She was no longer kneeling under the blindingly bright sun, in the midst of a field of mud. But the imaginary gunshots—

No, not imaginary, they were real, a hundred percent fucking real, fired into a pit full of stubborn, scared people. As she looked up, still panting heavily, the horrible sounds, mingled with screams and dying gasps, were still echoing in her ears.

A gate. A road. They were back at Ryll's Basilicom now, under the dusky sky. The back of Ryll's vest appeared at the edge of her vision, besides the gate, just as Blanc got up and wiped away the tears on her cheeks.

"You," she muttered. "You just stood there and let them, you..."

Her sentence ended in a half-choking noise. Maybe her screaming fit had exhausted all the anger in her. Maybe it was pity that stopped her from cursing out Ryll further, even though a less forgiving voice in her head was shrieking how could you, how could you, she deserves all the blame for being such a spineless Goddess and doing nothing.

Right now, Ryll looked more lifeless than ever. Creepy, how her body could go so perfectly still for what seemed like hours on end, until the rumbles of a car engine cut through the silence.

Blanc clenched her fists together when she saw the "LS" crest, engraved into the side of the black limousine. Her feelings regarding Ryll might be a total clusterfuck right now, but if there was one person whom she could blame, without any hesitation, it had to be the woman sitting in that car.

"After everything," She gritted her teeth, as she circled to Ryll's side, "If you're gonna run up to that bitch and be all chummy with her again, I swear, I'm..."

Her fists unclenched again. I'm not able to do anything. I can't do a damn thing to you, or to that bitch. You are dead and maybe she is, too, in your dimension. Who knows how much time has passed since then.

Right now, she just wanted proof, proof that her seething rage towards Elizabeth was shared by the girl, however well-hidden it was. Even though there was nothing but painful hope in Ryll's eyes, as the car door slid open.

That hope was soon replaced by confusion, with a hint of dread.

Blanc eyed the older man in business attire, and the soldiers in grey that flanked him. She was sure she hadn't seen them before, but when the car door slammed shut, and the vehicle drove away, it became obvious that they were the only passengers.

Good. Maybe Elizabeth's fellow citizens had finally seen her for the ruthless bastard she was, and given her some kind of fitting punishment, and Ryll could be free of her twisted ideas for the future to come.

That thought brought a small smile to her face, until she remembered that their future was already the past, and even if Elizabeth was no longer there, something else must've gone horribly wrong in order for Ryll to...end up here.

"Greetings." The man stepped forward, and extended a hand towards Ryll. It took her a while to recognize that he was expecting her to shake his hand.

"Um. Hello." Ryll was shaking a little, as she met his glance. "If, if you don't mind me asking, where is my Oracle?"

"Oh for the love of—!" Blanc groaned.

"I think that would be me, for the time being." The man adjusted his neatly ironed tie. "No worries, Miss Elizabeth is perfectly fine and still hard at work, back in Lastation City. There has just been a slight, how should I put it, policy change."

Blanc had no idea what he was referring to. Hopefully, that meant Elizabeth wasn't coming back.

Ryll didn't take the news well, however. She narrowed her eyes, and took a step backwards. "Policy change? There hasn't been a Council meeting."

"Oh, I suppose you aren't very well-versed in the laws, which, to be honest, few are!" He let out a laugh at his own joke. "But one of the founding principles of the Coalition is the autonomy of its component states. All matters not included in the official treaty are left to the state's own jurisdiction, and do not require a Council meeting. Like the selection and change of individual representatives."

"...Why?" Ryll asked, then hastily added, "I mean, has she made a mistake? She has been nothing but dutiful and kind, and I wouldn't have won—"

"Dutiful and kind?!" Blanc exclaimed.

"No, definitely not! Miss Elizabeth is an excellent diplomat," The man shook his head, "Because of her ability to recognize her own limits, and that her perspective, however valuable it is, cannot encompass the multiple interests within the city. Lastation City is much more diverse and lively than you could have imagined, being the greatest industrial and trading center of the east, though its riches also bring certain...complications."

A brief trace of contempt flashed across his face. "I hope your participation in the wipe-up operation hasn't soured your opinion of our people as a whole. Most of the new recruits were cantankerous low-lifes who howled at the first chance of a fight, then turned back to blame the sensible folks upstairs when their own stupidity caught up to them."

