Ruins of Ezette
Twenty Years Later
...Huff... puff.
AAAH!!
The room is silent except for the noisy whir of machinery and Kamui's voice, rising and falling in cries that are sometimes suppressed, sometimes hoarse.
Hah... Good thing the restraints are holding me down...
No matter how bad the pain gets... at least my body won't, ngh, freak out and break free on its own...
But this isn't enough... If I'm gonna make it as a Golden Sun... this is, like, barely scratching the surface!!
More!! AAAHHH—!!!
Warning: Punishing Virus concentration in simulation environment has exceeded theoretical safety parameters. Immediate termination of training recommended.
...Safety parameters? Those don't mean anything to me anymore.
Crank up the concentration. Keep it going!!
Having manually disabled the equipment's safety protocols long ago, he ensures no program can automatically restrict his operations. The alerts grow increasingly urgent, yet the golden solar essence in his chest remains utterly unchanged.
BANG!! The simulation environment's pressure exceeds its limits, collapsing entirely. With a thunderous crash, Kamui hits the ground, surrounded by shards of the shattered containment wall.
The damaged equipment forcibly halts all simulation settings. Like a fish gasping under a scorching sun, he finally returns to water just before desiccation, able to breathe again.
But this fish, its body cracked and broken, still struggles to crawl back onto the scorching shore, all for one more impossible chance to reach the sun above.
I can't... cough cough... I can't stop now.
[player name]... is still... waiting for me!!
Kamui struggles to his feet, refusing to yield even an inch. There are spare machines in storage; this one is broken, so he will just get a new one. He will not even permit himself a moment's rest.
Kamui!! [player name]!! The commandant—
You need to get to the med ward. The final critical condition notice just dropped, and the verdict is...
"Critical condition beyond recovery. Discontinue treatment."
...!!
Those fateful words barely finish before Kamui bolts from the room without a second thought.
It started with that Ezette mission years ago, continuing through every subsequent fall of human defense lines. For twenty years, he has heard such news countless times. In the few remaining, withering human outposts, devastating casualties like these have become the norm.
But every time before, they at least used the phrase "recommend discontinuing treatment." Never a direct order.
He knows exactly what this means. This is not a recommendation, but a notification. It means that every last medical treatment humanity still possesses is now powerless against the commandant's condition.
No... not like this... not now...
I've been looking everywhere for a cure... maybe we're just one step away...
While rushing to the medical ward, Kamui clings to his own reassurance. He has seen this before, back when he escaped from Ezette with [player name]. The situation was just as perilous then, yet in the end, the Star of Life pulled the human commandant back from the brink of hell.
After that, the commandant's health never again compared to what it once was, but the commandant survived, holding on for twenty more years, right up until this moment.
The only thing that matters is that the commandant survives. The commandant made it through the first twenty years, so he will fight tooth and nail to give the person another twenty years, maybe even a third.
All he wants is for [player name] to stay by his side.
—[player name]!!
But the scene he knows so well never arrives. The human commandant does not rise as if nothing happened, like all those times before. The person does not offer that familiar smile, does not tell him not to worry, that everything will be all right.
Instead, the commandant lies still upon the hospital bed, too weak to lift so much as a hand, too weak to call Kamui closer.
...[player name]?
Kamui steps to the human commandant's bedside and gently takes the commandant's hand in his own.
He will not accept this ending, one he has witnessed or lived through too many times before. The kind of story beat he despises more than anything. Not like this, so heavy with sorrow, so drowning in grief...
Not like this, with death about to claim the commandant.
[player name]? Hey... what happened to you this time?
That mission to Ezette... the aftereffects from your Mind Beacon have been messing with you all this time...
Is it your old injury acting up again? No worries, we'll just take some extra time to rest, and you'll bounce back. I'll stick with you through all the rehab sessions, promise.
Or maybe... you got hurt during your latest mission? Whatever it is, we can fix it. Just tell me where it hurts, okay?
I've learned all sorts of first aid techniques. No matter what kind of injury it is, I can patch you right up.
Wait... could it be a Mind Beacon thing? Don't sweat it, I've been working on becoming a Golden Sun. I'm gonna make it happen, and then I can help you...
You're gonna be okay... right...?
[player name], please say something to me. Anything at all, yeah?
Please...?
Anything at all... just say something again...
Tell me you're okay, tell me nothing will happen to you, tell me you won't leave me...
Within his M.I.N.D., Kamui senses the Mind Beacon of [player name] flicker to life once more. The light of it steadies his consciousness, grounding him by a fragile degree.
