Terra is a land torn apart by Catastrophes, borders, and an incurable disease known as Oripathy. Between one city and the next stretches an endless wilderness.
There is no grand event in this story. It simply holds seven short fragments of travel, of people who took to the road each for their own reasons.
One sets out to get some fresh air on a day off, one flees in a stolen car, one goes to keep a promise made twenty years ago. And yet, strangely, those roads keep pointing in the same direction.
The inspector who banged on her neighbor's door first thing on her day off
Hoshiguma is an inspector of the Lungmen Guard Department, a one-horned Oni who fights with a shield as her partner. On a rare day off, she is up at dawn picking out shoes, then banging on the door next door.
The one who opens it is her neighbor and junior, Swire. With all the mess Reunion left behind piling up, she hasn't even slept. And now that a certain 'dragon'—Ch'en—is gone, all the Guard Department's work has fallen to Swire.
The breakfast Hoshiguma brought is two servings of fried noodles. She says her hand 'just reached for it out of habit,' but with mushrooms, a vegetable stir-fry sauce, and an extra-large portion, one of them was tuned exactly to Ch'en's taste—even though Ch'en left for Rhodes Island quite a while ago.
Leaving Swire to sleep, Hoshiguma takes out her beloved ride—the motorcycle 'Partner'—and heads for a circuit on the city's outskirts. She mutters to herself that she's worried about Ch'en's foul temper over at Rhodes—
Shirayuki appears and says flatly that Ch'en is no longer stubborn and has grown more open-hearted, so there's nothing to worry about. Then she hands over a comic book—the debut work of a rookie manga artist, she says.
The protagonist on the cover is a tall figure holding a shield. It looks oddly familiar—and it's her. Guessing who must have drawn it, Hoshiguma snorts a laugh: 'What nerve.' What should she call that girl the next time they meet? 'Operator Ch'en' suits her rather well.
As Hoshiguma rides the circuit, some latest-model bike overtakes her. Admitting a complete defeat, she finds her opponent is Chief Wei's wife, Fumizuki. That flashy bike parked beneath the Chief's building, the one that never suited his taste—she only now realizes it was actually his wife's.
A stolen car, an empty fuel tank, and one piece of good news and one bad
In the middle of the wilderness, a broken-down car. Chiave, his strategist Aosta, and his assault leader Broca—three young men who call themselves the 'Chiave Family.' They've just rebelled against a boss who tried to sell them out and fled from Bite City.
Since the car is stolen, they have no camping gear, no spare fuel—nothing properly equipped. Even so, Chiave is thrilled, saying he even likes the phrase 'the road to death.'
But Chiave has Oripathy. So does Broca. Even as they blast music and crack jokes, they keep coughing up blood. Aosta acts unfazed, but he's actually the most frightened of them all.
When Chiave says that staying together all day will get him infected too, Aosta answers that he doesn't care if he catches it—because it's better than just standing by, watching the two of them suffer—
They accidentally rescue a merchant caught by robbers and flee together, the fuel runs dry, and in the end Chiave loses consciousness. That's when a Rhodes Island operator with the codename Straightedge appears. She takes the three of them to Rhodes Island's office in Locomotiva and hands Chiave over to a Medic.
All of this is an old tale told late at night in the Rhodes Island canteen, with Jaye's cooking as a side dish. The story of those days—when Aosta even gave up the car to cover the medicine—goes on into the small hours, along with the drinks.
The one who came to return a doll to a child of twenty years ago
Iris is a young lady raised in 'the Castle.' The people there invite good children to the Castle, safeguard the precious treasures the children entrust to them, and return them at the promised time—to prove that fairy tales are eternal.
Iris's first mission is to find the village of Tonnerre in Victoria and deliver the promised item to a woman named Mabel Green. A name and a few lines describing her appearance are all the clues she has, and since it happened nearly twenty years ago, the village has already been swallowed up by factories and vanished.
Wandering house to house asking after her, Iris meets Dora, a little girl with Oripathy who hides away at home. Unable to go outside, she plays only with her doll. Iris tells her a story of a castle where dolls come to life—but—
Dora shakes her head. The doll was a birthday gift from her mom and dad, and she never wants to part with it—her treasure is hers to protect, she says. In the end, unable to grant any wish, Iris can only leave an apology behind.
If the fairy found out she couldn't grant my wish, how sad would she be? So I mustn't tell her.
— Dora
The one who helped Dora was a Rhodes Island field operator who happened to be passing through the village. She points Dora's parents toward a place where the Infected can receive proper treatment. And she tells Iris that she thinks she knows who the Mabel she's looking for might be—
Though it may already be too late, she adds—so it would be best to go meet her in person. Iris's journey truly begins from here.
The sister who came to save her monastery and fell head over heels for the land
Hildegard is a nun of Laterano's Landon Monastery. With the venerable monastery on the verge of 'bankruptcy' due to financial trouble, she has come all the way to the unfamiliar Yan city of Lungmen in search of a way out.