"Uh, okay," Ryll looked like she couldn't decide between a frown, a poker face, or a polite smile, as she turned towards the Basilicom building. "Let's talk on our way inside?"

"Of course! Back to what I was saying," The man hurried to her side, and signaled for his entourage to follow, "Miss Elizabeth speaks for the interest of a sizeable number of our people—an admirable, if unpleasant task, considering how distasteful and ignorant most of these citizens are."

He took a deep breath, "But other groups within the city need to have their voice heard, too, and it is her recommendation that allows the governing body's final selection to be set in stone. A less intelligent, more selfish person would have made the whole process a lot harder, that was for sure..."

Suddenly, Blanc didn't feel as relieved as before, when she first saw the car's passengers.

This man's demeanor was much more grating, with his motormouth tendencies and the disdain he didn't even bother to hide. Compared to Elizabeth's eerie calmness and the sickeningly gentle way she twisted her words, that might or might not be a good thing.

"—as such, Lastation City demands immediate compensation for our support."

Whatever statement the man had made prior to this one, the rest of the Oracles weren't taking it too well. The way they were staring at each other was more awkward and almost fearful, instead of outraged, but soon, one of them slammed his palms onto the table.

"Excuse me, Mr. Avenir?" The old man—no, General Matsushita stared at him. Blanc hadn't seen these people in the memory fragments for so long, she was having trouble remembering their names. "We have handed that murderer to you, and done Lastation City a great favor, and you see it fit to act like mercenaries demanding extra shares of the spoil at this crucial moment?"

"With our help. Please do not dismiss the vital role of Lastation's assistance in the Tari campaign." The new representative—Mr. Avenir made a dismissive wave. "We practically caught our own citizens' murderer, yet we were kind enough to not charge you back then. But then you asked for our help, again, and told us the campaign on that backwater island would be over just as quickly."

"It was relatively quick! Our original plan would require two more months—"

"Quick, at a cost of what? A cost that isn't yours, I'd wager." He interrupted General Matsushita's speech.

The old man, face red with rage, looked like a piece of dry wood that was about to spontaneously combust. "How dare you downplay our soldiers' valiant efforts! Your regiments didn't even reach a tenth of the total landing forces, and now you are painting yourselves as our savior?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not implying that the Coalition's soldiers made no efforts at all." Mr. Avenir gave him an apologetic look, though his tone was anything but sincere. "But if our elite forces didn't wipe out the most stubborn fanatics guarding their Sharecite, it would really take you two more months of fighting and a much higher body count. If your CPU didn't die fighting theirs, that is."

This time, Ryll didn't flinch when she heard these words. There was a vacant, almost confused look in her eyes, as if she wasn't quite inside her own body. Miss Goldstar must've noticed it, and immediately raised her hand.

"Can we stop arguing over hypotheticals, and get back to the real issue at hand?" She didn't wait for either of them to answer. "Yes, we might have overestimated the length of the campaign, but that was no excuse for you to act like we'd purposefully lied to you, and Lastation City wouldn't join the battle otherwise. From what I know, there has been widespread popular support for the campaign, when Miss Elizabeth first communicated the proposal to your citizens."

"Citizens?" Mr. Avenir looked like he had just swallowed a fly. "Ah, you'd seen the whole 'opening the channel' nonsense, hadn't you?"

"I wouldn't be so dismissive of that popular protest's validity," Miss Goldstar retorted. "For all we knew, we heard your citizens' grievances, and worked hard to alleviate them—"

"These are no citizens. Just the loudest and most ignorant thugs amongst the criminal cultures of our docks and fisheries, who thought that a new, shorter trade route through the channel would somehow benefit them, and give them the riches they need to elevate themselves into polite society!" Mr. Avenir snorted. "Their sorry conditions can only be blamed on their own sloth and rebellious plotting, and now they dare to protest that hardworking businessmen like us are monopolizing trade and cutting off their livelihood."

...Okay. This guy was definitely a worse Oracle than Elizabeth. At least she wasn't openly talking trash about the people she was supposed to represent, which was a pretty friggin' low bar already.

