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Verso: We’re below the Monolith… Where he was sealed.
Maelle: Oh.
Lune: Careful.
Fading man: Aline and I. We used to understand each other. Both of us lived for the process of creation. More so than the product. Capturing the essence of an idea — half-formed, nebulous, teetering on the edge of existence. Shaping it into being. But she’s changed. She no longer cares for the act of painting, only what her painting can achieve. And she will drive herself mad trying to paint what is unpaintable.
Lune: She’s not mad, she’s struggling with grief.
Fading man: Not much daylight between the two. I live it every day. It’s why I paint. The process helps me make sense of the chaos and find my bearings. Every painting is proof that I have not surrendered to despair. But it’s no longer the same for her. Aline…
Verso: Maybe we should turn back. I sense… something powerful down this path.
Lune: Hmmm…
Maelle: Let’s go.
Lune: These swords. They look like the ones in Old Lumière.
Monoco: Ahhh. So he’s the one who felled the Axon.
Verso: Simon.
Lune: You know him?
Verso: He’s an old friend of mine. We joined Expedition Zero together. He disappeared and I thought— Looks like he met Clea. I’ll lay you to rest, my friend.
Clea: My love. These foes are beneath you. You, who have fought heaven and earth… And subdued giants… To find me. To free me from her grasp. Would you fall now to the likes of them? While your oath remains unfulfilled? Rise. Your enemies await.