Her goal is a contract with Mountaindash Logistics, a major Lungmen shipping company, but its head, Euril, has already prepared everything so perfectly that there's little room for Hildegard to step in. The contract goes smoothly—leaving her, if anything, a little deflated.
Instead, Hildegard roams around Lungmen, captivated by all the things she's never seen before: the timid engineer Snowsant in the room across from hers; Penguin Logistics' Texas, Croissant, and Sora drifting through downtown just to catch a single thief; an idol concert broadcast; and even Emperor, the bartender with the flamboyant way of talking.
The big picture Euril is painting is to build bridges between divided nations, with messengers leading the way. On this land that neither Catastrophes nor arrogance could fully divide, he asks, why shouldn't there be at least one road?
Hildegard postpones her scheduled return home, having grown eager to see a little more of this land. Before she leaves, Emperor passes her a note through Euril—the contact address of a certain company, marked 'Rhodes Island.'
Why is it that those who warn of Catastrophe are always resented?
A buggy heading toward a Catastrophe-warning zone. Aboard are the Catastrophe Messenger Leonhardt, his partner Ayerscarpe, and Greyy, the young Rhodes Island Caster on her first field assignment.
Following a distress signal from Rim Billiton, the three talk about what it means to be a Catastrophe Messenger. It's a thankless yet vital job—warning of Catastrophes so cities can evacuate—but when an evacuation turns out to be for nothing, people often turn cold, calling them 'ill-omened messengers.'
Greyy, wanting to repay the Rhodes Island that took her in, is anxious to shoulder heavier responsibilities. To her, Ayerscarpe says calmly:
What matters is not what you did or how great an achievement you made, but what you strove for.
— Ayerscarpe
Whether the distress signal is a rioters' trap or a genuine emergency, they won't know until they arrive. Still, the Greyy of now is ready to face whatever the outcome may be—because this, too, is a part of life that can only be seen once you leave the ship.
The 'apostle of justice' who caught the culprit, tied him up in front of the police station, and vanished
Ch'en, who left Lungmen to join Rhodes Island, is now in Columbia. She chases down an Infected man who fled after being falsely accused of murder, cornering him.
Ch'en knows he is not the murderer. But she won't let him go, saying the crime of injuring a police officer and fleeing cannot be denied. In exchange, she promises she will clear his name no matter what.
Between the moments of the story, Ch'en thinks of Amiya and Rosmontis. Who has the right to judge another? How should one treat a person who has done wrong in an unjust land?—questions without answers that she holds onto.
From the Infected man, Ch'en hears news of old Tom, who used to hate her. He fell out of favor with someone he never should have crossed, and died at the end of a private punishment. The fact that no one was held accountable for his death pains Ch'en all the more.
No one should have to bear a punishment heavier than they deserve. And if there's someone who takes that for granted, then that someone is the one who's wrong.
— Ch'en
A few days later, the true culprit is left tied up in front of the police station, along with the evidence. The tabloids buzz, calling the unidentified figure an 'apostle of justice,' but Ch'en herself is unimpressed—if the police hadn't gone after the wrong person in the first place, no such figure would have needed to step in at all.
His name cleared, the Infected man follows Ch'en empty-handed, saying he has nothing worth commemorating—as a new temporary member of Rhodes Island.
After telling their fill of Iberian ghost stories, in the real Iberia
Myrrh, Utage, and Beanstalk are out on an herb-gathering mission. Checking the map, they realize they've come all the way to near the Iberian border before they knew it. Debating whether to keep heading north, the three somehow end up holding an Iberian ghost-story contest.
A city where not a single blade of grass grows; a ghost town where the pure-gold statues are actually petrified people; a festival thrown by corpses—one eerie rumor after another pours out. Only the frightened Beanstalk stiffens up. What kind of place is Iberia, really? Myrrh wonders.
And the scene shifts to a village in the real Iberia. Antonio, a boy who stole money for his friend José's tuition, and José, who lies to cover for him. Before the two children appears an Iberian bishop.
The bishop does not scold the children. Theft and lies are both wrong, yet he recognizes that they came from hearts that cared for each other. He counsels them to ask their own hearts what leads people to do wrong, and that to point out a wrong, one must first show what is right.
The power to make Iberia—to make us—better comes from within the heart.
— Iberian Bishop
Where did all the roads lead?
The seven fragments of travel share one thing in common. Their beginnings are all different—a circuit on a day off, a fugitive's wilderness, a Victoria visited to keep a promise, a nun's search for a way forward, a Catastrophe zone, a back alley in Columbia, the Iberian border—yet those roads keep converging in a single direction.
One is treated by Rhodes Island and becomes a member; one takes Rhodes's hand; one tucks Rhodes's address into a pocket. And some, like Ch'en, have already boarded that ship. Even upon this divided land, the roads always led somewhere after all.
There is no grand event, no spectacular ending. Simply people who took to the road carrying their own stories, quietly brushing past one another and reaching out a hand at the road's end. As long as the roads never break off in this divided land, the stories will go on too.