Arknights story · Exodus from the Pale Sea
EP-2 Treatment by Limb Amputation
Thorns refuses to fix the compass for Juana, and it seems the sailors support his decision behind their leader's back. Meanwhile, Elysium and Weedy come to Aarón to find the missing Thorns.
2 scenes, 444 lines
1. Before Operation
224 linesYou're always looking out to sea when you're alone.
When I was but a wee babe, you'd pick me up, point out into the distance, and tell me that if I kept going that-a-ways, I'd see an ocean bluer than the sky above.
That was fifty years ago.
There's things that happened a hundred years ago you still haven't forgotten, señora.
Oh, my little perlita, if you had captained a ship across the churning waves like I once had, seen lightning crash into lightning between the clouds, heard the unending peals of thunder...
You'd never forget a moment of it your entire life either.
I'm mighty curious, though, what's this sea the old folks keep going on about really like?
I've lived in this Flat my whole life, so I don't get it at all, no matter how much I rack my brains.
Before my old man died, he'd talk day in day out about going out to sea, about how he followed you and Captain Cruz in filling your holds with treasure—so full your ships would be low in the water.
Your father was the nimblest topman I've ever seen. He'd climb masts like he was going for a stroll in a garden.
Shame there's not many sailors left who've actually seen the sea for themselves.
And that's my biggest worry, señora. Even with the compass leading the way, we lack seasoned sailors.
When it comes to the sea, Perlita, we are all reckless, ignorant children.
*Sigh* ...Nowadays, it's starting to feel like even heading out into the Flat's more trouble than it's worth.
A little fowlbeast told me that a particularly astounding fellow has come to Aarón, and in the process cut off nearly all our trade routes.
Have they finally decided to take us seriously?
He managed to sniff out all the sites we use to contact the caravans like some kinda beckbeast. Few decades ago, the useless bastards in town couldn't even spot our footprints.
*Sigh*... Stealing the compass out from under the noses of a massive garrison. To the Inquisition, it might as well have been both humiliation and provocation.
They'll do whatever they can to find us. It won't be easy.
We're running out of time, and the boy won't budge... What do we do, señora?
What if he's telling the truth? That he's not an alchemist?
I am absolutely certain he is one, Perlita.
The coin on him has the symbols for 'salt' and 'water' on its faces. A set of symbols particular to the school of alchemy. And that particular combination means 'look to the sea for life'.
I am familiar with the coin's former owner, Aulus. He was the most talented of the alchemists.
Moreover, the boy has the same style of swordplay as him. Even their speech has similarities as well.
Even if they knew each other, that doesn't mean he taught him anything. The coin could've been a gift.
No. If Aulus gave that to someone, it can only mean he had unusually high expectations for him.
According to their traditions, the coin can only be passed from teacher to student.
So why won't he admit it, then?
That puzzles me as well. I've already made it perfectly clear he has nothing to fear if he cooperates...
Young Isidro bites down on the root of his tooth with great force, but he cannot stem the flow of stinging pain bubbling up from his gum.
Before him, a former classmate's corpse lies under the foot of his mentor.
The corpse's long-cold limbs are lined with an azure mucus that makes him retch.
Through the tears in his eyes, a gentle voice like flowing water pierces the depths of his heart.
Why do you wipe away your tears, Isidro?
You killed him...
The sea and the land are as one. To mix them together is nothing more than erasing the barriers between them.
He decided, of his own free will, to embrace the salt and water flowing within his own body, to share all of his existence with us.
Be not afraid, be not hateful, derisive, loathing... Shut not the windows, bar not the doors, close not your heart. No longer shall there be polluted blood or shameful pain.
There will come a day when all will give their all to each other.
Suddenly, the corpse on the floor jerks like a fin out of water, letting out a gurgle of what sounds like grief, before falling flat once more.
Isidro watches the corpse's eyelids slowly lift, revealing the eyes of some unfamiliar creature.
Its lips open wide, and a voice, human yet inhuman, warbles out.
'You are... the same... as me...'
No—!
I will never... I will never be like you...
I won't...
*Sigh*...
Mm-ph!
(Flops about)
Hmm...?
(Claps fins together)
You...
