Tidal Hub
Port Podesta
The near-frenzied roar of Port Podesta finally collapses into a long, low moan, like a colossal beast caught by the throat.
Within the hub, the chaotic energy flows subside in gentle, descending waves.
The light strips fade inside the walls, and the alarms no longer scream. Only broken, intermittent chimes remain, flickering wearily through the empty control room.
The moment the young woman begins to fall, you rush behind her on pure instinct.
Hah... cough, cough...
Crimson vital fluid seeps slowly from somewhere on her body, trickling down along the fissures of her damaged frame.
[player name]... Did it work?
Helentine lifts her head. She lets out a relieved breath, then turns her gaze toward the Sefirah.
As you steady Helentine to her feet, the two of you hear Tavis roaring from the other side of the battlefield.
Leia's final blow staggers Tavis backward. He collides with a wall, slides down, and his knees slam hard against the ground.
Cough...!
He looks up and sees [player name], Leia, and Helentine. He can feel it too. Port Podesta is grinding to a halt. He has failed.
Do you have any idea... what you've just done?
He spits out a mouthful of blood and tries to rise, only to slip back down.
The "Understanding" Sefirah... this Veil Rain...
Suddenly, he freezes and glances behind him. Something flickers in the darkness, gone before anyone else can notice.
—?
Yeah... disarmed the old man. He's done.
She pulls back her light whip and tilts her chin toward the Sefirah.
So... we're taking that Sefirah, right?
A faint rustling stirs from deep within the shadows.
It's you...!
...?
In the next instant, something shrieks through the air above you and Helentine.
Crimson tendrils of condensed Punishing Virus lance down from the corners of the ceiling.
Simultaneously, the reinforced concrete wall by the experimental chamber comes apart, shattering into jagged chunks that fly at the three of you.
[player name]!
Helentine instinctively tackles both of you to the ground. Leia's light whip lashes out a moment later, sweeping aside the first wave and buying everyone a brief moment to breathe.
As the smoke slowly clears, Leia's eyes widen sharply.
...Though I encountered some complications along the way.
As the dust settles, the experimental chamber that once held the Sefirah stands utterly empty.
Seems like I still arrived precisely when I intended to.
The attacker hovers on the far side of the room. The half-Sefirah from the experimental chamber now spins slowly in his palm, its deep blue glow spilling across the sharp lines of his gaunt face.
Shocked? I would have thought you'd grown accustomed to the dead refusing to stay dead by now.
It has been a long time... You've come quite far... Leia.
Unfortunately, I have no leisure for nostalgia today.
Arius...
You stare at that gaunt face. The genius from the Erhorn family of the Transatlantic Economic Community, who once rivaled Dominik... The name alone carries decades of history, compressed into legend.
And now he stands before you.
A faint smile crosses his lips, then his gaze drifts to the Sefirah in his hand.
Do not mistake my purpose here. You were never the target.
He steps forward. The wisps of Punishing Virus drifting around him gather into ripples of crimson.
Though I do owe you a debt of gratitude.
You, together with the people of Port Podesta, have helped me thoroughly purge the residual consciousness clinging to the "Understanding" Sefirah.
And now, the half of the "Understanding" Sefirah that slumbered in Podesta has been returned to its rightful owner. It serves me now.
You mean... Ophelia?
You... used the Veil Rain as well...
The gaunt man offers a thin, mocking smile.
Spare me the comparison to your pathetic charade.
He raises his hand. The red Punishing Virus gathers at his metallic fingertips like five crimson droplets blooming into form.
The agent and the Ascension-Network chose me.
What...?
Information such as Ophelia, parasitizing the Understanding Sefirah, is a contaminant. Unless it wills its own erasure, it persists. Like a ghost impossible to expunge.
Which is why you performed so admirably, Helentine. The indispensable element of my design. My carefully selected "protagonist."
...Ophelia's choice is not yours to define.
Mechanical spiders lurking in the shadows spit silver threads, but the red energy coiling around Arius dissolves the attack with ease.
Earning the "Understanding" Sefirah's recognition is noteworthy, I admit. However...
The Ascendant touches the Sefirah, and a low hum resonates as rings of light ripple outward like waves...
It is time for Understanding to choose a new master.
He gently draws the still-glowing Sefirah toward him, and violent surges of energy ripple outward in every direction.
—Stop! Nngh!
Arius merely lifts his hand, and an overwhelming wave of energy slams Leia to the ground.
