HE-7 Joined by Love

There you are, Father.

It's your turn to clean the chapel today, Jori?

Gratias.

Just doing my job. I had trouble sleeping anyway.

I'll fetch the sacramental bread.

No, no need.

Oh, right, look at me, dust all over my hands.

Say, do you smell something...? It's pretty faint...

A strange smell?

No, a pleasant one. It's fresh. I sense in it... vitality.

It's hard to put into words. It's like standard downwind. I don't know where it comes from, but I feel like I'd get somewhere if I followed it.

......

I think it's the smell of flowers, Jori.

We don't have enough flour, so flower powder was added to the sacramental bread.

The few remaining bottles of wine in the cellar have started to go sour, so I also added some flower powder to those too.

Clément harvested some flowers a couple of years ago, grinding them into powder and storing it in the cellar...

He loves the flowers, just as he loves us.

Mm...

This will be the final communion we take before the abbey departs. We are short on food, however, so we must reduce each share of sacramental bread, even mixing in... other grains.

Please don't say that. I'm very much looking forward to today's communion...

Then go and wash your face. Come back with the others when it's time for Matins.

I'll do the rest myself.

Yes, Father.

Will we be saved after today, Father?

All of us, Sankta and Sarkaz... will we all be saved?

Even though Gerald is already...

......

Go, Jori.

O-Okay, see you later, Father.

......

Yes. We will all be saved.

......

Humans struggle, punish and forgive themselves, like a sonata at its climax, the keys dancing a frantic tune.

When a decision is made, the long and steady coda begins, the emptiness at the end of catharsis, yet infinitely determined.

Emotions are complex, but the changes are always alike. The melody is conventional, regular, devoid of surprise.

I sense your serenity. You have made your choice.

In any case, the song I should play is you. Hear the voice of your own heart, here at the very end.

You lost, vibrant soul.

All the pots and chopping boards... signs of baking, but no smell of yeast in the air... oh, I guess it's unleavened bread.

This looks like they were preparing the Eucharist here.

There is unidentified debris... it feels wet. Is it because we're underground?

No.

There is flour left in the corner... why is it so damp and sticky?

This smell...

......

Is this the only path the pious abbot saw, at the end of it all?

Can't get in touch with Federico... tell Oren? That will only make things more complicated.

Am I the one who's going to have to do this? I barely know where Iberia even is.

This is such a headache.

My forces will soon surround the monastery...

I will command them to block every path in and out. You stay here and coordinate with the assault.

Mm...

What is it?

Are you sure you want to do this, Oren?

Did you go over to Lemuen's side the moment you saw her? I don't think I need to waste my time explaining this again.

But I'll stop you, Oren.

Lemuen?

Ugh. She caught up.

Buy time while I rendezvous with the troops.

No way. Do you see the expression on her face?

I'm not getting on her bad side. I still remember when she dragged me out of school and confiscated my drone. I never saw it again.

Gratias, Serpilia.

......

You never thought to convince the abbot to bring the monastery back to Laterano.

That's your job.

You never intended to let any of the Sarkaz leave, you've even got commandos deployed to carry out your plan.

Fifty men... the limit of what I can muster.

What are the Lateran laws to you, Oren?

I will submit myself to His Holiness's judgment when we get back... though I don't think I've done anything that should be punished.

You know the consequences of an assault on the abbey.

The people here, both Sankta and Sarkaz, are like travelers who lost their way in the wilderness, who found warmth by a campfire.

The campfire guides their kin to rescue them, and other poor wandering souls.

They have no one to count on. They are weak and frightened. But they still hold on to their precious kindness.

That's why Gerald gave his life to plead with us, and ordered the Sarkaz under his leadership to keep the peace between the two sides.

But what if the campfire has attracted some beasts?

......

I wish I could say pretty words and do the kind of work everyone admires, Cardinal Aide Lemuen.

But I can't. You've never traveled the war-torn wastes with thousands upon thousands of refugees, seen the dark cloud that blankets the skies over Londinium.

But I thought you would at least have a tacit understanding with me, give some thought to the danger in letting those Sarkaz go.

The atrocities the Sarkaz committed in Victoria are well-known. They continue to spread their terror across the lands.