(Nibbles ferociously)
Ow! What are you doing?!
Nene twists around his leg, trying to use its rotund body to cover his foot.
A variety of sounds leak into the shed from his surroundings. Some weeping, some arguing, but mostly cursing.
Isidro hopes they aren't cursing at him. Wait... He freezes in place as the gears in his subconscious mind begin to turn.
He sticks out his head. No guard outside his door. How unusual.
A line of people walk through the middle of the haven, their heads hung low, their clothes smeared with blood.
Those at the back of the line are dragging planks behind them, with people sporting heinous wounds lying atop them. The wounds are so deep their bones are visible, bandaged only with rags.
Their blood has soaked into the planks, leaving behind long red streaks on the white salt.
Only the occasional gasp stands as proof that they still live.
Only half of 'em made it back...
*Sigh*...
What... What happened out there?
The Inquisition capullos ambushed us at dawn on the only road out. A lot of our mates gave their lives to see us live... Took everything we had to escape.
The townsfolk don't have salt ships. How'd they get deep enough into the Flat to even find you?
Who knows?
They're like ghosts, like they don't feel pain. They don't even fall down if you cut them open. They just get right back to attacking you instead.
(Whispers) The clerics in town barely knew the blade from the hilt... How could they pull off something like this?
Oh, there you are, Teach. Where's the rest of your men? Managed to get done what needed doing?
Heavy losses, just like you. There's another crew I haven't heard a peep from either.
...If this goes on, we won't even have enough men to continue salvaging.
Teach is about to say something when she spots Isidro among the crowd.
She walks over, grabs him, and drags him to Rus.
How'd you get out?
No guard at the door.
Bring him with you.
Me?
Aye.
I say nay.
I'm saying nay too. This is your problem. I'm not getting involved.
If you want to eat, you have to work, chaval. If not alchemy, then you'll have to offer something else.
Why not just let me go already?
Don't even think about it. Best prepare yourself to spend the rest of your days here. We're sorely low on manpower.
...Stop pulling me.
Morning of the day after tomorrow, Rus, you bring the boy here. I'll go tell the boss.
What is even going on right now?
...
Mm-ph!
You want to come along too?
(Nods furiously)
No.
(Gnaws fin indignantly)
Put the luggage down here, Leaf.
Wait up, Weedy!
I don't understand... Why did you bring so much stuff with you?
I haven't seen Thorns in a while, right? As his best friend, it's only natural I have a few things to give him.
You could've let Leaf carry them.
*Sigh* Help tidy this stuff up, Leaf.
What a big bag... Cleanser, lotion... Oof, that's heavy! Why so many skincare products?
How else am I supposed to protect myself from this scorching sun? I'm not having a repeat of the tragedy from my last holiday.
Holiday? Aren't we here to find Thorns after he went missing?
Bah, he's a big boy now, he can handle getting a little lost. Let's see, what's in this bag here... Oh right, clothes.
Do you really need an entire suitcase full of outfits for this mission?
As a representative of Rhodes Island, it's very important that I maintain a certain image.
Wait, so which of these were you giving to Thorns?
That package there, the one you're stepping on!
Sunscreen... Waterproof, cooling, whitening... Does he really need any of this?
What kind of friend would I be if I let him burn to a crisp?
...Well, you know him better, so if you say so.
Hey, careful with those, watch what you're throwing!
Someone's coming. We shouldn't block the street.
Will you be holding a sermon for us tonight, Señor Alguacil?
Also, I must thank you! My wife used to sneak into the kitchen every night to eat the grain we had stored away, while keeping to the teachings against gluttony by day.
But ever since hearing you preach, she hasn't sinned even once! Your teachings have cleansed her soul, and for that, I am grateful beyond words!
I merely shared with everyone all my worldly possessions...
You... You are far too humble, señor.
Señor Alguacil, please, allow me to hold your hand. Such frightful events have happened in Aarón lately, and I'm terribly afraid...
You may, if it might bring you comfort.
Wh—While I have never sinned, I was wondering if you could...
If you could lay your hand atop my head...
Alright, no crowding, one at a time!
Control yourselves! Think about your request before your turn comes! Do not take up too much of the Alguacil's time!
