Price and Sacrifice

I should really be waiting for your medulla replacement surgery to finish and your cell-Originium assimilation rate to stabilize before I handle any of your Hunter-related issues.

But time is short, and I have no choice but to restore you to stable condition to the best of my abilities.

My apologies, Laurentina.

Sentimental as always.

Ah, right, as usual...

A candle will be lit by your side, so our little mermaid won't look so pale while she sleeps. I've asked my staff to prepare it for you.

I knew you'd remember.

Please maintain a comfortable position and stay still while the regen gel fills.

This isn't so different from back then. Except there's a lot less Hunters now.

Clear a trench of scum, close your eyes, listen to some advisor prattle on, then sink into the regen gel and take a nap.

And once you wake up, all the nauseating smells left on your body will be gone without a trace.

While you were in the adverse, fickle environments of the land for long periods without care, your bodies became extremely unstable.

The auto-adaptive junction can monitor your Seaborn genes, but five years of wear can render even the most precise instruments dull.

Moreover, your immune systems have also fallen into disorder thanks to their long struggle against the Seaborn genes.

I will do my best to restore you all to peak condition, but anything lost during those five years is out of my hands.

Okay.

Gladiia, our reunion at the tribunal was less than cordial, so I would have liked for us to consider this our first meeting since your return.

But you haven't said a word since we started.

Is there anything else you need to tell us in regards to the surgery, Blandus?

If not, then save it for after the procedure. We can discuss the changes we've felt over the past five years, as well as the changes you've felt.

......

Please stay still. Anesthetic procedures will begin in ten seconds.

Well then. Sweet dreams, Hunters.

Advisor Blandus, some things have come up that need your reconfirmation.

Did I not say that once the operating theater doors have closed, I would be mending the Hunters' auto-adaptive junctions and must not be disturbed?

Central Control has discovered some abnormalities. You should personally check them over, just to be safe.

...Hold on then. I'll get the door.

The monitoring units in the dome were performing an emergency scan. We noticed a concentration of algal bio-signatures here.

Thanks for informing me.

Not a problem.

Since you're already participating in Tullia's case, there was no reason to cut you out partway.

A place where the dome and the ground meet... This former experimental field for road-side coral.

Though it can't compare to the specialized setups at the Institute of Ecological Art, it's much better for seaweed breeding than small-scale hydroponic tanks in a room.

Whether it be in her nature, or out of an ulterior motive, Tullia did not apply for authorization to use this space. She found it on her own, without telling anyone.

Tullia...

We can't say for sure if there is a Church hideout here, or if Tullia is still within... In short, stay alert.

Team 1 has already formed a defensive perimeter around the neighborhood, and will monitor the roads. Irene, go with Team 2. Enter via surface roads.

As for the roads connecting the dome and the mezzanine, leave them to me.

Got it.

Move out.

Who's there?

Have you found something, Praefecta Secunda? Do you need reinforcements?

...Stick to the plan.

......

...It's been a while, 'Magister.'

Blandus, the weapons technology advisor for the Waterway Program, and an expert in Class IV weapon R&D, correct?

...You're not from the lab.

No sudden moves. If the bristles of this longbeard combtooth grass pierce your skin, you'll quickly fall into a tormented dream, where you'll sense your consciousness being slowly torn apart.

The variety used for euthanasia has been bred to be milder, but wild ones are still plenty cruel.

You may look half-dead, but I know for a fact that you're the sort who really cares how they die.

Church of the Deep?

Don't you dare touch the anesthetized Hunters!

What an odd fellow. Even as your life is threatened, you think of them first?

You may care for the Hunters, but you've never trusted the Abyssal Hunter project itself. You question its rationale, its damage to the nature of humanity, and all the sacrifice it requires.

You took part in it, but only so you could personally control all the risks entailed.

You experienced its demise firsthand; saw the extensive project, interlinked with so many others, come to a hasty end after an uncertain failure.

So I doubt you'd want to send these survivors, freshly returned to Ægir, back onto the battlefield.

No, you don't understand. What I do is only to protect them from further harm.

So why not halt the procedure? Stop them from joining the battle for the Waterway Program?

The surgery is fully automated, I can't just stop it.

