PC12A

They're pretty persistent…!

Fabius flees again, using Sea Terrors and his followers as meatshields.

Wait, no. I see it now.

It's not Fabius who's putting them in harm's way to save himself...

The Sea Terrors and the cultists are throwing themselves in our way, entirely willing to sacrifice their lives to ensure that Fabius gets away.

But for all that, the only place left for him to flee on the ship, wounded and cornered by the Sinners and Irene's lamplight… was the decks.

Nowhere left to run, Fabius.

… I understand you can't help but continue to thrash and struggle to live, even knowing that there's no hope.

But running'll only make your pain worse.

That's different.

Fabi didn't run to live.

A voice echoes from under the dark sky…

Mayors…?

… Mayors, appearing quite different from how she did a moment ago.

She approaches Fabius slowly, her expression solemn and mournful. She looks down at him wordlessly.

I told you that your methods won't win their understanding, Fabi.

Ha ha... what a shame. I thought those with such wisdom and aptitude... would.

... I hoped you would still be able to realize your ideal here, even after I'd left.

It will be realized... Fabius may die here... but we... will remain.

Now, it is time. Devour... me...

What Fabius blurted out threw us off once again, even before we regained our footing from the shock of realizing Mayors's true allegiance.

Eat... people...?

Oho. Looks like they're about to give us a live demonstration of some gourmet art.

I heard it's a pretty common thing in the District 23 Backstreets... but I'd... I'd rather not see it in person... H-hey, I think I'm just gonna look away, that's okay, right?

Just what...?

... Doctor, weaker Seaborns willingly let themselves be devoured by stronger ones, thereby sharing their experiences and nutrients with them. This is a commonly accepted practice among them.

It is but a behavior that prioritizes survival over all else; this isn't done in any sense of sacrifice.

…….

The time is here… Devour me… set sail… toward your ideal…

Sorry, Fabi.

I've still got some canned food left for me on this ship, and... I think I'll delay becoming a Seaborn for a little while.

… Why…?

I've found a new destination.

I'll gain a new power from there… and then become a Seaborn. So now is not yet the time.

… If… that is your will, O Bishop…

Don't worry. Your flesh… will fatten the bloodkin of the sea.

Mayors waves her hand, and Sea Terrors climb up to the vessel from the ship and begin tearing Fabius to pieces.

Despite the way it looked, Fabius looked... exhilarted, nary a look of suffering or pain wrinkling his face as they ripped his flesh apart.

We turned away from this scene that could not be described as anything else other than cannibalism to look at Mayors.

Kal'tsit, is she…

Don't need to ask questions when the answer lies plainly before you, Doctor.

W-what is happening? Wherefore did young Mayors…?

<It wasn't Fabius.>

<Mayors… was the Bishop of the Deep.>