Birth

Andoain, according to this machine—or rather, the Law—you cannot handle any further information.

And your prior overuse of Originium Arts has already had an adverse effect on your body.

You are to stop attempting to access the machine immediately, before you cause permanent damage to yourself.

More information...?

No, I still haven't seen anything. I still don't know anything!

But this should not be... Why?

These past ten years, all this suffering, all these sins... Was it all just to meet with a silent god?!

I can't stop here, Federico.

...The child.

Is this yet another dream?

It's not. The Law would not construct a dreamscape for you alone.

Federico chose to communicate with the Law in its own language, while you cannot understand it, nor are you willing to accept such an impersonal tongue.

It is you who, word by word, line by line, 'translated' this language into what we see now.

If this is not a dream, then why... are you still alive?

Because you wanted me to live, Nurturer.

I set off that bomb myself... You were there.

Not only did you want me to live, you had great expectations of me.

You hoped I would live a happy life. You hoped I would break through the dome of the Shrine of Nurtury, that I would fly up and touch the sky.

You hoped to see my feathers shine in the sunlight, to see my talons clasp frolicking musbeasts.

You looked up the tallest tree in Terra on the intercity net, didn't you? You thought that, since I'm an arborbeast, I would much rather climb a real tree than comfort bells.

I did. Atop the mountains of Sami and amidst the forests of Bolívar, there are great trees straight out of legend, stouter than the Tower of Revelations, taller than the Basilica...

I really did think about bringing you to see them. On the net, I saw other arborbeasts up in the canopy crying out to the sun.

I wanted to see you cry out in carefree joy, just like them.

Hmm, where did things go wrong from there?

When did you stop treating me as a real life?

You know, don't you?

The funeral. My mother's funeral.

No matter. Come with me. This time, we shall leave behind no regrets.

What do you mean? Is the funeral still going on?

The funeral shall never end.

He is unresponsive.

Is he suffering from the same condition as the Pope?

...

I still have doubts.

The ultimate purpose of the Law is to grant halos to all organic and inorganic matter, this I know.

But choosing the Summit of Nations as the method of achieving this... Is this the decree of the Law?

It's far too inefficient, and its feasibility is questionable.

The Summit was meant to found a Terra-wide religion, something unprecedented in the civilized history of this land. Mere proposals, negotiations and revelations of 'miracles' will be insufficient to achieve this.

Not to mention that according to the information I just received, the moment the very first Sankta received their halos, they abandoned their Teekaz mission without the slightest hesitation.

If my understanding of the halo is correct, bestowing one on an individual is completely unrelated to their faith?

The Summit of Nations, the Nativity... These may both be based on an unnecessary precondition.

I must confirm, what is the true nature of the halo?

And what is the Law, or rather, your self-designation of 'PCS'?

That confirms it. My understanding is correct.

Since the Law is able to synchronize personalities and knowledge—

Why not simply synchronize everything directly?

'Convention'. A form of regulation.

Is the Law restricted by any other regulations?

Who established this convention? What mechanism ensures it is followed?

A regulation that nobody can enforce is pointless.

A Law unrestricted by this regulation should be able to ignore principles and break taboos.

Which means I still require an answer. Why were halos used only for empathy before all this?

The answer I obtained earlier was that a majority of humans, rationally, are unable to withstand the direct transmission of information via halo.

But using emotion as the vector of information transfer is even more vague and inefficient, while also being greater burden on the receiver.

Is there a possibility that the issue isn't people lacking the ability to receive information, but rather...?

But rather that emotion blocks their ability to process this information?

If the Law that regulates everyone is a system, a machine... Why does He choose to retain humanity's emotions?

Why... retain our humanity?

We've been walking a very long time now.

We've only just started. Normally, a man would hope for his journey to be a little longer.

But nothing's changing as we walk.

Patience, you'll be seeing something familiar very soon.

That coffin... I've seen it before.

A Sarkaz they called hero was buried in it.

I've told many people this story. I still remember... that he gave up his life to save everyone in town.

Even though before he did so, he was a dirty, filthy drunkard, spurned by all.

You didn't stay in that village for very long. You never knew that whenever he drank, he would go about the houses in turn, vomiting over their doors, all while never paying his debts.

