Arknights story · Episode 14: Absolved Will Be the Seekers
14-13 Descent from the Origin
Back in Londinium, the workers begin working with Reunion. Amnannam descends upon the pinnacle of the Shard. Lifebone takes flight, picking up Amiya and the others.
1 scenes, 339 lines
1. Interlude
339 linesThis is how you do it, right? Aim at the enemy, then—
Whoa!
Bloody hell.
Relax, Tommy. It's not much different from the machines you worked day after day, in that both can make a mess out of you in an instant. Just remember to keep the safety engaged when you're not using it.
Ha, haha.
Where did that white-haired Feline get all this stuff with things the way they are now?
Catherine?
I'm fine. Chronic stuff.
Look at the dust on these weapons. They're brand-new, but they've been in storage for a while.
This isn't standard-issue military stuff, more like custom weapons for special operations, and they weren't made by Londinium factories
Looks like Millscar is more than just your average gangster.
Do you mean she's an informant for somebody big? So, she's willing to trade weapons with us because—
Don't expect to play an important role in their games. These stuff were probably meant for something else, and she came to us only after that fell through.
Or maybe Millscar raided some duke's secret arsenal in Londinium and selflessly decided to share it with people in need. Who knows?
What she's after doesn't matter to us. We're just taking things one step at a time.
We've sent a few scouts out since the sky turned red. For some reason, all the Sarkaz soldiers seemed to have pulled out of Highbury.
That doesn't mean we're safe. Quite the contrary, it means the Sarkaz don't care about managing the city anymore. Factories, production lines... none of these matter to them anymore.
I had a look at Magna Borough yesterday. It's been turned into a huge Arts Circle...
Hundreds if not thousands are trapped in their strange witchcraft, fueling the Sarkaz altars.
At this rate, it won't be long before it's our turn.
...
What are you planning? Should we get that thing we've been building out there, and—
Don't be silly. Just because you got some decent gear doesn't mean you suddenly became a commando.
We have a few decent weapons. They'll allow us to defend ourselves if the Sarkaz come for us, no more than that.
We must—
'Wait for an opportunity.'
When do you think that opportunity is going to come, though?
Wh-Who are you? How did you find this place?
...I've seen your clothes.
You went to all that effort to sneak into Londinium at a time like this, even investigating our background... what do you need with a few old workers, now?
Reunion?
The 13th ventilation tunnel is running. There are marks on the 54th ropeway.
I suggest you double-check. If we can find it, so can the Sarkaz.
Oh, my name's Nine, by the way. And yes, I'm with Reunion.
We want to know how long you plan to wait.
We have folks who used to work in Sudean Borough. They say the workers of Londinium were always proud that they built this great city.
But has it ever truly belonged to you, past or present?
Madam Catherine, your condition—
I've heard the stories. I'll give you credit where it's due, but spare me that crap about the non-Infected taking everything from you. I'm not interested.
What are a few rocks here and there in today's Londinium? We have a lot more to worry about.
True.
Infected or uninfected... none of that matters in Londinium now.
So, are you planning to take back the city?
From all who stood idly by while all this happened, from the people who allowed things to get to this point.
What did you say?
Londinium is filled with Originium dust. Many will become sick and die because of it.
The culprit will be made to pay, whoever they are, whether they have rocks growing out of them or not.
Reunion won't wait at the finish line. Not anymore.
You're—
Hey, Tommy! Remember me?
Mayore! I thought you got sick and—oh, so that's how you ended up with Reunion.
Well, I'm back. Here, Oripathy prevention pills. Take one per day. There's only so much it can do, though, so you'd better pray that your luck's good.
You guys...
To tell you the truth... your look when you left the factory... I thought you would have loved nothing more than for all of us to become Infected like you.
Maybe I really did.
But it wasn't you who lost me my job. Wasn't Catherine, either. I know you lot tried to put in a good word for me, but those were the rules.
Maybe not anymore, though.
There's a lot we can help with—using and maintaining equipment, operating in high-Originium environments, tactics, covert operations. Anything you need.
We'll help you liberate this place, if you'll let us... from the people who saw all this as nothing more than the 'price of business'.
We'll take the city back, with or without you, Nine of Reunion.
But—
We look forward to working with you.
Aefanyl...
...Mother?
My child...
Have you come to see me off?
You're badly hurt, my child.
I lost.
I did all I could, but I still lost.
But I have no regrets about the path I chose, nor doubts about the ideals I believed in.
...But I'm sorry I let you down.
Why say that?
You have defeated so many powerful foes. How long has it been since the Court of the Banshees had a warrior and sovereign so strong, so steadfast?
The Court is proud of you. So am I, even if you reject the traditions of the Royal Court.
Not so fast, my lazy boy.
It's not bedtime yet.
But I'm—
Rise and shine, Aefanyl.
Up yet, sleepy-head?
...Mother?
Good, you still recognize my voice.
How about a kiss for your dear mother on the cheek? It's been so long, after all.
