…
…
…
CLICK!
Late in the evening, under the flickering floodlights of the Xenokuni City Baseball Stadium, Private Magni Dezmond picks the lock of a Pavolian truck sprawled out in the outfield. It is one of the few Pavolian vehicles there that is not completely totaled, so Magni opens the door, steps into the truck cab and rubs his hands in anticipation.
"Alright, come to papa…" Magni muses to himself.
He checks the glove box like it is second nature for him. A Luger pistol, a packet of Fowlboro cigarettes and the truck's keys.
"Oooh, lucky me." Magni smirks.
He pockets the Luger, pops open the Fowlboro packet and lights a cigarette for himself. He savors the flavor of the Pavolian cigarette and puffs leisurely.
"That hit the spot." Magni nods with satisfaction.
Looting the truck, however, isn't his main mission that evening. He crushes his spent cigarette under his boots and then takes the keys from the glove box.
"Leader's gonna be happy with this." Magni comments. He sticks the keys in the ignition and starts the engine.
Or rather, he tries to start the engine.
The engine whirs but sputters violently, preventing it from starting.
"Well, that's not good." Magni frowns.
He hops out of the truck cab and opens up the truck hood. For a while, he looks over the Pavolian engine block and rubs his chin. Eventually, though, his gaze sours and he groans.
"Of course. Would you look at that? Everything's in fucking Pavolian. Who would have guessed, huh?"
While Magni frets over the Pavolian truck engine, a figure approaches him from behind.
"Ayo, whatcha doin here, contraband man?" It asks.
"Eep…!" Magni panics and pulls back and lets go of the truck's hood. It slams down shut.
THUD!
"S-soldier boy?" Magni regards the figure of Axel Syrios. His expression becomes playful, "You weren't planning to attack me from behind were you?"
"Eh? Why the hell would I wanna do that?" Axel raises his brow, "We're on the same team here, my man."
Magni's innuendo flies over Axel's head of fiery hair. The Tempest's loader could only frown with disappointment and sigh.
"Never mind…" Magni lets go.
"But what are you doing here with that Opel Blitz?" Axel asks.
"Opel Blitz?" Magni raises his brow, "The fuck is that?"
"That truck you're fiddlin' with right there." Axel points to the truck. He grins, "You weren't planning on fencing that engine with the smugglers for some big bucks, were you?"
"No I'm not!" Magni denies, "I'm here because our Leader needs a Pavie vehicle for a mission. A runner came by from the Governor's Palace and I took the Leader's note."
"Ah, is that so?" Axel hums, "What's the holdup then?"
Magni heaves a sigh and points to the engine block.
"The truck won't start so I wanted to check the engine. But then everything was in Pavolian so I'm shit out of luck."
"Eh? You work on the Tempest's engine's don't ya?" Axel tests casually, "Shouldn't be that different."
"Easy for you to say…" Magni purses his lips.
"How about I help you out?" Axel offers without hesitation, "Let's take a look at this bad boy and get it right as rain."
"You? Help me?" Magni snickers. He pats the truck's hood, "Are you sure a meathead like you can get anything done on this rig?"
"More than you can, probably. You cheeky cunt!" Axel answers gamely.
"Oho. I like challenges. Bring it on, soldier boy."
"Get ready to eat your words, contraband man!"
With that, Magni and Axel pore over the truck's engine and assess the situation under the floodlights. Despite the Pavolian markings, Axel finds his way through the engine relatively quickly.
"Well, I'll be damned… you know your way around an engine." Magni's jaw drops.
"'Course I do!" Axel boasts, pounding a greasy fist into his chest, "They booked me for Grand Theft Auto back in North Elysium. I set a world record for stolen cars in Penacony, the provincial capital!"
"Oooooh, so you're a thief too." Magni's eyes narrow, "You're only acting straight now."
"This ain't no act. I'm on the straight and narrow path now." Axel counters, "They booked me before, so I'll live by the book from now on. That's why I volunteered for PCAPs - to shorten my sentences."