The bullets shriek through the air.
But in the next instant, they freeze before Arius, suspended in midair like insects trapped in amber.
[player name]. I've heard of you.
He casually brushes the frozen bullets aside and turns his gaze toward you with cold scrutiny...
Allow me to demonstrate... the authority of Understanding itself.
Without warning, he drives the half-Sefirah into his own chest.
Suddenly, the space erupts with boundless color. Shockwaves ripple outward as a deep, resonant hum fills the air.
Bathed in blinding light, he sweeps his hand across the ground. The concrete and rebar beneath him break apart into their smallest molecular structures, then reshape and reform at his command.
Thousands of tons of concrete and rebar dissolve in an instant, then coalesce into a colossal sphere, held aloft by an invisible force.
Rubble and twisted rebar orbit the main body like planetary rings.
I now perceive the architecture of all existence.
He sweeps his arm, and the rubble comes hurtling toward your group.
—!
Helentine steps forward, her buzzsaw roaring as it tears through the rubble. Beside her, Leia rises and lashes out with her light whip, intercepting the incoming barrage.
Heh, let me show you more...
Before he can finish, three distinct attacks cut into the battlefield from different directions.
A beam from composite armaments pierces the massive sphere. A blazing light blade cleaves it apart in a single strike, and the Lotus Wheel intercepts every flying fragment.
Three familiar figures stand before you.
Commandant!
Commandant, you're safe now... We'll take it from here.
Confirmed Ascendant target. Weapons ready. Give us the order, Commandant.
Understood!
The three members of Gray Raven snap into formation and charge at Arius without hesitation.
Gray Raven... I've heard the name for years. A pity. I have no intention of squandering time on you.
Arius evades Lee's opening volley and summons more crimson tendrils of Punishing Virus, coiling them around his body.
This building still houses plenty of worthless souls... Let this farce at Port Podesta end here.
The Sefirah embedded in his chest erupts with even greater brilliance, as if the entire Tidal Hub is about to come crashing down.
We didn't say you could leave.
A searing light tears through the radiant glow. Lucia's Pyro Katana cuts down every obstacle in her path as she closes in on Arius.
With a reversal of her grip, she drives the blade straight through his chest.
...!
Crimson vital fluid sprays into the air as Arius' body plummets downward.
...Meddlesome!
In the next instant, countless crimson tendrils surge outward, laced with the Sefirah's radiance, flooding toward the wound and swallowing his body whole.
—!
His body dissolves into glowing crimson particles, slipping free from the Pyro Katana and seeping into the cracks of the crumbling building.
In the blink of an eye, amid the violent tremors, Arius vanishes without a trace, taking the Sefirah with him.
Should we go after him, Commandant?
I'm picking up over ten unconscious humans deeper inside... Diplomatic Court personnel.
Understood.
Tavis remains slumped against the wall, fine steel dust drifting down from above as he stares blankly at everything unfolding before him.
Well... now you walk away empty-handed, too.
Leia coils her light whip into a loop, walks over, and casts a glance down at him.
Hey, old man, look on the bright side. We've still got you, don't we?
He stays motionless, kneeling on the ground in a stupor.
From the beginning... even I was nothing more than... someone else's instrument, used until the very end.
Why do you villain types always save the big speech for the finale? Up now! This place is coming down!
Go on. Take your laughable victory and go. I'll stay here. I'll go down with everything this city was. You could never understand me... understand Port Podesta... understand the TEC!
...
Tavis rambles on without pause. Helentine moves in front of him and looks toward you at her side.
You have no right to judge me. You don't—
The mechanical spider shoots out a specialized web in an instant, sealing the man's mouth before binding his limbs tight.
She then glances at you beside her and at Leia, who stares back in stunned disbelief.
Okay...
She exhales slowly, shakes out her hand, and says nothing.
Wow...
I'll carry him. Let's move.
Lithos and John Doe stand on a half-collapsed observation deck, gazing out at the city in the distance as it struggles against the Punishing Virus.
...Arius slipped away.
...
Mercy is not a look you wear often, Lithos.
Lithos sighs, the sound as soft as the whisper of a turning page.
Tavis... That man is far too fixated on death.
Does this outcome disappoint you?
Disappoint...? No. Let's call it an instructive experiment.
Humans are such contradictory creatures. They mourn death, yet they tremble at the thought of rising above it.
Even with the path laid clear before them, they hesitate, waver, or even refuse it outright.
All that pride Tavis has clung to... I regret it for him.
