Clain is helpless behind a clear wall as Barrot details Phryne’s role in the system, but the priest’s demented rant is cut short. As the temple begins to collapse and Nessa starts to fade, the future of Fractale—and all of mankind—lies in Phryne’s hands.
I can see your pitiful face on the window.
.أستطيع رؤية وجهك البائس على النافذة
Dein verheultes Gesicht
spiegelt sich im Fenster.
Un visage bien triste
se reflète dans la vitre.