Magni fidgets and lets his pointer fingers touch, "That… wasn't the straight I was talking about."
Axel just blinks, wondering what Magni was going on about. Unable to find an answer, Axel leans forward and picks apart the truck engine. As he does, he continues his tale.
"But I have stolen my fair share of Opel Blitzes before the war. The better condition they're in, the better price they fetch. And let me tell ya, I've made a pretty penny on these Pavie boxes."
Magni laughs.
"Oh, soldier boy. You are full of surprises." Magni remarks.
Suddenly, Axel pulls his head out of the engine block and extends his hand towards Magni.
"... soldier boy?" Magni asks, blushing.
"Wrench, please." Axel says innocently, "We've gotta take this whole thing out of the block."
Magni pouts, "You tease."
"Eh?" Axel raises his brow.
"Nothing!" Magni snorts.
He gives Axel a wrench and the two of them hoist the Opel Blitz engine out of the block. They set it down on the snowy outfield grass and Axel gives Magni a crash course on the engine's quirks and components.
Magni listens intently and takes down notes. The two of them then take note of the engine's condition and list down components that they need to replace.
"There's a lot of Pavie trucks scattered around here." Axel says with a grin, "We'll find those components easily enough. Lotsa' Opel Blitzes around here."
"Agreed." Magni smiles back, "They're in much worse condition than our bad boy, but we can definitely salvage components from them."
Axel nods. He and Magni then go out to search for more Pavolian trucks.
As the two of them walk, Axel buries his hands in his pockets and turns to Magni.
"I've told ya why I got thrown in the slammer. What's your malfunction, contraband man?"
"Oh, me?" Magni smirks. He holds his head up high and reveals, "I was a Confidence Man. I swindled money from folks who bought my act. I even sold them snake oil too - told them it was a magical potion!"
"Magical potion?" Axel hums, "Hold on. I think I read about something like that. What did you call your shit?"
"Copium." Magni answers proudly.
"That was you!?" Axel gasps, "You're THE Maglord, then. You were public enemy number one of Metro Elysium for a while."
"Hehehe, I am the one and only Magni Dezmond." Magni nods, "People were starting to catch on, though. So, one day, I slipped up intentionally and let the coppers catch me."
"Why? You ran out of ideas?" Axel asks.
"Sort of. And the oil I used was imported from Xenokuni. When this territory fell, I ran out of supply in a heartbeat." Magni shrugs and shakes his head, "I figured that I could hide the money I made somewhere safe and then sit out the rest of the war in the safety of a prison cell."
"That came back to bite you, huh?" Axen chuckles.
"Big time." Magni laughs too, "Not only did I get drafted to serve in a tin can, it put me in a collision course with a walking, talking dingo like you!"
"The displeasure is all mine." Axel winks.
The two men laugh.
Together, they pick apart another Pavolian truck and repair their engine. They set the engine back into their truck. Axel stays outside the cab while Magni starts the engine.
VROOOOOM!
The engine runs smoothly. Axel gives a thumbs up and Magni returns the gesture.
"Maybe you're not as bad as I thought, soldier boy." Magni comments from the cab.
"Right back at ya, contraband man." Axel grins.
…
While Axel and Magni inspect their resuscitated Pavolian truck, Vesper Noir marches towards them with paper envelopes in hand.
"Gramps is here!" Axel cheers. He notices the envelopes and asks, "Whatcha got there, chief?"
"Our promotion papers. They just came in with the last mail run - a week late, as expected." Vesper snorts.
"Promotion papers?" Axel and Magni blink in unison.
Vesper approaches and hands Axel and Magni their envelopes. As he does, he pats their shoulders cheerfully. The two of them carefully open their letters and Vesper reads along with them,
"From this day on, henceforth… Private First Class Axel Syrios - and Private Magni Dezmond - shall serve the Elysian Army Provisional Correctional Armored Companies with the promoted rank of..."
