<i>"The world will be made new. It reeks of death. Yet without death, nothing new can be born."</i>
What else? Who... else?
Having mended the one Lucia destined for happiness, Alpha raises her eyes once more to the Phylotree, the lamb beside her.
Her left eye has contracted into a ring, gold and crimson encircling black, a black hole poised to consume all.
She understands now that this
Whose misery can I take on next?
Several scarred hands reach out from beneath the tree, pleading for help, yet pushing her away all the same.
Alpha takes every last one of them.
Don't be afraid. I'll take it all.
She will set everything right, and bear every last shred of suffering and misery.
She cuts through the fog, arriving at the moment each person faces an impossible choice.
The first, naturally, is Luna, the one she can never let go.
In that unnameable tunnel paved with stars, a girl chews on a creeping unease.
She tastes, over and over, the despair of fruitless effort. She treads, over and over, a road paved with hatred, pouring everything she has into doing something for this world.
No one stands beside her. And in the end, she achieves nothing.
Until exhaustion overtakes her, and she drifts back without thinking to the evening of January 5th, 2161—sixteen days after the Punishing Virus outbreak—wandering streets not yet touched, not yet fallen.
...
She dials home, pressing the receiver tight against her ear, desperate to catch every syllable her mother speaks.
They barely exchange a few words before their borrowed happiness is about to expire.
Goodnight, get some rest.
Her mother speaks a few soft, caring words to the "stranger" on the line, then ends Luna's call.
......
She sets down the receiver and closes her eyes, holding the sorrow in.
I should go.
Everything around her begins to dissolve.
Brrrring—
But the payphone erupts with a piercing ring, chime after chime, calling out to a Luna lost in sorrow.
!
Even as her body dissolves, dragged backward by the pull of the universe, Luna strains to reach out and grasp the receiver.
She picks up as if in desperate prayer.
Hello... hello?
The person on the other end simply draws a breath, just like any human would, and before she can even speak, Luna knows exactly who it is.
...Sis.
She never means to cry at all, but the moment she hears her sister's voice, a sob escapes her before she can stop it. Her regret, hurt, and grief flood the cramped phone booth all at once.
It's okay, Luna. I'm right here.
Alpha's voice feels like a soft hand running down Luna's back, one soothing stroke, then another.
Do you remember... a long time ago, when we went hunting geese together?
Sob... I do.
Think back. What did I tell you then?
...You said... if we wanted to survive... we'd have to give up something else... That it was the law of conservation...
That's right. I'm glad you remembered it all.
Through the slight distortion of the line, Alpha's voice sounds lighter than it ever has before.
Happiness and misery rest on the same scale. There must be a balance.
I'm going to be the other side of that scale now. I'll hold the line there... so the rest of you can keep moving forward.
No... Are you going to hang up too?
I won't. But you need to be the one who hangs up and keeps going.
I need you to remember this. Someday, in the "future," I'm going to contain the Fog and use my power to disrupt the Ascension-Network.
It might not be too long before that day comes. You'll know when it does.
What you do then is entirely up to you. If you want to take the Ascension-Network for yourself, I'll be there for you.
I want you to believe...
On the other end, Alpha presses herself closer to the receiver too.
Everything that has happened in this phone booth is real.
And that... I'm where you belong.
Anyone in this world might stop answering your calls... But I will always be there to catch you.
Whenever you need me, just call. I'll always answer.
...
Did you get all that, Luna?
...I'll remember, Sis. I promise.
Something clicks for Luna. Slowly, deliberately, she sets the receiver back in place and ends the call herself.
She knows now that she will never need to cry again.
On the other end, Alpha listens to the hollow dial tone and allows herself a faint, relieved smile beneath the tree.
With one precious weight settled back into her heart, she can finally move forward, untroubled by the ever-heavier burden on her shoulders.
She simply parts the "fog" before her, intent on reaching the next soul lost in an arduous journey.
But then she spots an unexpected figure. A man, somehow familiar.
Instinctively, she remembers the dandelion seeds he once gave her. Yet she also remembers that down another path, countless miseries were his doing.
A complicated man, nearing his end.
After a moment's thought, she steps into Vonnegut's pain all the same.
The house exudes a vintage charm, with daily necessities scattered about. A thin layer of dust blankets the corners, contrasting with the pristine gleam of frequently visited spaces.
...
Lucia.
The man on the sofa doesn't put down what he's holding. He just glances up idly, as if he's not at all surprised.
But Alpha notices: the moment he sees her, something flickers almost imperceptibly at the corner of Vonnegut's eyes.
Was that Nemo in your mind calling out to me?
Perhaps. I often can't tell who I am anymore.
Is this what you were aiming for back then?
All I ever wanted was death.
...Who was the last person here talking to you before me?
There was no "last." Only "final." The final person to speak with me here will be the Gray Raven Commandant, who wakes up on that bed behind you seven days from now.
Vonnegut stresses the word "final" with unmistakable weight, and Alpha catches it at once.
She stops indulging a dying man in pleasantries and turns to look toward the bed.
...
On the bed lies a human, unconscious from injury. It's an open wound across the abdomen, raw and gruesome to behold.
