Long have you walked the land, Kal'tsit. The changes in the sky would not have escaped your attention.
The Seaborn raises its head slightly, gazing up with its non-existent eyes. Perhaps a habit from the time it still had them.
Above the dome, beyond the infinite water, something in the distance seems to have caught its attention.
Tell me, how long will it take for the hole to close again?
...I see.
Ægir was right. The Seaborn had a clear reason for leaving the ocean and invading the land.
You came because you noticed the change in the barrier.
I have seen through the eyes of we many who have ventured on land.
There is a ripple in the sky. The immutable veil has been torn open.
Your survival instincts have driven you to monitor every change in the environment... and the dangers they signify.
Dangers? Yes.
You are indeed sharp, Kal'tsit. Your program runs smoothly.
Our communication will be, effective.
......
The calamity that hangs above Terra. The eye that gazes upon us. Does it see the abnormality of the sky? Or has it already...
You understand Terra, Kal'tsit, and the crisis it faces.
You can. You must. Help we many understand, help we many evolve.
I sincerely hope this is the Seaborn's wishful thinking, rather than some kind of consensus you have, Dr. Kal'tsit.
Let it finish, Madame Consul.
The last chance is fleeting. The oceans of Terra are too small.
Knowledge. Nourishment. Space. We many must grow. We many require help.
Growing wings is not difficult, but insufficient. Going beyond the skies requires a revolution in the species' fundamental nature.
You have the knowledge, Kal'tsit. You help we many understand, and we overcome calamity.
Whatever their origin, the Seaborn are non-sapient creatures driven by instinct, ones that the Church fanatics have placed their unreasonable expectations on.
But you know far more than either of those two groups possibly could. How?
We are the same, Kal'tsit. You and we many, have the same duty.
Perhaps I should reframe the question...
How did the Seaborn evolve into what they are today? What do you have to do with Caerula Arbor going out of control?
Is the answer important to you?
I can speak of my own history, if it helps you understand my intention.
...We've waited two centuries for these answers.
What really happened in that failed expedition? What turned you into what you are now?
Failed? No. It was a success beyond our wildest dreams.
We penetrated the deepest layer of the mantle ruins for the first time.
The Predecessors carved open the rock and built massive, maze-like complexes reaching into the lower mantle. We'd never gone further than them, even after thousands of years of excavating.
The mantle ruins, the genesis of Ægir civilization. We thought we'd find more relics, more secrets, more answers there.
But all we had hoped for did not exist. All that was buried in those depths was a spark of hope.
...Go on.
I was separated from my team along the way. I was the only one to make it to the end of the path.
There, I saw...
A giant. Some massive thing sleeping in the shadow of the cerulean tree.
I did not see His entirety. A small part of His limb was enough to fill my entire vision.
That limb was touching the transparent wall of a sealed chamber. Perhaps He was waiting for contact, or perhaps...
Before I realized it, I was standing before Him and reaching out.
The wall of the chamber was cold, but I could feel His warmth. Then, visions surged towards me from every direction, inundating me.
A Feranmut shared its vision with you. What did you see?
Fallen cities under an oppressively hanging dome, the land aflame, the stargate extinguished, the Star Ring broken, the road network shattered...
The destruction of prehistoric civilization?
Yes. Ægir never discovered the reason for its destruction, but I saw a vision of it before my eyes.
Yet it was not the end. Visions continued to flow, visions far beyond my limited comprehension.
Eternally dispersing particles and oceans of sand that never ripple...
Cold, lightless plains and darkness without end...
Burnt-out stars and ever-expanding black holes...
Nothing there was familiar. I lost my senses, all of them, and even the Feranmut that shared vision with me could not sense His own existence...
It was an entirely alien place, without life, meaning, or information—
The Seaborn's words stop. Through its transparent skull, you can see the strangely colored nuclei gather, then disperse.
It seems to be thinking, and the nuclei represent the process of its thoughts.