"The fact that Lastation City has survived and thrived just alright using the longer trade routes has, unfortunately, skipped their mind. Now that Shin-Nikin is no more, the less fanatical folks who still wanted to save their own skin took off for our coasts, as bands of raiders and pirates, and guess who had to protect these low-lifes against the pillaging outlaws? Us!"

His outraged cry failed to earn much sympathy from Ryll and his fellow Oracles. Their frowns and grim scowls seemed to blend together into a seamless picture of unease, as darkness swallowed up their faces.

Ryll was staring at the black-and-white television screen. So was Blanc, though she had a feeling that the girl wasn't seeing any of the motions on screen, and was zoning out again. A good thing, really, because this was one of the most frustratingly awful shows she had watched. What was she even expecting from a title like "Lowiian Plumbers Don't Wear Hats"?

In an attempt to distract herself from the painful blur of bad acting that was transpiring on the CRT screen, she started glancing around the room in this memory fragment. Apart from the movie posters and piles of cassette tapes, the entire bedroom looked...normal, if a little old-schooled and plain. Like a regular kid's.

Except its owner wasn't, and would never be. A regular girl wouldn't be pushed onto the battlefield and carry the hope of an entire nation on her shoulders, unlike her. Unlike them.

She had been in the same place before, hadn't she? But she pushed through and won the big fights, despite how scared she was, and the smiles of her friends and people made it all worthwhile in the end. Not for Ryll, whose determination led her onto that island, and into this room, and if her hope and efforts were all for naught, what about—

"Oh my gosh, would something just HAPPEN already?!" Blanc slapped her forehead, hard. "At least...play a better show, for heaven's sake!"

The show kept playing, in all of its awkward, incoherent glory, but seconds later, there was a light knock on the door. Ryll didn't seem to hear it, her sight still glued to the screen.

Another knock. Then another. After a brief silence, the door was pushed open, revealing the last person she wanted to see in these memory fragments.

"...Not you, goddammit," Blanc muttered sullenly, as Elizabeth made her way across the room. Ryll didn't turn to look at her, but she did reach out to switch off the television when the woman's shadow fell over her. The silence between them was so thick, it could be cut with a knife.

Finally, Ryll spoke up in a quiet, carefully neutral tone, as if reading off a list. "You are back."

She still looked dead inside when Elizabeth knelt down besides her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. But cracks soon formed on the emotionless mask that was her face, as she was gradually pulled into a tight hug. Before long, she was shaking with sobs.

...Hell, when would this evil bitch stop playing the gentle big sister and being so convincing at it? Or worse, believing herself to be one? The second possibility just oozed an even more chilling wrongness that make Blanc's skin crawl.

"And I have good news and bad news. What do you want to hear first?"

"The good news."

"Well, like you said, I'm back." Elizabeth let out a small chuckle. "The bad news is, not for long."

Ryll suddenly tightened her grip on the woman's jacket. "Why? Are they..."

"They are not firing me, no." A grimness crawled into her next sentence. "They just want a...third perspective, an impartial observer who can update them on the performance of their new representative."

"Mr. Avenir." Blanc was actually hearing anger in Ryll's voice now. "He's awful."

"I know. Heard recordings of his wonderful tirades on my way here."

"If you tell the Lastation City folks about it, would they fire him and let you come back?"

Ryll's question was met with a long silence, followed by a quiet sigh. "No, I'm afraid."

"But why?" Ryll pulled away from her, and was now frowning. "He, he had done nothing but stirring up arguments with the other Oracles, and acting like a...stuck-up prick! If they know just how bad he is at his job, they won't sit there and do nothing, right?"

Elizabeth looked away, clutching her scarf so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. When she started speaking again, there was pain in her voice. "Believe me, they will. And the more I see, the more convinced I am that nothing I send back to them will change their mind. Do you remember what he said about representing the different interests of the people?"

"...Yes?"

"The people of Lastation City are good, hardworking folks, who endure the grime and salt of the sea and the harsh training of the militia camps, just so their city can survive and thrive. A little hardened and no-nonsense, sure, but the pride towards their work is real." A sigh. "But, despite all the money that flows in and out of the city, not everyone can get an equal share, and slowly, the smart people who own all the big businesses start to gain the upper hand."

"These are the same people who sit on the city's governing board, whose interests are starting to clash with the folks I know and love so much," Elizabeth closed her eyes, "I hate to say this, but what Mr. Avenir is pushing for is exactly the kind of policies my superiors have been urging for me to bring up in the Council meetings. I did, but tried to soften the blows when I could."