Even if he had borrowed the life savings of others. People would scream things like 'moron' and 'lowlife' at him, but in his eyes, he was getting off lightly.

When you told this story to the children, did you ever wonder why he so abruptly decided to do such a noble deed that night, a deed the likes of which he had never done before in his entire life?

I never figured out why.

Perhaps he had undergone an endless bout of inner struggle and self-questioning, or maybe it was just the urge for a bit of goodwill he couldn't shake.

All I know is that he didn't do it to be a hero.

He died, after all. It doesn't matter if we sing his praises, look at him with scorn, or even forget about him. None of that changes anything about him anymore.

Those only have meaning for the living.

True. Good or bad, reputation is beyond the care of the dead.

But isn't the process of going to your death also a part of life?

Those who do not fear death can do the most hideous things.

During their most carefree of days, rare is the man who will stop to examine himself, for his eyes are fixated on a future filled with limitless possibility.

But there will come a day that the fog of death ambushes him, a fog that cannot be thrown off no matter how he struggles.

And there will come a day that he will, in exhaustion, accept the fact that the remainder of his time will be his journey to the afterlife.

From that moment onwards, to live is to approach death.

That rainy night, that dirty, filthy Sarkaz drunkard... When he saw that coffin atop the cart, and the figure at the town gates...

He knew that was his one and only chance to approach death with some dignity. To him, it was not vanity, but relief.

Perhaps so, but...

There are always people who do not look towards their deaths.

Are there? Not you, at the very least.

Otherwise, you would not value a funeral so.

You once told me in all earnestness that my mother gave the last of her strength to me. You cared if she died with love in her heart.

You went out of your way to arrange a funeral for her at the Ecclesia Requietum. You cared if she received a proper burial.

You even cared if we were feeling sad enough at her funeral.

How could you not care about how you will face your own death?

I have my path to walk. I've never thought about when death will come for me, or how I should greet it as I follow my path.

Because you still believe your path has meaning.

This... This is that revelation!

Through the spiritual light, even the darkest stain can be cleansed. With a pious heart, even a savage monster can wade out of the mud.

They have no halos above their heads, yet they still walk towards a future where all can be saved!

I must go! I must see what road they follow!

But you're about to go to the funeral with me, aren't you?

You want to make up for past regrets, right past wrongs, to look upon me as truly alive once again, to give me the happy life I deserve.

Is that not so?

I...

But you said the funeral will never end. If it's just a momentary distraction...

I must go...

No need to explain yourself.

This is how you've always been. Always losing yourself in the search, always eager to sacrifice.

So go, go see what you're searching for truly is.

...Keph?

That's Keph?! Why...?

Keph, a Lateran name meaning 'hollow stone' or 'stone-bound law'.

The First Saint of Laterano, who named herself after her encounter with the Law.

However, this ancient name she gave herself has been buried deep within the annals of history, alongside her true face.

So the future I worked so hard to find, that future where all are saved...

Was just a past deliberately buried... It was just the road we came in on?!

Always losing yourself in the search, always eager to sacrifice...

It did not stop at sacrificing yourself. You sacrificed Lemuen. You sacrificed Mostima and Fiammetta. You sacrificed your brothers and sisters of the Pathfinders. You sacrificed me.

And all this time, you never even knew where this path paved with sacrifice led...

All you had was blind faith.

Tell me, Nurturer. Do you want to save everyone, or do you think only of consoling yourself?

...

A similar tale to that Sarkaz drunkard, isn't it? Your so-called 'path' is merely your one and only chance to approach death with some dignity.

You think only of saving yourself.

No matter. I can offer you even greater salvation.

Look. We've arrived at the burial ground.

This place is kinda scary, Doctor.

I tried to reconnect to the machine, but all the ports have been blocked.

We can infer that she still possesses some degree of control over our current predicament.

Sorry, Doctor, I'm just as confused as you are.

I followed your guidance, and checked a few potential places to slip away from... They're all no-gos.

This is different from the dream that machine made...

Basically, we're trapped.

Hmm...

Is there the possibility, Doctor... that she can't do anything to us—

Do you see these ever-changing buildings around us?

The city known as Laterano is currently experiencing dramatic upheaval, and traces of the damage it has taken will occasionally be mapped onto here.

Changes in information in reality should not be overwriting data inside Originium. This plan still has flaws.

