Story Reader / Arcade Anima / Candle Light Torment / Story
...Tsk! Noan! Hurry over and help!!
Your "replica" has stirred up some real trouble busting in here!
...
After cutting off the communication, the young man gazes at the human commandant seated by the bed, falling silent for a moment.
It has been about five or six hours since you willingly participated in this "peaceful abduction."
This Transcendant, who bears a striking resemblance to Noan, consistently shows their differences through his distant and cold demeanor.
He appears to be highly intrigued by the multitude of information you share, yet no matter how you attempt to persuade him, he remains skeptical.
"This Noan" firmly believes that Babylonia is the malevolent force that has erased his "replica's" memories and "confined" him in the Clean Zone.
—Upon hearing your astonished response, he proceeds to display several videos on his terminal, showcasing Dark Aries being monitored or encircled.
Is this fabricated by Lithos?
No answer, huh...? I was expecting you to come up with a lie and blame it on Lithos.
Correct.
Moreover... if Babylonia were truly as united as you claim, surveillance footage like this wouldn't have found its way to me through Lithos.
Ultimately, your attempt to persuade "this Noan" has ended in failure.
Besides, a lot of information has been provided to "this Noan."
He still shares the same nature with Noan. While he may not trust you, he also harbors reservations about placing complete trust in Lithos.
The more suspicion planted in his mind, the greater the chance he has to recover his memories.
However... before he leaves the cell, the clockwork firefly that Noan gave you suddenly falls out of your pocket.
Upon seeing it, "Noan" immediately turns around and walks over, canceling his plan to leave.
I'll ask again, how exactly did you get this?
A little lucky charm. To me, it's as important as my name tag. You see the scratch here? It once saved my life.
...
He caresses the bullet mark on the clockwork firefly, lost in thought.
Lithos always tells him that he is the real Noan.
The one in Babylonia is but a puppet with his memories erased.
But how is it possible for such a puppet to have the last memory of that snowy day?
...
Given his understanding of "himself," he would never have given out the firefly as a lucky charm unless he had a lot of trust in the commandant standing before him.
—After all, to most people, it's just a tattered toy. If he were to give a token, it should have been something more appropriate.
Seizing the opportunity during "Noan's" moment of contemplation, you discreetly slide your hand into your coat, poised to transmit your current coordinates.
Just as you instinctively reach for the distress interface from memory, his gaze abruptly shifts toward you.
What are you doing?
Before you have a chance to respond, he snatches the terminal from your grasp.
The secret channel is still active... Was the communication paused before?
He takes hold of the terminal and proceeds to forcibly "borrow" your face, using it to pass the facial verification.
Accessing the operation interface of the secret channel, he activates the speaker, instantly transmitting the sound of two people running.
—On the other end of the secret channel.
Noan, in pursuit of Bethe, leaps into the underground waterway, and then ascends the winding narrow path to reach the ladder leading to the surface.
Drawing upon his honed sense of direction from his time with the Cargo Crew, he realizes that he has circled back to the upper floor of the entrance passage.
The scent of blood and the stench of decaying corpses grows stronger here. Distinct from the entrance, it is further infused with the odor of vital fluid.
How many bodies, yearned for by someone, are sealed within these walls, and how many forgotten souls linger amidst their sorrowful cries?
...!
His body has already surpassed its limits in trying to resist those disruptive devices.
And the old man, well into his late years, curls up like a pill bug, rolling toward the exit with the assistance of an exoskeleton at an astonishing speed.
The hastily constructed low tunnel fails to withstand the relentless pursuit, emitting a perilous, rusty sound.
—This place is on the verge of collapse. The already unstable floor is trembling beneath his sprinting steps.
Just a few more steps, and those who are chasing behind may plummet into the lower level as the collapse ensues.
—Bethe!!
The young man's voice cuts through the shaking tunnel, stirring echoes that resonate with the lingering resentment of countless departed souls.
The shadowy figure looks back, sneering at the young man, and extends his hand toward the identity verification panel of the last door, just a few meters away.
Bye-bye.
—!!
—At this point, he can no longer make it.
I have to take a gamble here...
Noan comes to a halt, raising the Rev Blade in his hand in response to the old man's mocking smile.
...Those who lost your lives here...
The moment the verification is completed, lightning converges on the blade, and with the resounding roar of the engine, it strikes the fragile walls all around.
Please lend me a hand!!
—All things and all spirits come crashing down.