Yes, regret... That's also part of the "assignment" Mister left me.
Lithos lifts his eyes toward the phantoms of the past crumbling before him, then shifts his gaze to the collapsing Tidal Hub.
And what about you? Arius made off with the Sefirah. The Veil Rain is in ruins. No sense of loss?
None. My hypotheses have been validated in more ways than one. We are one step closer to the truth, Yan Zhen.
You've promised me the "truth" many times, Lithos.
Patience... You've already witnessed a piece of it, haven't you? And besides...
...Margaret hasn't truly died. Her state is no different from Arius' after his own death.
He pauses briefly and glances at the dark green figure beside him.
If the information inside the Punishing Virus can truly be extracted in reverse...
He looks away and picks up his gentle humming again.
Time to go, Yan Zhen.
Outside the Tidal Hub
Outside the Tidal Hub
Crassus sits on the ground, gasping for air.
The crowbar beside him is bent beyond recognition. He tosses it aside, and it clangs dully against the ground.
Boss... is it over?
Vick hobbles over, his leg clearly hurt, and drops down next to him.
I think so... Port Podesta stopped moving.
He lifts his head and takes in the city around them. The outlines of buildings from decades past, draped across the city like a mask, slowly begin to fade as though the color is draining away.
The old lights glowing behind the glass facades of the high-rises go out one by one. The streets, washed clean by rain within the illusion, now reclaim the potholes and tire tracks carved into them over decades of exposure.
...Yeah.
Crassus braces his hands on his knees and rises, his legs still trembling. He uses the crowbar as a makeshift crutch, straightens up, and gazes toward a street deep within the port district.
There's still time... I can see it one last time.
He doesn't finish. Leaning on the crowbar, he walks toward that familiar place, each step feeling like a journey into the past. The road he has walked for half his life now stretches endlessly before him.
The brief, illusory dream of the Golden Age is drawing to a hasty close.
The departed, granted a fleeting return, are scattered across every corner of Port Podesta, saying their final goodbyes to those they still hold dear in this world.
A young woman collapses by the roadside, clutching her mother as the old woman's form slowly dissolves into particles of light. Her screams tear through the air, raw and desperate.
She grips that dissolving hand with all her strength, as if holding on tightly enough might keep the fading warmth inside a body that no longer belongs to this world.
...
He walks past the woman without stopping. Across the street, at an apartment entrance...
An old man stands frozen in the doorway of his own home, now so unfamiliar. The door hangs open. Inside the room that should be empty, his children from years past smile back at him.
In his hands, he holds the canned goods he was meant to collect from the relief station decades ago. The bag tears open, and the cans clatter and roll across the ground.
Behind the old man, a young boy chases a wisp of rising yellow light, running far down the street and around the corner. His laughter drowns out the old man's choked sobs.
...
Crassus doesn't linger. He quickens his pace, weaving through the crowd.
Cross this street, turn past the tram station whose glow is slowly fading, and there it is. Home.
...Made it.
The marks of the Golden Age have yet to fade. The plate on the door remains just as it was decades ago.
Emerald vines climb the walls. The window frames look brand new, without a trace of rust. Through the glass, he can see the blue and white curtains Larene hung before.
Once more, he stands before the door from decades past. Inside, he can hear Larene and Enid.
(Larene... Enid...)
He raises his hand, knuckles hovering just before the door. One knock, and Larene will hear him. One knock, and the door to that bygone life will swing open for him once more.
Even if only for a moment.
Mom, will Dad come back?
Dad has things he needs to take care of. He'll be back tomorrow before you know it.
Tomorrow...
Through the shimmering mirage, Larene looks up at him and returns a gentle smile.
...
Crassus' hand freezes. He doesn't knock on that door to the past.
Instead, he turns around and breaks into a run.
Huff... hah... huff... hah...
The crowbar is gone, lost somewhere along the way. His legs still tremble, and his lungs burn as though filled with molten iron. He runs back the way he came.
By the roadside, the young woman releases her grip at last. The final trace of light escapes her fingers. She sinks onto the bare ground, folding into a tight ball, and wails.
He runs past the open apartment door. The old man has gone. Inside, his children pick up the long-expired cans from the street corner and bring them home.
He catches up to the boy chasing fireflies. The light has vanished. The boy stands still, staring up at a sky that holds no more light.
He runs on. His mouth is parched, and his legs are failing him. A coppery tang fills his throat. He doesn't stop.
