39-23 Amid the Dawn
Shortly after the news of Rosetta's victory over the Frostheart Emperor echoed across the battlefield, the palace exploded.
In the blast's aftermath, the Frostheart Emperor's forces fell into disarray, as though their strings had been severed. As the last of the red aurora bled from the sky, the two remaining Warlords and the Ascendant Duryodhana vanished without a trace.
With their commanders gone and their armies in chaos, the war... finally seems to be over.
I've heard... the Frostheart Emperor triggered that explosion himself.
On the second day after everything has settled, post-war cleanup is in full swing. Just as you are about to head out on schedule, you find Rosetta waiting outside your door. Together, you arrive here, in this silent, snow-covered expanse.
Yeah. Just as he said he would, he ended this war.
...He's dead.
After speaking, Rosetta falls silent for a moment, as if paying her respects. When she finally looks up again, the melancholy has lifted from her eyes.
Commandant, I think Zack was right about some things... but letting the Arctic Route Union become that kind of memetic was far too extreme, no matter how I look at it.
I did say that. Seeing beautiful scenery now doesn't change what this land fundamentally is.
Even if Zack had won and the Union started conquering the world... how many resources does this place really have for a prolonged war?
How far could this so-called power of Amalgamation really carry the Arctic? My answer is... pessimistic.
That's why I must stop it, no matter the cost. But if another world hegemon emerged... I wouldn't necessarily oppose it.
...You've got me there.
But... yes. I believe it would be acceptable if someone else were to take on that role.
As long as they don't follow Zack's example, using force to coerce, distorting people's will.
It might sound radical, but I think it's what most people feel. Everyone has their limits; people focus on their own lives first. As for grand ideas of "amalgamation"...
Like Zack said, such things could be entrusted to memetics passed down through time, as long as we can ensure those entities have no ill intentions. To me, that would be acceptable.
And personally... if such an entity did exist, one powerful enough to encompass even the Arctic Route Union and improve lives here... I wouldn't consider that a bad thing.
It wouldn't matter if it vanished. Not after all I've said...
Everyone's been bound by that name for too long. Snow is beautiful, but when it threatens your roof, you clear it away.
I'm not denying what our predecessors did. All the love given to me remains in my M.I.N.D. But what the world becomes after this...
It shouldn't be decided by the wishes of those who came before us... but by the path we forge ourselves, here and now.
My biggest wish... is perhaps just to live well. So that if I ever meet those who loved me, I can stand tall and tell them—
I'm doing well now.
With those words, she releases a heavy breath, the long-tightened knot in her heart at last coming undone.
By the way, Commandant, our scouts found something you should see. You're investigating the Ascendants, right?
Possibly. In the old Sophiasburgh, we found several newly built installations that resemble base stations. All show a high concentration of the Punishing Virus residue.
They're scattered, though. Vehicles can't access the areas, and walking would take too long. So, Commandant, from here... you'll have to ride on my back.
If you're worried about comfort, I had a saddle specially made. The craftsman guaranteed it would help you "recapture the joy of childhood."
You have no idea what "recapturing the joy of childhood" entails here, but Rosetta's earnest expression makes one thing perfectly clear: there's no way out of this ride.
There you are, [player name]! Finally found you!
Thank goodness. I was worried you got lured off by strangers again, Commandant.
Indeed. When we found you weren't at the base, we were concerned something had happened.
Why do I feel like you two are hinting at something else?
Hmm... Chief, there's a report here that requires your attention.
It is Dr. Bear, Lee, Noan, Palma, and Simon—the latter looking distinctly unwell, his face pale. They have just spoken as they round the corner, appearing one after another like a procession.
At their sudden appearance, Rosetta's face briefly flickers with disappointment. Whether her reaction comes from having her plans disrupted or something else is unclear. In the end, she only offers a resigned smile and recites her classic line.
It really isn't my lucky day.
...So after this war, you believe without Gestalt, humanity requires a new form of power to combat the Punishing Virus. Something like... Malkuth?
Malkuth may not be complete yet, but its power has already shown us it's possible.
Our research into the M.I.N.D. remains in its preliminary stages. Reactivating the Phylotree of Ousia currently presents the most viable option. The combat performance of Limpidity has already demonstrated its potential to shift the tide of battle.
The resources to activate it again are the least of our worries. If something goes wrong...
Other "people" have already set their sights on them.
...
The assault on Babylonia followed the development of Liv's Limpidity frame. For Zack the Frostheart Emperor and the Ascendant who claims herself as Duryodhana to appear together in the Arctic region... everything is far too coordinated to be chance.
...But this project has been shelved for quite some time now. After all these years... as you know, nearly all related research materials were permanently destroyed during the Post-Pandemic Age, for "those reasons"...
What if I could provide you with original documentation from the Golden Age?
The door opens, revealing a woman clad in silver-purple. Her metal epaulettes gleam with a cold light. With measured steps, her black heels click a steady rhythm against the floor, and a faint, knowing smile touches her lips.
I believe you're—
Nirvatia, Security Director of the Science Council.
Nirvatia cuts into the conversation with a respectful nod toward the communication screen.
The Carthaki radiation zone, once the cradle of humanity's M.I.N.D. research, is now buried under deadly Red Mist along with countless invaluable documents, all due to the Great Akdilek Explosion.
According to recent military intelligence, an Ascendant has been attempting to reach that mist-veiled city... To speak plainly, President Hassen, we are not the only ones with an interest in the Phylotree of Ousia.
Time, I fear, is running short.
In the shadows of the abandoned research facility, metal fragments glint coldly on the dust-covered floor. Nearby, broken experimental pipelines coil in the corners like frozen serpents.
Shall I call you "Duryodhana" now, Doctor?
Didn't you also rebrand yourself, "John Doe"? And this little hideout of yours, quite the labyrinth. I wandered outside for an eternity before finding my way in.
The heavy, rusted iron door groans open, revealing Duryodhana on the other side. Her body is marked by obvious wounds, yet she bears them with an air of utter indifference.
So, what did you uncover on your Arctic excursion? You mentioned catching the scent of a Sefirah before you left.
I misjudged. Only the faintest trace, nothing substantive. Even the best of us err occasionally, don't we?
...Let's avoid quarrels that might breed discord, Duryodhana.
How tedious. So, what occupies you now?
Duryodhana's gaze locks onto the control panel in front of John Doe, immediately catching on a piece of translucent golden amber.
Encased within is a sleeping young girl, her eyelashes dusted with frost. From her chest, transparent tendrils emerge, coiling like thin snakes against the amber's inner walls and still writhing slowly.
Oh? This... it carries that same scent...
I can manage here. You're injured. Return to that one first. And while you're there, report on F.O.S.'s status.
Poaching another's prey is rather poor form, indeed. Best of luck. If you end up dead in this place... I'll come collect what remains.
The two share no real connection; they are merely temporary allies pursuing the same goal. After Duryodhana departs, she doesn't even bother to close the door. Cold wind sweeps in, scattering dust across the floor.
John Doe ignores the open door, his fingers tapping a brief command on the control panel.
Immediately, the amber begins to glow. Pale golden tendrils unfurl from its base, creeping silently across the floor and coiling around nearby equipment.
A moment later, the girl inside stirs. Her eyelids flutter, then open.
What time... is it now?
Step outside and see for yourself.
A wind gusts through the doorway, stirring dust from the floor and rustling the silently encroaching tendrils. The air thickens with an indefinable malice, as if something else is awakening alongside those tendrils, slowly regaining consciousness.
