Enigma: I never thought it would be the Timekeeper and the Apeiron arcanists who'd solve the problem. But now, even humans can cast this ritual.
Laplace is now in a rare state of tranquility, for the researchers have done all they can; there's nothing left for them to do.
With only 4 hours to go, this is the final calm before the "Storm."
Lucy: Indeed. The knot is the physical form of the ritual we were looking for. Surprisingly, the numerical code yielded practical results.
Lucy: I thought it was necessary to report this to the Timekeeper's organization. It was her contribution.
Lucy: But it did not go well.
Attendee: Forgive the interruption. What's a knot?
Lucy: I will be glad to answer your question.
Lucy: Knot theory is a branch of algebraic topology. In mathematics, a knot refers to a connected closed curve in three-dimensional Euclidean space that does not intersect itself. They can also be described as shapes in three-dimensional space that are homeomorphic to circles.
Lucy: Knot theory focuses on the entanglement and configurations of closed curves in three-dimensional space, rather than the curves themselves. Since all closed curves are homeomorphic to circles, they can all be topologically categorized as circles.
Lucy: A knot equivalent to a two-dimensional circle is called an unknot. And ...
Attendee: I don't mean to question Laplace's expertise, but this approach may not be the best solution for widespread implementation.
Attendee: The concepts are complex even for us, let alone others. We can't expect to give an advanced math lesson to every individual under these circumstances.
Attendee: Doing math before the "Storm"—nobody's got time for that!
Lucy: As it turned out, presenting a technical report was much too premature. We should have a complete and official report once the immunity gear is produced.
Enigma: Maybe you can change your approach the next time you report to the Foundation.
The robot shakes her head, disappointed by the failure of her report and the listener's math level.
Lucy: I simply gave them honest answers.
She turns her head and looks thoughtfully out the window.
Lucy: But, this solution is deserving of widespread implementation.
Lucy: All we need is a piece of rope, and tie it end to end.
Lucy: And spend three to five minutes to make this knot.
Lucy: This can be done anywhere, at any time, by anyone using any type of cordage.
Lucy: The oldest, fastest, and most basic ritual, the key to braving the "Storm" ...
Lucy: ... is a knot.
Enigma: Why didn't you tell the House of Integratus? I'm sure they would've funded us generously.
Lucy: I will make sure to put it in my interdepartmental report.
A rare hint of frustration flickers across her face.
But she quickly moves on to a subject that deserves her attention.
Lucy: But at this point in time, the knot only functions like an incantation.
Lucy: It is not suitable for widespread use until the research on the side effects and the converter are complete.
Enigma: In any case, I've completed all the tasks you assigned me.
Enigma: My last plea is, please never put Ulrich and I on the same team again.
The researcher lets out a deep yawn, feeling as if he hasn't slept in ages.
Maybe he can catch a quick nap before the final battle begins.
Enigma: Hm. I'm surprised that you're not in the lab. Something bothering you?
Enigma: Wait, don't tell me you're charging here?
The robot turns to him, an approving smile on her face.
Lucy: Excellent job, Researcher Adler. You have proven that you are keeping the locations of public outlets in Laplace in mind,
Lucy: which is a positive sign for your resocialization.
Enigma: ...
Lucy: But I am powering up to reach my optimal condition, preparing for what is to come—
Lucy: The scroll of Apeiron, the final piece of the puzzle, the key to minimizing any negative effects caused by the incantation.
Lilya: Whoa! The designers on Artificial Somnambulism could use some of this inspiration.
Lilya: Look at the clouds, painted with a syndrome of colors and interrupted by a glorious streak of rainbow. It's truly a masterpiece!
The red blur streaks forward at lightning speed, but the Olitiaus are still in hot pursuit.
Their skins are becoming increasingly vibrant due to the Storm Syndrome.
Lilya: Funny. They're flying towards the headquarters out of instinct. Maybe they can sense immunity zones?
Lilya: These little beasts would make for a good study.
Lilya: But I'm not in the mood to take any prisoners.
Lilya speeds up again, trying to lose the pursuers that are swarming behind her like a dark vortex.
In front of her, under the clouds, the gray buildings of the Foundation are now clearly visible.
Lilya: Fuel and ammunition are running out.
Her altitude is low enough. She can almost see the hallway outside the committee room.
Lilya: Heh. Maybe I should storm the vice president's office with them? But other people might get hurt there. Never mind.
She makes an abrupt turn, her mind racing with ideas.
Lilya: Dive into the lake? But the splash might wet the scroll.
Lilya: Wait, isn't that ...
Sprouts from the forest. That looks like a signal to land.
