Crassus' Home
Port Po███
Night
Crassus slowly shuts the refrigerator door.
Right... yeah...
He remembers now. He never used to touch alcohol.
He always told himself never to lose control. At least, not in his own life.
As the most senior worker at the shipyard, he wanted to set an example for the younger ones.
The shipyard had seen too many accidents caused by drinking.
Someone fell off a maintenance scaffold. Someone pushed a crane lever half an inch the wrong way.
He refused to let those kinds of habits take root under his watch.
But somewhere along the line, he cannot recall when, he seems to have gotten used to the taste of alcohol.
I was just kidding...
For a long while, no one at the table speaks.
The tomato fish soup has just been set on the table, its steam misting the glass.
The only sounds in the room are the clink of metal utensils against ceramic and the drone of the news on the television.
"New reports confirm an unusually violent storm system is expected to reach Port Podesta waters just after midnight."
"Large-scale cloud anomalies have already been observed converging above the port."
"Residents are advised to avoid travel through the night. Coastal operations should secure against high winds and rough seas immediately."
The way that sky looks... we're in for a real storm tomorrow. If it hits, the docks will be locked down.
And that ship still hasn't been towed in...
He mutters to himself.
You've been getting gloomier with every bite. What's going on?
If we can't go out tomorrow, we can't go out. It's not the end of the world.
...No! You promised me last month, Dad!
It's not about that...
Crassus cannot describe what he is feeling. The scene in front of him is as ordinary as it gets, yet something about it feels unnatural.
It is supposed to be a break, but he cannot relax at all.
Something feels missing. He feels like he should be doing something.
His legs will not stay still. He stands and shoves the window open, letting in a gust of fresh air to blow through the knots in his mind.
A fine rain is coming down. Far out, the sea carries a red stain, like a signal or a caution he cannot read.
He looks up. The storm clouds over the signal tower divide the sky into bands of different colors.
Suspended there is a reflection of crimson.
...
He takes a deep breath. The scent of flowers mixes with the humid air and fills his lungs.
It comes from the wildflowers Enid picked from the yard this afternoon, now sitting in a glass vase on the windowsill.
The petals have softened in the rain-damp air, their scent thicker than it was during the day.
He stares at the night sky, unsure if it is real or an illusion. The scent suddenly stirs a memory. He has smelled something like this before.
It was after the Atlantic Calamity. He had been at the docks when it struck. His injuries were minor, but he still spent a few days recovering in the hospital.
His mind was foggy back then, but he could always catch the faint scent of flowers from the bedside table.
He knows they were from Enid.
And Larene...
She was working at the Atlantic Eye back then.
His eyes return to the crimson rift. The broadcast grows clearer.
He knows what is happening.
But right here, in front of him, is everything he once had.
In the years that followed, he lived inside the what-ifs until he could only sleep with the help of alcohol.
He looks up.
The image suspended in the sky looks too much like the day he most wishes he could forget.
That was the day he lost Enid.
He still carried wounds from the Atlantic Calamity back then. With a bad leg that could barely hold him, he searched through the chaos for what felt like forever.
He thought time would have smoothed all this over by now. It has not. Not at all.
Watching this unfold, he realizes he has forgotten nothing. The same heavy weight still presses on his chest.
And this time, he knows exactly what he has to do. He knows it better than anyone.
Larene. There's a storm coming.
That ship's still sitting out in the dock. No one's watching it this late... I should go help tie things down.
...But if you don't want me to go, I'll stay.
He walks back from the window, grabbing his coat off the back of the chair as he passes.
...You've already got your coat in your hands.
Larene pushes herself up from the chair, rising slowly.
It's pouring out there. Can't it wait till morning? Someone else will handle it. You're not the only one at that yard.
...
He does not answer. He just keeps his head down, smoothing the wrinkles from his coat.
I knew it.
You've been like this since the day I met you.
Too much weight on your shoulders. You can't leave things to other people. You have to do it all yourself, and do it right.
That's exactly why I fell for you back then.
So now, when you tell me there's something you need to do... how could I stop you?
Dad? What's wrong? Why's your face all scrunched up like that?
Enid raises her head, a smudge of soup still on her lips, her gaze quiet and steady beyond her years.
Crassus stands there with his coat in his hands, frozen in place for a long, long moment.
Don't worry. I'll take care of myself.
It's just...
He shakes out the coat, then slowly folds it back over his arm.
Larene, I... I miss you a lot.
I really do.
That photo album we had at home... I've gone through it more times than I can count.
Whenever I've got a quiet moment, I can't help it. I just pick it up.
Your old clothes, the ones you left hanging in the closet... they're still there. All these years, and I haven't thrown a single thing out. Don't worry.
The man turns to face his wife. The rigid mask of his expression finally softens a little.
About Enid... I owe you an apology.
Back then... I was still hurting from my own injuries...
When the Punishing Virus came... I couldn't keep her safe.
I failed her... I failed you...
I promised I'd watch her grow up.
But now... seeing her here...
His eyes rest on Enid for a long moment.
I don't know... at night, my mind just goes in circles.