But you, Kal'tsit, understand the meaning of those images.
...The crisis destroyed everything. It cannot be visualized; there is no word in our language to describe it.
It was the end of prehistoric civilization, and the calamity that Terra must face. It is the end of all things.
The horrifying images left me as I pulled my hand back, replaced by another image. One that was broken, blurred, chaotic.
He and His children shall devour all that is living, and consume the moons and the stars. All that is living and dead shall nourish Him, and He shall murmur at the end of time—
'Survive.'
Over and over. Survive.
'Chaotic', 'murmur'... was the Feranmut asleep?
He was trapped within a dream. The dream stagnated, evolution stagnated, duty stagnated. He was trapped in the cerulean cave.
Therefore, I must awaken Him.
Cassia!
Magister Avitus.
Did you and your comrades go into hiding in order to destroy the city from within? Waiting for when the Sea Patrol's guard was at its weakest?
You should be evacuating, Magister.
The Sea Patrol has noticed, Cassia. They're investigating you.
You're showing this much concern for me because that tiny embryo I left in the incubator reminded you of the past, am I right?
I'm just curious: Do you regret your decision?
Now is not the time for this.
The Seaborn have invaded Milliarium. Stop what you're doing, or the city will be lost.
Isn't it a little late for that?
Why did you...
Choose to betray Ægir?
I told you. The Seaborn have revealed the weakness of Ægir's very foundation. Before people can regain the will to live, the collapse of their values will have crushed them already.
Once, you were a great scholar. But what are you doing in this city now?
You found out about me a long time ago, didn't you? You had many chances to stop things from getting to this point. You could have reported me to the Sea Patrol at any time.
But you did nothing. You sat and waited, watching everything happen like a blind fin spinning in a whirlpool.
Did you come to Milliarium just to witness the destruction, and validate your own despair?
I'm not... I can still stop you.
As long as life remains tied to any value system, it is doomed to eventually collapse. Life itself should be reason enough to live.
We must rekindle our most basic survival instincts, and force the people to reassess the values they once held in such high regard.
Only by doing so can they be saved from despair. From becoming like you.
Like me...
Watch out!
(Cries and buzzes excitedly)
......
Hmph... Cassia got away.
The linkage here was sabotaged. No wonder it didn't work from the control room!
L-Leave this to me, ma'am.
The Seaborn are approaching.
My mentor at the Inquisition taught me some Arts... although my talents are nothing to write home about.
That woman worked at the Institute of Facility Management. She'd know how to sabotage the city unit framework...
I appreciate your courage, Jordi. I'll call in people to get this area under control. As for Cassia, she's mine.
(Rapidly flaps fins)
Wh-Whoa! Already?
Are you going to keep lying there, Mr. Avitus?
His student had vanished. Avitus gazes upon the young man who suddenly appeared before him. The fear in Jordi's eyes is obvious, but he lights his lantern with a trembling hand.
Jordi...
I heard your conversation.
You... You're not an evil man. But I'm disappointed in you. Very disappointed.
......
Did you come here with this city because you believed it wouldn't make it back?
What are you hoping for? Death?
You should have returned to land sooner, Jordi.
Look around us. The Seaborn will soon overcome the barrier between the city's units. It will all come to an end, just like—
You never answer my questions properly!
I may end up leaving Ægir, and leaving behind all my hopes and longings, but it won't be because it's about to be destroyed.
I've read 'The Death of Life,' you know, but it didn't answer any of my questions.
Let's say all your predictions come true, and that at some point in the future we'll have no choice but to watch our homes come to the end it depicts, just like that man in the book.
But does the destruction of a civilization really weigh more than that of a city, a family, or a person, here and now?
I don't understand. I just... don't.
......
I wasn't sure if I should say this, but...
You said your Familiar gave up on the idea of raising a child and died in disappointment. But was she disappointed in the future of Ægir, or...
In you?
......
