Airi, with lowered head, walked behind the archivist. The old man knew not to disturb the girl in this state. All he hoped for, was that it'll go away once they leave the tall halls buried in the sands. Step by step, more brown towers, constructed from stacked hexagonal tubes, appeared. Each of the tubes had a keyhole on one of its ends and held a roll of documents.

It started to rain, and there was no ceiling, so the archivist used his magical pen to draw a large flying jellyfish, that would shield them both. It was not the only reason though, they needed it to reach the top of the largest tower.

"We will wait until it stops raining." - The archivist said, as he looked at the sky. It wouldn't take long. He peeked at Airi, who was still overflowing with hate. - "Airi, I understand your feelings, but hatred is a strong emotion, that can cause you to focus on matters that aren't of the greatest importance."

"They killed my parents." - Airi screamed out. - "How is that not important to you!?"

The archivist's lips closed. He knew, he chose his words poorly and needed to clarify. - "It is important. It's just..."

"There are more important things to you?" - Airi yelled. - "I'm not stupid. I know what you meant."

"Airi..."

"They cursed my parents for eternity. I have every reason to hate them!"

"You can't change the past."

"But I can have revenge."

"You aim for a goal that is impossible, and will leave you ruined."

"I will END Horegon."

The archivist had no answer, Airi was too blinded by hate. - "If that's your answer, at least allow me to help you." - He extended his hand to feel the droplets of water, but it stopped raining. The jellyfish moved and lowered its cap, until he and Airi could stand on it.

Airi didn't formulate any reply, but archivists knew that in some way, Airi's lack of protest was a sign that they can proceed.

On the top of the tallest tower, was a large octagonal box locked by a complicated puzzle. The archivist spent the next few hours unlocking the box and it was enough for Airi to calm down and prepare.

The box opened and a wooden model of Horegon's Scarecrow appeared in front of Airi's eyes. Airi's only wish was to smash it, but knowing it's a futile action, the child resigned.

The Scarecrow had a shape of a lightly inward spiderweb with rotatable rings. It had a brown color and sharp spikes at the points where the web intersected.

"The Scarecrow is a weird weapon. Its beams exist solely for the purpose of terraforming planets to grow their towers and transform inhabitants into their kind. Their status as one of the twelve is a mystery and was forgotten and erased from the records of old ages."

When the archivist stopped speaking, he closed the box. Airi seemed upset.

"Airi?"

"I learned nothing. Why did you lead me here?"

"Perhaps, I still have something to say, but I'm not sure If you would be willing to accept it."

"Say it!"

"Horegon isn't an enemy that you should direct your hatred at."

"No! They've no right to exist!"

"Horegon can be exploited. They don't have a mind of their own and don't discriminate. If directed to the frontier worlds... they will stop most of the invasions. For some reason, the witch and the monster are afraid of them. Do know, it's not without a cost, many worlds need to be sacrificed to build a path."

Tears welled up in Airi's furious eyes. - "Is it, why my mom and dad died!?"

"I don't know. The tower was there long before the Samurai decided to redirect the Scarecrow."

Wiping sobbing eyes and clenching fists, Airi added through gritted teeth. - "Samurai!?"

"Yes. They're guilty of the cleansing at the G sector."

"I... I HATE them!"

"Do understand, they had a reason. The G sector would fall in hands of Salvation otherwise, it was an important bridgepoint that could lead to a large-scale invasion."

"I don't care. I don't care! They killed everyone!"

"In a war, you must be ready to face hard decisions."

"No! It's wrong!" - Airi protested. - "I'll never forgive them!"

"If you think like this, one day you'll find out, that the whole world might be your enemy."

"Then, I would rather be alone."

"Alone, you won't defeat the nightmares, let alone Horegon."

"Just... watch. One day..."

The archivist knew that he was not going to persuade Airi. He sighed and, with a whistle, summoned the jellyfish. - "I understand. Let's get going, then. I hope you're satisfied with what you've learned."

"You shouldn't keep the truth from me."

"You were not ready. You still, are not." - Despite that, the archivist knew, his days with Airi were the last ones. He couldn't let it be a secret forever.

"That's not for you to decide."

"Enough!" - The archivist yelled, Airi backed off, startled by his tone of voice. - "Show some respect, to the man who fostered you!"

Airi broke into a cry.

The archivist just approached the child, and held it by the hand. - "Do understand, I'm not angry at you." - However, Airi kept crying...

[ . . . ]

After a few hours of weak sobbing, Airi was tired and fell asleep during one of the stops. The archivist lifted the child and allowed it to rest against his shoulder, while he kept on moving. The lights went out once more, but this time, the entire place transformed into a futuristic complex made out of black walls and green lines of light.

The archivist stopped seemingly at a dead end, but as soon as he stopped, a little eye scanner protruded from the wall and identified him. The wall retracted, revealing inside of a black cube, where information was displayed on transparent, hovering touch-screens made of gentle light.

"Airi, Airi. It's time to wake up." - The old man whispered to Airi's ear.