She frowns, then turns and seats herself on the soft edge of the bed with the lightest, slowest of movements.
I see you've learned to anchor yourself in time and space through this human's condition.
What are you trying to say?
As it happens, so have I.
...
Easy now. Don't go putting blames on me just yet. You arrived before I could even start treating the wounds.
...I'll handle it.
She picks up the first-aid supplies, and a wave of familiarity washes over her. Back at "that F.O.S. College," [player name] had once stitched her wounds with the same careful hands.
That was how she learned.
She sutures the human's wounds with meticulous care, treating every injury until all is set right.
And Vonnegut waits in silence throughout.
Click.
Only when Alpha finishes tending the human's wounds and sets the needle and thread back into the medical kit with a soft click does the silence break.
What is the "current" situation on your end?
The Hetero Tower has been destroyed. There are no more clear exits leading to any specific point in time. You... Lucia. Lucia remains inside, guarding the "key" that has absorbed the tower's core, but the Fog is already spreading.
The Merciful One has noticed our situation, but she is not of our civilization. I cannot say for certain whether she will lend her aid.
As if something has just crossed his mind, Vonnegut pauses mid-sentence, adjusts his wording, and his gaze softens a little.
It seems she must have lent her aid already.
Vonnegut has clearly seen through the change in the "Lucia" standing before him.
Yes. I'm grateful to her, and I'll be seeing her soon. Before the day comes when I must face what lies beyond the "gate," I still need her cover.
I see.
...Congratulations, Lucia.
I'm not going to waste time asking whether that was Nemo or Trout talking.
I only want to know one thing. Which Lucia are you congratulating?
Alpha gazes at Vonnegut in silence.
This time, he pauses for a full thirty seconds of thought before breaking the silence.
...I know there should only be one Lucia.
Nemo told me many things, but when it came to you, he'd never speak plainly.
Perhaps because you're part of his regrets as well. He wanted to bury you in that world he can never return to.
He observed the two Lucias in this world carefully. But neither of them seemed to be you. I tested you myself, too, when we met again back in the greenhouse, where the Red Tide was being bred.
Back then, fate clearly hadn't caught up with you yet. You hadn't returned to the same "starting point."
I suspected something had happened to you... but it didn't matter. My time was running short. I had matters concerning the Hetero Tower to attend to. I needed to go back.
Yes. You were obsessed with going back. Even knowing the Hetero Tower would vanish and never descend again, you'd still try to activate Zero-point Reactor 1, searching for a "starting point" over and over.
...How could I not be?
I could only rely on my own judgment. No one else saw things from where I stood.
But of course, your perspective surpasses mine now.
The weary man seems to want to close his eyes. There is no need for him to keep watching over everything anymore.
...I'm sorry, Lucia.
We always saw you as a helpless child instead of the little hero known as Alpha... even though all we wanted was to keep you safe.
It should never have been your burden to bear, yet here you are, bearing it all the same.
You've done better than any of us ever could.
Regret is pressed down behind his eyes. At last, Vonnegut can meet Alpha's gaze with something like calm.
Too many people deserve your apologies and amends. Your regrets just keep piling up.
People seem unable to find a way to forgive Vonnegut. He is a man who deserves to die, in every sense of the word.
Settling his fate is not within Alpha's authority. What becomes of him, it seems, is a freedom left to Vonnegut alone.
Alpha turns away from him and gently presses the palm of the human lying on the bed. It is a familiar gesture between them, and it works. The pained furrow in the sleeper's brow softens ever so slightly.
Only then does Alpha's heart feel the faintest bit lighter.
I'm taking this one with me.
Suit yourself. But this layer must remain intact. If it doesn't, the top-layer world you
I need to wait for 10 days before I can make my move. Protecting this vein of "fate"... it may well be my last mission.
If you would, take my cat with you as well.
Vonnegut nudges the big orange ball out of the corner with his foot.
You already have a white cat and a gray one. I know they're well-raised, gentle-tempered. Hopefully, they won't mind mine too much.
...What about you, Vonnegut? Where should you go? Where do you want to go?
Alpha stops calling him Nemo.
Have you ever thought about giving up that power? Cutting away all that noise in your M.I.N.D. and just becoming... one person? Or one Construct?
—Even if she has given up on taking Vonnegut's pain as her own, Alpha still points him toward a way home.
...
Vonnegut lets out a soft sigh, his gaze resting gently on Alpha and on the human lying in the bed behind her.
For just a moment, Alpha believes she sees him hesitate.
But still, he says:
All I have left is my life.
It's the last thing I can freely choose for myself.
Once I've spent it all, you can pass judgment however you want. "That's just how it goes."
That's just how it goes.
How the victim of the suicide epidemic will exercise his freedom remains unknown.
But Alpha can "see" it: the veins of the Phylotree growing clearer by the moment. Someone has indeed begun to help, striving to hold it all together.
With their aid, Alpha continues to gather each thread of misery, untangling and setting them right.
Only when the hands of the dead fade one by one, releasing her shoulders in peace, does she finally stop churning through the Fog and pause to catch her breath.