The young Ægir musters all his strength. The lantern shakes violently, and the flickering light repels the Seaborn.
He gasps for air. Sweat rolls down his cheeks. Avitus can see his arm tremble, but if anything, it is himself who cuts a sorrier figure.
...Look out!
You have smeared your bodies on the outer wall, infiltrating through the trail of weapon fire before reshaping. What a convenient form of life.
Seaborn.
(Joyfully convulses its gelatinous body)
(Excitedly sways fine tentacles)
You, here.
Nest, we, seen. From nest, you, leave. Incomprehension.
Ul-pianus, kin. You, here, wait, us.
Ul-pianus. Ul-pianus. No, confusion?
—
(Pained convulsions)
......
No, need, pain.
Individual death, eternal. The many's survival, eternal.
Ul-pianus, I, lead, you. New individual, born, for you, help you... extend me...
Gladiia.
*Cough*—Ulpianus.
There is no expression on Gladiia's face. She holds her lance sideways, its point touching the floor.
An almost imperceptible posture, enough to mitigate the fatigue that continues to rush up from within her, and to support her as she stands before her long-absent colleague.
Your 'friend' is now a pool of goo, but you still need to answer its question.
......
Such rowdiness. This is really poor dance etiquette, you know?
Ha—
Dance is an art. It's all about elegance. You can't make it work with strength of numbers.
What? That didn't pierce it.
This used to be a cluster of coral changed by the Seaborn, but now it's a wall. No one knows how thick it is.
The warning from the city, the unusual movements of the Seaborn, the results of the abnormal surgery... We must get out of here and find out what's happening at Milliarium.
The entrance is gone?
No, it's us. We're losing our sense of direction.
Capsidization... Everything around us is hardening. The algal blanket, the unhatched eggs, even the waves.
This entire nest will become a hardened shell for these creatures to store their nutrients. A shell without a single crack. There is no way the three of us can...
Even worse, the stagnating environment is exacerbating our exhaustion.
Captain Gladiia? Shark?
Behind you—
(Hums gently)
Eww.
Nest, become whole. Soon, the sea.
You, kin. No harm.
We many accept you. We many protect you.
Here, much nutrient. Sleep. Only sleep.
......
The lethargy, which had heretofore been suppressed by the fighting, begins to spread through every limb and organ.
The thick and hard shell solidifies the waves. All is stagnant. The Hunters vaguely sense their consciousness sinking, as though there is no bottom. The Hunters hear the song—
Coming from right beside them, coming from inside them—
'Ishar-mla.'
'The hardship we suffer is ever present.'
'The life we thirst for is ever present.'
Over there... Skadi...
Roaring.
The faint roar comes from above. The thundering roar comes from beside. The stagnant seawater flows again.
The infinite ocean could be bound by a cocoon. Then, from where comes the force that can break even the cocoon?
Land. Moon. The scent of wheat. Home far away.
The force has become legend. It has shattered mountains, death, time, all that is tangible and intangible—
He will not be bound.
(Loud neigh)
—!
You, many, alike...
From where...
Hraaagh—
The waves, you built them, you hardened them.
Are you... turning this to land?
Will not allow.
Contradiction. Wilderness, mountains, rivers, wheat fields. Land is just land.
I seek, I reproach, I crush.
The one who was with Ulpianus...
Whew... A pleasure to see you again, Sir Knight.
You, not kin.
(Furious roar)—!
(Agitatedly twitches soft tentacles)
(Excitedly flaps creased fins)
Out of the way!
Doña Irene!
I've been looking for you.
Sorry, I...
Received Consul Clementia's message? Dr. Kal'tsit's group is headed to the port, but then we lost communications again.
We must return to the Eye of Iberia immediately, inform Lord Carmen, and help the Inquisition and Penal Battalion form defense lines.
No. We have to wait.
Why?
Most of the invading Seaborn are still under control near the beacon tower. If that unit can be ejected...
Then Milliarium is not yet lost. It can even organize a counterattack.
