Arknights story · The Masses' Travels
MT-ST-2 Enlightenment
The Nativity is successfully completed. Countless eyes witness an arborbeast give birth to a fledgling with a halo. The Matriarch announces that Laterano will bestow its halo upon all. Federico and Arturia return to reality and find that all of Laterano is under the influence of a 'dream'.
1 scenes, 252 lines
1. Interlude
252 linesWait a moment, Senior Executor. So you never intended to bring Arturia back to Landen Monastery?
I never stated that I would.
Well, if you won't, I will!
There are certain things I must still ascertain with Arturia.
...
Now, now, Federico, it won't do to torment a poor nun like that.
Richele?
Did you have to run away so suddenly? All I did was joke around with you a little in front of that confessional.
What was the joke?
Uh, okay... anyway, I know this fugitive's a tough one, so I brought reinforcements.
Giving up my chance to witness the Nativity in the process. Aren't you touched?
I never requested assistance from the Notarial Hall.
I know, I know. You hardly ever work with the other executors.
You think I volunteered for this? Special orders, jointly issued by all seven tribunals of the Curia.
Pretty shocked when I got the orders... for a moment there, I thought Arturia had convinced you to commit treason.
?
...
I have no such intention, and she has no such power.
I have completed my assessment and determined that any risk to the Curia can be eliminated. You and your men may stand down now, Executor Richele.
Are you defying the special orders, Federico?
You have no authority to refuse.
My orders were to oversee Federico's apprehension of Arturia before the Nativity, and to bring both of you in, should there be any suspicious behavior.
Not so fast, Senior Executor.
Were you talking to me, Seniora Arturia?
Of course.
I've been sitting in that monastery ever since I got back. I think I would like to stretch my legs for a while longer still.
It's been more than a decade since I last saw night fall upon the Holy City... the view from this spot is remarkable.
So you're resisting arrest... Oh, I do so hate overtime.
Stay behind us, Sister Hildegard.
You do the honors, Federico. You've been on this criminal's case for years. No one knows her tricks better than you.
Looks like the Lateran has long had its eye on you, Fede.
Raise your gun. It won't be the first time.
...
Arturia stands at the edge of the roof. Federico has many questions, but he can see that her fingers are already touching the strings.
Behind her, Federico sees the Shrine of Nurtury, so tall he cannot see the top, and the infinite crowd meandering towards it.
Richele and his other colleagues stand behind him. Federico hears the sound of weapons being locked and loaded.
Tension runs high. It is as though he must prove something as executor.
There is no time to think. Federico raises his gun.
You have admitted to escaping confinement, Arturia. By the authority of the Lateran Notarial Hall, I am hereby reassessing your danger level and apprehension procedures.
You must fulfill your obligations as a Lateran citizen and work with us to resolve any threat to Laterano.
Without warning, the muzzle of Federico's gun flashes.
At the same time, music pours out of the cello, becoming one with the hymns emitting from the direction of the Shrine of Nurtury, drowning out the sounds on the roof.
Ugh—!
Federico! What are you doing?!
—
I shot at the building beside you. I did not strike any of you.
But... that hurts... Mastigia! I think a rock hit my head... am I bleeding?
Do you know what you've done, Federico...?
Yes, you are bleeding.
I will submit a detailed report once the incident is resolved.
...I will include a detailed explanation of the head injury you have suffered.
That was decisive, Senior Executor.
Now, how do you intend to handle all these unconscious people... what are you looking for?
Richele has an annual pass for the confessionals. They can deliver these people to a hospital.
Now, share your discoveries and work with me to resolve any dangers to Laterano.
It's just a guess.
You chased me all the way here, then got your cohorts out of the way. You've evidently arrived at the same theory I have.
It's almost time, Fede.
Perhaps the city itself will soon tell us exactly what has happened to it.
...
...
...
I've never seen so many outsiders in Laterano.
That's for sure.
The last Summit of Nations didn't have enough guests to fill a single hotel.
Just about every cardinal in the Curia is here... it's so crowded. The air is even more awkward than the Basilica.
We're far enough on the edge, Mostima. We're like the cleaners standing against the wall of a casino.
Whatever this Nativity is, it's probably Andoain bringing out a Sankta kid who just learned to talk, so the Matriarch standing there gets to ceremonially polish the kid's halo...
All symbolic puff. We could be home watching One-Armed Chainsaw Guy 2 instead.
Let's just think of it as watching Nurturer Andoain work.
Haven't you already said all that needs to be said to him?
Yeah.
Fiammetta turns sideways. She has never seen such a serious expression on her friend's face.
I'm feeling nervous... no, anxious, fearful. It's excitement and expectation, and I don't know why...
I can't describe it. It's like my heartbeat isn't my own.
Is this empathy?
You're a fallen Angel and I'm a Liberi. Neither of us has the power. No, it's not just us...