She looks up and sees branches thick with leaves, flourishing overhead.
She looks down and sees the lamb still nestled in her arms, having never strayed.
How long has it been?
Perhaps the passing of many lifetimes. Perhaps the universe's full arc, from birth to final silence.
Either way, a long, long time.
In taking in all that misery, in offering yourself up as a sacrifice... did you find a hint of satisfaction?
Maybe. But that doesn't matter anymore.
She blinks. A breath passes like a fleeting moment. The emotions of the world seem to have lost their hold on her entirely.
The lamb watches her, its thoughts unreadable. Perhaps emotion was the price she paid.
Setting aside what doesn't matter... I've learned more.
She strokes the lamb, slowly coming to realize that the nature of the Phylotree is the M.I.N.D. itself.
This is the true path that humanity, having spent every resource it possessed, managed to find. And now, under the [Crown's] protection, it flourishes ever more.
She has undergone a complete metamorphosis beneath the tree. Not merely her eyes, but every particle of her being has become something that no longer exists in this universe.
Phew...
Alpha gathers the lamb into her arms, resting her cheek against its soft fur.
She tells the lamb that she first grasped [Mercy], the foundational principle that every human must understand upon reaching enlightenment.
So [Mercy] is the blueprint. Every branch and every fruit of this tree grew from [Mercy].
Her eyes hold the image of a woman with pink hair.
...I should go find her next. No, actually, she's already waiting for me.
The lamb nuzzles against her.
The others...
She reaches out, brushing her fingers across all the other fruits.
The fruits are, at their core, the most concentrated form of human civilization's information.
By consuming the ripened
A civilization's tier is determined by its information entropy. Pack enough information together, and it can't be filtered out or easily absorbed.
Say you sit down for breakfast, and all that's on the table is half a glass of milk. You'd call that a pretty sorry meal.
But if the entire ocean was sitting on that table, you'd say—
Correct.
Between my stabilization and everyone else's efforts, things are looking up. The fruits we need to resist the Filtering are starting to take shape.
Look. [Mercy], [Foundation], [Kingdom], [Understanding], [Beauty]... So many of them, slowly ripening.
The leaves. They've been working hard.
She gestures toward the leaves dotted across the tree, some vivid green, some brownish-yellow, and some darkened to near black.
Babylonia's "Phylotree of Ousia". The "Spectre frame data" hidden in Elysium, even though it's false. The Arctic Route Union's "Amalgamation" tech. Carthaki's "Seedling", Ezette's "Corona Gene"...
Hasn't humanity always been walking on this vein?
With enough leaves, they can pull in nutrients and feed the growing fruits.
She gazes at the origin of the world, while the lamb's eyes stay fixed on her alone.
The Ascension-Network selects a powerful vessel to act in its stead. Absorbs all negativity to resist the universe's Filtering.
Like how Vonnegut embodies regret, and Luna embodies hatred... Luna.
The moment Luna's image flickers in her eyes, she looks down, turning something over in her thoughts.
But Luna carved out her own way. From inside all that hatred, she found a sliver of love and understanding. That's how she broke free from the Ascension-Network's grip.
She gives the lamb's ear a tender, indulgent pinch.
Nothing on this tree is a mistake. Everything has its place.
The Ascension-Network is just the other side of a tree grown from the same seed. If you can climb from the shadows into the light, that's not exactly a bad thing.
You're from Babylonia. Your "Phylotree of Ousia" wants to consume all the positive fruits and use that positivity to resist the Filtering. So of course you'd instinctively reject what the Ascension-Network stands for.
In the end, everyone's just trying to find a vein to reach the finish line. Nothing more complicated than that.
She raises a single finger and points toward the "Mind Dossier" aboard Babylonia.
I'll share my vision with humanity. Let them see the tree's veins more clearly.
I don't think so.
She touches her lips softly to the tip of the lamb's nose.
This is for you. A personal favor from me.
She says nothing more. She rises and begins to consume more Sefirot... one bite at a time, one after another. At last, she devours the [Crown] as well: bite by bite, the peel, the flesh, the seeds, swallowing it all.
Perhaps some creation myth penned by humanity speaks of fruits just like these.
When she is done, Alpha wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, sated, revealing humanity's most primal form.
There. I've understood this tree completely.
She stands, extends her hand, and opens the "gate" that has long been waiting quietly at the tree's roots.
The time has come... Alright then. Let's see what's behind this "gate."
But the lamb suddenly asks a question.
...?
She watches the lamb ask its question, yet her hands continue their work, still pushing the gate open.
...Maybe? But all of that...
—!
The Gateway lies open now.
There is no endless sea beyond it, no universe of stars.
Only the lamb, waiting quietly on the other side.
A sharp sting rises in Alpha's nose, as though someone has gathered up every emotion she lost through countless cycles of life and convergence, and placed them back into her chest.
What... is this?
The lamb turns its back and leaves. Alpha throws out her hand, but finds nothing, not even the ghost of its wool beneath her fingertips.
No, wait—
All at once, panic and longing flood her anew, and she steps through the open gate.