But the cultists have sabotaged the linkage to prevent it from being jettisoned.
The Sea Patrol is already cleaning up the Seaborn in the area. We can't let these slip away either.
I'll deal with them. As for whatever this linkage is you're talking about... Will your engineering skills help?
......
Yes!
I can fix it!
Good. You take the lead on that.
I'll protect you and Avitus. We can return to land as soon as we're done.
We worked together at the Eye of Iberia. Let's pray we do just as well this time.
But these Seaborn from the depths are different from the ones I've dealt with on land. I don't know how long I can hold them off.
We've said all that needs to be said, Mr. Avitus. Come and help, if you still have the strength!
......
Alright.
Hurry, Jordi!
Hurry, Jordi Fontanarossa!
You warned us through the beacon... And the strange knight who appeared at the lighthouse broke through the shell just as we were about to fall asleep.
Is he part of your plan too, Ulpianus?
The madman who's forgotten himself is an enemy of the sea, of everything abnormal that has become normal, and of himself.
No one can control someone like that. We just happened to travel together.
Are you the only one to make it back?
They're on their way.
Breaking through the nest's shell and returning through tides of Seaborn... Your speed was remarkable, but you're too late.
You've seen what's happening to Milliarium. The many have exploited Ægir, and Milliarium will be the stepping stone for their invasion of the land.
And what, precisely, is happening here?
The first thing I heard when I arrived at the port is that the Abyssal Hunter, Ulpianus, had entered the control room of the beacon tower and killed the weapons technology advisor of the Waterway Program.
And indeed, Blandus's body is right behind you.
......
You're quiet.
I assumed you'd feel more anguish over him.
I take it you've figured him out then, judging by your reaction.
I doubt we have time to discuss a fallen traitor... even if he was once our closest comrade.
That young man really did it.
The linkage has been repaired.
You're trying to eject the beacon tower from Milliarium... A wise plan.
It seems there's still hope for you.
This place will sink to the ocean floor in a few minutes. Do you smell it?
The stench of frenzy...The Seaborn above have noticed the changes to the tower. They're seizing the last opportunity to break the blockade and reach the other parts of Milliarium.
Leave, Gladiia. Now.
Come back to Ægir, Ulpianus. This is your last chance.
I still have things to clear up. If I give up now, all my efforts will have been for naught.
The dreams and end of the prehistoric civilization, where the Seaborn came from, where they will go, the calamity before our eyes, the destruction beyond the skies...
Being aware of them is not enough to turn the tides. I must learn more.
If the Seaborn have memories, I must know every last detail of them.
I'm not disputing that. We're back in the ocean, back in Ægir. We'll have many chances to approach the truth.
That is your way. And I don't disapprove. But we need more approaches, more angles, in order to maximize our odds of victory.
As you've said, I'm on another path now.
Will you still try to stop me?
Unless my eyes deceived me, the Seaborn I just killed had evolved specifically for you.
That doesn't just mean they are trying to accept you. It means that you also...
Correct.
Then you know well what being inside a rapidly hatching nest would mean for you, in your present state.
Answer me, Ægir. How much of your mind is still your own?
Is there even enough left for you to choose death?
It's the only way for me to earn the trust of these scum.
You're an outstanding Hunter, and a learned scientist. Are you really so arrogant as to believe you can control your transformation through willpower alone?
Accidents like the one during the auto-adaptive junction surgery will not happen every time.
I can't simply watch you walk down the path of destruction.
...You're at your limit.
We're both experts in violence. You'll die if we fought here and now.
Is that so?
Her lance draws a cold arc through the air. Ulpianus lets loose the chains, and his massive anchor flies at Gladiia, forcing her to leap up.
The sound of the building sinking drowns out the clash of metal. Seawater and Seaborn rush into the control room.
In the last moments, Gladiia watches her erstwhile colleague stand before the darkened holographic sea chart, calmly waiting for the colorful waves to swallow him.
