: and 18 minor effects will cause only minor, superficial injuries that do not affect daily functioning.
Lucy: Laplace's Archives has enough rituals to protect casters from the minor effects, but the other two categories are highly lethal.
The list was made at the cost of lives, and she meticulously analyzes each item as if taking apart an intricate machine.
Lucy: After 72 experiments, the diversity of side effects has decreased significantly. It is unclear if this is due to repeated testing on a single subject, or due to a limited range of possible side effects.
Lucy: More than 90% of these effects are related to concepts such as "dirt" and "dust."
Lucy: Is it because of the origins of this ritual's power?
Lucy: Hm?
She stops briefly, scanning through the list again.
Lucy: The number of recorded side effects is 86, not 81.
Lucy: When did I write these five down?
A knock at the door interrupts her thoughts. Simone walks in.
Assistant Simone: Madam Lucy, Zeno's plan was a success.
Assistant Simone: With the help of Team Timekeeper, the leader of Manus Vindictae was teleported to a deserted military base and targeted with a thermobaric weapon.
Assistant Simone: It was a direct hit with no signs of life detected. The momentous event was captured on camera in the observation room.
The director nods in approval. It is good news, but she can't devote much of her processing power to expressing joy while she's focused on research.
Lucy: A tremendous victory. Please extend my congratulations to the admiral for this remarkable feat.
Assistant Simone: Also, you have two call requests.
Assistant Simone: One is from the Timekeeper, which Laplace received shortly after the battle with Manus Vindictae.
Assistant Simone: She is requesting remote assistance to help the Apeiron decode a numerical code related to the "Storm" immunity.
This information demands attention. The director's head snaps up.
Lucy: Put her through immediately.
Simone nods, but her shoulders remain tense. There's more.
Lucy: And the other call?
Assistant Simone: It's Kakania, the Viennese arcanist who helped Investigator Marcus in acquiring the ritual.
A hint of hesitation appears in her eyes.
Assistant Simone: We have updated her the progress of the study and the potential side effects of the incantation.
Assistant Simone: But she insists on knowing the right pronunciation.