The power of routine carries an immense inertia. Something as mundane as a cup of less-than-perfect coffee is enough to overshadow the memories of adventures, reducing them to mere delusions of a confused mind.
Boss, can we maybe buy some higher-quality coffee beans? Splurging on non-discounted beans once in a while won't bankrupt us.
Here's your newspaper, here's your toast, and here's your subpar coffee. Ah, my beloved rainy day... looks like we won't be getting any customers today.
The room is cold, so you always keep your hands in your pockets, but this is the first time you've been pricked by a needle. You pull out a button with fine threads attached to it.
Oh, it's a little gift from Tiny Doll!
Eileena shrugs dismissively, casually pulls out a detective novel, and retreats to the sofa, curling up like a cat.
Flip the sign at the entrance to "Open", and remember to bring the umbrella back. Since you've received a tip, you should hurry to the meeting.
I have a feeling that our adventures and the dangers won't end here.
She pretends not to hear you, waiting until your footsteps are gone from the doorway before speaking.
Crisis Walker.
Always surrounded by danger, yet always managing to survive... Such is the blessing bestowed upon us both.
What about me then? What do you call me, Eileena? That is your name now, isn't it?
I think it's better to call you "Sister," since we were made by the same great creator.
At the coffee-table-slash-workbench, the mysterious man pours himself a cup of coffee, tracing his finger along the rim with no intention of drinking it.
No, just call me Eileena. Let's not make this any more awkward than it already is.
I seem to have some impression of you. My intuition tells me I shouldn't have too much contact with a dangerous entity like you.
I just came to check on you.
And to remind you not to interfere with their experiments. I don't want to repeatedly discard the same sample, Eileena. There's no point in that.
If that's what you're thinking, why not just eliminate me completely, like you did with Cradle?
The atmosphere grows heavy. Eileena turns a page in her book and boldly continues with her deduction.
The reason you haven't eliminated me isn't because you don't want to, but because you can't. I'm guessing we're on the same level, and they haven't granted you that kind of authority.
It seems your time with humans has made you a bit smarter.
But not smart enough to escape their influence completely.
I thank you for your "kind reminder," but I still reserve the right to make my own choices.
Perhaps we'll meet again soon, but for now, I'm politely asking you to leave.
Good luck to you, Eileena. Let us say goodbye like humans do.
Luck is also part of the experiment. When facing a being that cannot be gazed upon directly, I just hope you're lucky enough. That's all...
The man's apparition vanishes. The coffee cup is somehow empty now, leaving behind only a cryptic coffee ring on the table. Eileena lets out a cold snort.
After the Holy Maiden incident, the church, as a landmark, began reconstruction immediately upon its ruins. Scars are relegated to history, and people are faulted for the calamities. Only glory is claimed for the divine.
Ah, you're the new clergy member. Where are your transfer papers? Never mind, we'll handle the paperwork later. Head to the confession booth quickly. There's already a line forming there.
Stop dawdling! You've dedicated your life to the divine. Would you keep these suffering souls waiting?
The confession booth is a lightless, gloomy little room with a perforated partition and two uncomfortable chairs, as if reminding the visitors that this is no cafe.
You're late.
You may address me as Countess. At least they haven't stripped me of that title yet.
This isn't so much a confession as it is a declaration.
Soon, I will go into the Mist to carry out some necessary killings. For the city's future, of course.
Oh?
You're quite a decent member of the clergy. At least you're very flexible in your understanding of the doctrine.
Very well, I promise you my complete honesty.
The entity that dwells above the gray mist... I intend to declare war against it.
The one who erased Cradle, who manipulates the people of this city, who spread the Mist, who abandoned us all.
I know my chances of winning are slim, but I'm sick of being caged in the Mist. I want to step out of this little "box" and see what's out there.
Before the docks fell to ruin, ships from this city sailed distant seas. The sailors spoke of creatures called whales. I often wonder what such beings are like.
Maybe the world outside is better. Maybe it's worse. But to grasp that future's "possibility," I... we must make our last stand.
Alpha warily places Daybreak on the wooden board in front of the partition.
Why bring her up all of a sudden?
As you take out a button, Alpha instantly understands Luna's little scheme. The other end of the thread has been sewn into your coat.
She has her plans, and I have mine. We're free from each other. After I kill—
Once everything is settled, Luna and I will go our separate ways.
Just like you and Little Alarm Clock, we look after each other while maintaining our freedom.
Speaking of which, it reminds you of another dangerous matter... something that could almost be called a sin.
Yes. She was almost the perfect vessel for Luna.
Luna and I did "plan" for it.
I don't want to tell you.
...No reason. I just didn't want to harm her.
Because she was under your protection? Because she saved my life? No, neither would be reason enough.
Do no evil, lest hellfire consume you. Some paths, once taken, allow no return.
I shouldn't do it. That's the only reason. Even as an Aberration, I can still choose to be human rather than a monster.
Unusually, Alpha carefully chooses her words. Each sentence seems to have been rehearsed countless times in her mind before being spoken.
Stop. I have no obligation to listen to your nonsense.
My patience is wearing thin. When will this confession be over?
Yes.
It has always been.
This has been my only wish for as long as I can remember.
Like a dying camel in the desert, her soul wanders endlessly, thirsting for just one sip from the spring.
You've already asked your "one last thing."
...
You're that kind of person, [player name].
No. Someone who will do what's right.
No. Someone who is worthy of my trust.
Yes... Alright, this is where it ends.
It seems if I don't answer, you won't let me leave this confessional today.
Yes. I've stopped hating. I've come to accept my strength, the fate of being an Aberration, and the name I gave myself—Alpha.
Alpha rises. She draws back the curtain and quietly meets your eyes. Her hands are outstretched, thread-thin strings running between them, connecting one hand to the other.
You already know the answer. But I can't say it out loud. At the very least, don't force me to.
"All the best to you, Alpha." You couldn't think of a better blessing than that. Before this moment, "Alpha" meant nothing but a pale, hollow existence. But from now on, Alpha has a future, one she gets to define.
Time to depart. Into the Mist.
A destined battle awaits in its depths.