[player name]! I knew it... you're gonna be okay! I'll find a solution right away!!
Doctor!! DOCTOR!! Get over here, [player name] can still—
No, don't say that... How could this possibly be a waste? You gotta live, [player name]... Humanity still needs you!! And me, I—
I can't lose you either.
Yet even as it flares to life, he senses the Mind Beacon within his M.I.N.D. beginning to dim once more. It gutters like a candle in the wind, sputters like a lamp running out of oil.
It's my fault... If I'd protected you better during that mission, you wouldn't be dealing with these aftereffects...
And in all those missions after, you kept pushing yourself in battles for M.I.N.D. connection, and I couldn't do anything to help.
And every time I stubbornly tried to adapt to solar essence, you must have... taken backlash damage while connecting with me.
Why can't I carry this weight for you... If only I was stronger, if only I had more power...
If only I was a Golden Sun, then everyone in Strike Hawk, Babylonia, you—
Then none of you would be held back by me anymore!!
I failed to protect all of you... I was too late to save you...
I know. I know all that. I should've kept those promises...
But...
I really can't go on anymore... [player name]...
I've got nothing left. No Ezette, no Strike Hawk, no Babylonia, no friends to move forward with...
I don't have you anymore...
I don't have... a home anymore...!
Forgive him. Forgive him. He has failed every promise he ever made.
Finally, the tears come, spilling onto the human commandant's fingertips and the pristine white sheets beneath. Each drop, as it falls and scatters, blooms into a flower within this forgotten base, a place that has not seen spring's colors in years.
But now, even this flower is beginning to wilt.
...[player name]?
Kamui kneels beside [player name], frozen in shock. He waits. What if... perhaps the Mind Beacon still holds a flicker of life, waiting to reignite?
But the human Commandant's life has ended. Dead ashes do not rekindle.
...I see. This is another deep nightmare, isn't it?
Just like when I was adapting to my frame in Babylonia... And later, with every attempt I made at conversion...
It's just a deep nightmare triggered by M.I.N.D. turbulence...
There's gotta be proof to show it... I'll go find it right now!
Kamui bursts from the ward, hunting for proof that this is all a nightmare.
The storage rooms,
the arsenal,
the archives,
the comms room…
They have to be illusions.
But every location he touches is achingly real. He cannot run from this truth, cannot hide from it. And he finds nothing—nothing at all—to validate the one hope he clings to.
No... This can't be real.
Escape...? Yeah, escape from the old Ezette site. Maybe outside the base is where the real world's at!
Kamui races for the exit of the Ezette building. The corridor stretches on and on, but somehow, his legs do not tire.
...Huff... Hah...
There it is... The exit, and...
...And the reality he so desperately wants to get back to.
...
Why... why has nothing changed?
Shouldn't this place be... fake...?
...So this is reality after all.
Beyond Ezette, the prison that holds him still waits. Even if he fled these ruins, he would not know which way to turn or where he could possibly go.
Where am I even supposed to go? What can I... what can I even do now?
Everyone's gone. Nothing I do even matters anymore...
Ka... Kamui...
A child stands in the doorway, face bruised and cut, clutching several medicine bottles and rolls of bandages as he calls for Kamui.
You're one of those kids... the ones we just brought back...
Kamui, are you... hurt? I-I brought some medicine for you...
The doctor said you've been really tired lately, that you're not doing so good...
We all wanna do something to help you. You're the one who saved us... We don't want you to... to...
I...
Kamui watches the timid child. So many others like him still live here at the base, clinging to existence in this barren wasteland, fighting desperately just to survive.
He brought these people here. He wanted to give them shelter.
After everything they endured to find refuge again, they cannot lose their home once more.
I got it, kid.
Let's head back, back to Ezette. Don't worry, I'm fine.
...I'll always protect you all. Promise.
Kamui will forever protect the humans who dwell on this land. This is an oath he pledged long ago.
Just being able to stand is enough. So he might as well return to that nightmare and continue this one-man show. He will keep going, onward like this, until he offers humanity his last remaining ember.
"Home"
Ruins of Ezette
Ruins of Ezette - "Home"
Kamui carries [player name] from the medical ward to "home." Just like before, when he carried the commandant through enemy hordes to escape Ezette.
Together they move down the long corridor, past row after row of observation pods
He chooses an empty pod and gently places the human's body inside. But he does not rise. He cannot let go. His fingers curl around that cold hand, refusing to release it.
...How's it feel, [player name]? This spot comfy enough for you?
Just lemme know if anything's not right, yeah? I'll find you somewhere even better.