At last, he reaches the cemetery. No gate, no walls. Not a soul in sight.
One large and one small.
Two gravestones stand side by side. The larger one bears Larene's name. The smaller, Enid's.
That's where Crassus stops.
He stands before the two gravestones, motionless for a long moment until the chill sea breeze seeps into his collar.
He pulls the bottle from his coat, unscrews the cap, and raises it to his lips. The smell of alcohol drifts up with the sea air...
Huff... puff...
He pants heavily. His lungs feel stuffed with damp cotton. The sea breeze cuts through his collar, sharp and cold.
He pulls out the half-empty bottle from his coat, twists off the cap, and takes a swig.
Cough... cough cough... cough!
The alcohol sears down his throat like a blade scraping against raw flesh.
A cough erupts from him, then another, until he is seized by a fit so violent it folds him at the waist. The bottle tumbles from his fingers and spills its remains across the dirt. He coughs on, breathless and shaking...
...You don't drink, Crassus.
Larene's voice cuts through his mind.
Alcohol smells gross, Dad! Don't go sneaking drinks! I can always tell!
Then comes Enid's.
The sea wind howls, swallowing his choked sobs in yet another fit of coughing.
Then his tears fall before the two gravestones.
Below the Central Signal Tower
Below the Central Signal Tower
Wynne stands atop a half-collapsed residential building, watching Port Podesta slowly settle into silence.
The rain has stopped. With the veil of rain gone, the Golden Age phantoms fade away as well.
Behind her, the central signal tower, once the landmark of Port Podesta, is once again consumed by rust.
Helentine... you really did it.
Through the lens, she catches sight of [player name], Helentine, Leia, and the others as they step out from the Tidal Hub's shadow.
Click.
She presses the shutter.
This is the beginning of something new for this city...
She lowers her camera and studies the image captured within. It is only then that she notices her own body growing fainter, dissolving slowly like colors bleeding from old film.
Leia, Helentine, [player name]... guess I'm not getting that goodbye after all.
Click. Click. Click.
She fires off shot after shot, trying to capture everything around her.
As death's embrace draws near once more, she feels neither fear nor sadness. In this moment, only one thought occupies her mind: whether these photographs might serve as proof that she lived.
Proof that a reporter named Wynne was born in this city, died here, and returned, briefly yet brilliantly, under the hopeful gazes of others.
She turns to the signal tower beside her, the landmark she once knew by heart.
Still need one more... group shot.
She raises her camera again.
This time, she turns around.
Behind her stand Ophelia, Larene, Enid, Vick's elderly mother... countless figures just like her, young and old, from every era.
They returned briefly to this land they once loved, and now their forms are fading little by little, dissolving into particles of light...
Guys... if we're saying goodbye, let's make sure we're smiling!
Let the world know the dead have just as much right to face death with courage as anyone!
Click.
This is the last photo.
As the shutter clicks back into place, the camera slips from her hands, now turning into light, and hits the ground.
And she, along with everyone behind her, fades into Port Podesta's dimming sky as if they had never existed at all.
Only the smiling faces captured in the viewfinder remain, still vivid and alive.
Conference Room
Babylonia
Babylonia
Conference Room
Asimov stands before a wall-sized projection screen, watching the latest residual data from Port Podesta scroll across its surface.
The real challenge with Tavis' research... it came down to fidelity. Replicating a complete human consciousness with enough accuracy, while preserving the uniqueness that anchors the cognitive foundation.
Hassen sits in silence at the far end of the long table, his fingers laced together.
He was already chasing this decades ago...
The fundamental bottleneck in his M.I.N.D. replication technique was always data volume. At a physical level, there simply isn't enough data in the world to replicate a consciousness with any meaningful precision.
He taps the screen, and a waveform expands across the display.
So he went to an agent.
It would seem so. And based on Gray Raven's field report, Arius and Dominik left behind a reverse-compilation framework after their collaboration...
And Tavis used the half of the "Understanding" Sefirah housed in Port Podesta as the translation tool.
Such a waste...
Hassen pinches the bridge of his nose, then falls silent for a moment.
I see. Thank you, Asimov.
Hassen nods, signaling the end of the report. Asimov dismisses the holographic screen, rises from his seat, and leaves.
I take it you're finished?
The door is left open. Liszt seems to have been waiting at the doorway for some time.
Are you ready to hear the Diplomatic Court's proposal for Port Podesta?
Go ahead, Councilor Liszt.
