Damn it! Do something already!
Unless... unless she...
I'm afraid it's... too late.
Voices echo everywhere without logic. She struggles against empty air.
Regrettably, she is dead. Beyond saving. Gone.
Why? Why can't she save anyone? The old tailor, Rosewater...
Blatter, Isis, Lilako... and now Eleanor. All of them are gone, leaving her behind.
She can only stand there and listen as reality passes judgment. She wants to scream, to start over, but the pain in her head bursts again and again, like a string of lightbulbs exploding without pause.
So there's nothing more we can do?
We can't risk Mind Beacon contamination.
Maybe assigning her to Scarab was a mistake...
Scarab Squad Lounge
Scarab Squad Lounge
V, I'm telling you, Discord's not cut out for Scarab.
Shiva storms into the Scarab lounge, pulls out a chair, and drops into it with a loud scrape.
Yata is flipping through a comic. Valeria looks up from her terminal.
She's clearly going to get herself killed and doesn't even know it.
...
Yata.
Eh.
What am I supposed to do here? The Scarab squad's barely been formed and we're already falling apart?
The comics I've read don't exactly cover this situation...
An emergency meeting call pulls Valeria away. Before leaving, she gives Yata a meaningful look.
Yata sits the fuming Shiva down and tosses her a can from the fridge.
What's this? I don't drink synthetic alcohol.
Limited-edition mint-flavored fermented fruit electrolyte.
Shiva doesn't even wait for a reply before popping the can open with a sharp crack. Yata watches, nervous, as she downs it in one go.
Alright, so... what happened between you and Discord?
I told you already. She's going to get herself killed.
The Scarabs are supposed to be a safety net, a secret weapon. I can't work with someone who's rushing to throw her life away.
She acts like she's ready to be abandoned, discarded, or destroyed at any moment.
Yet you still forced her onto a path to survive.
...
Let me be clear. I don't think what happened out there can be repeated.
She fought her way out of a swarm of Hetero-Creatures alone. Followed my orders with machine-like precision.
Isn't that a good thing?
Good? She didn't show a trace of hesitation, doubt, fear, or fatigue. If I hadn't met her before, I'd think an AI had hijacked her frame.
When unexpected enemies showed up, I told her to pull back. She told me the mission was to wipe them out...
Wait, weren't you on a standard support and extermination job? Where did all those Hetero-Creatures come from?
I'd like to know that myself. We barely got on the transport in time. The pilot almost left us to die in that mess.
Yata gives a wry smile, but Shiva keeps going before she can speak.
Her mental state's all over the place. One moment she's like magma about to erupt, the next she's a dead, silent salt flat.
No way. If that were true, she would've shown signs of M.I.N.D. deviation ages ago.
Shiva crushes the can in her hand, her expression serious.
I've got a feeling.
The captain of Scarab feels the weight of the problem. This is trouble.
...I'll make sure V keeps an eye on her.
The situation Shiva described happens again during another Scarab's mission.
Hey! Discord! Get back here! We're not Gray Raven with their fancy specialized frames!
Yata watches Discord's blue silhouette disappear into the distance. She turns to Shiva, who gives her an all-too-familiar look that says, "Told you so."
Someone just jumped the gun.
V, what now?
There are too many of them. Shiva and I will hold here. You go bring Discord back.
Be careful, Yata.
The landscape stretches on, repetitive and unchanging. Discord chases the enemy ahead. She must have gotten lost.
After that confusion and daze ease, Discord stops fixating on how to finish her mission. Instead, she sinks into a steady, even gloom.
She goes under slowly, with no way to resist, like sinking inch by inch into a pit of quicksand.
She knows this place. She has been here before. Experiences like this are not rare, but even on the surface they are enough to make people uneasy.
Most people ignore it and treat it as a memory fragment they forgot. Or, under the sway of mysticism, they think it is some kind of psychic experience.
Deja vu.
She's fought the enemies in this area more times than she can count.
The last active Corrupted Construct falls to the ground after her heavy strike, still muttering unclear commands.
"New world"... go to... "new world"...
The Eden III colony ship, that grand deception, begins to shake. Chunks of stone and wall fall away. It seems the false structure can no longer hold together.
Discord moves quickly through the inner chamber as the dust settles. Amid the rubble, she catches sight of a familiar golden color.
What once bound you... is finally gone.
She whispers the words so quietly that only she can hear them.
Target eliminated. Next, just need to get out with the intel...
Suddenly, a massive piece of debris crashes down from above. It strikes a holographic projector midair, shattering into countless fragments.