Me? Of course not. A mother should let her son roam free, once he's all grown up.
Just a little token of love to record important moments in your life for me.
I will say, I was a little surprised it recorded not just your performance in battle, but you putting this outfit on...
Hm... I know, Her Highness Theresa liked it this way, but...
Never mind. As long as you like it.
You're bothered by what I'm wearing? When this device of yours...
Isn't it adorable?
...
A Banshee should value her words, rather than waste them on disputing the aesthetics of a gadget.
How could you say that!
Think of all the love that your mother and sisters put into it! Is this how you repay our affection?
...
Go. Your friends are waiting.
I'm so proud of you.
(Intimidating roar)
We're too late.
The last vestige of Teekaz fades away.
But it had gotten an answer, a recognition, a response.
The sensation was subtle at first.
But the clouds no longer converged upon the pinnacle of the Shard, replaced by something else.
The branches and vines began to bear red fruit.
It is a bizarre scene, but somehow it inspires comfort rather than fear, as though this is how it should be, how it always has been.
The world seems to have always been like this; all that has happened is that someone had removed the back cover of a clock by accident, revealing the springs and gears underneath.
Originium is an integral part of Terra's ecology. Originium in the atmosphere bring about Catastrophe, and Originium in the body cause sickness. Even insects know to cover themselves in hard shells of Originium.
The coexistence of Originium and Terra is an immutable law, just like how two parallel lines can never intersect.
But where did Originium come from?
Has Amnannam descended after all?
The Confessarii's control over Amnannam exceeds our expectations. We're one step too late.
Will it become a weapon for the Sarkaz?
Can the Sighs of Kings still fight it?
No... Amnannam brings more than Catastrophe, and it's far more than a weapon.
It's not just the origin of the Sarkaz... in fact, one could say it's the origin of everything in Terra.
This may be the greatest crisis we've ever seen... maybe the greatest crisis Terra has ever seen.
Can we stop it?
We need to find a way out of here first!
The Lifebone. W is there. We can seek the Feranmut's help!
Let me try to get in touch with W—
No, I'm not getting through—
Hello? Hello? ...Finally!
...Bunny... where...
Almost... Manfred... Hoederer has...
The agreed time...
—
Try to take off, W!
...Where? How did—
Find where the biggest commotion is! That's where we are!
Originium is everywhere here.
And what catches W's attention like nothing else?
Twelve hours ago...
Fifty-eight hours into the operation...
Sir, we've taken control of the Lifebone's central area.
Examine the skeleton and eliminate any resistance. Tell Nadine to clean up the remaining mercenaries outside. Leave no survivors.
Set up defenses around the skeleton and rig it with explosives.
Do you mean to...?
...Yes, Sir!
...
The blood reaches Manfred's feet. He takes one glance at the body on the ground, then turns and leaves the room.
What to do with enemy mercenaries that we captured in the Lifebone, sir?
Is this all of them?
Yes, sir. Many of them previously served the Military Commission.
Kill them all.
Yes, sir!
...
Show yourself.
G-General Manfred...
...Paprika.
Was I supposed to see you here?
I... I was captured by the mercenaries here while transporting a shipment.
I had to protect my squad...
That doesn't explain why you didn't respond when the Military Commission attacked this skeleton.
And what were you doing hiding here?
I... I was just afraid.
Hmph. Afraid.
Your previous mission is over, Paprika.
Your new mission is to execute these traitors to the Military Commission.
But... but they're prisoners, defenseless—
As warriors, they're traitors to their cause. As mercenaries, they've unilaterally broken their contract. One way or the other, they must pay the price.
B-But they're in no position to resist anymore. They're no threat to you.
What meaning is there to all this killing? Didn't you say yourself that you wanted as many Sarkaz to go home as possible—
I gave you a chance, Paprika. I've been very patient.
You're not the first one to disappoint me today.
General!
The engineers have examined the Lifebone. The structure is largely intact, and the mercenaries don't have the means to make direct modifications. However...
We found a large amount of explosives that were not set by us.
Explosives?
Unable to reach Lieutenant General Nadine, sir!
What?
That hard-headed Hoederer can come in useful once in a while. You really did lead an attack squad, Manfred.
Is this our first formal meeting? I guess I should introduce myself. I'm from Babel, and I'm here to take your life. You can call me W.
A mercenary from Hoederer Squad...
You came back to die?
Die?
Pfft. Have you thought for a moment that why your attack has gone a little too smoothly? Where did you think all the mercenaries went?
Who's surrounded now?
You think this rabble can stand against the soldiers of the Military Commission?
I hope your bones are as hard as your words.
Because I'll blow your head off before your soldiers can even knock on the door.
Hmph...
Manfred begins to swing, but shadows entangle his feet. Then bombs explode all around him before he can break free.
Aim, W!
Stop complaining! I told you I'm good at controlling explosions!
*cough*—
You're trying to destroy the skeleton—
Oh, is that not very convenient?