"You did?"

"Most were turned down, as they should be. Because of that, they thought I wasn't pushing hard enough, and were already unhappy about my sympathy towards the workers and common folks." Elizabeth's voice turned cold again. "When they decided to swap out representatives, they asked for my recommendation. Ha. Like I actually had a choice. If it wasn't Mr. Avenir, it would be another hardliner, and he was the lesser of several evils, so to speak."

That vacant look returned to Ryll's eyes again. "What could you do now? To stop it from getting worse? The others had already agreed to some of his demands, but I don't think he's done yet."

"Not much. Be the impartial reporter they want me to be, I suppose," A pause, "Since, if I say anything too negative about the new representative, they'd just bring up the fact that I 'recommended' him, and use it to discredit me further. Even though they'd probably think his strategy was working, after hearing my reports. And that isn't even the worst part."

"Then what is?"

"I..." Elizabeth shook her head. "Forget it. I don't want you losing sleep over baseless rumors. There are a lot of them floating around nowadays. Though, with this one..."

"Please. I need to know. I want to know."

"...Planeptune."

"What?"

"Their agents might have entered Lastation City." Elizabeth was visibly tense, as she continued to speak, "Again, rumors, snippets of private conversations no one would dare repeating in public, take it with a grain of salt. But, knowing Venus, they were probably instructed to approach the most influential members of the city's governing body, and give them an offer: should the Coalition's treatment of the city proved lacking, Planeptune would make a much better protector and overseer."

The last sentence broke Ryll out of the trance she seemed to be slipping into. "No! They can't possibly agree to it, handing their city to a tyrant like her!"

"I want to believe in that, too. I hope, with every fiber of my being, that these are just fancy tales cooked up by paranoid theorists," Elizabeth said. "But we have to be prepared for the worst case scenario. Lastation City has never been exposed to the brunt of Planeptune's eastward conquests, nor excluded them from the list of trading partners, and...with one moment of folly, it would be our worst nightmare come true."

She buried her face in her palms, before letting out a deep sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought I was making up for my failings, when I brought Lastation City into the Coalition. I never knew it would become a festering tumor, threatening to tear Mr. Hawkens' greatest achievements apart from the seams. Guess I've failed him again."

"No! It, it," Ryll stuttered, "Isn't your fault. Please don't blame yourself for it. The only one at fault here is Venus! And people like Mr. Avenir!"

"Right. If only there wasn't a Planeptune, or Lowee, or conniving tyrants and power struggles." A pause. "If only."

"One last thing." Mr. Avenir pointed to the red dots on the map. "We want the administrative rights over these mines."

This time, there was a wave of gasps, followed by fierce protests that all blurred together in a sea of noise.

"What is this behavior?" He frowned at the commotion. "You said it yourself. You were busy paying the bills for your own militias, and had no cash at hand. I can understand that. But you still have plenty of resources, and these settlements were practically half-Lastation citizens in composition. It would be a smooth transition of power."

"I," Sanyo, who raised his hand first, squeezed the words out through gritted teeth, "Have never seen a demand that violates Mr. Hawkens' ideals to such a horrendous degree! No members of the Coalition should ever jeopardize the interest of other components for their own gain—"

"No members of the Coalition is responsible for manufacturing over fifty percent of its military equipment, except for Lastation City." It never failed to amaze Blanc, how the smugness in this guy's voice never bled into his facial expressions. "With the total value of the raw materials extracted from these mines, Lastation City would, at last, be fairly compensated for its contribution."

"Total horseshit, that's what it is!" General Matsushita stood up from his chair. "Stop acting like Lastation City is the sole reason for the Coalition's victory! You are just looking for an excuse to fill your own wallets, while disrespecting the collective efforts of our soldiers. My settlement will not yield any further on this matter!"

"Indeed, we aren't the sole reason for victory, but we are the only city who can pay our soldiers after the war, instead of making grand promises we couldn't keep and bankrupting ourselves in an attempt to fulfill it."

These words hit a nerve. Not in the "making everyone foaming at the mouth with rage" way; the other Oracles looked like they were rightfully insulted by his attitude, but also knew that statement was true to some degree, if their hushed whispers and minced lips were any indications.