If you truly believe in His Holiness's plan, believe in the value of the Legati, then you should understand why Laterano can't be merciful here.

The friendship that Laterano built at the Summit of Nations is more fragile than the paper windows of this corridor.

The Sarkaz in the abbey are resentful, and affected by Arturia's Arts. There's no telling what lengths they will go to in order to get revenge after they leave.

Plus, what would happen if word got out that a Lateran nomadic abbey has been colluding with the Sarkaz for decades?

How will Laterano uphold its sanctity among the nations of Terra? How will she maintain her already-fragile diplomatic ties?

What will the Holy City look like when the fires of war burn?

Fifty men. That's all will take to resolve the situation here, and bury it all in darkness.

......

These Sarkaz are hunters, farmers... the only mercenary is dead. We saw proof with our own eyes.

You're planning a massacre.

You talk about upholding Laterano's sanctity, when you're the one defiling it. Don't you see the hypocrisy in that?

You're the hypocrite here, Lemuen.

The 'Lemuen the Silent' I know wouldn't have blinked at something like this.

Did five years asleep change you?

Or was it the so-called 'Martyr'—

Gah—

Go on.

......

...Lemuen the Silent.

I told you not to get on her bad side.

Team Two at target location. Charges set.

All three exits on the blueprints of Sanctilaminium Ambrosii are under control.

If anyone tries to get out, the explosion will collapse the passage and force them back...

More like bury them under the rubble. Team Two was laughing about not being too precise here.

......

Go ahead.

Teams Three and Four have taken the high ground. We have sniper cover in all directions.

All teams in position.

Right on time.

Reverend Oren, we are in position to begin the assault on the Sarkaz in the abbey.

Repeat: We are in position.

......

What is it?

No response.

...That's not good.

Ha, don't worry about it. He probably has his hands full with an extra-large crepe.

Does that happen a lot?

All the time. First time on a special operation? Chill. The Lateran watches over you.

Just make sure you're ready. We'll go in the front door if we can't reach Oren, or if there's any unusual activity.

No one in the hallway. Quick, this way.

That way leads out the abbey. Aren't we looking for Gerald?

No, I need to get you to safety first.

Didn't you hear? The Laterans are taking the abbey by force. That woman, Serpilia, might have played nice, but the army won't.

You can't be seen by the Lateran army. You're fallen. To them, you're evi...

Go ahead, Raimund. I can handle it.

Don't... don't let me interrupt you, I did Fina.

All I meant to say is that you've never changed, not to me, Fortuna.

......

Anyway, you're in the same boat we are. It's only going to mean more trouble for the others if you stay behind.

...Alright.

I'll do as you say.

But what about you, Raimund? Will you be alright?

Don't worry, Gerald made plans for everything. I'm sure he anticipated something like this.

I'll come back and help him once I've found a safe place for you.

......

Your palms are sweating, Raimund. What's going on?

Nothing, just... a feeling I can't describe, like a heavy weight...

Maybe it's just that I didn't eat breakfast.

If not for all this, we would be having communion right now, with Gerald and everyone else...

We'll have plenty of chances.

Take a deep breath, Raimund. I'll be the one pulling you along now.

This way. The rooms here are all empty. No one will see us.

I'm fine. We're almost to the front door.

The Laterans might hear us opening the door. We go right as soon as we're outside. The rocks and tall grass should provide cover.

Are you ready? I pulled the latch.

......

Th-This is...

So that's why I had a feeling. Lateran troops.

Stay behind me, Fortuna.

...Team One here. Sarkaz sighted at the front door.

Good morning, Your Excellency.

Good morning again, Jori. Please, see to the others.

Yes, Father.

Father Abbot, we...

Much has happened of late, Sural. I understand your unease.

Should we have come? Would those people from Laterano...

It'll be alright.

All who dwell in the Sanctilaminium Ambrosii are welcome in this chapel. That's how things have been for the last ten years.

Sit up front, Sural. Just like always. No need to worry.

Laterans do not interrupt a communion in progress.

Please, take your seats.

Join me in a moment of prayer. Wait, listen, and feel the peace and tranquility.

I am Stefano Torregrossa, abbot of the Sanctilaminium Ambrosii.

The words 'believer' and 'kin' are not used here.

