You and Rosetta choose to use the blizzard as cover to break through the sealed enemy perimeter.
The snowfields roar like something dying. Sky and ground churn together into a boiling vat of white, thick enough to choke on.
The light turns into a ghostly gray-white haze. Every direction blends into every other. The world shrinks into a spinning cage of snow, and beyond it, nothing exists.
Inside this prison of wind and snow, you lose sight of Rosetta.
[player name], I can't see you...
No... don't come... Commandant, did you forget what we agreed on before we left?
If we get separated in the blizzard, we don't look for each other. It could alert the enemy.
No... just snow, and...
...It's nothing. Keep moving. I'll meet you at the evacuation point.
Grandpa... slow down. Wait for me.
Somehow, the blizzard's cage lets Rosetta slip through. The worsening damage in her M.I.N.D. has blurred the border between the living and the dead until she can no longer tell which side she's on.
The old man and the young girl walk over a low hill toward the forest. Warm wind sweeps across the tundra. Meltwater splashes softly beneath their steps, and the dawn breaks like spilled gold across the land.
This is the place...
Puff stops on a low hill, shading his eyes from the gentle sunlight.
Rosetta, look!
Puff points toward the small town where Rosetta has been staying. In the distance, fishing boats leave the harbor one by one. Morning light rises with the smoke from cooking fires.
Weather this nice doesn't often come in the Arctic. Who knows when we'll see a morning like this again?
Rosetta follows him up the slope, ready to look where he's pointing.
Rosetta! Wait for me...
The shout behind her forces her to pause. Before she can look at the view Puff wants to show her, she turns to see who's calling her name.
But before she can focus, a soft snowball hits her square in the face.
The mechanoid pursuers push through the storm, fighting the blizzard just as you would. Even machines struggle to move in weather like this.
But their metal minds don't understand a human idea like "adapt to the weather." They don't connect "terrible conditions" with "maybe stay inside." To them, a blizzard probably doesn't even qualify as "bad weather."
In any case, these mechanoids that treat a blizzard like drizzle end up spotting Rosetta, who's been stuck in a "rabbit burrow."
Mission target located. Mission target located...
More cold mechanoid lights cut through the howling blizzard.
The snowball's perfect aim gives away its thrower. Rosetta doesn't get upset. She simply wipes the snow from her face, and that's when she sees Lisa running toward her.
Maybe the rare warmth of this Arctic "spring" draws them out, because more and more residents of the departed town gather around.
Everyone... what are you all doing here?
To see someone off.
See who off? Is someone leaving?
You, Rosetta. Didn't you say you were leaving?
Wait, me?
More and more people circle around her, and hesitation washes over Rosetta. The sunlight is warm and gentle, but she shivers under it.
If... you haven't made up your mind yet, you could stay a little longer. There's no need to leave today.
Stay a bit more, please. You still haven't finished telling me all those fun stories about Babylonia...
If you leave now... I'll never get to hear the rest.
Lisa...
And I'll never see you again. Please... stay a little longer. I'm begging you.
The girl standing before her—forever frozen in the past—has tears filling her eyes, held back only by sheer will.
Grandpa, I...
Unable to bear the pleading faces, Rosetta turns toward Puff. But the old man keeps his back to her, gazing toward the harbor that waits like an open embrace. The faint tremble of his shoulders is already his answer.
(Should I... really leave?)
The departed surround Rosetta, whispering their longing, their unfinished affection. Their voices weave into a net heavy with gravity, pulling her inevitably back toward their world.
In that haze, memories of [player name] surface on their own in her M.I.N.D.
Child... [player name] isn't here. Neither of you should be here at this point, not yet.
Go back, child. The Commandant is waiting for you. Waiting in the world of the living.
The mechanoid pursuers tighten their circle around Rosetta. The blizzard traps her body here, the machines prepare to claim it, while her mind remains shackled to the realm of the departed.
This is the hardest part of the road to the evacuation point.
Something's wrong with the target's condition. Why is she alone?
That might work in our favor. If the target is disoriented, our casualties may be lower.
Can anyone understand what she's saying?
Doesn't matter. Let's proceed with caution... the missing squad was probably wiped out by them.
Even with Rosetta boxed in, the pursuers keep their distance. They remember what she did the last time they tried to corner her, and the fear of that memory holds them back. The circle tightens little by little, yet no one dares be the first to charge.
Stay alert! She's moving!
On the tundra of the departed, Rosetta makes her final farewells to the people she may not meet again for a long time.
I'm sorry, Lisa. I have to go back. Someone important is waiting for me.
But we're best friends... aren't we?
I already lost you once... and missing your funeral is something I'll probably regret for the rest of my life.
And I don't want anyone else to go through that kind of regret.
I can't let [player name] suffer guilt because of me, and I won't break my promise to the commandant again.
Rosetta... sob...
Don't cry, Lisa... [player name] told me once that we all become part of the departed eventually, and that "departing" is something that is always happening.
I'm not missing any more important moments between us. Not ever again.
So... please wait for me a little longer. Let me finish what I owe the living, and I promise I'll come back with more stories to tell you.
Her damaged frame groans under sudden strain, and Rosetta vanishes in an instant.
Uurgh!
Her halberd drives through her chest and tears free in one powerful sweep.