...
...
...
Fiammetta scans the crowd, and is now certain that this heartbeat is not an illusion.
The emotions that she is feeling are written on every face in the crowd. Every heart present throbs to this beat, which does not belong to them.
...Look up.
What?
Comfort bells.
Fiammetta follows her friend's gaze.
All the doors and windows were closed when the Nativity began. Not so much as a breeze can get in.
But the comfort bells are swaying in time, the ones hanging in the Hall of Enlightenment with them, and the ones in the corridors leading to the nurseries. Yet they do not produce the chimes that they should.
A sort of medium... like the musical devices that Leithanians use.
If my guess is right, we're feeling the heartbeat of the mother who is giving birth.
...
It's exactly the same!
It's exactly the same as what I felt when I waited outside the delivery room when my wife gave birth!
I could feel the unfathomable pain, but she would not give up. Her emotions tugged at mine, and we both spoke the name that we had already decided...
'Bailey, Bailey...'
Lord above!
The mother fainted? She's too weak. The pain of birthing is more than she can take... i-it's not good!
My heart's about to leap out of my mouth.
She's not giving up...
Lord, Holy City Most Pure, have mercy on us.
Have mercy on us.
Have mercy on us.
So... this really is a form of... 'empathy'.
Comfort bells sway violently throughout the hall. The ever-shifting emotions in the irregular heartbeats tug at everyone's nerves.
No one knows who the mother is, what her name is, how old she is, where she came from... but everyone knows what she is experiencing. No one moves a single step.
The fragile newborn has not yet triumphed over death. The struggle to break through the shell of ignorance seems eternal. Inside the Shrine of Nurtury, thousands of people experience a childbirth together—
Such clear empathy should never have existed in Laterano.
After a long, long time...
The heartbeat begins to weaken, until all is silent.
...
...
Connect the sensor wire, and activate the timer.
The last bomb... is ready!
Dammit, it's really hard not to march to this heartbeat!
*pant*—*pant*—
Fortunately, I've got the quickest brain in Penguin Logistics!
I could play Super Music Tycoon with one hand and raygun bottle shooting with the other, and beat both the boss and Texas at the same time!
All that practice wasn't for nothing!
Two minute countdown.
Blow up this corridor, and the path to the nursery will be cut off.
I hope my sister's intel is good...
The Shrine of Nurtury took a pregnant Sarkaz from a nomadic abbey, and got her to give birth to a Sarkaz at the Summit of Nations in this crazy ceremony...
I don't know what they're trying to do, but if I can keep her from appearing in front of the crowd—
Excuse me, you're in the way.
The mother is about to give birth. I want to get closer and pray for her.
Yeah. What of it?
Lemuel, right?
We've met before. Your sister brought you to our place.
Oh, er, Fiammetta's grandpa... salve...
...
...
The others are searching for the bombs and neutralizing them, Reverend Patrizion.
Good work.
Stop this Sankta. She has more explosives on her.
Snipers are in position. We will shoot to kill if the suspect attempts to escape.
...
Phew.
Reverend Patrizion...
You're late, Cardinal Lemuen.
Take the suspect back to the Seventh Tribunal.
But if the Nativity isn't about this Sarkaz, then...?
The heartbeat that resonated throughout the hall has quieted down.
A door opens to a corridor. Exusiai looks in the direction of the sound—
...
Carrying a small bundle, the Nurturer stands in the light shining through the door. His hands and robes are stained with blood, but the bundle is clean.
With head bowed, he walks slowly toward the Hall of Enlightenment, towards the waiting Matriarch. The crowd parts to let him through.
Thank you, Andoain.
...
The Matriarch takes the newborn from the Nurturer. She cannot see, and thus does not realize that his brow is furrowed in sorrow.
The Matriarch gently opens the bundle, and reveals the newborn—
A fledgling beast.
He leans against the Matriarch's shoulder, mucous membrane still sticking to its infantile paws. The wet and creased fur shows no sign of relaxing.
His eyes are closed, his breathing barely audible.
As you can see, the first life that the Shrine of Nurtury has brought into this world is this fledgling arborbeast.
His weight is nothing. His weight is everything.
Before I came to Laterano, I found his mother in an abandoned nomadic abbey. She was so famished, her feathers fallen, that I did not at first recognize her as an arborbeast.
A hunter's spear had impaled the mother's abdomen, but missed the fetus by inches.
I do not know how his mother hid for so long, how she survived, and how she stayed awake through the pain and hunger.
Until now.
I thank this strong mother, our Sankta and Liberi brethren, and our honored guests from afar—
This child was born amidst our prayers. He is a miracle that you have made together.
But why...?
Why do his eyes not open?
Matriarch. The newborn's breathing is growing weaker...
...
I tried everything I could think of. His mother gave her all.
Perhaps the mother's injuries were too grave, depriving the fetus of nutrition...
