Nala's tears have dried up. Lilya looks around and frowns.
Lilya: I guess you haven't had an easy time either.
Rain and blood.
Lilya: I have bad news. Igor's just started a rebellion.
Vertin: ...?!
Lilya strides forward.
Lilya: He's got an army.
Vertin: What's the situation at their base?
Lilya: Not good. There was fighting and bloodshed. Lots of it. The rebels must've won.
She takes a long swig of liquor in an attempt to steady her emotions.
Lilya: Those traitorous bastards!
Lilya: What about Lopera? Did she defect, too?
Vertin: ...
Vertin: All I know is that she was sent to the colonel's manor earlier.
Vertin: But why would Igor ...?
Vertin: If Lopera's also joined the rebellion ...
Worse than expected.
Lilya: The old fart set us up!
A burly figure appears in the entrance to the Veterans' Residence.
It's Duncan, Lopera slung on his back.
Mr. Duncan: She's injured!
Vertin: Mr. Karson!
Mr. Duncan: It's Duncan, kid.
Mr. Duncan: But that's not important. Lopera needs medical attention!
Lopera: I'm fine. Ugh! Damn you, Igor!
Waking up from her deep slumber, White Rum looks around to see the courtyard in disarray and an injured Lopera.
As Duncan gently places Lopera on a chair, she races up to her.
White Rum: Oh, my darling little buccaneer! Who did this to you?
Vertin: Lopera, could you tell us what happened?
Bloody and dirty, yes, but her injuries aren't serious. She only has a few scrapes and bruises.
However, her eyes are swollen as if she's just been crying.
Lopera: Igor ... He took Dores!
Vertin: ...?!
First, Zeno soldiers try to take Kimberly; then, Igor orders the kidnapping of Doctor Dores.
Anjo Nala: So, are you going to go after him?
Vertin: Yes. But you should stay here. Igor still wants you.
Igor mustn't succeed.
Vertin: We'll come back for you later.
Anjo Nala: Okay.
Lilya: What now, then, Captain? There are no Foundation branches nearby. If we request reinforcements, they'll be too slow to arrive.
Vertin: ...
Vertin: Then we go ourselves.
Lopera: Count me in. I have to talk to Igor.
Lopera: He owes me an answer.
Lopera grits her teeth.
Vertin: White Rum, could you take us to the Zeno base?
White Rum: Anything to save the doc! Anchors aweigh, mateys!
Back at the Zeno base, the rebels are organizing the final stages of their retreat.
Moldir: You screwed up.
Ptolemy: It's just a minor setback.
Moldir: Father isn't happy.
Ptolemy: Look, I'll deal with her, okay?! Next time, I'll—
His defeat is a consequence of his own arrogance. It's a bitter pill to swallow.
Moldir: There won't be a next time. We can't just waltz into the Foundation and take her.
Moldir: Anyway, are the aircraft ready?
Ptolemy: Yeah. Father and the doctor will be boarding soon.
Ptolemy: Who is she, anyway?
Moldir: I don't know.
Her answer is honest. She rarely questions her father.
Her duty is to obey and execute—while holding onto a sliver of her own sense of justice.
Ptolemy: Looks like Father hasn't told you everything either.
Moldir: You should never entrust all the pieces of a puzzle to a single hand.
Ptolemy: Huh, all this time with Father's made you quite enigmatic.
Ptolemy: There's a charm in mystery, you know.
Around them, soldiers are busy transporting supplies and burning sensitive documents in fires.
Ptolemy: Are you not coming with us on the helicopter?
Moldir: Someone has to stay behind and organize the retreat. You go ahead with Father. I'll join you later.
Ptolemy: Sometimes I just don't understand you, Moldir.
Moldir: Oftentimes, I don't understand myself either.
Moldir: Perhaps that's why Father always keeps me close.
Moldir: Just get going. I'll take up the rear.
The sound of gunfire echoes from outside the courtyard.
But she pays it no mind. Whether it's an internal conflict or a counterattack from the Foundation, it doesn't matter.
Zeno Soldier: Ma'am, we're under attack!
Moldir: Don't get entangled with the enemy. Focus on the evacuation.
Moldir: How many hostiles are there?
Zeno Soldier: Th-Three, and a sailboat.
Ptolemy: A sailboat? What is this, the Age of Exploration or something? Hahahahaha!
Zeno Soldier: One of them is flying some kind of aircraft. Oh! She's fast. Two squads are currently engaged with her in courtyard A2.
Lopera: So, you're just going to leave me here in São Paulo, huh?
Two rebels break through the defense line and rush over to her.
Lopera: Where's Igor?!
Her hands are bloody, the muzzle of her gun singed red from the repeated use of her arcane skill.
No sign of the admiral, only the unwelcome sight of her older brother.
Ptolemy: You've grown taller since we last met, dear little sister.
There's a hint of malice in his voice.
Ptolemy: Woah, woah! Don't look at me like that. I don't care what you do. Come home, or stay with the Timekeeper. I won't stop you.
Lopera: Get out of my face.
She raises her rifle.
This scene looks all too familiar. Time to execute another traitor.
But someone steps in front of her.
Lopera: Molly?
Vertin: Ms. Moldir.
Vertin: It's unfortunate that we have to meet again under these circumstances.
Moldir: We've simply chosen different paths, Timekeeper.
Moldir: I suppose the next time I see you, we'll be in Antarctica. Ptolemy, go join Father. I can handle this.
Her brother turns and leaves.
Lopera: Molly, why?
The remaining soldiers gather around the lieutenant, their weapons raised.
Moldir: Forgive me. I can't let you pass.
Moldir issues a command to her remaining soldiers.
Moldir: Soldiers, take aim!
COMBAT
The battle ends. Not one of Moldir's soldiers has survived.
She falls against the wall, blood oozing from her forehead and shoulder. Faced with her sister's gun, she cannot—or perhaps doesn't want to—move.
There's sorrow in her eyes as her gaze meets her sister's.
Lopera: I don't ever want to see you again.
As the bullet casing falls to the ground, so too does a tear.
Vertin: We couldn't halt Igor's escape.
Vertin: More rebels came at us following the gunfire, and we were forced to flee the base.
Vertin: We failed.