Sever the oxygen pipeline below the operating table, and it'll cut the procedure short. Don't think we don't know that.

If you won't do it, we can do it for you.

After you finish 'handling' the Hunters, Advisor, come take a walk with us. Explain the principles behind the Class IV weapons, as well as how to shut them down.

Stop! If the operation is forcibly terminated, the Hunters will be irreversibly harmed—

Scum.

—!

If you do not wish me to ram this straight through your chest, let go of your hand.

What are you doing here?

Don't ask pointless questions, Secunda.

......

You're investigating Tullia, too. Did you find anything?

She is simply an ordinary data scientist who got caught up in this. She discovered something she shouldn't have. Attempted to warn the authorities, but failed.

You were too slow. What she encountered has nothing to do with her past.

The battle outside the city, the abnormalities within, the Sea Patrol staying uninvolved with the Waterway Program. You've noticed many oddities, yet at the same time, your attention was so easily diverted.

You mean... Cassia?

Precisely.

You were once so focused, and keen as well.

So the day you decided to leave the Abyssal Hunter Lab to join the Sea Patrol, I believed you had reflected upon yourself and chosen a more suitable path.

It seems that was not the only time you have allowed emotion to cloud your decisions.

...Aside from your clothes, you haven't changed a bit in five years. Especially not how you talk.

Whether as a researcher or a Hunter, you'd never refuse to hear a student's questions, but would refuse to answer if you thought the question itself was wrong.

There are no worthless answers. Their worth lies in the questions.

Questions are the most effective means of tempering your thoughts, and your questions were always most pointed, Secunda.

Then there should be no fault with my original question. What are you doing here, Ulpianus?

This is the scene of a Sea Patrol investigation. A fugitive Abyssal Hunter like you should be laying down his anchor and making clear his position.

Gladiia and the others have proven an effective force in the battle for the Waterway Program, while despite also surviving, you chose to return to Milliarium like this.

...That's more than enough grounds to attack you.

Their return will only make the situation more volatile. Even through Tullia's case, it's clear that the so-called 'Waterway Program' is riddled with issues.

Ægir has learned nothing from the failure of the Abyssal Hunter project.

What are you going to do?

Prevent this nation from sliding into the abyss.

I'd say you're looking awfully like our enemy now, though.

Doubt me as you will, Secunda.

(Shrill crying)

What's happening in there?

A ordinary Ægir, doing all she can.

But Ægir will no longer show her any respect.

Who're you—?

Irene...

Ulpianus?

What the—?! Why aren't you asleep?!

I'm not the only one.

......

......

Hello. I suggest moving the hand carrying that whatever-grass away from the advisor's neck.

I told you to move it away.

The real researchers are in the instrument recycling room, probably injected with paralytics. They won't wake up for a while.

I also took care of the goons in the corridor.

Did you leave any alive for questioning?

They won't die before the Sea Patrol takes them away, at least.

Gladiia, Laurentina, Skadi...

Not going to explain the trick you played with the regen gel, advisor?

......

*sigh* My dearest Blandus, just to be clear, we are no fortune tellers.

Swordfish thought something was off from the start.

We've undergone hundreds of surgeries. We've probably spent more time sleeping in gels than in our beds.

You should know that even if the operation failed to restore us to our full potential, we would still have returned to the battlefield.

......

As I told Ulpianus when he came to me, all I wanted was for the participants of this program to live like normal people again someday.

I wished for my fellow people, who'd come from all walks of life, to have the chance to finally return to their former lives.

Skadi could continue her life of wandering, hammering away at complex lighting arrays while taking pictures of the seabed nobody else would understand.

......

Laurentina's skills could let her become the next shining star of the Institute of Physical Art.

We could watch the graceful stars projected across the dome, while she dances alongside the meteors in the Sophontheatrum.

Or perhaps we would find her works on the street corners of each and every city.

......

Flavius, the seaweed breeding technician. Nona, the songwriter. Lunia, the exotic organism researcher. And Celsus, the youngest ever scientific exploration fleet commander.

We both still remember the names of all these Hunters, Gladiia. We've both had our fill of sacrifice.

This is far from the first time I've heard this little cliché of yours.

Your feebleness and stupidity are already enough to earn you a death by my lance.