Before she can move, a purple-black Moon Umbrella flies from behind, shielding her from the falling rubble before spinning back into its owner's hand.
...!
That generation, blinded by idealism, clung to the belief that humanity's technological progress would bring a rapid rise in human morality.
But look at us, just expendable tools. I wonder if we'll end up erasing their precious words about "peace and progress" entirely.
Discord knows that mocking tone all too well. Lilith always knows more than most, yet despises the very knowledge she holds.
If a single shell could wipe anyone off the face of the earth, then storytelling would be pointless. I can't be killed so easily, and I don't plan on missing a good story.
But what if I could be the one to fire that shell myself...
Wouldn't that be the best thing ever?
<color=#ff4e4eff>HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!</color>
Lilith runs a hand over her face, laughing heartily. Every moment she lives is an announcement of her unchained freedom.
Eleanor...
The Construct in front of her freezes at the sound of that familiar name. Her laughter stops, and she transforms in an instant into the frail, graceful, gentle lady she once was.
But both of them know this is nothing more than the simplest performance in the theater of daily life.
She has never cared about the stage or the audience.
The Ascendant takes off her gloves, letting go of all formality, and slowly extends her pale hands. Mechanical joints and tightly interlocked gears are visible beneath the skin.
So, will you stand by my side for Eleanor's sake?
Discord holds back a shiver. Her breathing grows heavy.
She thought the answer would come without hesitation, but her thoughts feel like they are being hacked apart by a pair of massive, razor-sharp scissors. Pieces are torn away and tossed onto a scrap heap.
Wouldn't it be nice to just be my assistant forever? You never have to think again. Wouldn't that be nice?
Sorrow? Grief? Guilt? Resentment? Despair? Anger? Disappointment? Confrontation? Confusion? Hope? Severance? Choice?
Choice?
Choice?
Choice?
Countless feelings rush past her all at once, leaving behind a messy knot of emptiness she can't untangle.
Because of that, she can't speak. Even her face stays frozen.
Night settles deeper, and Eden's artificial sky reflects the fading dusk perfectly. One figure steps toward the other, arms opening slowly, as if to offer an embrace.
I thought it didn't matter whether we were allies, enemies, or anything in between... but now, forget it.
Yes. We already... said goodbye.
You could have just stopped thinking and followed me.
Plants and insects follow the light and the moon... People do that too.
Without orders, you don't know how to act.
No! That's not true! I've been looking for you, Eleanor. No one ordered me to.
You just don't want to face your weak heart alone again.
Weak heart... Red flowers bloom where she was wounded, whispering to her quietly.
<color=#ff4e4eff>Is that how it is?</color>
...
I followed my heart once. That's why I chose to go with you.
You led me out of the abyss and darkness when I was just a child...
Her vision clears as she speaks, the words lifting a burden she has carried for years.
<color=#ff4e4eff>Even you don't know what truly drives this body.</color>
<color=#ff4e4eff>You've gotten so used to taking orders from others that you never realized you've been following your own will all along.</color>
You'll always be an outsider, a discordant note in the main melody. Don't you see?
Low status, a dirty history... just another shadow agent hiding in Kurono's back alleys.
When they want someone to die, you'll just be another name on a monument. When they demand loyalty, you'll bury yourself without hesitation. Nobody truly cares how you feel.
You're nothing but a helper without a self. A stray dog with no goal and no home...
I cared about you...!
And you left without a word. You vanished right in front of me...
She once believed that after regaining her legs, she could also give the other person the freedom to move forward.
Discord looks at her face. She once tried to stitch together the shape of her soul, thread by thread.
But in those violet eyes, she has never seen her own reflection.
I'm not a worthless stray...
And I should never have been the first one you chose to throw away...!
Her outstretched hands close slowly, like the final pose of a dance.
I see.
But the peak of the world has always been so narrow, it can only hold one heel.
Lilith walks past her and snaps her fingers.
Discord freezes in place, held still as if under a spell.
In the next moment, she watches the tip of the umbrella burst from her abdomen, exactly like what happened to the Construct who died before her eyes not long ago.
The ending is already decided.
When Discord finally realizes it, the grief hits her with a crushing force. Pain crashes through her M.I.N.D., alarms flood her perception systems, and darkness swallows her whole.
A parting gift.
This is your final order: Don't come see me ever again.
Threads from another presence snake in like tentacles, stitching together the broken pieces of her memories and the illusions reshaped around them.
Then the force vanishes. The stitches melt away like ice, breaking apart and scattering into a shower of crimson spider lilies.