(Whispers) The locals here seem a little... odd...
(Whispers) Probably because they trust in the Inquisition.
May I help the two of you?
Ah, that would be amazing! What should I call you, amigo?
Anastasio is my name.
(Whispers) This dude's really popular...
(Whispers) That's for sure. Everyone who sees him stops to greet him.
Calificador Silver is waiting inside. Pray, enter.
Ah, the burden of those cursed with charm. I know it all too well, amigo.
...Pardon?
Is this man your...?
Oh, we're just colleagues. Honestly, I barely know him.
*Ahem* I am afraid we do not have what we need to hold a proper reception for you, my guests.
The town granary was recently burnt down by bandits, so I'm afraid we're all going a bit hungry before the next caravan arrives.
Don't worry about it, we brought our own food.
I am truly sorry for this.
I believe we have yet to formally introduce ourselves?
This is Field Operator Elysium, and I'm Engineering Operator Weedy, both from Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals.
You're an engineer, then?
Yes, I am.
Are you familiar with the mechanics behind wind-powered light landships?
Well, my specialty is bioengineering, so I can't say I'm too familiar with mechanical engineering. However, based on my limited knowledge, I'd say it would be difficult to realize.
It's different from seaborne ships. If the materials aren't robust enough, the ship will fall apart the moment it tries to move.
(Impatiently blows at his red streak of hair)
What if we used steel for the keel?
I'm afraid that would make them too heavy. That's precisely why it's difficult to make wind-powered ones.
Then would you say making such a landship is near impossible?
No, I'm sure someone could come up with a design. Once you manage to work out the kinks, the actual construction shouldn't be too difficult.
Well, if we're talking about today's Iberia trapped in its own web... It wouldn't be much more difficult than making a traditional landship.
I see...
(Impatiently waves his hands)
Look, I'm terribly sorry, but shouldn't we, uh, talk business first?
For example, the whereabouts of my friend...
Dios mio, forgive me! I got carried away. Could you describe him for me?
Calm down, Señor Elysium. I am simply stating the facts.
What you're saying is that a Rhodes Island operator colluded with bandits from the Salt Flat, both in stealing the corpses of the townspeople and arranging a rescue from his execution.
He never mentioned Rhodes Island during the interrogation... but the crimes are real.
Ahem. There must be some sort of misunderstanding here.
I regret to inform you that all the information we have points towards him being this criminal.
Mm-ph!
(Wriggles about)
I said, stop following me already.
Show Nene a little more respect, chaval.
I'm treating it the way I would treat any of you.
Which clearly isn't respectful enough. Nene's far more useful than you are.
I thought it was your emergency rations.
It's practically the boss's heart and soul! Who'd dare harm a scale on its head?
Besides, it's got far sharper senses than us out in the Flat. How else are we supposed to find anything under all that salt?
What are you looking for?
Hah, what else? Relics of the Golden Age. Sometimes high-tech curios, sometimes luxury items or whatever else. Good money either way.
But doesn't the Inquisition crack down on these sorts of excavations for Golden Age antiques?
They may not like it, but the caravans sneaking into Iberia sure do. We trade these trinkets for water and supplies. It beats begging, that's for sure.
So it's smuggling...
Don't give me that look. You think it's easy, living out here?
But you, chaval...
Every last one of the materials we got you for your alchemy, down to the smallest finbone, was bought by the blood, sweat, and tears of our crew.
...So think it over. If you know you can't do it, then don't waste our booty.
What are you suggesting?
Do a little hoo-hah during your alchemy, show the boss you failed, and give her a reason to back down from this madness.
(Whispers) Can't you just, I don't know, let me go?
I...
Also, why not tell her that yourself?
Don't want her to think we're against the plan. We respect her... fear her.
Fear? Well, I suppose she is an amazing fighter.
There're better reasons to be afraid of her.
Juana stops in her tracks, as though she sensed something in the wind.
She looks behind her. She sees no trace of any living creature, besides her own footprints left on the desolate Salt Flat.
She breathes a sigh of relief and continues onwards. There is a giant skeleton in front of her, and below it, a dark shadow.
She steps into the shadow, and disappears.