"PFC." Magni reads.
"Corporal." Axel follows, scratching the back of his head shyly, "Golly gee." He turns to Vesper and asks, "What about you, gramps?"
"I'm a Corporal now too." Vesper smiles. He adjusts his glasses, "It's not much, but at least the State recognizes us. Even just a little."
"Finally!" Magni cheers, raising his promotion letter over his head.
"Rumor in the post office is, Lieutenant Kureiji's fighting to get Leader promoted from Sergeant to 2nd LT. He was a Military Academy cadet after all, once upon a time." Vesper relays what he overheard, "Thing is, the Military Academy in Metro Elysium still thinks Leader's treason charges are too heavy to bear for their endorsement."
"That's a load of bullcrap!" Axel sneers, "Leader's out here sticking his neck out with us here on the frontlines."
Magni nods, "He's even at the peace negotiations with the Pavie Colonel right now at the Governor's Palace. Our boy's doing much more work than any Regular Army lieutenant here. He's actually helping end the war."
"It is what it is." Vesper sighs. Then, he rubs his chin and checks his wristwatch, "Speaking of which - I think the radio broadcast of the news conference should be on right about now."
"Oh yeah? What frequency?" Magni asks. He scrambles to the truck cab and mans the radio.
"ECN." Vesper answers, "It's the only outlet covering it in Elysian."
"Gotcha!" Magni gives a thumbs up.
He tunes the truck's radio to the ECN frequency and catches the start of the news conference. Kolonel Moona Hoshinova recites her preamble and, shortly thereafter, technician Flayon X Machina translates it to Elysian for the listeners.
Axel and Vesper huddle close to the truck cab and listen to the conference intently. Moona goes through the terms of her Garrison's surrender and Vesper nods.
"Looks like we're one step closer to a bigger peace treaty with Pavolia. If only the Imperial Court in the Blue Throne would follow suit." Vesper comments, "From what I've heard, aside from a few units, the 101st escaped Xenokuni City with most of its strength intact. As long as they're in the fight, I don't think this war will end."
"It won't take much longer, will it?" Axel asks, "We've retaken Xenokuni City, the great emerald of the Commonwealth."
"We can't let our guards down. The war isn't over yet." Vesper cautions the younger soldier.
"Ehh…? But we gotta celebrate even the smaller victories, though." Magni chimes in, "Progress is progress."
"That's true." Vesper concedes. He folds his arms and rests his back against the truck, "But even after this war ends - and it will end - times will be tough for Elysium, Pavolia and Xenokuni. Elysium will have no more need for our services, so what waits for us back on the Home Continent?"
Axel falls silent.
"I… haven't really thought that far." Axel admits.
"I have." Magni grins. He points to himself and announces proudly, "I'll try to use this promotion and get into the Regular Army after the war. I've already gotten used to the free food and lodging here, so I don't wanna even think about trying to integrate back into broader society just yet."
"Hmm… you have a point there." Axel hums, "I've made a lot of enemies in the Home Continent too, so I might stay on the exclave here - or I might stick with the Army too."
"Oho? We could be battle brothers then!" Magni muses, smiling happily, "There's no one I'd rather be in a foxhole with than you, soldier boy!"
"On second thought, I'll stay in the exclave." Axel snorts.
"Soldier boy…" Magni frowns.
Axel laughs at his expense. He then turns to Vesper, "What about you, gramps? Any plans for when this is all over?"
Vesper pauses and thinks for a while.
"I'd very much like to get back to my university as a professor. But if that doesn't work out… I'd like to explore the South Pole."
"The South freaking Pole?" Axel gasps, "I didn't take you for the adventurous type, gramps."
Vesper smiles and adjusts his glasses.
"Don't judge a book by its cover, son." Vesper advises.
"Point taken, gramps. Point taken." Axel smiles back.
While they're talking, an Elysian Regular Army jeep rolls into the outfield. An officer at the back of the jeep cups her hands over her mouth and starts calling out for volunteers: prison guards and truck drivers for the transfer of Pavolian Prisoners of War.