<color=#ff4e4eff>If only you had said these things back then.</color>
<color=#ff4e4eff>Don't leave... any more regrets.</color>
A gentle, unfamiliar voice whispers to her. The scene pulls back like a receding tide, and Discord suddenly realizes with perfect clarity that this moment is about to disappear.
<color=#ff4e4eff>I hope... your next dream will be a good one.</color>
Wake up, Discord.
When Discord opens her eyes, she does not see the Hydrangea Artificial Island. Instead, she sees nothing but a vast sky full of blowing sand.
Yata is carrying her in mechanical arms, pushing forward step by step against the strong wind toward the rendezvous point indicated by their signal.
I... why am I here?
What about the mission?
Seriously? You're still thinking about the mission right now? How about you thank me first for dragging you out of that mess?
I'm sorry.
Thanks...
Were you dreaming just now?
...
Discord tries to remember, but her thoughts freeze in the span of a single breath.
Was it a dream? I don't really remember.
Hmm... so this is what Shiva meant by magma one second and a dead sea the next?
...Shiva?
All ammo and guns are gone... Discord instinctively checks for weapons on her body before she even registers what Yata just said.
That mystic... Shiva is worried about you.
Yata sets Discord down from her mechanical arms, lets out a breath, and takes the lead.
Discord remembers Shiva's furrowed brow and angry glare. The "eye" on her forehead emits a faint green glow.
Was that... concern? She has no idea how to respond.
For this mission, we Scarabs are just backup. The Cerberus squad is already going after the real target.
Let's meet up with V.
They walk in silence, one ahead and one behind. Yata shields her from part of the wind's force.
My frame's got sand filters. That's thanks to the Babylonia military learning the hard way during past ground missions.
The feet are designed to spread out the weight so they don't sink into the sand like yours. Took a lot of training to get used to it back then...
With an abrupt shift, the short-haired Construct finally forces out what she has been holding back the whole way.
I don't know what kind of nightmare training you're planning, but—
Even if your combat skills are great, your actions put your teammates in danger.
...
Sorry, I didn't think anyone would come for me.
What?
Of course I'd come to save you! You were about to get swallowed by the Red Tide.
You could have just hit me with grenades or a high-powered pulse gun. A mission sometimes needs bait to succeed.
...
Yata gets a little angry.
Why are you so set on dying?
The swirling sands erupt as countless Hetero-Creatures stumble up from underground. Yata's last word comes out alongside the sound of her fist slamming into the ground.
Discord slips her mask on and locks onto heat sources moving through the sand. Her last remaining weapon unfolds into combat mode.
A drooling Hetero-Creature lunges at her, and her blade slices it clean in two.
...
Because... I don't even have the freedom to choose death.
The mission, always the mission...
Kill. Then kill again.
Only much later does the captain of Scarab understand that all of this shows a hidden pain that has always been building inside Discord.
From street orphan to tailor, from maid to agent, from the Purifying Force to Scarab... the whole time, she feels that no one ever truly cares about her. She is invisible.
In an earlier era, a doctor might prescribe lithium carbonate or haloperidol.
For Constructs, though, disorders of the M.I.N.D. rarely receive real attention or care.
In the end, they only sink into the deep sea like forgotten shipwrecks, left to bacteria and rust, waiting in silence to be swallowed by time and darkness.
Aren't you the same? Back on Hydrangea Island...
Haven't you thought that never waking up might be better?
Living in a dream is nice...
But I stepped out of it.
I promised a lot of people, and I promised myself, to face reality.
...
Not everyone can be like you.
Of course. Everyone is born carrying a bit of baggage.
Discord's memories suddenly stir. Electrical signals tickle her cortex. She remembers her small metal fragment—smooth and capable of transmitting body heat—her own "baggage."
I got guidance and help from many people. Step by step, I reached this point.
Yata takes a deep breath and spreads her hands in front of her chest. They are scorching hot from running at high output.
If it weren't for them, if I had kept living in a dream, I wouldn't be who I am now.
Discord notices that up ahead, through the howl of the sandstorm, Yata hums a tune under her breath.
That melody... it feels like she only heard it just now.
Time for you to go. This is goodbye for real this time.
Hurry! Take my courage with you and charge forward with everything you've got!
Thank goodness... you managed to escape.
So... stop blaming yourself for this.
In these dreams, some were promoted to officers, some became heroes, and a few shed their uniforms to live ordinary lives...
While you remained at Misono High.
One's best dream shouldn't lie in the past... but in the future.
The broken bits of the school anthem cut off as more enemies keep appearing.
Scorpion-type Hetero-Creatures? Ugh... damn you...!