There was a mutiny, back in the day, but only a few old bastards still remember it.
Someone said—in front of everyone—that she'd been working with the sea monsters, that she offered her entire crew up for freakish strength and longevity.
You mean the Seaborn?
Whatever they're called. At the time, the sea had only just retreated, and the monsters were still running wild. It was thanks to Captain Cruz and his crew risking life and limb that most of 'em were cleared out.
And Captain Cruz... They all died out in the Flat. Well, almost all. Juana was the only one to come back.
And when she did, she took over the entire fleet. Anyone who didn't wanna follow her ended up dying, one by one. On hunting trips or in Inquisition ambushes.
You said these were just rumors.
...Even Teach was but a lass when this all went down.
So you think she isn't actually trying to fix the compass to help everyone find a way out?
Mayhaps... Could be part of a much bigger plan. Nobody knows what she really wants.
Are you the only one who suspects her, Señor Rus?
...There's a few of us.
What about Señor Javier?
No, that boy has never doubted her for a second.
She's taken care of him so long, he sees her as a mother. She took him under her wing after his mother died.
Those Seaborn in the rumors... Have any of the sailors ever seen one?
Nope... Not a one.
Mmp...Mmph!
*Glub*—!
What's its problem?
Hah, looks like Nene found something.
Stow the sails, you scallywags! Drop anchor! We're setting down!
You heard him! Get digging!
Remember to bring your shovel and your sword, chaval. Don't even think about running. I'll have someone keep an eye on you.
2. After Operation
220 lines...A ship's log?
You recognize that?
It's something mariners used to use to record what happened on their voyages.
So, you seen a lot of this sorta thing?
...Sí. My teacher taught me many things.
Must've had guts to do that.
So are you going to stand behind me and commentate all day, or...?
Think it was my idea, chaval? Bosun told me to keep a close eye on you.
I'm sure you can do that without literally breathing down my neck.
Hmph.
That sound... I know that sound...
Isidro looks around vigilantly, warned by the sound on the salt wind. Behind the sailor, he sees a familiar dent appear on the surface of the salt.
Out of the way! Saltfin incoming!
You got finshit for brains?!
Mreep... Mreep...
You shoved me aside for this?
You think it was one of them giant saltfins or something?
Shut up...
If it were, the whole ground'd be shaking. One of these small fry just leaves a little dent is all.
Besides, they're the same sorta critter as Nene. What's it gonna do, cuddle you to death?
What's that crazy puta even need from a guy as stupid as you, anyway?!
Mmph...
Mreep...
They're... the same species?
Mreep...
So there's more than one variety of saltfin out here?
Yep. About ten or so types, big and small.
Some of your sails are made from leather. Are they...
Saltfin hide. Also use it for tents.
And the meat you hang out to dry outside...
Saltfin meat.
Your weapons...
Saltfin bones.
And those guys are...
Mmph...
Mreep...
They ain't the same. Won't hurt 'em unless we really have to.
The crazy puta loves 'em to death. Once tried to haul some aboard to raise them, but a day away from their friends and they lose all the spirit. She had to give up that loco plan.
Then why's that one part of the crew?
Mm-ph.
Nene was abandoned by its mates. Couldn't keep up with 'em thanks to its weak body. Lucky for it, she went and picked it up.
Cheep...
Mm-ph!
They're leaving?
That's normal. They don't stay in one place for too long.
One after the other, the saltfins drill into the salt, speeding off into the distance.
Their tracks lace and intertwine, leaving the salt surface looking like a cracked mirror.
They fascinate Isidro. He climbs up on a jagged rock, hoping to get a better look at the where the cracks are headed from a higher vantage point.
He stands at its peak, and to his surprise, he sees an immense gash barreling towards them, swallowing up any salt reefs or skeletons in its path.
He realizes the saltfins weren't leaving. They were fleeing.
(Runs around anxiously)
No... That's definitely not normal.
You see something?!
Move! Quickly!
In an instant, the ground splits into a gaping maw, threatening to devour the two as they sprint away.
Cesc stumbles as he tries to flee, the collapsing earth grabbing at his ankle. He screams in terror.
Isidro grabs hold of his arm, but he soon finds out he is powerless against nature's brute strength.