I'm not sentimental like Hoederer is. I have absolutely no problem making this big pile of bones your grave.
I wonder what Theresis would be sadder about: Losing this big guy, or losing his favorite foster son.
You think I'd let you do that?
...Not a moment too soon.
The bloodied assassin stops the foe's sword, not the slightest hint of wavering in her sleeve-blade.
You...
You're not ready to kill me.
Cut off this guy's golden head, Ascalon, and I'll listen to anything you say for a whole year!
I've asked you this question before, Ascalon. What do you believe in?
Seventy hours into the operation...
*Huff*... *huff*... won't let me have a breather.
Crane! Where are you guys? You were supposed to be guarding the top of the spine. Why do troops keep dropping down—
...
Oh, Crane's dead. Damned Manfred. I think I have a concussion.
Ascalon—
She's outside.
Looks like we're bringing a whole bunch of dead bodies with us. Great.
W—
Try—take off—
—biggest commotion—
They're trying to reach us!
Ines, is Hoederer still breathing?
(Weak breathing)
The bleeding's stopped, at least.
Then wake him up and get him to put his Feranmut friend to work!
You're asking too much—
Fine, maybe Hoederer needs to lie down a little longer. Well, this guy has been lying down long enough.
Bonesy! Wake up! How do you like this alarm clock?
W, you lunatic! Hoederer is wounded!
Explosions echo in the chamber, followed by a rumbling, muddled voice.
Mm?
Oh, it's you. The Sarkaz historian. What happened to your face? Did your great adventure not go well?
Oh, shut up! Get us out of here if you don't want your last bones blown to smithereens! And shake those Royal Court fleas off you if you can.
Oh, I forgot. My body's still here.
The flea part is a little too much to ask. You all look the same size to me.
Mm. I suppose we should go.
The voice sighs, stirring up a turbulence in the fabric of time and space.
...This round is mine.
I have no intention of gloating. It took too much time, and... you've never been so weak before.
The previous battle had taken its toll on you, and this type of operation is not your forte.
A new Kazdel is complete. You know that, Ascalon. You know that you are fighting against our own future.
Future, you say.
You say I never saw clearly what our sovereign was thinking.
But I understand now.
Someone will complete the work that she left unfinished. Amiya, Kal'tsit... I will remove all obstacles that stand in their way.
How blind and stubborn. Why do you not understand that this was Lady Theresa's wish too?
The Lifebone is activating? How could—
You've failed. You can't stop us anymore.
This skeleton will be destroyed.
No one can threaten the future that His Highness will bring to Kazdel.
Even if neither of us will live to see it.
Manfred throws down his sword and takes out the detonation switch. He places his finger on it.
Hesitation.
Why?
He has seen death in the eye many times. He does not fear it. Why should he hesitate?
But the Lifebone...
How many people could it guide home?
—!
Ascalon throws herself at Manfred in his moment of hesitation.
The two of them fall into the turbulence together.
Right here, where the mountain's energies are most focused.
Here goes nothing.
Ready—
Black Arts penetrate the mountainous Originium.
The collapse has begun.
Run!
You grab Mon3tr's claw, an action that has become second-nature. Mon3tr screeches joyfully and begins to run.
Behind you is the terrifying roar of destructive energy running rampant.
The violent chain-reaction causes everything around you to tremble.
...
The legions of Nachzehrers follow the trembling.
The Sudaram are chasing us!
Don't fight them! Don't let them bog you down!
Warriors wrapped in tattered banners swarm upon you. Many of them are swallowed by the Originium chain-reaction, but even more join the ranks of your pursuers.
(Unhappy Whining)
Sudaram entangle Mon3tr. You hear their hollow breathing echo in your ear.
The Nachzehrer warriors are trying to drag all of you into the pit of death.
'Shadows of conflict, yield to conflict.'
Logos!
I've always trusted you.
I know I can count on you.
Don't let your guard down.
I sense turmoil in the fabric of reality. The Feranmut is coming.
I will attempt to create a waypoint to help us board the skeleton.
What should I do?
Jump down from the cliff.
...Alright.
I'm beginning to regret what I just said.
Drive the Feranmut! I'll take care of the Royal Court soldiers!
There is no response. The muddled voice says nothing. Perhaps it just cannot be bothered.
It's not gonna send it inside the barrel of some super-gun, is it?
The intangible tide fades.
Threads of silver-white incantation snag the drifting Feranmut, and several figures fall into the room.
Haha...
We made it.
It takes an explosion to catch the attention of a bomb maniac.
Not bad. You actually made it out of the Confessarii's evil ritual alive.
What's the situation?
Bonesy is fine, as you can see.
Hoederer took a hit from Manfred's sword, but he's still breathing.
As for the others...
I don't see Ascalon anywhere.
We found no trace of Ascalon or Manfred on the skeleton.
She got tangled with Manfred and didn't make it in time when the skeleton took off.
...
We've already drawn too much attention. We need to drift, now.