"Eh? He's already left?"
"Yes. But I don't know where he went."
The scene rewinds to the day after Novia was flown to Armageddon by Melusine.
On the outskirts of Rome, at the barracks of the Praetorian Guard, Lucius, newly appointed as commander, was implementing Novia's will—reforming the guards into soldiers of faith, rather than the decadent men they'd become, lost in indulgence brought by high pay and privilege.
Thanks to Novia's current prestige—and also Lucius' blunt declaration that anyone dissatisfied could challenge him to single combat—most of the Praetorians had, over time, been beaten into submission. And with that came obedience.
But Novia understood very well: even if the Roman Empire eventually developed an effective administrative system centered around Christianity and used doctrine to stabilize the Roman spirit, all of it merely delayed the inevitable. No matter how far Rome expanded, the root problems would persist—and ultimately bring about its fall. That was something no one could change.
"Lady Shiali, perhaps you'd like to tour the city while you wait? When Novia—ah, I mean, His Holiness the Pope—returns, I'll inform you at once."
Lucius stepped forward to the gates of the barracks, speaking to the violet-haired girl who had just arrived.
For Shiali, who had spent most of her life within the walls of the Atlas Institute, the happenings of the Roman Empire were practically a blank slate. The Atlas alchemists rarely paid attention to the outside world, far too absorbed in their research.
Naturally, Shiali was no exception. If not for her adoptive father, the Dean, personally informing her that Novia had founded a new organization called the Sanctum Church, she would probably still be buried in her work, holed up in the Atlas Institute.
At first, she had been confused about why her mentor had even bothered telling her something so irrelevant to her research. What use did it have?
But—since Novia was a rare friend, someone hard-won—she decided she should at least show up.
And now she had missed him.
"No need. Since that's the case, I'll take my leave. I'm busy with my research anyway…"
Shiali stood there, staring blankly at the unchanging sky, her head feeling strangely empty. A sense of discomfort welled up inside her—perhaps from the thought that she had spent precious time to come here, yet failed to meet the one she came for.
But perhaps…
Perhaps what unsettled her was something deeper: she had wanted to see him—and now she couldn't.
"Would you like to leave a message? I can pass it along when he returns."
"No, I don't—"
"Really?"
Lucius grinned.
After all, he wasn't inexperienced in these matters. Once, he had been romantically involved with a druid priestess over a hundred years old. Though in truth they had merely used each other during wartime, the woman had scarred his face before her execution. That wound later caused him to go blind in battle, leading to his defeat.
Until he met Christ, Lucius had lived like a corpse, drifting in the dark. It was salvation that brought him back into the light.
Years later, he met Novia and watched him, step by step, build the Christian faith into what it had become—renaming it the Sanctum Church along the way.
And Lucius had long noticed something about Shiali, who had once been invited to Britain to study the Dragon of Albion—though cold and aloof on the outside, the violet-haired girl clearly harbored feelings for Novia. She simply didn't know how to express them, restrained by something within her.
Which is why Lucius, ever the matchmaker, thought he might lend them a hand. After all, he'd never seen any other woman by Novia's side. If Novia hadn't rejected the idea, Lucius would've long introduced him to some lovely druid women back in Britain.
"..."
From Shiali's point of view, Lucius was just forcing her to say something to someone who wasn't even here. She'd already said she didn't want to—but he insisted.
People were weird. That was the only conclusion she could draw. So many people, so many oddities. If not for her vow—made after meeting Novia—to stop using ether lines to eavesdrop on others' perceptions and instead rely on her own emotions, she might've already used them on Lucius by now.
"…Novia, I…"
Shiali lifted her head again, gazing at the sky. The warm sunlight kissed her cheek, its inorganic brilliance gilded in gold—just like that day they first met. That day, too, he stood in such sunlight, saying something incomprehensible.
Her mind replayed that first meeting in Alexandria—a scene that had never changed since.
She sighed listlessly.
"…Sorry, Lucius. Could you go back inside for a bit? I'll give it to you later."
"Alright."
Lucius nodded and left without pressing the matter.
Shiali then took out the gift she had prepared for Novia: a stone. Something she had spent a long time deciding on. It was a device she invented—capable of engraving sound onto its surface.
The Atlas Institute's rules strictly forbade the public release of personal research. But the old Dean had pretended not to notice when she slipped it out to give away.
Lucius could've relayed her words, yes—but the violet-haired girl felt it would be better for Novia to hear them directly.
A cold wind blew suddenly. Her back stiffened, a chill creeping over her skin.
She suddenly remembered the food she had saved—a piece she had meant to return to him, still well-preserved.
Her cold fingers brushed over the surface of the stone, and Shiali inwardly grumbled.
If only Novia were here.
How long is he planning to be gone, anyway? I just don't get it. Ever since I met him, my head's been full of questions.
Now that she thought about it—not just now—what she really wanted was for Novia to be there every single moment.
Maybe what she truly desired… was for him to join the Atlas Institute.
His design logic, his way of thinking—it all suited her perfectly. But alas, that was impossible now. He had joined another organization.
"…If I had to say something…"
Lifting the stone to her lips, the girl spoke—short, quiet, almost like she was talking to herself.
The words had already surged up into her throat. But some strange emotion swallowed them back down, carried away with her saliva.
Still, the violet-haired girl took a deep breath, ignored the heat rising across her skin, and etched her message into the stone.
"Novia… there's something I wanted to say to you.
Even if you tell me you don't need to hear it, I still want you to know—
Congratulations on achieving your goal. You're amazing.
And… I really, truly look forward to seeing you again."