Just as the two are about to be swallowed whole, the collapse miraculously stops. The sailor's lower leg is wedged tight between the jagged earth, now nothing more than a bloody, mangled mess.
The hell's going on over there?!
The salt split open! I think someone fell in!
Go have a look then, quick!
I'll be going now.
Get back here, you capullo! Don't even think about running!
...
Hey... Don't leave me here by myself...
Mm... hmph...
Your crewmates will be over soon. You'll be fine.
Wh... Where are you going?
(Nips at Isidro's pants)
Not sure. Somewhere you can't find me.
...N—No... You can't go.
Bosun's... orders... I... have to keep an eye on you.
*Glub*—!
I haven't been here to see you for so long...
All is going according to plan.
Yes, we've taken a few risks, but they were worth it.
Soon we will set our sails once more, and return to the ocean's embrace.
Are you happy for me?
The sound of metal scraping against stone echoes out from the cave, followed by a slender Seaborn slowly slithering its way out, its form warped and twisted.
Each of its tentacles is wrapped around a weapon. As their points and edges drag across the stone walls, they keen and wail.
It slowly approaches the saltfin meat, and slowly eats away at it, its eyes fixed on Juana the entire time.
She meets its gaze, quietly waiting for the Seaborn's reply.
But in her heart, she knows that it is no more than a beast, a beast without a speck of intellect or humanity.
...
We will leave this place, this desert of salt. No matter the price.
Juana turns and exits the cave, leaving behind only the Seaborn, trashing around like a caged animal now that it has finished its meal.
Rocks fall from the ceiling until finally, it ceases its struggle for a way out, slowly calming down in the darkness.
Dios mio... What happened here? Did that boy do this?!
N—No, it was my fault... B—But he ran away...
Forget him! You lot come over and help pull him out.
AHHHH! MY LEG!
Bosun, his leg...
Speak up!
I—I don't think we can save it! We need to call the surgeon!
When's the last time we had a surgeon...
But only a surgeon'd know how to cut it off right! Else he'll bleed to death!
I don't wanna die here...
Save me, bosun! Save me!
Cesc... I...
I'm here. I know what to do.
Chaval...
He'll live. I guarantee it.
Good. Get over here.
Bite down on the hilt. Hard.
Grkh...
This'll sting a little. Just bear with it.
GKKHHH—!
Thorns!
How could they do you dirty like this on your own wanted poster? What's with that picture?
...Why are you so quick to concede that it's Thorns now? Weren't you just insisting it was all a mistaken identity?
What if those bandits forced him into it? Or maybe he was framed? He's not much of a talker. I can definitely see him putting his foot in his mouth while explaining himself.
If he is the upstanding young man you say he is, then surely he's dead by now, killed by either the bandits or by the dangers of the Salt Flat.
No... What exactly would they do to him?
They like to... No, you would be happier not knowing.
We've done all we can to keep them away from town, but they've still managed to abduct some of our best and brightest.
Their leader is a vile monster, able to corrupt the hearts of others.
Oh...
Time to start cooking... Hmm? Who touched my kitchen?
(Cautious sniff)
That smell... It's coming from the pot over there...
Stewed fin hearts? This is Señora Juana's specialty.
But they went bad ages ago. Better put that fire out.
During the Profound Silence, most of Aarón was submerged under the sea. Only this small part atop the hill avoided that grim fate, but it too shortly fell to chaos as the harvest failed.
The pirates sailed in before the seawater retreated. They claimed they would bring order to Aarón.
But in truth, they only wished to burn, kill and maim, forcing the townsfolk to surrender to their reign of terror.
Everything they saw was put to the torch...
Fire! HELP! FIRE! The pot blew up!
Mierda! Why's there a fire here?!
Javier, you dried-out piece of finshit! How many times do I have to tell you NOT to let this useless cockeyed bastard in the kitchen until he gets some glasses?!
Ohh... It was fin oil... Sorry, was all blurry to me!
Out of my sight, dumbass!
—Where the hell's Javier? Get over here and put out this fire already!
Quick, cover it with salt!
Ahh! My clothes! I just sewed up that finleather coat!