I see there's still a great deal of misunderstanding between us, Doctor.

I believe I can now answer your prior questions. The ones pertaining to the precious results we managed to obtain, alongside the shared vision pieced together by we countless many.

Right now, under my instructions, PCS is reaching its theoretical operational capacity.

This means it is able to include even more targets in the same language system, far beyond an army or a research team... but rather, a multitude of races.

Through this, connections can be strengthened. Barriers can be broken. Differences can be eliminated.

That's not such a bad thing. Not the Sankta, not for all life on Terra.

I can't deny that... though we would benefit as well, of course.

I didn't calibrate PCS to churn out soldiers or scientists we can order about.

Such a plan would collapse at the slightest hint of true disaster. Originium is our only solution.

Needlessly complex biological information will only serve to slow its progress, but PCS has the ability to unify the races into an integrated whole.

It can merge the countless lives of Terra into a singular race, who will pave the way for the expansion of Originium.

As for whether this unified race can still be considered 'Sankta', I don't particularly care.

It seems PCS is rather set on this outcome, going so far as to autonomously perform many unnecessary inferences for it to come to pass.

It should not have this degree of independence. Perhaps a side effect of the sudden increase in throughput, or an abnormality caused by its long period of disuse...

If we have the chance, we can spend some time looking into it as a fun diversion... but not right now.

I-I... really don't think she's hiding anything, Doctor.

Hiding?

Rather than allowing you to fool around and break my samples, Doctor, I think it would be better if I showed you around personally, just like old times.

None of this will stop, Doctor

Aren't you interested to see the ultimate outcome?

Something's wrong, Doctor. I recorded the route we followed to come here...

From the Shrine of Nurtury to the Tower of Revelations, then on to the Notarial Hall in Pagus Michaelion, which means the Sunset Chapel is up ahead—

And then there's those unusual scenes of destruction around us. They keep being mapped onto here, which means the chaos in Laterano is still ongoing.

You should be able to clear your thoughts this way, in a safer manner.

The place you seek is ahead. The location of PCS...

As well of the destination of the 'Sankta' pilgrims—

The countdown has begun, Doctor.

Seriously, not even time for a breather?

Keep it quick, Fiammetta.

I'll cover you while you're reloading.

...

What's with the look? We've fought together before. It's not easy to forget how you do things.

Gratias.

Hey, Mostima, mind explaining to me what the hell just happened?

I was kicking a monster's ass when I stepped in one of those weird light puddles on accident, and...

Stolide! My boot sprouted a halo outta nowhere!

It's one of the Shrine of Nurtury's projections. If you don't feel like being turned into stuff your brain can't even process, then stay away from it!

And how're we supposed to do that...?

It's spreading way too quick. It'll kick us out of Pagus Saint Marcel before that pack of monsters even gets here...

None of us can stick around to play defense at that point!

We've stuffed the big pipe organ in the Sunset Chapel full of explosives. Our friends from Leithanien added some self-igniting enchantment on top of it.

Even if nobody's around, it should still be able to blow these freaks to kingdom come.

The one they used to play the dirge for the city-wide memorial service?

That's the one.

Sweet. It's had to listen to hundreds of years worth of prayers and sobbing. It's time we play it something with a bit more pep.

Let's get out of here, Patia. Our spent shells have started getting halos.

The Tower of Revelations in Pagus Ecclesia and the Notarial Hall in Pagus Michaelion have been lost. The Sunset Chapel in Pagus Saint Marcel is the last stop before they reach the Basilica.

If our bombs don't stop them, then we really are screwed.

Hah, if Federico and Andoain were right, and the procession really is headed for the Basilica... I think it's too early to throw in the towel.

I've been a Legatus for a long time now, so I've got experience with getting places quickly.

Look, Mostima, there's a big difference between blowing up a pipe organ and incinerating the entire Basilica!

Hey, if boots and Sankta can both have halos, I don't think there's that big a difference between the organ and the Basilica.

...

Fine, you're right. Since we can't block or kill that giant monster, we can at least think of a way to make the road not exist anymore. She'll never be able to reach her destination.

You sure we're talking about the same thing here?

Let's go! Withdraw to the plaza in front of the Basilica!

*sniffle*... *sob*...

Wh-What's wrong, Romya?

Stop crying! You're giving me a headache!