The mundane world has certain conceptions of the Sankta and the Sarkaz. Order and chaos. Peace and war. Angels and devils. We share the same conceptions.

Our halos and horns are our most distinctive features, symbols etched in the very essence of our life. Our existence alone draws the attention of others.

Yet we have seen the sun rise and set thousands of times together, and we gather here today to partake in communion, to share shelter and blessing.

We have spent varying lengths of time here at the abbey, but even the newcomers amongst us have been here for more than a decade.

For a much longer time, we had no way of knowing whether we had been abandoned or forgotten. We did not know what perils the path ahead would hold, that we would meet at a fork of which no one could know.

We had conflicts. We had secrets. But we tried to accept one another.

We know the names and habits of everyone in this chapel. We shared food and sheltered one another from wind and rain.

We fought beasts and bandits together. We built houses and paved roads together. We plowed fields and harvested them together.

We were brothers and sisters. We loved each other, and treasured one another's peace and happiness as our own.

The bonds that tie us went beyond any physical trait or telepathic connection, transcended any differences in faith or ideology.

Yet, after having endured the long night, it was the fleeting cold before the dawn that overcame us.

The nuncios from Laterano, the Executors, and... emissaries from a distant realm... they all had their own plans, brought new hope, and forced painful choices.

We lost our battered pillars to fire, and our respected and trusted brothers to conflict...

Stefano Torregrossa sought that which was most good, even if the answer was an unproven one. For this, I seek your forgiveness.

Sanctilaminium Ambrosii is not Paradise. But it is our common home.

I have faith that we will make the same choice.

Now, I invite you to take communion.

Does it hurt?

Could be worse.

You put on a brave face, but I can hear your teeth chattering.

The barrel of a rifle will never be worse than a bullet.

You can have one of those, too, if you want.

I can feel your seething anger.

You're angry that I violated the purity of your faith. That proves you're thinking as a Lateran.

Your mission is to bring the Sanctilaminium Ambrosii back to Laterano, and to help the lost Lateran kin there. My mission is to preserve what makes Laterano, Laterano.

Set your sentimentality aside, Lemuen. We're in agreement here.

Enough with your sophistry.

Did you learn it from the Victorian nobles, or Columbian merchants, Legatus Oren?

I said it, the sudden appearance of beasts will frighten wanderers. I'm not going to stand by and watch a massacre happen.

The commandos will be in position any moment now. You can't stop me.

I can incapacitate you, then deal with them.

You may have surprised me once, but it won't work again. Not unless you actually put a bullet in my brain.

Is that so?

Lemuen? Oren? Don't tell me you're really going to—

I am Executor Federico of the Laterano Notarial Hall. That was a warning shot.

Cardinal Aide Lemuen, Legatus Oren, and Technician Serpilia of the Sixth Tribunal. I command you to cease your pointless altercation at once.

I see no need to understand your positions or mediate your conflict.

The mission remains incomplete. Newly emerged factors continue to present a risk of escalation. This monastery needs order.

If there is no contradiction between you, yet conflict remains unresolved; if empathy is not enough to prevent a community from disintegrating...

Then I will be order.

That warning shot was also intended for the special forces outside. Lateran troops will not enter the Sanctilaminium Ambrosii without my express authorization.

You were the one who deployed them, Oren. You will restrain them. Order them to pull back one kilometer and stand by.

Lemuen and Serpilia. The two of you have been in contact with the Sankta and Sarkaz populations here. You will reassure them and prevent the situation from escalating.

Meet me in the chapel once you have finished your task. Richele has uncovered a lead and is following it.

I will find the one responsible for this situation.

......

......

......

You will act now.

Now, I invite you to take communion.

Guess I didn't make it in time.

Almost. All that's left is to wait for it to... finish.

Hm? Did Federico run into trouble? I guess I'm the only one taking care of things here now.

What a chore.

I should have taken the mission to search for the missing Legatus in Sargon. It might have been a little far, but dealing with the people of the sand has got to be less complicated.

Am I doomed to be a workaholic? Truly, our fate lies not in our hands.

Let's see... patron firearm in good working order.

If everyone inside... is one bullet per head enough? Don't tell me I'll have to use my fists...

I should apply for paid leave once I get back to Laterano. The Notarial Hall had better approve it, considering my workload.