We've consulted with the military. The path forward is this: Babylonia will assist the local citizenry in establishing a self-governing body to administer the city.
Some resistance from the locals is to be expected, of course. But with the Ascendant threat before us, all such concerns defer to military necessity.
And the case against Tavis, Port Podesta's administrative chief, is airtight. Clear evidence of collusion with an agent, and Gray Raven has already taken him into custody.
Reconstruction and regional governance cannot proceed without Babylonia's support and resources...
It took us a detour, but the destination remains the same.
Anything else?
We've reached an agreement with the military. Port Podesta is to serve as a temporary strategic stronghold. As for the particulars of Tavis' research, we will continue to gather intelligence and submit our findings to the Science Council for evaluation.
The Transatlantic Economic Community's historical technical assets carry implications across multiple domains. After thorough deliberation, we believe this arrangement serves all parties.
I see. Approved.
After Hassen met with representatives from each department in succession, the artificial sky deepens into night, and the President's office finally falls quiet.
Hassen sets aside the documents he just signed. His gaze drifts to an old, fading photograph on the wall... A group photo of World Government officials from the Trillard era.
The people in the photograph wear uniforms of a bygone era, standing on an Earth not so far away.
The military's direct line cuts in.
...Gray Raven's latest intel confirms it. Half of the Sefirah codenamed Understanding is now in an Ascendant's hands.
Target identified as Arius Erhorn. Patriarch of the Erhorn family, Golden Age Transatlantic Economic Community.
Official records had him listed as dead at the Atlantic Calamity site. How he became an Ascendant is still unknown.
Which agent is he tied to?
Based on the Science Council's intelligence database, signs point to Aisling.
Hassen falls silent for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the photograph before him.
The archive access you requested. Is that connected to all this?
A soft sigh comes through from the commander on the other end.
Hassen, during the Post-Pandemic Age, the World Government made a concerted effort to have Dominik's research either sealed away or destroyed.
...Remember what I told you? Trillard left behind files and recordings to guide the Presidents who came after him. But too much of the crucial content has been lost.
Intelligence managed to restore some of those files. Long story short, the Atlantic Calamity was man-made. Arius tried to forcibly harness the "Understanding" Sefirah, and that's what set it off.
During the disaster, the "Understanding" Sefirah that had already taken on a vessel was shattered in two. Dominik recovered one half and sealed the other half permanently deep inside the Atlantic Eye.
To keep the Atlantic Eye from turning into a global catastrophe, Dominik activated an emergency system called Ananke. No one knows how it works. What we do know is the entire dam was frozen at the exact moment of detonation.
It defies common sense, but Absolute Zero was also one of Dominik's fields of study.
Then how did the half Dominik recovered end up in Port Podesta?
From what we can tell, Dominik never told anyone where the "Understanding" Sefirah was stored. That secret died with him when he disappeared in the later reactor incident.
...Dominik chose not to turn it over to Babylonia. There must have been a reason.
Maybe. But what we need to focus on now is the next move of Aisling's group.
Everything points to the same place. Their target is the Atlantic Eye, where the other half of the "Understanding" Sefirah is.
What's the military's countermove?
The Atlantic Calamity left behind severe weather anomalies. Air deployment anywhere near the Atlantic Eye is off the table. A naval interdiction is our only option.
We've raised the Atlantic region to maximum alert. Significant forces are already searching for Arius.
Half a Sefirah nearly brought Port Podesta to its knees. We cannot let the Ascendant anywhere near the other half inside the Atlantic Eye.
The military will begin preparations for a naval interception. The Omega Weapons have been delivered to Port Podesta. Under Gray Raven's supervision, we'll assemble an ocean fleet on site...
Understood. But if they're openly after the Sefirah, we need maximum protection on all Sefirah frames as well.
...I'll contact the front and have Liv return to Babylonia for the time being.
And the data from the close-range exposure to the "Understanding" Sefirah will also be critical.
Hassen offers no response, his silence stretching on.
...Things are changing. A lot of old friends are waiting in the shadows, watching what choice we make here, Hassen. I need to know where you stand. Do you still hold to your original position on the Phylotree?
Hassen sinks into thought, his gaze fixed on Port Podesta flickering across the holographic display.
I believe Asimov and [player name] can deliver results that surpass "Dominik's". I always have. That hasn't changed.
The view pushes deeper, zooming past the coordinates until the post-disaster port fills the screen. Amid the ruins...
A few lights flicker back to life.