Your description raises many questions.
The feasibility of modifying a Feranmut into a biological ark by leveraging its habit of fostering an independent ecosystem inside its body had already been verified on Talos.
The technology used by the project was mature.
And their complex was deep in the mantle. Energy coming from the heart of the planet could support the facilities' operation for almost an eternity.
The project had more than sufficient power supply.
Why, then, did the project deep beneath the ocean 'stagnate,' as you put it, and go out of control, releasing innumerable Seaborn?
The existence of Feranmut was introverted by nature, yet He was to turn all things to nourishment for His survival. He was given meaning that did not belong to Him, and a name that did not belong to Him—Ishar-mla.
The changes They were put to were bolder, wilder, more ambitious, and more despairing. Their nature had long since exceeded the biological ark you speak of.
For unknown reasons, however, Their subsequent actions did not follow the program.
Meaning that the project did not proceed along the planned lines, but the new direction was also interrupted?
Not entirely. He—They continue to foster new offspring within themselves.
But the lives trapped within the Feranmut were weak. They evolved too slowly.
The new generation needed to be liberated. They needed to leave the Feranmut's body, adapt to new environments, and obtain more nutrition.
More nutrition to be fed back to the Feranmut, so that His evolution may be accelerated.
Under normal circumstances, the organisms nurtured within a Feranmut are rarely able to venture beyond its body. Yet the aggression the Seaborn have demonstrated outside...
The modifications these Feranmuts have undergone were indeed transformative.
So it was you, Mártus, who brought the Seaborn into the ocean, and sowed the seeds of calamity.
Seeds of calamity? No, the offspring were weak, and Ægir was strong.
The seabed was governed by a self-regulating ecosystem. Offspring that devoured the algae fields would be discovered and destroyed before they could proliferate.
But Ægir should not have been an obstacle. Ægir should have provided aid. Fortunately, my influence in human society was still useful.
The Institute of Development Planning had already announced the deaths of the members of the fourth observation team of the mantle ruins at that time... You 'came back from the dead' just to corrupt your countrymen?!
I held no forums, no debates, only a few sincere conversations. I helped some discover the problem, and some discover the answer.
It was enough that they were willing to give the Seaborn an opportunity. We many will find a way out eventually.
The ecological disasters, the fallen cities, the citizens lost... How many of those were you responsible for?
Was it you who cajoled Blandus and the cultists behind him to infiltrate the Waterway Program and alter our weapon systems?
(The nuclei within its skull spin)
This so-called Church of the Deep is not a formal organization, at least not in the sea.
It needs no guidance, no leader.
Not an organization... You mean you manipulated the people's thoughts and behaviors only using their faith and tenets?
How did you implant the ethereal concept of 'god' into them, when such absurd ideas were completely absent in Ægir?
Civilization could never truly purge the idea of primal worship. It awaits at the end of science, ready to be awakened at a moment's notice.
The Ægir you call 'cultists' do not know the truth. Each of them acts according to their own thoughts and ideals. Each faces their own questions and dilemmas.
'Selfishness and altruism.'
'Flaws and perfection.'
'Nature and civilization.'
'Logic and unreason.'
'The differences in strength and the shackles of form.'
'The limitations of ethics and the future of humanity.'
'A manufactured truth and the beautiful cycle...'
(The nuclei within its skull spin)
A scam? No.
Primal worship originates from the survival instinct.
Every thread of thought by every 'cultist' ultimately leads to a single question: How to survive better.
Faith? Tenets? No, only a desire for survival.
You struggle for survival too, do you not?
The survival of life itself.
Just as the survival of civilization inevitably involves the destruction of many more, the survival of life inevitably involves the end of many.
Many species have gone extinct due to the activity of the offspring, while they gathered nutrition for the Feranmut. I once recorded the number, only to forget it.
For the moment Ishar-mla awakened, it had become a meaningless, insignificant number.