"Eh… sounds like a hassle." Magni frowns, "Do not want."
"Well, we don't really have any standing orders right now." Vesper hums, "At least I don't." He raises up his hand and answers the officer's call, "I can drive!"
"Will that really be alright?" Axel asks.
"Just tell Leader that I'll be back before nightfall tomorrow." Vesper asks him. He looks up to the stars above Xenokuni City and smiles, "I just suddenly felt like driving through these familiar streets again."
…
…
…
Midnight comes and goes at the outskirts of Xenokuni City like a falling snowflake in the wind.
There, by an Elysian military checkpoint along the frosted Emerald River, the captured assassin Anya Melfissa languishes in a makeshift tent city. Her hands are bound, but there are no other restraints on her. She, and hundreds of captured Pavolian soldiers have been brought in from the Manor House and the other fronts of the raging war.
Anya heard that originally, they were going to be kept in prisons in Xenokuni City. However, after some closed-door negotiations with Kolonel Hosninova, the Elysians changed their plans.
Now, at Moona's request, Anya and her fellow prisoners are bound for the opposite direction: the Elysian exclave at the South-East tip of the Pavolian continent.
They would repeat their journey, but in the opposite direction and then board a train line - one that wasn't damaged by the years of bitter war - to the exclave. Most of the Pavolians grow frustrated by the abrupt about-face, but Anya is placid.
'Don't they know that getting thrown in Xenokunian jail now is practically a death sentence?' Anya grumbles in her mind.
She makes no move to correct her compatriots. Instead, she just waits for the trucks that would take them on their forced journey to arrive.
Sitting on a tree stump, she lays her hands on her knees and looks at the rope that binds her wrist. The rope is bound tight and knotted well, but Anya knows how to wriggle free. Her Specialist training taught her everything she needed to know to escape her captivity.
But Anya sits still, listless.
Her purple eyes watch the stream of Elysian trucks carrying captured Pavolian soldiers out of Xenokuni City en masse. She sees the Starfall Banner flying from the poles of the Governor's Palace in the distance across the Emerald River.
She remembers the speech that Kolonel Moona Hoshinova gave on live radio last evening.
Unconditional surrender.
Something that Anya, from everything that the Zeta Vestia's tutelage taught her, thought was impossible.
Sitting on that stump, she too is stumped. Her rope shackles remain around her wrists, untested. Her once ironclad resolve and devotion for the Empress Reine - her dedication to her mission to destroy the enemy Elysians - starts to rust and corrode.
As Anya ponders, a new fleet of Elysian trucks arrive at the foot of the tent city. Elysian military police start rounding up the Prisoners of War and have them loaded up onto the backs of the trucks.
Anya feels the barrel of a Garand rifle nudging her back, but she doesn't need to be prodded. She boards the back of the truck willingly and without protest.
She takes the seat closest to the truck's cab.
If she wanted to escape, she contemplates, sitting close to the driver would give her many options to do so. She thinks up eleven different ways she could break free and commandeer the truck, but she acts on none of them.
"It would have been so easy too…" Anya snorts.
While she is lost in her own morbid thoughts, though, a strangely familiar voice calls out to her from inside the truck cab.
"Miss Melfissa?" It asks.
Anya looks into the cab and gasps. She recognizes him.
"You're the silver-haired man from the Manor House." Anya speaks in Pavolian.
"That's right. Fancy running into you here." The man confirms, answering in Pavolian as well.
Anya winces. She quietly hoped that Vesper wouldn't understand her.
The driver looks over his shoulder and introduces himself.
"The name's Vesper Noir. Corporal. Elysian Army."
"You were one of my interrogators." Anya adds.
"But now I'm just your driver." Vesper smiles at her.
That's the first time anyone ever smiled at her for a long, long time. It is a genuine smile - natural and soft - not the practiced kind that liars like her practice to perfection.
