Bianca sits dazed on the platform seat, an elegant electronic female voice chiming rhythmically in her ears.
It's been raining around the platform recently. Please mind your step. Welcome to the Copperfield Aquarium.
The broadcast plays smoothly, delivering the welcome message along with a notice that seems oddly out of place.
Rain starts falling out of nowhere within the enclosed space; everything before her blurs into the downpour.
The fine, misty raindrops fall, tracing a cold, stinging path down Bianca's skin.
...
I'm sorry, Bianca.
Suddenly, the rain seems to split open, and a figure materializes at Bianca's side, holding an umbrella over her.
...Chiko?
With a visible effort, Bianca slowly lifts her head, the name barely a whisper as she gazes at the figure.
This is the last gift I can give you.
Gift...
As if on cue, a sudden gust of wind whips around them, and even the rain seems to hang suspended in the air for a moment.
A train glides to a stop at the platform. Bianca turns her bewildered gaze toward it.
What is... that?
She squints, trying to make sense of the scene, but no matter how hard she strains, it remains a blur.
The platform lights flicker out unnoticed, plunging the distance into pitch blackness. Wind and rain howl through the station, making even the steel-reinforced train shudder violently.
If you could choose, would you rather be a witch or a Holy Maiden?
A witch... or a Holy Maiden...
Her jumbled thoughts slowly untangle, though she's still miles from grasping it all. Bianca mumbles the question again, almost without realizing it.
Yeah... if you actually got to choose...
What kind of person do you want to be, Bianca?
Chiko hands Bianca the umbrella handle, then turns to leave.
...Chiko! Where are you going?
Me? I will be staying right here.
Chiko turns around, and Bianca finally sees her clearly—she's standing dead center on the platform, where the torrential rain collects at her feet, turning into a blinding, deep crimson.
This is my final stop, Bianca.
But you—you've got to go. You need to get out of this place. Whatever you choose, becoming a witch or a Holy Maiden, it's all good.
HOOONK—!
The train lets out a timely whistle as light overflows from its body and the engine roars to life.
No... wait, Chiko, wait!
Bianca seems to have snapped back to reality, yet she's still drowning in chaos.
She shouts out, her mouth wide open. She tries to run toward Chiko, but the instant she steps into the curtain of rain, she freezes, her body no longer responding to her will.
...Go, Bianca.
A blinding light flashes from the horizon, and Bianca's eyes snap shut.
The rain suddenly surges onto the platform, swallowing the station whole. The scarlet crystals let out a mournful cry before disappearing behind the curtain of rain.
Ugh...
...I...
New frame... is...
Before she can finish the question, the intense light blinks out, plunging everything into pitch black.
She's swallowed whole by absolute desolation.
Ugh...
Rushing water roars around her as tiny bubbles solidify into a screeching death knell outside her eardrums. An oppressive sensation, tinged with the metallic tang of vital fluid, crashes into her senses—
Bianca gasps for air as her frame slowly kicks back to life.
This place is...
Ghostly blue water patterns flicker slowly around her. As far as her eyes can see, there's nothing but seawater and ruins.
New frame... transport pod...
Even though she's not quite all there, she's already instinctively following orders from that familiar voice.
Following the rope firmly secured to her body, Bianca feels her way toward the new frame transport pod strapped to her side.
Verify...
Retinal scan complete. Bianca, Captain of the Purifying Force. Identity confirmed.
Underwater, gears slowly turn as the transport pod doors inch open on both sides.
This is...
She's seen this frame before—when the Science Council first started developing it.
When the Science Council members discussed the frame's appearance with her, her gaze unconsciously drifted toward white...
If... you could choose...
Would you rather be a witch... or a Holy Maiden?
If I were to choose... <phonetic=Bianca>I</phonetic>... Would I want to become a Holy Maiden, or a witch?
Witch...
The coating, which was only a temporary fix to stabilize her M.I.N.D., has long since been eaten away by the Red Tide. Her Stigmata frame, stripped bare, now drifts in the empty depths of the ocean floor.
Should <phonetic=Bianca>I</phonetic>... become... a "witch"?
I can't believe a church raised a nun like that, no, more like a "witch"...
That woman is a witch! She killed Toby!
The Punishing corruption triggers violent tremors in her M.I.N.D., countless voices echoing in her ears.
Am <phonetic=Bianca>I</phonetic>... truly a "witch"?
Patches of coating still cling to her frame, a stark reminder of the terror that haunts her: the dread of being branded a "patricide."
Am <phonetic=Bianca>I</phonetic>... supposed to become a "Holy Maiden"?
Soon, you'll be the same as those Constructs you've "cleaned up."
I-it's the Purifying Force! Those devils!
Her hands are stained with the blood of both the innocent and the guilty. Can she still become a Holy Maiden?
If... you could choose...
If... <phonetic=Bianca>I</phonetic>... were to choose...
All the infamy from those false accusations, every mistake she has made, the defectors and Corrupted she has had to kill in the Purifying Force, and the humans and soldiers she has managed to save...
I... am...
The world's never been just black and white.
The labels "Holy Maiden" and "witch" were forced upon her. She couldn't shake them off, nor did she feel she had the right.
She's grown used to being seen as a lamb, shaped by others, and saddled with all sorts of alienating titles.
But now...
The power to choose gently falls into her hands—
Following the secure lifeline given by the Gray Raven Commandant.
<phonetic=Bianca>I</phonetic> won't accept crimes that aren't mine, nor will I deny the "sins" I've committed.
<phonetic=Bianca>I</phonetic> am black, and also white—
<phonetic=Bianca>I</phonetic> shouldn't be defined by anyone else.
Whether it's hatred or gratitude, sorrow or joy, the cacophony of whispers stays sealed behind the curtain of water.
<phonetic=Bianca>I</phonetic> am a Holy Maiden, and also a witch.
Light and shadow, they dance together, two sides of the same coin. <phonetic=Bianca>I</phonetic> wield the power to bend them to my will, and so I must.
In the seawater, she opens her eyes.