You should get some rest. You're wiped out. You can't keep going like this... Huh? You still wanna sit in on the upcoming strategy meeting?
'Course you can, but just stay put right there, okay? I'll handle things from now on. Can't let you push yourself anymore.
Only after speaking these words does Kamui finally release the hand within the pod.
Alright then, let's get this meeting started.
He crosses to the presentation board against the wall. A weathered map still clings to it, bearing years of accumulated markings.
There was so much cleanup to handle after our last mission. Can you believe it's kept us busy all this time?
But no worries! The wrap-up work's pretty much done, and it's about time we got our regular strategy meetings up and running again.
Strategy Meeting Number 9,617, presenter Kamui, now in session.
First on the agenda is... a status report.
Kamui faces the map once more, that great, weathered thing covered in the scars of years. Every mark upon it tells a story of humanity's journey through this broken world.
His eyes find the center, the most prominent place on the whole display: Ezette. He lifts a finger and taps it.
Twenty years ago, [player name] and I followed mission orders to come to the ruins of Ezette. We were searching for a device that could establish stable communications with F.O.S., and were planning to retrieve solar essence.
Yup, that's right. The very facility we're standing in right now.
But at that time... our mission ended in failure. The real Golden Suns were destroyed by Marlis, and all the survivors were slaughtered...
The communication device didn't make it either, so we had to evacuate with just the remaining solar essence we could salvage. After that, Babylonia could never contact F.O.S. again.
Even worse... the Phylotree of Ousia got exposed to the enemy, and Babylonia was always one step behind.
The enemy just kept taking and destroying what little humanity had left. And then...
Kamui shuts his eyes, and from the depths of his M.I.N.D., horrific scenes he witnessed firsthand begin to surface.
The map shows every tug-of-war battle between us and them. But... honestly, every single time, humanity just... lost.
Our strongholds kept falling, our territory kept shrinking... Ten years ago, all the survivors from Babylonia retreated to the surface, making the ruins of Ezette our new base to keep fighting.
Our casualties kept piling up, while our chances for hope just... faded away.
And then...
His fingertip finds each marked location, trailing a route that spans continents. And one by one, a cross is there to greet him, failure etched into every site they ever touched.
At last, his hand drifts to the map's edge, to a region still uncharted by humanity. There, a simple sketch marks the spot: an F.O.S. vessel.
We finally found a lead on F.O.S. and gathered all our remaining forces to go there. It's humanity's last ember of hope, one that might bring dawn again.
...But what we finally found wasn't paradise. It was hell.
It was a ghost ship. Everyone aboard F.O.S. was already dead, the vessel stranded in some nameless, deathly silent realm.
On F.O.S... there wasn't a single survivor. Instead, we ran into a crazy number of Hetero-Creatures.
We fought with everything we had and lost so many people before finally making it back. But [player name]'s old wounds opened up during the escape, putting the commandant in critical condition again.
...That's why we haven't been able to hold our strategy meeting on time.
After falling back to Ezette, they started to call this place home, a sanctuary for the dead, a shrine the living visit to honor those who have gone.
...But hey, thankfully, [player name] is okay now. You really gotta be more careful next time, you know? You can't just keep charging ahead without thinking about yourself. Your health comes first!
With a heavy hand, he lifts the marker and draws an X over the final untouched land on the map. The sprawling chart is now consumed by stark, unforgiving marks—all except for one name at its heart: Ezette. Broken, decaying, yet still standing.
They chased survival across the world, and everywhere they ran, they found only graveyards. But the first graveyard Kamui ever knew—that place of death—has become their final shelter. A thin light before the dark closes in.
So this... this is the only hope left for humanity on the surface now. Just this one place.
...Only one remains. There's no one else left.
This place is just like the meeting he holds by himself. Every observation pod
...I'm the only one left now, so don't worry. I won't fall. I promise.
I can't fall. Not ever.
I'll keep trying to fuse with solar essence and successfully convert to a Golden Sun... There are still other human survivors out there in the world. I'll find them and bring them back here.
I'll keep going. This is the only thing I can do now.
If sometimes I get too tired and can't go on... please let me pretend all of this is just a nightmare
That way, I won't feel the pain anymore.
Only now does Kamui grasp the truth: The words were simple when Odile spoke them, but living them is something else.
Not until every face he knew,
every soul he loved,
had slipped away did he understand that this lonely road, this endless march, is unbearable.
What is there left to protect? He searches for an answer and finds none. Maybe oblivion would be kinder. Maybe fading into nothing would be easier.
He has no homeland
