Falsche/Stories
Late one night, Alk finds Falsche going through items she's retrieved from the Kaleidoscope. He learns that she uses her ability to sense the final emotions of their fallen owners and return the items to those dear to them.
Alk: Whoa, look at the time. I bet everyone's already asleep.
Alk: Still, it's oddly quiet here.
Falsche: Alk.
Alk: Gah!
Falsche: Sorry. It's just me.
Alk: Phew, Falsche... What are you doing up so late?
Falsche: I'm organizing these items. I found from corpses.
Alk: Oof, kind of sorry I asked...
Alk: Ah, but that's your job, isn't it, Falsche?
Falsche: Yes, I retrieve items from fallen Kaleidoscope explorers. And give them to their next of kin.
Falsche: Forgive me. If you find it unnerving.
Alk: Uh, no—heh—I mean it IS weird, but now I've gotten used to it.
Alk: After all, I've made a dead friend myself, haven't I?
Falsche: That's an actual scary thought.
Alk: Not at all! He's a pretty nice guy!
Alk: Anyway, there's a lot of stuff here. Is your job done once you find all of the rightful owners?
Falsche: I'm afraid not. I need to inform the next of kin. About the deaths of their loved ones.
Alk: Really? Why go that far?
Falsche: This dagger. For example. Belonged to a woman who died saving her companions.
Falsche: She saw her friends running away. To safety. She felt relieved. Though she was dying.
Alk: Does that mean you can hear the voices of the dead?
Falsche: No. Not exactly. I can only sense their final emotions.
Falsche: People have many feelings. Some are hard to put into words. Some are painful to express.
Falsche: But their stories must be told. Regardless.
Alk: You're really considerate, Falsche!
Falsche: Considerate? Perhaps. I only do. What comes naturally.
Alk: Sure, it's a great ability you have.
Alk: But you're using it to carry out a super important job. I don't think many people would be that kind.
Falsche: Ah. Um. Thank you.
Falsche: It's rare for people to praise me. Usually. They run away.
Alk: But you value this work, right? Why else would you rescue mementos from unfortunate adventurers?
Falsche: ...Yes. You are right.
Falsche: I take pride in my work. A lot of pride.
While tending to his wounds, Falsche asks Nimbus if he is prepared to die. Fearing that she may pass before finding her own family, she asks for him to pass on a message to them for her. However, he assures her that she won't die so easily—not on his watch, at least.
Falsche: Nimbus... You feeling okay?
Nimbus: Yeah, it's just a scratch. I can still fight, no problem.
Falsche: Ahem, Nimbus. May I ask you a question?
Nimbus: Uh, go for it?
Falsche: When you die. What do you want to leave behind? And to whom?
Nimbus: Wow... You've got great bedside manners, you know that?
Nimbus: Not that I haven't given it some thought or anything...
Falsche: So. If your time comes unexpectedly. You'll be okay? You won't have regrets?
Nimbus: What, it's like you're half-expectin' me to say I'm not ready to go. Just spit it out.
Falsche: If you're scared of death. But you don't prepare for it. You'll only end up leaving regret behind.
Falsche: You need to decide what to pass on. Sooner rather than later. Because the reaper. Will not wait.
Nimbus: Fair enough. Let's just say I was more than ready to face him before, but he didn't come for me.
Nimbus: So I'll do what I want, when I want. And if I go down along the way, well, I'm sure someone'll come pick up my bones.
Falsche: I see. You carry few burdens, Nimbus. I doubt you'll have any regrets.
Nimbus: Guess we'll find out. But now it's your turn—are you ready to see the big man in the sky?
Falsche: ...Yes. I have to be. There are people I must see again.
Falsche: So. If I die. I need you. To visit them in my place. And tell them I loved them.
Nimbus: Humph. That's not a plan I can get behind.
Falsche: What?
Nimbus: You want those to be your last words? I can barely stand to hear 'em myself.
Nimbus: Maybe it's because you're too young to understand, but you'd better handle your business while you're still breathing.
Falsche: But. Death wants for no—
Nimbus: Death, shmeath. You're not gonna die, okay, Falsche? Not while I'm around.
Falsche: ...Nimbus. That's an impossible promise.
Nimbus: Humph. Just watch me. Yeesh, "be prepared"—you sound like you're selling insurance...
Falsche: Very well. Promise me you won't die either, okay?
Falsche: ...I don't want anyone else to leave me behind.
Nimbus: Sure thing... As long as you keep busting your hide to stay alive! Now, let's move!
Falsche: Lead the way... Mom. Dad. It looks like I'll come see you while I'm alive after all.