The Night Raid unleashed by the Fulgor frame almost tears open the rotating wind pressure over the area, tinting the sky the gray indigo of a thunderstorm.
The swarm splits for a moment, then quickly surges back together.
As the fight drags on, waves of Hetero-Creatures overwhelm them again, and the two fall into danger.
Not good!
While fending off a massive Hetero-Creature, she sees from the corner of her eye that Discord is hurt. Vital fluid splashes out and the churning mud drinks it up. Her movements slow.
More and more Hetero-Creatures burst from underground, shrieking as they encircle Discord, trying to drag her into a prison of quicksand.
I... don't care... what happens to me...
You... go...!
The blue-haired Construct throws her weapon with all her strength. The blade pins the creature holding Yata right through the head. In the next instant, Discord sinks halfway down, buried in the yellow sand.
Gasp... Gasp...
Why... is it like this again...
Her mechanical arms enter a brief cool-down and recharge. Yata gasps for air and holds a guard stance on instinct.
No matter how she blinks, her vision stays blurry. The scorpion-like Hetero-Creature raises its stinger high.
Yata, quit slacking. You never know when this stuff will come in handy. Remember when I made you memorize how to rewire circuits? You ended up using it, didn't you?
Yeah, but wouldn't it be enough if you knew how?
I've got a feeling.
And what if I'm not around one day?
Ugh, here we go. What are you now, some fortune-teller predicting your own death? Did you pick this up from that mystic?
I'm your captain. Complaining about my nagging won't change that. Now get moving.
Moving where?
If you don't hurry, Coach V's gonna make you do another twenty sets of high knees.
She rushes to catch up.
Wait, what?!
Golden dusk spills across the white-lined track.
Yata always thinks the captain's sash with the Scarab emblem looks ugly, but when the captain runs, that sash streaming in the wind looks like a clear, endless current—beautiful.
Shorthalt slows to a stop. In the fading sunlight, his broad frame casts a long shadow across the ground.
From ahead, Yata turns and looks back at him, puzzled.
Instead of moving forward, she jogs in place as she waits for her captain to catch up.
Yata, this is where I stop.
What's with you today? Out of breath already?
Yeah, I'm tired.
I'm stopping here.
He takes off the sash from his own body. It's the pride of the track team.
But you still have to run forward, Yata.
The man sets the sash on Yata's shoulder with care.
As captain, guide Scarab, and push the whole squad to keep going.
Heh. When you finally think to thank me, just bring me extra snacks.
His body turns into a silhouette of darkness, the edges slowly dissolving into nothing.
Yata turns her gaze back to the track stretching ahead.
See? Even as a ghost, you'd still be nagging in my ear. I knew it.
Now, give her a hand.
V... is this why you made me captain...?
Run, students, run! All your troubles will fade away when you run!
She has many things she wants to say and many feelings she wants to release. But instead of speaking, she just runs forward.
Ahh...
AAAAAAAAAARGH—!
She shouts and throws her fists again and again, trying to drive away the shadows of the past.
Her punches are so fast they leave afterimages. She jumps into the center of the vortex where the blue Construct disappeared and reaches out as far as she can.
Dreams are beautiful because you wake from them!
The Fulgor frame's alarms sound loudly as streams of sand fall past her. Yata increases her output even more.
For those who want to face reality, is it right to let pleasant dreams take away their chance to grow?
This time I want to be the one who walks ahead with open eyes.
Shorthalt... I don't know if I can be as good as you.
Her hands finally grab her companion and stop them both from sinking further. The powered arms strain under the weight and feel like they could break at the joints.
But this is my choice!
The return of light feels both short and long at the same time.
The blue-haired Construct struggles to lift her battered body.
...Is the attack over?
Remains of the enemies are scattered everywhere. Not far away, the short-haired Construct is kneeling on one knee, her mechanical hand slowly forming a V sign toward Discord.
I don't want to lose anyone else. That includes you, Discord.
Once, twice... no matter how many times it takes.
I'll come for you every single time.
The door slams shut right in front of them, trapping everyone on the other side in cold, endless waiting.
Once, twice... the same scene plays out again and again.
The symptoms are exactly like human brain death. Scarab squad member Discord... she's...
That's impossible!
Yata lunges forward, but Shiva stops her.
Only the symptoms are similar, right? What about her M.I.N.D.?
Complete connection rejection.
She doesn't have any fatal injuries. Could the new frame be the cause? Can we switch her back to the old one?
In this condition... that's almost impossible.
Then I'll find someone who can help!
The short-haired Construct hits the glass helplessly, staring at the flat line on the dimly lit monitor.
Hey...
Discord! Wake up!
...
Discord...