The birth cries of the newborn, interwoven with the wailing of the dying...
Songs brought Silence.
......
You knew the consequences of awakening the Firstborn from the very beginning. A disaster for the entire ocean, for countless species. But you show no remorse whatsoever.
You even gave up on recording the number of sacrifices. Was it because you'd gone numb after taking so many lives?
But numbness is no excuse for your crimes, Mártus.
The consul steps forward. Her ceremonial sword is elegant, but the light reflecting off it is chilling, cutting off the sightline of the Seaborn gazing towards you.
The Sophontheatrum. You designed the building that inspired so many of our people... myself included.
But you stand here now, calmly explaining how you pushed Ægir into the abyss.
I've seen images of you. A gentle, meditative observer who has the habit of constantly pushing his large glasses back up his nose.
Look at you now. Even the richest of thoughts can only be expressed by the simplistic movements of your cells.
You still have your glasses on your neck. Is it to reminisce about old friends whom you have no right to reminisce, or to mock the dead whom you have no right to mock?
......
If you are Mártus the Ægir, then I hereby pass judgment upon the fallen.
If you are merely Seaborn, then we'll skip the formalities.
The organelles surrounding the Seaborn expand and parry Clementia's attack. The ceremonial sword cuts into the shadow of the coral-shaped terminal.
Mm—Gurgle.
You cut off my control of the terminal?
(Breathes scorching fire)
(Howls furiously)
......
Emergency transmission. This is the 10th attempt—
The Seaborn have taken over the beacon tower. We cannot stop the conversion! But someone has activated the ejection protocol for that unit—good job, whoever you are!
Bio-signatures keep soaring in number. The nests are becoming one—
Incoming Seaborn tide! Scope is the entire continental shelf! Repeat, incoming Seaborn tide! Scope is the entire continental shelf!
Emergency transmission. This is the 11th attempt—
......
This is Consul Clementia. Citizens of Milliarium, heed me!
Once the city unit containing the beacon tower has been fully ejected, the rest of the city shall break through the Seaborn encirclement and move towards dry land!
Reactivate the linkage mechanism in the city's framework and perform a structural reorganization. Force fields at full power! We'll stop the Seaborn tide from setting a single tentacle onto land!
Legions VIII and X, along with the Sea Patrol: send all operational warships out in turn to escort the city!
May Ægir and our forefathers be with you.
You were looking for an opportunity this whole time... consul of Ægir.
You're tough.
We... too. Once.
......
......
Is it Ægir or the Seaborn who are trying to open up a Waterway? The readings are off the charts. The endless Seaborn tide is approaching us at the very moment...
This is beyond the lighthouse's computational capacity!
Su Santidad?
I hear you.
Look in front of you.
Those deep colors between the sea and sky are a tide of Seaborn.
The wind grows quiet... There is no point in trying to estimate their numbers and scope now.
Experience is better than data. I've seen the ocean like this before.
Do you mean the... the Profound Silence?
......
Leave the rest to the Penal Battalion and the Inquisitors.
R-Report!
Two divisions are ready for action. Ægirian drone matrices are helping us fine-tune our defenses.
Ægir...
Sir... the ocean... Something's rising from it.
Is that... an Ægirian city?
Having sailed for thousands of miles, Milliarium rises to the surface of the ocean after casting out its heart.
Every inch of it is being reformed, supported by its framework. An invisible forcefield extends towards the bottom of the sea and the highest reaches of the sky, forming a structure like a great wall.
The structure breaks the surface of the ocean, creating a giant wave a hundred meters tall. However, on the other side of the city, the real tide has arrived—
It is a living wave. Seaborn of various forms have fused with the ocean. The children of the sea are the sea itself; they have even changed the color of the water.
The city from the depths and the roiling tide stretch out at the same time, colliding, embracing, and ripping at each others' throats.
Nature never tires, yet civilization will not stop its footsteps.
......
......
All is quiet. No wind dares tell of what it sees, here and now.