The severed mechanoid watches its remaining body become Rosetta's makeshift shield. The others take its fall as the signal to attack.
Moments ago, the pursuers only surrounded her, perhaps feeling a pang of fear at the fate of their fallen ally. But as Rosetta strikes, they finally charge over.
After saying goodbye to Lisa, Rosetta finds herself standing before a man and woman whose faces she can't recall. Her M.I.N.D. holds no memory of them.
Stay a little longer... Let us take a good look at you.
We never even had the chance to sit down together for a real meal.
I'm sorry...
Child, you did nothing wrong. If anyone failed this family, it was us.
Please... if you can, give us one chance. Let us make up for even a fraction of what we owe you...
The way you tried to make up for what happened to Amberia?
The two of them fall silent, stunned.
Grandpa told me you wanted me to live well, to be happy... and that was how you tried to atone for Amberia.
Rosetta raises her arm, looking at the modification lines and the scars buried beneath her bionic skin.
I don't know if I'd call myself healthy. I might've pushed this body you gave me a bit too far.
That's why I'm apologizing. And... I still haven't fulfilled the wish you had when you left me with Grandpa. So I can't stay here.
Mom, Dad, do you remember what that wish was?
The two stand frozen, sinking into thought. After a moment, understanding dawns on their faces, but before either can speak, tears already choke the woman's voice.
We just wanted you... to live. Healthy, and happy.
This world doesn't offer much health, and even less happiness... but I'll do everything I can to honor your wish. I'll keep on living.
So... goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad.
Nothing about a blizzard belongs anywhere near the idea of warmth.
The raging snow wipes out every advantage the enemy had. The wind twists every shot off course, and with less than five meters of visibility, aiming becomes impossible. Firearms are nothing but dead weight out here.
Mechanoids and a lone Construct—creations built with the highest military tech this planet can offer—are reduced to close-quarters combat, forced to bow before nature's wrath with nothing but blades in their hands.
Rosetta weaves through the tide of enemies. The air is dense and bitterly cold, every breath scraping down her throat like icy grit. Heat drains from her frame in an instant, as if an unseen maw were swallowing the world's last trace of warmth.
Her movements begin to slow. The blizzard that stripped her enemies of their weapons now traps her just as mercilessly. The storm bites at her unhealed wounds, and the window she has left is shrinking fast.
Ah...
Huh...
A brief misstep in the enemy's formation opens a tiny gap. Rosetta doesn't waste it—her halberd cleaves through two pursuers in a single swing.
Huff... haa...
She gasps for air, clinging to life with everything she has left.
CLANG!
Ngh... ah...
The wind and snow aren't her only enemy. Fresh wounds bloom across her body with every strike she fails to dodge.
This long farewell is drawing to its final moment.
Goodbye... Captain Staessen.
Goodbye... Atiel.
Goodbye... Temia.
...
One by one, she turns down the pleas of the departed. The crowd of the dead thins, until only an old man with a bow remains.
Grandpa...
Rosetta, it's time for you to go...
Rosetta says nothing. She knows it's time to leave, yet her feet stay rooted where they are.
After you leave, I'll take another walk in the woods. In this kind of weather, the animals must be restless too... haha.
...
Child... you push yourself too hard. It's not good for you. You don't need to carry every burden alone. Let others help you once in a while.
That Commandant you're always talking about... sounds like a good one. Tell your Commandant this old man says thank you.
I will. I'll make sure [player name] hears your message.
He talks the way elders do before sending a child off to school—light, casual, as if this goodbye were nothing at all.
Here, child. Want a bite?
He holds out a fresh fruit before her.
Eat, then be on your way. No need to worry about an old man like me.
There are people out there who still need you...
In the wind and snow, Rosetta pulls her halberd—shattered into two pieces—from the corpse of the final pursuer.
[player name]...
And the world you're fighting for still waits beyond this place...
The blizzard sweeps across the battlefield without mercy. Rosetta forces her battered body to hold together, refusing to become just another thing for the snow to erase.
You don't belong here...
Rosetta staggers forward through the directionless white, her many wounds telling the full story of the battle's brutality.
Crunch!
Rosetta takes a bite of the juicy fruit in her hand.
When she lifts her head, the old man is gone. Only the sunlit tundra stretches out toward the horizon.
Goodbye, Grandpa Puff...
She has finally said goodbye to every departed soul and begins walking toward the distant forest.
THUD!
Rosetta collapses face-first into the snow.
She struggles to push herself up, but the predatory snowfields cling to her like a magnet. Even lifting her torso feels impossible. Her wounds continue to devour what little strength she has left.
[player name]... wait for me...
She is now lying prone in the snow, its touch burning against her skin. Silence and darkness spread from beneath her, staining the endless white into black. This is the border of pure, directionless chaos—the land called "death."
She knows that if she stops now, she'll truly join the departed.
Through her fading vision, a figure tears through the raging snow and approaches her.
Through her fading vision, a figure tears through the raging snow and approaches her. It stops, then slowly kneels beside her—and she feels its stare cut straight through her. It's another version of herself.
You already know why you ended up in the realm of the departed, don't you?
You... the one pretending you're not already half-dead.
The blizzard intensifies, eager to bury the death lingering too long on these frozen plains. Even the dying woman's final footprints—her last unspoken will—are nearly swallowed along with the scattered corpses.
...