Druvis III: Ms. Lilya, this way!
Lilya: Ha. Good timing!
Her friend's presence has given her a clear sense of direction.
Without a second thought, she charges into the new forest with the huge herd in hot pursuit.
Just before crashing into the trees, Red 38 changes course and rockets upward in a perfectly straight line.
But the creatures behind her have no such finesse.
One by one, they slam into the mesh woven by the dense tangle of trees and vines.
Foundation Staff II: Enemies intercepted. Ally landed successfully.
Foundation Staff II: Ms. Druvis, the Olitiaus are all ensnared in vines!
The druid closes her eyes, savoring the fresh air.
Druvis III: The winds of triumph sweep through the woods. An excellent flight, Ms. Lilya.
Druvis III: We will take it from here. Come, everyone, we shall vanquish our foes with the aid of the woods.
COMBAT
Marcus: The special operations squad is ready to go.
Marcus: Dr. Kakania, are you really going to stay here?
Kakania: ...
She shakes her head, her fingers tight on Marcus's communicator.
For more than ten hours, she has been waiting for Laplace to respond.
Marcus: ...
Marcus lowers her eyes, burying her face in her scarf to hide the tears.
The doctor quickly notices it, her voice softens and changes to a lighter tone.
Kakania: Don't worry about me, young missy. This won't be goodbye forever.
Kakania: Besides, I have already provided all the help I can, right?
Kakania: I made Isolde show us the ritual and kept her under control. And now you've figured out how the ritual works.
Kakania: To test its results, you will need a couple of volunteers.
But Marcus doesn't seem to find comfort in her words.
Marcus: But you heard the report from Laplace: the possibility of surviving the ritual is nearly zero without a converter and the scroll ...
Kakania: Nearly, they said, but not surely.
The doctor interjects briskly.
Kakania: Plus, where else can I go?
Kakania: I was born and raised in this city. This is where I came from, where I lived, and where I belong. This is my whole world.
Kakania: I despised the maggots under its golden surface, and fought for the justice and fairness in our society. But I also cherish every detail of this city, from the intricate carvings on the theater columns, to the dirt trodden by dock workers.
Kakania: All of these things made me me—my family, my friends, my people, and my operas and culture, are all here.
Kakania: I never once thought about leaving this place.
Kakania: I have never thought about destroying it, either.
She looks up and sighs sentimentally.
Kakania: Being washed away with it would be a just punishment for all my sins.
Yet her eyes are free of darkness and despair.
Marcus can clearly see her determination.
Marcus: I wish I could be as brave as you are.
Marcus: See you, Ms. Klara.
She gently reaches out to her.
Not far away, the special operations squad is ready to go.
The helicopter begins to whirl. Its last errand of the day.
Inside the cabin, Isolde sits between two "Razor" operatives, her wrists bound in cuffs.
"Razor": Hurry, ladies! Before any of us turns into one of those exquisite paintings.
"Razor": Sorry, but the headquarters is too far for the teleportation disk from here. You'll have to bear with us smelly old grunts for a little longer.
It is time to part ways.
Kakania: Goodbye, Ms. Marcus.
Kakania: Sharing this era with you has been an honor.
Their warm hands clasp in a powerful handshake.
With a wave to the teary-eyed girl, Kakania turns around and heads toward the city of madness.
Isolde: Is your birthday approaching, doctor?
She twirls sharply around at the entranced voice.
Isolde reaches out into the air, still in a dream she's unwilling to wake up from.
There, the world is unchanged, and each day is filled with bliss.
For a prisoner in the Foundation's facility, perhaps dreams will provide the solace she needs.
Isolde: I made this for you.
She holds out a brooch. A piece so exquisite that it, too, seems to be an intangible figment of a wistful dream.
The golden setting nestles the sparkling gem in place, a gift undoubtedly made with great affection.
Isolde: Turquoise and Topaz, just like you and your eyes.
Isolde: Please accept my blessings, doctor. May your life be filled with joy and contentment, and may your courage guide you through all that comes your way.
Isolde: You are worthy of all the beauty and goodness this world has to offer, and I will hold you in my heart and in my prayers, forever.
Today isn't Kakania's birthday, nor can she see her reflection in Isolde's lusterless eyes.
The Star of Vienna holds up the brooch, yearning at the emptiness before her.
Kakania: ...
If one were to die today ...
What would she say to her long-time friend?
Kakania: Sweet dreams, Ms. Dittarsdorf.
She takes the brooch and pins it to her jacket.
The communicator at her waist crackles.
A ray of hope shines through the static.
Kakania: ...!
Kakania: Madam Lucy! Any progress on the research?