"I see." is all Anya manages to say.
The petite brunette sits in silence for a while as the Elysian guards prod more Pavolian prisoners into the truck. Anya's eyes meet with Vesper's again in the rear-view mirror.
"We're only going to the train station halfway down the road, but it'll be a long journey nonetheless." Vesper pipes up casually, "We might as well get acquainted. We're gonna have to get used to seeing each other's faces and hearing each other's voices."
"You're not still trying to gather intel from me, are you?" Anya chides.
"No. Of course not." Vesper shakes his head, "You can say as much or as little as you want. All I want is to make sure you and the rest of the POWs make it safely to the station."
"Conversation, then?" Anya tests, "I thought Elysians didn't want to have anything to do with Pavolians - let alone have conversations with them."
"My commanding officer is a Pavolian, but she is one of the finest people that I know. I have the utmost respect for her." Vesper reveals fondly, "My tank's commander has an adopted Pavolian sister back home that he's fighting for to this day."
"You jest." Anya refuses.
"You don't have to believe me. You can also say as much or as little as you want. I'm not forcing you." Vesper shrugs, "I just want you to know that not all Elysians are like that. This world is not black and white, Miss Melfissa."
Anya falls silent again.
"Many people do have prejudice against Pavolians - some more so than others. I won't deny that." Vesper continues, "But you can rest assured that my commander and I are not among them."
Anya lowers her head.
She doesn't remember a time when she had spoken with anyone that much. The only times when people had spoken with her were to give her orders - or to beg for their lives in Elysian or Xenokunian. Always one-sided. Always a demand or a plea.
Having a conversation with an Elysian in her native tongue, curt as it may be, is something that she never thought she would have experienced.
It makes her think of her childhood.
Before the Pavolian Youth swept her up.
Before Zeta Vestia put her under her wing.
Anya tenses up in her seat.
She hates how comforting a real conversation can be.
'I have to keep up my guard.' she thinks.
While Anya steels herself in her silence, the Elysian guards close up the back of the truck and pat the cab thrice. That is Vesper's signal to start driving.
…
Vesper's truck rumbles forward and joins a convoy of trucks passing through the streets of Xenokuni City.
From where Anya sits, she sees the Starfall Banners flying over the Governor's Palace draw closer and closer until they cast their shadows over her.
It makes her stomach turn with disgust, but she holds her tongue.
They pass through the main boulevard of the city still littered with the wrecks of Elysian and Pavolian tanks. Beyond those wrecks, though, Anya sees a myriad of posters for the Pavolian Youth plastered on the walls and fences.
Many of those posters feature a bright eyed and enthusiastically patriotic brunette marching through that very boulevard with great fanfare. All of those posters are faded now, covered in Xenokunian graffiti of some strange puppet saying 'Magmo fue aqui'.
Faded and vandalized as those posters are, though, Anya remembers the scene of those marches with crystal clarity.
After all, she was that brunette youth in the posters.
The truck convoy stops at an Elysian checkpoint and Vesper glances out to those posters.
"Is that you on the posters, Miss Melfissa?" Vesper asks her.
Anya frowns. She does not want to acknowledge it, but dull pangs strike her heart and force her to gulp.
"Yes." Anya ekes out an answer.
"I didn't know you were the poster child for the Pavolian Youth." Vesper comments, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
"Those were simpler times." Anya speaks. She takes a deep breath and loosens her lips, "All I had to do was march in formation, smile for the cameras and 'mirror the glory' of Her Majesty Empress Reine Pavolia. Whatever that meant." She shakes her head and scoffs, "Looking back at it now, it seems so pointless."
Anya's eyes spot a poster with her and two younger girls: another brunette with soft green eyes and an older fair-haired girl. In that scene, Anya is putting on blue berets of the Pavolian Youth on the other brunette while the fair-haired girl crowns Anya with a circlet of white jasmine flowers.
Anya shakes her head.
"Sometimes I wonder - how many of those boys and girls in the posters have already died in this war?"
