84 INT./EXT. HELICOPTER - EVENING (FLYING)

Joseph is in chains, sitting in the back of one of the helicopters escorting them back to the Fifth City. Three Warpriests are present, and Solomon and Aether are opposite him. They do not make eye contact. Sophia is standing, staring wistfully out the door toward the burning city.

SOPHIA

I can only hope that you are finally willing to do your duty and complete The End.

AETHER

If I become the God that you want me to be...

She cuts herself off.

AETHER

I'll do it. I don't have any guilt about ending something cruel.

SOPHIA

It's good to see you've come around. I wasn't expecting you to change your mind so easily.

AETHER

I didn't change my mind. I started to believe in something, and then there were... new facts.

SOPHIA

Those do have a tendency to teach you things. It makes one strong. If the First God had but a little more time to learn the concept of an enemy, it would have overwhelmed me in one fell stroke. It took my strongest blow, and see how little it cares. That is the power of perfection, of a pure machine.

Solomon looks up.

SOLOMON

Pure machine? As opposed to what?

SOPHIA

An impure machine. Like human beings, for instance.

SOLOMON

Can you really call something with free will a machine?

SOPHIA

What is "free will"? Interrogate it, and you will find the concept is nonsensical at its core. An undefinable myth. Will exists, but freedom is impossible while we are imperfect. We are slaves to our inborn sins and our accumulated fallacies. An infant has nothing but instinct. It develops its intelligence based on its experience. But those experiences are inherently flawed. The senses are imperfect. They cannot comprehend all things necessary for true understanding, only a facsimile. The intelligence becomes flawed, and we are locked away from truth. The only flawless will is a random one, born from chance, with no coherent motivation nor direction. The only truly free human is one unbound from the limits of their own intelligence. Your eyes can be mistaken in what they see. But a blade has never once been mistaken in cutting, nor a wheel in turning. That is perfection.

Solomon has no answer, simply watching as Sophia continues to watch the burning city.

85 INT. FIFTH TOWER - STUDY - NIGHT

Photine is giving a final diagnostic report to Saul. The desk is largely empty - the paperwork is long since done - with only the foetus jar left.

PHOTINE

Aether is intact. Her circuits were damaged, but only minimally. We're in the process of repairing them using intact material from Solomon. She'll be ready to go on the day.

SAUL

Then everything is resolved, Lord Photine?

PHOTINE

Everything.

SAUL

It's been a long few days. You should get some rest.

PHOTINE

So should you.

She turns to leave, and then stops.

PHOTINE

Lord Saul. I've been meaning to ask for a while.

SAUL

What's that?

PHOTINE

The jar... What... is that?

Saul looks to it.

SAUL

Ah. It's probably a little morbid. My late wife passed away while carrying, you see.

PHOTINE

And that's...

SAUL

Yes. I keep him preserved here so that I can take him with me on our ascension.

PHOTINE

Will that work?

SAUL

I have no choice but to hope.

PHOTINE

I see. I can understand that. My apologies.

She exits the room, leaving Saul alone with the jar.

86 EXT. FIFTH CITY - SQUARE - DAY

The CLOCK is ticking. There is little over one day to go.

87 INT. FIFTH TOWER - HOLDING CELLS - DAY

Photine enters a small room crammed with tightly-packed cells - the bed takes up more than half the space in each one. They are almost empty, save for two - Joseph and Solomon, side by side. Sophia is standing outside the cells, helmet under her arm. She turns to look at Photine on her way in.

PHOTINE

Lord Sophia, it's time.

SOPHIA

I was just informing the nihilist of his fate. Ritual sacrifice seems fitting, don't you agree? A shame we can't do the same to the spare.

Joseph, curled up in the corner of his cell, only shoots a glare.

SOPHIA

For endangering our salvation, execution is the only appropriate punishment. You will not see the perfect world.

JOSEPH

The perfect world is gone. I didn't realise it was there until I lost it.

PHOTINE

You must be the one who Aether talked about.

SOPHIA

A fool to the last. Perfection is what the Gods do. They are righteousness incarnate. Right is derived from them. That which opposes them is evil by definition.

PHOTINE

(softly)

We have to have hope, don't we? That's why we pray.

JOSEPH

Bullshit.

Photine is taken aback by his response.

JOSEPH

I've seen a God. Sure, you made them real. You're weren't about incorrect being able to make them. But you're still . "Salvation" means nothing wrong to me. Don't you tell me that dare you're right.

SOPHIA

It's a pity to see one so lost.

JOSEPH

Maybe I am. But you can't argue with me, because the "perfection" you've been chasing only exists in your mind.

BEAT.

PHOTINE

I see. "There's no equation for good", is that right?

SOPHIA

Lord Photine.

PHOTINE

It's nothing. We should get going, Lord Sophia. You need to hold a mass.

Sophia shakes her head, and the two exit the room, leaving Joseph alone with Solomon.

SOLOMON

When did you get the balls?

Joseph doesn't respond.

SOLOMON

Sounds like you know more about perfection than I do. Funny how things work out.

The two sit in silence, back-to-back with the cramped cell walls in between.

88 EXT. FIRST-THIRD BORDER - NIGHT

A Last Star soars overhead, passing over a cataclysmic clash between the Fire and gleaming white WATER, spanning as far as the eye can see. It reaches the Fourth TOWER, and everything in sight is petrified into white STONE. Above, a divine WIND roars. The stone begins to turn to mud and lava - the four elements rage violently for supremacy.