Andoain, we may all have forgotten one thing.
Do you mean...?
The childbirth was long and painful. But from beginning to end, all we felt through the comfort bells, through empathy, was a single heartbeat.
This child was so weak that he could not even express his desire to live, the most primal, most instinctive cry of life.
Andoain bows his head and does not speak.
Is this what you thought the Nativity would be, Mostima?
Damn, this is depressing.
Do they mean that after all that effort from the mother, the baby was stillborn?
Che cazzo! How could this be?!
Lord above!
Is there anything we can do? Like what we did just now, the thousands of us here...
What if I never felt Bailey's heartbeat after hours of waiting outside the delivery room...? What would my wife and I have done...?
No, I can't bear to imagine it!
Poor baby, if you can hear my voice...
Somewhere in the crowd, someone begins sobbing.
Gradually, more and more people lose control of their emotions. Their cries join together and echo through the halls, for the poor mother and her stillborn child.
Then, another cry rings out.
It is not a sad sound. It is young and bright.
The fledgling arborbeast opens its eyes, and, as though sensing the emotions of the crowd, cries out for the first time in its life. It stretches its limbs, and the sheen miraculously returns to its fur.
The Matriarch embraces the newborn life tightly, crying tears of joy. One such tear drops from the empty eye sockets behind her veil, falling upon the fledgling's head, reflecting the light of the sun.
The fledgling does not stop crying. As though driven by the wailing, the light begins to break free of the void's shackles, becoming rich and full—
A halo.
The mark of the Sankta, the symbol of the Law, the embodiment of truth. It has illuminated this unfamiliar creature—
A shining, miraculous beacon.
...
The Lord has once again answered our prayer. He has blessed this child.
This is a miracle not seen in a thousand years. Its appearance on the eve of calamity is a revelation from the Law.
We are all witnesses. We are all participants.
Henceforth, we are born equal and one, beginning with the Holy City, and ending with the Holy City.
—As Sankta.
In the Matriarch's embrace, the newborn licks her arms. He has awakened.
Once again, the comfort bells sway. A new heartbeat, strong and regular, fills the Shrine of Nurtury.
—!
—!
Laterano granted a halo to an arborbeast fledgling?
Even the most incredible miracle in The Saints' Travels pales in comparison.
Is this a divine blessing, or a terrible calamity?
My greater concern is whether it is true, whether it should be believed.
Since when did you start doubting everything you see?
There are too many details, Arturia.
The unusual confessional.
The boundless wheat fields.
The crackdown on the manufacturing of firearms and explosives. The firearms workshops being shut down.
The sudden change in Landen Monastery's role.
The abrupt changes in the administration of the Curia. The colleagues who suddenly appeared to interfere with my investigation.
It was the appearance of Richele and his men, despite the fact that he should not have known my movements, that confirmed my suspicions. Otherwise, I would have continued my efforts to apprehend you.
...
All of these anomalies converge at this Shrine of Nurtury, which seems to have appeared out of nowhere, and the Nativity that so many have fixed their eyes on.
The missing mother you were investigating from the nomadic abbey was the pregnant arborbeast?
Yes.
By chance, my music crossed paths with the voice of her heart. I followed the trail here.
...
The singular item that brought me to my conclusion, of greater weight than any of the above, is how the Lateran people are seemingly oblivious to all of this.
Everything in life has been turned upside-down, but in this country, this city, life goes on, orderly as ever, as though things have always been so.
When six million Laterans continue to live as they always have, it's hard for us to convince ourselves that we're the only sane ones.
Self-doubt is an invaluable experience for a hardhead like you, isn't it?
...
Are you certain now?
Yes.
Mathematics, physics, geography, archaeology, astronomy... no theory or knowledge in science, theology, or philosophy can explain this.
A city with a population of six million, sharing the same hallucination.
But the present circumstances clearly run contrary to the order of Laterano and the foundation of the Law.
I have no doubt.
What a coincidence. Neither do I—
The sound of comfort bells echoes in the sky above the city. The cello's music draws upon a crack, like a hand reaching into the city. The next instant, both sounds are brought to an abrupt halt.
Silence.
The crowds that come and go in front of the square have never existed. Laterano has never been so quiet, even when the city is gazed upon from the highest roof of the Basilica.
Federico and Arturia are unsure if they blinked. A scene most incomprehensible plays out before their eyes—
The shrine continues to tower over the city, utterly out of place, but now dream-like colors begin to run across its surface.
Almost reaching the clouds, it spills its colors upon the pristine white buildings surrounding it.
Doors and windows open to the streets and alleys of Laterano, wherever the shrine's shadow touches, and creatures the likes of which have never been seen before emerge from them...
The scene is indescribable, but there is no doubt in Federico or Arturia that this is the real Laterano.
The next instant, the same word slips from their mouths.
Calamity.