And I started drinking. Every day now... The place is practically full of empty bottles...
I know... it's a bad thing.
...What are you talking about? Have you been running yourself ragged at the yard again?
Larene offers a gentle smile.
Before you go, finish this soup. I made it myself. At least have a few bites before you head out.
You can't work on an empty stomach.
With a smile, Larene cups the bowl of fish soup in both hands and passes it to Crassus.
I'm not going to lecture you about the drinking this time.
But Crassus... you've got to take better care of yourself.
With no one around to keep an eye on you, you just push and push until you've got nothing left. It worries me.
And I want you to know... I've always been here. And... I'll always love you.
That sounds so silly saying it out loud. I was always too embarrassed before.
How come you're going to the docks again? What about tomorrow?
Daddy still has things he needs to do.
But no matter where he goes, he'll be there for you tomorrow.
Alcohol smells gross, Dad! Don't go sneaking drinks! I can always tell!
I...
Alright. Go on, Crassus.
Go do what you need to do.
When you get back tonight, I'll heat up the soup and the rest of the leftovers for you.
Crassus takes the soup from her. It is hot.
The sour tang of tomatoes, the savory depth of fish, and a touch of peppery heat all blend together.
The familiar taste slides down his throat, warm and gentle. It's a flavor no one else could ever make.
For some reason, his throat tightens.
He knows there are countless others like him in Port Podesta.
He witnessed the port when the disaster struck, and he lived through the long, bitter years that came after.
He knows now what he has to do. It is the regrets from his younger days, the things he could never make right.
The drinking... I'll ease up. I promise.
I've gotta go.
Crassus walks to the door and turns the handle.
Only the damp sea breeze remains, carrying a faint metallic hint of blood.
I love you both. I'll see you later.
He stands in the doorway, shoulders tensing briefly before he steps through.
Signal Tower - Corridor
Port Podesta
Raaargh—!!
Gunfire explodes through the narrow corridor, the sound bouncing off the walls. The Corrupted ahead drops instantly.
More of them emerge from around the stairwell corner, joints bent backward, bodies crouched low. They step right over their fallen without pause.
This chase through the dark feels like it will never end.
A Corrupted circles the main console and lunges at you from the flank.
You twist aside on instinct. The cold claw scrapes past your waist and crashes into the edge of the console.
You slip out through the doorway. Only static hisses from the communicator now.
Behind you, the dull scrape of metal claws tearing through the wall echoes through the space. Brick fragments and dust explode into the air, and the entire corridor disappears into a cloud of debris.
Hiss—!!
Iron claws shoot out of the smoke and drag across the concrete, trailing sparks. They slice through fabric and graze skin before burying themselves in the wall beside you.
Several shots punch into the Corrupted's chest. The muzzle flash briefly lights up the control room and the dead announcement screen overhead.
A red glow pulses in the distance, closing in fast. The sound of footsteps scatters through the dark.
At the end of the corridor, a sudden rush of footsteps breaks out.
The sharp whine of a buzzsaw follows right behind.
The saw blade rips through the Corrupted's back. Sparks and machine parts burst outward in a spray of metal debris, carving a long scar across the wall.
The motor screams louder.
From the deep dark, a figure slides down a silken thread and lands lightly atop the wreckage.
Sorry for the delay. But looks like you're still in one piece, [player name].
A mechanical spider clicks out from under her collar and springs back onto her fingertips in a few small hops.
You're hurt. Let me patch you up.
She leans down and lifts her fingers. Several mechanical spiders glide down silken threads from her cuffs and climb silently onto your clothing.
A soft click sounds as one spider's abdomen opens, releasing a thread of pale blue gel that spreads over the wound.
It's cold at first. Then a faint, numbing warmth slowly radiates from the injury.
Hold still. This might sting.
The anomalies "Understanding" created are breaking down.
That broadcast just now... it reached people.
You made it happen.
Your nerves, wound tight for so long, finally loosen for just a moment.
But Port Podesta still hasn't stopped. It's only... slowed down a little.
Ophelia... gave the Sefirah's authority to me.
That's how we were able to crack open a fissure of resistance inside Understanding's illusion.
She presses her lips tight.
But she's not here anymore.
She averts her gaze and tightens her hold on the buzzsaw's handle.
[player name], let's head to the Tidal Hub.
We have to stop this city and put an end to these false illusions.
It's what she asked of us.
Signal Tower
First Floor
Port Podesta
You push through the half-fallen fire door. Chaos greets you on the other side.
Broken steel beams crisscross in tangled heaps. Shattered glass pools across the floor like dark, still water.
In the center of the lobby, Leia braces against a stone pillar. Her light whip lashes out, cinched tight around the throats of four Corrupted.
You guys just don't quit! One at a time, ever heard of that?!
She pushes off the ground with her right foot and spins with the momentum.
CRACK—
Three Corrupted are yanked off their feet by the motion and hurled into the far wall.
She lands, dropping to one knee.
Nearby, the bodies of several Corrupted sail through the air, and two familiar figures come into view.
[player name]! Helentine!