The child's eyes slowly opened and Airi climbed down the archivist's robe, then examined the room. - "Where are we?"

"It's one of the first Anaarian archives." - The archivist explained as he moved the screens across the space. He entered a code, then pushed displays to the side. A small hatch opened at the middle of the platform with holograms, revealing a floating orb of light.

"This is Claire." - The archivist said, before he rested on an automatically-retractable bench, that was built into a wall. - "Ask her any questions you like. In the meantime, I'll rest."

"Hello, Claire. My name is Airi." - Airi spoke in a fascinated voice.

"Greetings, Airi. What would you like to know?"

"Anaari! Their spaceship! What is it like?"

"Anaari's spaceship is a district-size Ark-class unit governed by SI named Atala. It measures ten universal abyssal-scale units in length and two point five in width and depth."

"Can you translate it to the kilometers?"

"It would be approximately 1 129 008 124.7 kilometers in length and 282 252 031.2 kilometers in width and depth."

"...but ...these numbers are too big for me!"

"Understandable. What unit of measurement would you like to use?"

"Can you compare it to something familiar?"

"Its length is about twice the diameter of your sun, or seven and a half times the distance to it."

"Oh! How does it compare to the other eleven ships?"

"It's only smaller than the Goliath, the Star Devourer, and the Destroyer. Other ships are minuscule in comparison."

"Mmm. Okay. How did their ship become one of the twelve?"

"Sorry, this information is classified. Anaari, however, are pioneers in most of the technological advancements, what should be more than enough for their flagship to uphold the status of the twelve."

"Why did Anaari betray us?"

"Sorry, I don't understand."

"When the witch attacked, Anaari escaped to the unknown realms, instead of fighting together!"

"I have no records of such events."

The archivist interrupted his nap. - "Claire is an old virtual assistant, the information is outdated and severely lacking. I don't think there's a point in asking any more questions."

"...but I want to know more!" - Airi protested.

"In time, you'll learn." - The archivist responded. - "There are still five wings of the archive to visit."

"Can't we stay here a bit longer?" - Airi complained.

Archivist sighed. - "Okay. One more question."

"Three!" - Airi shouted out.

The archivist crossed his arms, with a happy smirk on his face. - "Two."

"Three!" - Airi kept pressuring the old man.

"Two, or none."

"Mmm... Mmm... Okay..."

The archivist lied down on a bench once more, and Airi resumed investigation. The child pondered for a while, unsure what to ask, then leaned to Clarie and whispered.

"Can you tell me a secret?"

AI was unresponsive, but its color changed from light blue to yellow. Airi turned, to see If the archivist is looking, but the old man seemed asleep. Without hesitation, Airi extended a hand, then touched Claire with the tips of fingers.

Airi's vision became blurry, it was replaced by images of distant monochrome lands and skies. A black eclipse dawned over the horizon. Five massive black shards of glass protruded from the barren, pale ground. Above the clouds, were massive pipes with their smaller equivalents zigzagging across their surface, they were leaking a white fluid parallel to warm, sweet milk and creating numerous puddles between the cracks in the ground. In the middle of crystals was a black campfire. A pot was placed over it, filled with a mix of substances, one white, the second black.

On the opposite sides of the campfire, sat two silhouettes, one like made of light, second made of shadow. The white one wore a traditional Anaarian attire, which consisted of hides and a poncho with frills, the dark one wore a black futuristic knight armor with a fur collar and a long cape.

Next to them was a small rag with a cup and two twenty sides dice. The figures took turns, gambling with miscellaneous items, which included a variety of coins, feathers, or dolls. The winner would always take the rival's betted item and burn it in the fire.

When the white silhouette had lost for the second time in a row, the liquid in the puddles turned black. When it lost for the third time, the puddles started boiling. When it lost for the fourth time, drops of tar started to form at the pools and rain backward, to the sky.

"I will never understand." - The black silhouette spoke. - "Why did she abandon us?"

The person in white did not answer.

"Her last words. You are 'free'. What did she mean by that?" - The shadow struck the earth with a fist.

"I don't know..." - The white figure answered, holding a paper swallow in its hand. - "...but I think, we will have to leave this place, ultimately."

The shadow gritted its teeth and averted face. - "I don't want to..."

"Don't fear the night. I will be there, to light your path."

"Not forever. You have your own ordeal."

"It can wait."

"Not forever."

"I understand."

The dark figure moved a hand to its belt, took out a ring of keys, and tossed it onto the rag. Its white partner released the paper swallow on the opposite side, then put a die in the cup and gently shook it.

"Eight." - The white entity noted.

The black entity took its own die and followed. - "Sixteen. Their fate is sealed."

"I understand." - There was a hint of sadness in that voice.

The paper swallow landed in fire and the pipes broke in half, waterfalls of black sludge flowed out of them, upwards, until they formed a black whirlpool with an endless pit in its middle. A few pieces of battered steel made it out of the vortex, but the shadow looked at the sky with an unhappy expression.

"Do you think, that it's her doing?" - It responded.

"It certainly is."