26 Cradle Parade

On April 1st, fate decided to crack a cruel joke, depriving the "hero" of all "light."

From the wreckage emerges a visitor Lithos never expected.

Like a lost soul, Shorthalt wanders alone in the pit of despair, awaiting his kind's arrival.

On the Ascendants' side, Lamia has also vanished.

The "ingredients," originally scattered everywhere, are driven by their own intentions, converging at this very place.

Mostly, she's just grateful to get to blend in, to hide behind her false identity, even for just a little longer... before her lies are uncovered.

Caught in the pit of despair, the four finally meet here, each harboring different thoughts as they take their first steps toward resistance.

The rose, withered by the brew of sin born out of love, now only leaves a young seedling behind. Growing in the soil of hatred, it patiently waits... until the day it can seek revenge on everyone involved in Project Winter.

As long as no one finds out, Lamia isn't slacking off, and all investigations are smoothly carried on.

Soon, we will encounter an even greater crisis. Only through a soldier's sacrifice can the knight protect the princess and make their safe escape.

With the darkness swallowing the light, she walks over a carpet of shadows.

As the torrents of despair pull the "hero" into the suffocating depths of the sea, both the Gray Ravens and the guardian of the cradle receive troubling news.

In endless despair, only one feels reborn.

She wants to catch up to those people and see for herself the starry sky they've given up their lives trying to pursue.

She hums the lullaby of prayers, calling upon the "god," yet it is always only the mother who can truly soothe a child.

The drowned prays to come across a piece of driftwood amidst the torrents, only to find grass in its own struggle.

Step by step, she approaches the human, with the egg, weapon, and a swarm of Hetero-Creatures.

Can the truth be as simple as the news make it out to be if all of this is pointing toward the past of Vonnegut the agent?

God only knows if this utopia is going to see the light of tomorrow.

Who do I have to become to stand here, to avoid being hunted down, and to not be seen through?

This is good enough, he lies to himself.

Quietly, the player lay their nearly-gone life on the chess board, prepared for the worst as they take the next move.

We don't belong to the same floor. I passed by the one you're on during my ascent, and now I see it again as I go down. However, I don't think I'll ever ride this elevator again, so let's say our farewells now.

—Even though we have become part of the Red Tide, we will continue to search for our path even in death, marching in the parade as corpses.

With her singing and tears, she sends the love letter that can never reach the stars to their reflections.

Numbers or letters? A trap or coincidence?