Don't be like that, Hugo.

Why do we need to take care of these crybabies, Sister?

Can we leave Laterano? This place isn't anything like what Aurela said...

Not as nice, right?

Yeah!

I think so too.

So we should be glad we came to see for ourselves. Otherwise, how would we have known Aurela lied to us?

We were rather lucky this time, weren't we? Once Aurela comes back, we should give her a good talking-to!

R-Right, Sister.

Let's continue with the story, children.

(Shakes head) I-I'm scared...

No need to be afraid. Listen. We can still hear the bells, right? The bells of the holy city will protect us.

*sobs* ...But those sounds are so loud and scary.

Hugo, Giselle, do you hear them as well?

(Shake heads)

(Is it empathy? That monster's empathy, the procession's empathy, an entire city's worth of empathy...)

(We're so far away, and yet...)

East of the east of La Unidad♪

Laterano, holy city of white♪

Romya, i-it's a hymn...

Senior Nurturer taught it to us...

Sister Nueda?

You all know the words, right?

There, the earth hides no bombs♪

There, the fields share wheat most bright♪

...

All shall bask in His love♪

R-Reverend?

I can ask our blessed companions to sniff out her position.

There was a time when, with her gun-knight armor and custom rifle, she would break the guardian gun kill record over and over. Finding her will take time.

The procession can't wait, Velliv. Focus on your work. I'll handle this myself.

...

It's been ten years. I'm surprised this private frequency still works.

I wanted to ask the folks at the Notarial Hall to delete it a long time ago, but I keep forgetting. Guess I've gotten old, haha.

The real surprise is you, Aurela. Why didn't you take off your armor when you left Laterano?

Without it, how am I supposed to settle things with you... Magister?

*sigh* You really hate me, don't you?

It seems the saint was right. The best motivators for the errari to return to the holy city are hatred and loathing.

Heh.

So you're saying this mysterious 'Fall' that affected all of Terra brought out their bad side?

That might be so for others, but for me... You know better than anyone else.

Naturally.

I will never forget what you did to me.

In that nomadic monastery, you wounded me yourself, read the Curia's banishment order to me yourself... You took everything away from me, yourself.

You committed mortal sins. Your punishment was pretty light, given the circumstances.

*sigh* I am responsible for your situation.

Aurela, your achievements earned you a commendation from the Pope himself. You were such a spirited young thing. I was convinced you would become the greatest gun-knight in history.

But all I taught you was how to control that cumbersome armor and master your complicated gun. I never helped you with your temper, so you could truly live the Lateran life.

And in the end, you took that final step... just as I had predicted.

Hmph. Am I supposed to thank you for worrying about my character flaws?

Just because of it, you never approved of me and Amos. You even refused to come to our wedding, even though I had hoped to get your blessing.

Maybe we should have a proper talk about all this.

One way or another, you have returned. Will you come to my side, child? My people will not refuse you, if you join the procession.

What, want to give a sinner like me another chance in the name of Laterano?

No, nothing so lofty.

The errari are still of Laterano. That is all.

In a better Laterano, everyone will find their place and play their part. There will be more foundational, more profound connections between us all.

No matter who you are, no matter what you have done, the Holy City will mend your halo and fix the flaws you were born with.

When that time comes, all our pain and regrets will be healed in turn.

No thanks.

Aurela...

Listen, old man—

I hate how self-righteous you are. I hate how weak Amos was. I hate how inflexible the Curia is. I hate Laterano's stupid garbage about harmony! I hate how cold this Paradise is!

I never forgot this hate, even over ten years in Bolívar!

Even though my halo shattered, even though I was trapped in the dirt, I never once doubted that I would return!

Even when I was enthusiastic and wet-behind-the-ears, I never felt as sure of myself as I do now!

This is my connection with Laterano! This is my faith!

Your student turned out to be a cruel, vicious, selfish soul. Even if she hadn't fallen, she was still no angel!

Tell me, old man, this 'better Laterano' of yours, if it will let in someone who was born evil, does it deserve to be called Paradise?!

Or are you unsure about that too?!

...

Question time's over.

You've been trying to get a bead on me all this time... Failed?

You've actually gotten better since you left, Aurela—

Grkh! *cough* *cough*—Flagritriba!

These new glasses Vani got me... turned out really clear...

—!