Luckily for you, those Church scum arrived at just the right time to save your hide.

Are you saying their actions have coincidentally proven my innocence?

That's not what I wanted, Gladiia.

What I must do will not change.

Your innocence is of little relevance.

My point was that by choosing to expose themselves now, risking everything to stop us Hunters from rejoining the battle, and even holding an advisor hostage...

All it shows is how effective the deployment of the Waterway Program has been.

Blandus, weapons technology advisor of the Waterway Program. Abandon your little tricks, complete our surgery, then return to your original post.

Clementia's orders are that once Nest 37 has been successfully marked, the Class IV weapons are to immediately strike against all nests by the Waterway.

The Church is grasping at straws. As one can surmise from what those dregs were talking about earlier, they will not stop.

......

The Abyssal Hunter project no longer exists, Blandus. If sentimentality clouds your mind and renders you feeble, tear it out. Forget it.

Gladiia.

You're the same as ever. No, even stricter with yourself.

What I ask of myself has no bearing here.

Just yesterday, out of two entire fleets, we were only able to save twenty-six people from the Seaborn encirclement.

Before we entered this old lab, I had just learned that those twenty-six legionnaires had already applied for positions in the newly-drawn army.

War is never-ending, and no soldier can tear themselves away from the battlefield. That's all it is. Nothing more.

...Seaborn.

(Muffled cry)

(This clumsy posture...)

(As though it's unaccustomed to its body...)

You can still speak. You still have your humanity. Tell me, what happened to you?

Left... and returned...

Data. Someone used... Waterway, signal...

I told, her. But she...

Told who?

Ocean... Fall into—ocean.

City left. You. They're still... here...

*whimper* So far...

......

Give her some space, Irene. The Seaborn cells have completely transformed her body. Her mind is near the point of no return.

We've handled similar transformations. This stage in Seaborn degeneration is extremely unstable. It's far beyond the point where we can provide palliative care.

You sure took your time.

I ran into something.

We've been misled.

Someone deliberately engendered suspicions regarding the scientist's past and her motives for joining the Waterway Program. It's led the investigation astray.

You mean that woman from the Institute of Facility Management.

That's right. Cassia. Once we're finished here, the Sea Patrol will inform the Institute of Facility Management and arrest her.

Tullia noticed occasional abnormalities in the signaling system and told a friend, possibly Cassia. She exposed herself to the Church.

She'd have been chased towards the fringes of the city, where she fell into a drain and was carried out to sea by the city's circulatory system.

Do you remember how we found pieces of biological tissue on our excursion outside? Crossing between two anchorage points without equipment is far beyond the limits of the human form.

So in her desperation to return to the city...

She ate that strange flesh.

......

(Muffled, indistinct murmuring)

What's that she's holding?

Plant nutrient fluid.

Her consciousness should be gone by now. Don't tell me she returned to the city just for these... seaweeds?

'These primitive seaweeds are some of the simplest, yet most tenacious lifeforms in the entire ocean.'

'Whether in bright shallow seas, the dark abyss, the flat sea floor, or cracks in the cliffs, they stretch out as best they can.'

'And they're as old as the ocean itself, pretty much this planet's living fossils.'

(Violent shudder)

(Pained wail)

Bio-monitor readings increasing rapidly! Her transformation is accelerating!

Why did she suddenly stop? Did something happen?

—

Yes. I believe... she saw what she had become.

...A data scientist, yet also a woman as simple as the seaweeds she cultivates.

She chose to stay, or perhaps knew that following the Institute of Ecological Art to another city would not truly have helped these seaweeds as they gradually lose their place out in the wild ocean.

But now... she has become one of the pollutants threatening them herself.

I believe she can no longer answer our questions.

It seems you're familiar with this sort of thing.

I once heard a Seaborn play a broken song aboard a ship.

I apologize for underestimating you earlier, Irene.

The land and the sea are connected. You may not have experienced the frontlines of the Seaborn conflict, but you've witnessed both what has changed and what has not, equal in their weight and cruelty.

But for now, let me handle this.

She is an Ægir.

(Wails)

Her journey ended♪

Her home close at hand♪

This song...

She chose this place to sleep.