Silent Night (after battle)

…That was a tough opponent. We should move before they come back to their senses.

What a shameful thing to say. A soldier does not retreat before the enemy when victory is in sight.

Can't you save the military drill for a better time?

<Ishmael is right. That's not someone we can beat easily.>

…We will fall back.

Outis reluctantly backed down.

<Sinclair, do you know what that Kromer meant by "that familiar spot"?>

That's… well…

Sinclair shook. He was seemingly overwhelmed with dread.

But I could also see a teeth-grinding anger in him that surpassed his fear.

Looking at him, a thought blossomed in my mind.

<You need to talk, Sinclair.>

<Tell us what you know, and you'll prevent half the deaths we might suffer.>

It'll also raise the likelihood of our success. I'm looking forward to hearing something useful.

…I hope I'm doing the right thing as the manager.

Sinclair shook his head upon hearing my words, breathed in, and finally opened his mouth after some struggle.

…My house. That's where Kromer must be.

So, you know that bird?

Bollocks, my head is still pounding thanks to her shrill laugh.

…I met her at school.

Oh boy, she's a friend of yours? Whatever's going on, sure hope you can talk it out…

She's not my friend. Kromer killed my family.

……

My bad.

A prosthetic head hanging from a tree slowly turned to face us.

Lights and sparks occasionally flickered within.

Sin…cl…a…ir… Bzt… Pzzt…

Why… did you… return…

…Sinclair, are those your neighbors?

Rodya asked while looking at the dismembered prostheses.

It looks like they were… I really hope that isn't the case, though…

Sinclair replied, watching with a grim look on his face as their bare wires sparked and short-circuited.

The robotic head soon stopped moving, only emitting discordant things.

Then, a song begins to fill the air.

Silent night…

All the heads hung from the trees are singing the same song.

The carol leaking through the vocal units of so many lifeless heads lands on the flames below.

Holy night…

It's clearer than ever now… Prosthetic body parts are "heresy" to them.

Though it has been quite a while since prostheses were first introduced to the City…

Many people still find them foreign and alienating.

…Our town.

Our town was called… "The Holy Site of Nest K's Prosthetic Industry". Most of the residents worked in manufacturing high-end prosthesis components.

Kromer has been keeping an eye on our town for a long time.

So, was your family…

Yeah, my father was the owner of a fledgling prosthetics company too.

Is that why…

No.

The way I see it, attributing it to a high-flown cause of any kind is giving them too much credit.

They're… just lunatics, consumed by madness and violence.

Ishmael asserted to him.

After a while of staring at the "Christmas" trees decorated with his neighbors, Sinclair turned to me.

Manager, I have a question if it's alright with you.

<What is it?>

Well… How does it feel?

<Feel?>

Yeah.

I mean, how does it feel to have a prosthetic replacement for your head?

I was a little taken aback since I've never had anyone ask that kind of question before.

The issue is that there's no way to know how I might have felt before I got a clock for a head.

<Uhm… That's…>

Oh! It's - um… I'm not trying to argue with you or anything.

…T-That was probably rude of me. I apologize.

<No need, it's alright.>

The other Sinners were a billion times ruder to me with their daily interactions, anyway.

<I'm afraid I can't answer that… I don't remember a single thing about my life before this clock.>

I see…

I've always wondered what it feels like when there's something sitting where your head should be…

My family said it's no different from wearing a hat or a watch…

But I just couldn't picture it well no matter how I approached it.

And now, I'm the only survivor thanks to that.

<I'm sure the procedure seemed terrifying at such a young age. You don't have to feel guilty about that.>

That's not it…

It's nothing like that…

I'm afraid I'm not as innocent as you might think, Dante…

Sinclair quietly hung his head.

I racked my brains for an appropriate reply, but no suitable words of comfort came up.

Only the unpleasant sounds of sparks and flames filled the street.