Devout Follower

My flowers... they're all gone.

Do not step forward.

This part of the building has suffered repeated structural damage. It has a high degree of instability...

Urgh—!

Clément, come back.

No, Senior Federico... I need... to look one more time.

You previously stated that the flower you are looking for is not here.

I did, I just wanted to check... all the flowers are dead. And not one... not a single one... had the luck to be saved.

Ahh... ha... hah...

......

I am unable to analyze your behavior.

I am unable...

I planted these flowers myself... to stand for friendship and hope.

But they stopped caring about those things long ago. Nobody follows the flowering seasons anymore. They forgot the one thing above all they shouldn't forget.

Isn't it ridiculous? How some could suspect Raimund of the fire, just because he's a Sarkaz?

After living beside each other for so long. The harder the times, the closer we should come together... so His Excellency says. I want like nothing else to believe him... and by all rights, I should.

But the truth is placed before me, and I can't turn my head away.

Why do barriers never cease to be? Is mankind doomed never to understand one another?

The tiniest chaos is enough to shatter the order. The moment confusion envelops, people begin to hurt one another...

Enough... I've put up with it for long enough.

*cough*, *cough* *cough*—Disgusting...

Clément, put down that object.

Put it down? No...

*cough* *cough*...

Last night, I was intending to go to confession, but ended up overhearing the Abbot's plan...

It made me think—surely, at least Gerald and his people didn't need to take part? They were about to leave anyway, weren't they?

But why... did it all turn out this way?

......

I'll eat of this until it's gone.

You are not doing this to prolong your own life. Why are you still attempting to change?

I just want an answer.

I want to know... if there's any being in this forsaken world that can save us.

*cough*, *cough* *cough*...

Ah... is this—blood?

So what—this is it? What's the—*cough* *cough*—what's the point—without...?

Respiratory rate quickening. It is possible that the blunt force trauma has caused bleeding in your lower respiratory tract or lungs. If steps are not taken, it may lead to suffocation.

You require prompt medical treatment. Until then, I will perform first aid on you.

No—*cough* *cough*—I...

Hah... hahah...

Look at me, aren't I entirely alright...?

So even this turned out to be false. The Abbot was made a fool of. There's no God out there...

*cough*...

What you ate originates from some kind of oceanic detritus. It is exceedingly probable to have induced mutation on the physiological level, but it has never had anything to do with the God you speak of.

Hah... ridiculous...

You are in terrible condition.

If you continue to worsen at your present rate, you will enter shock, and the risk of death will be enormous.

Really? That's just... not bad...

......

If you wish to leave any last will or testament, I am able to serve as your executor nominate.

Will...?

...No...

I don't have anything to leave...

Lateran... Our Paradise is a lie. Your faith is hollow.

Any friendship, faith, hope, future... it's all gone. No one can really be saved...

No one... no one can truly find redemption...

Still the lingering sound echoes, still I can feel it... A shake from the strings to my fingertips in the final moment, a last note so sharp it could tear skin.

Yet at the outset, that melody was calm as a babbling brook.

Someone otherwise so ordinary used his own life to prove one thing—that there is no such thing as a Savior. His unyielding mind triumphed over his own changing flesh.

Such beautiful music... This is the spirit of Mankind, tenacious and free, of a timbre those lamentable sea creatures could never know.

This song will bring his story to all.

They will understand his feelings, exalt his determination, and sing praise of his courage.

Clément Dubois will be remembered forevermore.

—Wouldn't you say so, Federico?

I was expecting you'd stay there a while longer. After all, you seemed to care greatly about the man who died... You even thought his affairs were higher priority than capturing me.

Federico, have you learned compassion? Or are you still as you were, unable to discern the emotions others feel, estranged from the crowd?

Fugitive Arturia, your Originium Arts have once again induced the death of another. I cannot ignore the greatest threat within my firing range.

Per the laws of Laterano, your sentence will be extended again.

It was his will to seek death. Even had I not performed, he would still take this path.

Time after time, I simply shed light on the scars across these poor people's hearts, and what do bystanders do but turn and look away?

Are you stung by his experiences, just as others are?

......

Federico, you still can't make sense of uncontrollable urges even now, can you? Just as the abbot persists along his path of thorns...

...Just as I cannot help but want to perform the emotions of others.

I certainly cannot make sense of them.

Whether I do or not, it has no impact on my implementation of the law.

But I proceeded to the sacrarium so that Clément would earn his rightful treatment.

He was not worthy of death.

—Oh?

You wanted to save a man who intended to destroy himself.

Haven't you realized? That's not a notion logic would fit at all.

Clément said that once a flaw, imperfection, or wound manifests in something seemingly perfect, it is broken beyond repair.

...I will test the accuracy of this statement.

You have become just a little more amusing, Federico... but only that little bit. Perhaps, come next we meet, that's when I'll be able to play your mind.

Sadly, it's time I wrap this trip up.

Excuse me, might you be Frau Arturia?

I've been waiting for you.

My apologies—we were the ones who extended an invitation to you as our guest, and yet I was late to arrive. Finding this place was an ordeal.

Erm, have I perhaps come at a bad time?

Federico!

Man oh man, I look at this scene and my brain is a pretzel.

Federico, how did it happen that you faced off with Arturia?

Good morning, Herren of Lateran.

Good... morning, gnädige Frau.

(Federico, her coat of arms is from one of the Kurfürsten, the Principes Electores!)

You can't make a direct move against Arturia right now. Laterano-Leithanien ties would be at risk...

...I refuse your suggestion.

Are you done talking it over?

Actually. How about, Federico, I give you one chance?

If you want to point your gun at me, then this is where you want to aim...

Just pull the trigger, and your bullet will pierce my skull. And from then on, I would never bother you again... Federico, do you want to do that?

Why don't you give it a try?

......

I am required to arrest fugitives. If the situation does not necessitate, then shooting to kill is generally not advised.

But your argument is extremely rational.

What are you—?! Listen to me, this could be an INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT!

Hold on, Oren, I don't think things are that serious...

No, she will be fine. You do not understand this woman.

Heheh. I'm only playing a little game.

Frau Arturia, is this some kind of applied Arts?

Even so, what you just did was far too dangerous.

Thank you for your concern. I'll be cautious next time, should there be one.

Federico, think of this as a clue from me to you.

Have you ever felt like there's a performance that never ends, but you just can't hear it?

That until its grandest, most wonderful passages, everyone is deaf to it?

......

Well, then. The music is over, and it's time I went on my way again.

Herrschaften of Laterano, auf Wiedersehen.

If you'll excuse us.

......

You're actually just gonna stand there and let them go?

I thought it'd take at least Richele and me at the same time to hold you back.

You are extremely noisy.

What? Hey, Federico, where're you going?

He's headed for the area by the clock tower. If I remember right, that's where... the abbey's cemetery is?

Alright, no more gawking, all's well that ends well. Plus, we've still got things to do...

Senior Federico?

Seniora Arturia...?

They're gone...

It's okay, let's go look somewhere else!

Eep! Why's there a man lying down here?

Shh, he's asleep. We shouldn't wake him up...

Oh!

I know who this man is. He grows really pretty flowers! Same kind as Mamma always brings home to put in the vase!

Mmm...

What are you doing, Sara? You know Mamma gave us that?

But—he might catch a cold sleeping here...

Mamma said good kids learn to be app... precive.

You mean appreciative.

Okay, we'll let him borrow it for a bit then!

Mmm. Once he wakes up, I hope he'll keep growing heaps and heaps of pretty flowers.

Yeah, I'm sure of it!