"We are only demanding such a heavy compensation, because we have been carrying the entire Coalition's burdens for too long," Mr. Avenir continued, "And if you are so hesitant to give up your mines—which aren't even run properly, perhaps you would like Lastation City to raise the tariff on all imports from Coalition-affiliated settlements, as an alternative?"

Saying his proposal had stirred up the hornet's nest would be an understatement. Now his peers truly looked like they were going to be foaming at the mouth, and the meeting room quickly devolved into a chaotic mix of angry screams and protests.

"I am no disciple of Mr. Hawkens, but this is over the line." Miss Goldstar's voice rang loud and clear, amongst the crowd. "You cannot coerce us into submission. A compromise can be reached, if you do not repeat the same behavior again, and are willing to listen to reason."

"I'm sorry you are taking it as a threat. We are just sick of compromises, and want a firmer answer to our demands," Mr. Avenir said. Gosh, was this guy talented at phrasing his "apologies" in the most shitty ways. "In fact, my fellow governors are beginning to think that the Coalition itself is built on compromises and empty visions, instead of concrete benefit and protection for its components—"

"—And are looking for alternatives?"

Blanc turned back, with great surprise, towards the speaker. Ryll had been sitting there like a statue for so long—no doubt falling into the same catatonic despair that had been swallowing up all the emotions in her—she didn't even notice her presence in this memory fragment. Right now, she was anything but emotionless, with her fists clenched and eyes narrowed.

What shocked her, however, was the burst of white light that followed.

"You will not blackmail the Council again." Her HDD Form stared straight into Mr. Avenir's eyes. "Go on. Make another threat. See where that get you."

"...I'm going to pretend I haven't heard that," He stiffened up, and turned to the rest of the Oracles, their mouths still agape in bewilderment, "Because the Coalition's Goddess seems to have made that statement without consulting the rest of the Council—"

"Now you care about the Council? And its principles?" She was still talking in a monotone, but the cold anger in her words was as clear as day. "No. We do not serve selfish opportunists. Bring up that demand again, and not only will we reject it, we will take away all of your previous privileges. By force."

"Y-You can't be serious."

"I am."

For the first time, Mr. Avenir was at a loss for words, as he frantically scanned the faces of his fellow Oracles, none of which met his stare. Finally, he shook his head.

"Not lording her will over the people, indeed. This has been an eye-opening experience, but I suppose there is no point in further negotiations." He made a beeline for the door, but stopped right in front of it and gazed towards Ryll.

"One last bit of advice. Lastation City would be a fearful force on the wrong side. Planeptune is just looking for a reason to take their armies into the east, should you decide to carry out your threat, and the Tyranny of Purple hasn't had a new challenger in decades. I truly wish you will not have to face that monstrosity of a Goddess."

The door soon slammed shut behind him, and a grim silence fell over the room. Even after she reverted to human form, the Oracles did not speak up, until Miss Goldstar stepped forward.

"I...understand your anger. But that is not a proper way to deal with the problem at hand."

"What IS, then?" General Matsushita glared at her. "She just said everything we wanted to say to that treacherous bastard! You heard his threats! Do you think a peaceful solution is still on the table at this point?"

"We?" Another man exclaimed. "Our settlement is already bleeding dry from the war debts! The last thing we need is for our Goddess to drag us into a second war, without the Council's approval!"

"So you'd rather choose cowardice?"

"No, I'm just being pragmatic—" His sentence was cut off by another wave of outraged cries, as the room devolved into complete chaos.

"Her action has violated the very founding principles of the Coalition!"

"Good! If the Coalition keeps bowing to arrogant blackmailers like these, there won't be any principles left to violate."

"We need more forceful—"

"Mr. Hawkens would never agree to this!"

"What's done is done, can we focus on—"

One by one, the quarreling mass faded into the darkness, leaving only Ryll at the midst of it all. As she glanced into Blanc's eyes, she felt a shiver crawling up her spine. It wasn't the familiar despair and fear in those eyes that got her.

No, it was a feeling of cold, bitter isolation. From someone who truly had no one left to depend on.

"If only..." Her lips moved, but the sound didn't seem to come out of her mouth, and was almost like a disembodied echo. "There isn't a Planeptune."