"Militant youth groups are cut from the same cloth." Vesper answers her. He adjusts his glasses and leans back into his seat, "They pervert beautiful things to suit their needs and their war efforts. Flower crowns and marching batons become berets and rifles." He furrows his brow and spits, "It's disgusting."
Anya hums.
"Indeed. You sound agreeable. For an Elysian."
Vesper smiles in the rear view mirror. Then he asks, "When did those 'simpler times' of yours change, Miss Melfissa?"
Anya lowers her eyes and turns away from the posters on the walls.
"It all changed when I met Lady Vestia. The Gray Baroness."
"Zeta Vestia…?" Vesper whirls around.
"Yes." Anya confirms with a sliver of pride, "Commander of the Pavolian 101st Tank Division. Former owner of that Manor House that your unit shed so much blood to capture."
Vesper's face grows stern.
"Oh. So does that fact rile you up?" Anya challenges with sadistic enthusiasm, "Lady Vestia welcomed me as a HaKugrenadier, but she saw my potential and trained me further. She taught me everything that I know - turned me into who I am."
"That means you're a keris abu-abu. A 'gray dagger'." Vesper notes.
"That's right." Anya confirms, "The best of the best. Are you scared of me now? Do you despise me?"
Vesper shakes his head.
"I'm… sorry that you had to undergo such harsh treatment." Vesper replies instead, "If Zeta Vestia took you under her wing, then I can only imagine the sorts of hardships and pain she put you through. I think I can better understand how you were able to kill so many people… I cannot condone what you've done, but I do pity you."
"Pity me?" Anya furrows her brow, "Why would you pity me, old man?"
"Because that means you had your youth taken from you." Vesper answers with sorrow. He looks Anya in the eye and asks, "Whether or not Pavolia wins the war, what will you be doing when the fighting is over, Miss Melfissa?"
"I will… continue to serve Lady Vestia, of course." Anya speaks, but her conviction sags.
"Even if she no longer has any use for you?" Vesper challenges. His voice is as cold as ice.
Anya slinks back into her seat. That is Vesper's cue to speak.
"Over in Elysium, there's a big debate going on right now. Long story short, our Parliament is asking whether or not we should mobilize our children for war. The draft age goes down to sixteen. Then fourteen. Then twelve. Tell me, Miss Melfissa. How young are the soldiers that the Blue Throne is sending to war now?"
Anya glances at the poster of her placing a beret on the brunette Pavolian Youth girl. For the first time in a long while, she shudders.
"F-fifteen." Anya stammers.
"Fifteen." Vesper's frown deepens. He clenches his fists and roars, "At the rate things are going, by the time this war ends, there'll be nothing left of either of our countries!"
The Pavolian prisoners in the back of the truck turn towards Vesper, surprised by what he is saying. The Elysian guards, on the other hand, scratch their heads, completely unaware.
Anya, on the other hand, is astonished.
In the HaKugrenadiers, speaking out against her country's law and government like that would have earned her a flogging at best or an execution at worst. She imagines that the same is true for the Elysian side, so the fact that Vesper could speak so freely makes her jaw drop.
"Is it… really alright for someone like you to openly dislike your own government?" Anya asks.
Vesper snorts.
"Come to think of it, Miss Melfissa, I might dislike the Elysian government just as much as you do. I don't plan to kill them or start an uprising or anything - but you get what I mean."
"If that's the case, then why do you fight for that government that you hate?" Anya asks.
"I fight because my desire for peace and life is greater than my distrust for my government."
"Mr. Noir…"
"I don't know what the future will hold for me, Miss Melfissa, but I do know one thing for sure. Once this war is over and I have paid my dues to Elysium, I will not hold, touch or fire a gun again. But until then, I will fight. I will drive."
Anya sinks into her seat. Her head is filled with things that she has never thought about before. Working from behind a gun or a knife is all she knows. Just about every child on those Pavolian Youth posters probably think the same - if the war hasn't claimed their lives yet.