...Mmm... Roast finleather smells... pretty good...
Even if he is lucky enough to be alive, the bandits themselves live harsh lives in the wastes. Surely they wouldn't treat their captives well. He's most likely dying of hunger and thirst at this very moment.
...
Are you alright, Elysium?
I'm fine... Señor Calificador, please, continue.
Needless to say, we can only pray he does nothing to incur their wrath.
Their punishments are as barbaric as they are capricious. They'll slit open bellies or chop off hands and feet over the slightest offense...
To think they'd twist the law like that...
S—Slit open bellies or chop off hands and feet, you say...?
AHHH—HHHHH!
Hah... Hah...
Get some rum! Give him a swig!
Rus! Rus! How's my leg...?
Alright... Lie down, and stay calm...
Your leg's still out in the Flat. It won't hurt any longer.
We've been looking after you here, Cesc. Don't worry, the surgery was a success. You won't be dying today.
Oh... Oh...
I just cut his leg off. I can't call it surgery.
He's alive. That's surgery enough for us.
...
...
Calm down, Elysium. There's nothing to suggest that these bandits have killed him.
I don't want to think too much about the possibility, but... where would we even go to find out?
Weedy does not answer. In the distance, several corpses hang from a pole outside of town, swinging in the wind.
A fowl lands atop it, feasting on the carrion.
...
Oh, you two are guests of the Inquisition.
Those were bandits caught by the Alguacil. They were hanged, all according to the teachings.
Their bodies will serve as a warning to others of their kind.
...
Dead if you stick with the bandits, dead if you come back looking like a bandit...
Thorns...
Hey, joven, you still want that paper you're holding?
Nah, I don't need it anymore. Here, take it.
Gracias. Finally found something to stick my bed together with.
Hmm? Isn't this...
What, have you seen him before?
Of course I have. I even sheltered him for a night.
The fleet's heading out into the flat to hunt saltfins in a few days, and I'd like the boy to come along.
We've lost a lot of men this month, and our surgeon and navigator sacrificed themselves to get us out of the Inquisition's trap. I think he can fill in for their posts.
That's how you plan to fix our manpower problem?
I only let him help on the salvage ship because of Teach's guarantee, but did he not almost run away today?
And now you're telling me you want him to join you on a finship.
Señora... I know he's a precious, precious alchemist, but he's great with a sword too and knows his medicine. He'll be real handy during a hunt.
You might as well open the door and let him leave. He'll find no shortage of opportunities to escape out there.
I'm a pirate, Rus. We're not the most kind-hearted sort.
Please, señora, we've lost way too many men in these last few tussles with the Inquisition.
You're not the only one in this fleet who needs him... We all do.
He's far from a good little boy, you know. In fact, he's rather naughty. How will you ensure he does as he's told?
He'd never met Pascuala before, but he still saved her sorry behind when the Inquisition was chasing her down, and saw her safely to town. Didn't ask for a reward, neither.
He could've left Cesc to die, but he didn't. Chose to come back and help us save him.
He... He's a good kid. An honest kid.
As long as we show him how much we need him, he won't just sit back and watch us suffer.
...
Any other news from the crew?
Nothing yet... Nothing about our food supplies for the next month, at least.
*Sigh*...
Fine, he can go with you.
So the boy was your friend, then?
A fine young man. Such a shame what happened... And in the prime of his youth...
Elysium? Elysium!
Weedy, Thorns is definitely out there, waiting for us to save him!
Here, a communicator. You stay in town, I'll head out into the Salt Flat.
Huh... Wha...?
ELYSIUM!
Wait for me, Thorns! I'm coming!
...
Why do you kids never let me finish?
You were trying to say...
It's a shame a fine young man like that would come back to Iberia just to learn a bit of swordplay.
Wouldn't it be better to live out the rest of your days in some other country?
...
This bread is... burnt.
Should still be edible, at least.
That bunch of useless pricks... I'll cave their skulls in one day, mark my words.
Lucky we didn't lose too much.
(*chews*)
Why're you snacking on a lump of charcoal?
Because I'm hungry.
Toss that out and come with me.
You've got a lot to learn afore you can join a finship crew.
Finship? What finship?