Heads up, more on the stairway landing!
Several Corrupted burst out from your blind spot around the corner.
Helentine raises her buzzsaw and blocks the first wave.
The teeth clash against Corrupted shells, throwing sparks.
She pivots and sweeps the buzzsaw horizontally, cutting the two front runners in half.
But deeper in the corridor, more Corrupted are closing in.
Then, with a screech of metal, the sealed door beside you bursts open from the inside, and a beam of light floods through.
In here! The exit passageway! Our people cleared this path. Get everyone through!
Your group retreats swiftly through the side door. Crassus grabs Leia and pulls her through as the last one, then shoves the door shut and braces it.
Heads down!
BOOM. The explosives roar, deafening.
Girders and shattered pillars and slabs of concrete come down in a thunderous cascade, sealing the doorway and every Corrupted behind it inside a tomb of debris.
That'll keep 'em busy. They'll have to find another way around.
He wipes the rain from his face.
Behind him, one pair of keen, bright eyes after another appears.
Some carry hydraulic cutters. Others have portable welding torches strapped to their backs.
A few hold nothing more than a length of steel pipe.
Their faces still carry the exhaustion of dreams that have just faded.
Yet every one of them is standing here, right in front of you.
Crassus! Outer shutters are all sealed!
Those tin cans aren't getting through anytime soon! We'll hold as long as we can!
Several workers surge out from behind Crassus and spread through the wreckage in front of the signal tower.
Leia... you're okay. Thank goodness.
Wynne slips out from behind as well, a crowbar clutched in her hand.
It's just been a little while, and you're already this beat up? Come on, girl!
Crassus! Wynne! You're both okay!
I'm fine. My head's still pounding a bit, but... I'm fine.
The man flashes a grin and walks up to you.
[player name].
I heard your broadcast.
This is Port Podesta's fight. We're not sitting this one out. That's why we're here.
We've all seen what we needed to see... but none of it was real. Port Podesta doesn't need some pretty dream that destroys everyone in its wake.
He hesitates, and his voice drops.
What Tavis did to this city... we want answers. We want him to answer for it.
But until then... we're not handing Port Podesta over to anyone.
We've lived our whole lives here. The last traces our families left behind are in this city.
We won't let anyone take even that from us. It's all we've got left.
Not much else to say. Everyone who can still move and still wants to fight is here.
You're from Babylonia, a commandant and a Construct. We need your help to save this city and those out there.
Port Podesta's slowed down, but it hasn't stopped... The terrain outside is a mess. We don't know exactly what's going on either.
But we know these streets. Even if we have to blow up a few of them, we'll get you to the Tidal Hub.
But if you do that, then Port Podesta...
If this city crashes into Constellia, there won't be any Port Podesta left anyway.
He smiles briefly, then pulls out a tattered, crumpled map.
Here, the old department store.
Here, some financial center the Helio family put together.
And here, the hotel where you guests stay.
No clue why a bunch of other buildings sprouted up out of nowhere.
But once these three are down... it's a straight line from here to the Tidal Hub perimeter.
After that, we just blow the gates...
...You have explosives?
We've got road crews, demolition guys, and blasters. All local veterans.
The explosives have been sitting in storage for years. We just never had the right reason to pull them out.
A smile touches his lips.
Tonight, we finally found one.
<color=ffffff>Meanwhile
Before the conversation at the signal tower even finishes, several workers have already shouldered the explosive packs and slipped away through a side alley.
This is Crassus' plan. The workers know the terrain, so they go ahead to plant the charges while [player name] follows behind.
Through the veil of rain, shadowed figures sprint down a half-collapsed street, heads low against the rain.
Hiss—!!
A Corrupted lunges from behind a fallen sign.
They duck low, and a crowbar swings out swiftly from behind.
CLANG. The metallic ring echoes through the cold, damp air.
Keep moving! We've gotta clear the path!
Something slashes open the front of his work uniform. Blood beads up and runs down with the rain, but he seems not to feel it.
He swings his cutting gun and buries the blade into the Corrupted's neck. The enemy convulses and drops.
Splashing through the puddles, the workers hauling the explosives push forward with everything they have.
Other workers, armed with whatever tools they could grab, hold off the Corrupted wandering around.
Hey, do you copy? Are you in position?
The mechanical spider's transmission cuts in and out.
Got it! Everyone! Get behind cover!
Three!
Another Corrupted lunges through the rain. Helentine's buzzsaw sweeps in from the side.
The Corrupted is cleaved in half at the waist.
Two!
Leia's light whip snaps out.
One after another, she hooks and hauls Corrupted off their feet, keeping the workers' blind spots clear.
One!
Crash.
Flames shoot into the sky, and debris swirls through the air.
The shockwave rips the fog open. The Corrupted's red lights cut through the dust, even sharper than before.
Crassus stands before the wreckage, blood still flowing from the wound across his chest.
The rest is on us! You just focus on Tavis!
My brothers and sisters!
He turns around.
On the silent battlefield behind him, the workers step forward one by one.
Let's send this damn dream...
...to hell!