While Anya is thinking, a group of pedestrians pass by the Elysian Army checkpoint at the boulevard. There were three of them: a fiery-haired Xenokunian lady and two younger Pavolians - probably under her custody. Anya sees them in the corner of her eye and pays them no heed at first.
But then, she notices a head of fair-colored hair and a brunette wearing the same blue Pavolian Youth beret as the ones in the poster.
Anya stands up from her seat and pokes her head out from the wooden barriers of the truck. The names of those two escape her lips.
"Y-yopi? Risu?"
The pedestrians continue on but draw closer, passing the truck by. So, Anya bangs on the wooden barriers and cries at the top of her lungs, "YOPI! RISU!"
One of the Elysian guards snarls, gripping his Garand rifle "Oy, this girlie's tryna' escape! She's callin her accomplices!"
Another Elysian guard hops out of the back of the truck and brandishes his own rifle at the pedestrians.
Vesper cranks the truck gears to 'park' and roars, "GUARDS! Stand down."
The two guards, the pedestrians and Anya herself turn to Vesper. They wait for him to speak.
"They're acquaintances. Let them speak." Vesper declares.
"Our orders are to not let anyone get close to the POW trucks, old man." The guard argues.
"And my orders are to let them through." Vesper counters without hesitation, "In case you've forgotten, I outrank the both of you. Privates."
The two guards freeze where they stand. Vesper then gestures to the pedestrians to come on over.
The brunette with the blue beret and the fair-haired ex-Garrison soldier come up to the side of the truck and gasp.
"... Anya!?" They cry.
All of a sudden, tears start to well at the sides of Anya's eyes. Cracks form slowly on her cold and calculating visage, ground down by all of the tears she had been holding back for years on end.
Pain. Fear. Anger. Joy.
All of them come to the fore at once.
Anya clutches onto the wooden barriers and weeps. Then, she wears a genuine, albeit tearful smile.
"I thought… I thought the two of you were gone!" Anya says.
The pedestrians, Iofi and Risu, reach for Anya's fingers through the gaps of the wood. Their fingertips touch. Anya's tears flow freely.
And so, through the barriers of the truck, Iofi and Risu speak with Anya. All the while, Iofi's and Risu's guardian looks on.
She approaches the truck cab and smiles at Vesper.
"You're a good man, señor Noir." she says.
"You give me too much praise, Miss Fénix." Vesper adjusts his glasses, "I'm just doing what I hope others would do for me."
Fenix nods. Then, she and Vesper look on as the three girls in the Pavolian Youth recruitment posters reunite once more.
…
…
…
Later that day, as night falls over Xenokuni City, Friar Hakka Banzoin leaves the great Tri-Spirit Cathedral. He wears a sack-cloth hood over his head that casts a shadow over his face and draws a veil of darkness.
He walks slowly along the banks of the Emerald River under the falling snow. His mouth mutters prayers and benedictions to the Holy Mothers, but his voice trembles.
'Diosas mías, escúchame. Diosas mías, perdóname. Diosas mías, sálvame.'
His hands holding his prayer beads rattle too. His mind is clouded by the sharp gaze of Kaela Kovalskia burned into his memory. His heart aches as he begs the Holy Mothers for their intercession.
'¡Sálvame de los caprichos de la demonia rubia!'
Only the wintry winds and the murmur of the Emerald River answer him. He raises up his hands and laments bitterly.
'¿Por qué no me hablas? ¡Mis diosas!'
Again, silence.
Hakka lowers his head. On the waters of the Emerald River, he sees the reflection of the Governor's Palace and the full moon hanging over the stars. Their radiance illuminates the rings under his eyes and the frown on his lips.
His light purple eyes, in particular, look dejectedly upon the moon.
"There's no turning back for me now." he whispers beneath his breath.
He buries his hands and his prayer beads in the pockets of his habit and continues to walk towards the Governor's Palace.
…
…
…
TEMPEST
…