()||9<黑屏1>0,10BGM_EmptyAVG_amb_wilderness:This is a cramped cave in the forest, so small that even F1 has to bend down to emerge from it. F1(0)F1||262<黑屏2>:Whew~ This region's sorted. Time to wrap up! ()||:F1 takes her poem anthology out of her pack and slowly heads back toward the supply point... ()||Stop_AVG_loop:And walking through the deserted forests is the perfect time and place to recall those moving verses— F1(0)F1||2:"And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong..." +"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me." F1(0)F1||:"Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, you'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me..." +Now how did the next line go? ()???||BGM_Wake2AVG_wind_grass:"And he sang as he watched and waited till his "Billy" boiled," ()???||:"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me." F1(0)F1||:? NPC-Arla(0)||:She looks back and sees an old man leaning on a stick. His eyes are dull, and he seems to be blind. NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:My dear, I heard a thud just now. Did you drop something? NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:Oh, my poem book! I drop stuff so easily in this outfit. Thank you! But this is a battlefield, and it's dangerous for you to be here alone. NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:The whole world is a battlefield as long as the war still rages within the heart of man. +I'm old, and I don't want to move anymore. NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:Are you a poet too? I see you like "Waltzing Matilda", Gramps. NPC-Arla(0)Old Man;F1(0)||:Everybody can be a poet, don't you think? NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:Yeah, but...my friends always think the stuff I write is boring... NPC-Arla(0)Old Man;F1(0)||:Hahahaha, my dear, what do you think of this tree over here? NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:Hm, it seems very ordinary. NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:And maybe it IS an ordinary tree to you. +But to certain people who live near here, the branches are like home. NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:It's very hard for people to understand how others feel. +Some things are important to certain people, while others find it pointless, and that's perfectly normal too. NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:No matter how much science progresses, our feelings will always stay the same. NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:But many other people also like the author that I like. I-I want to be recognized too... NPC-Arla(0)Old Man;F1(0)||:Who do you think his first reader was? NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:His editor? NPC-Arla(0)Old Man;F1(0)||:No, it was himself... My guess is that he didn't expect what he wrote would move so many people. All he wanted to do was to move himself first. Whether something is boring or not is just the world's opinion, so why bother about that? NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:Even so... Wouldn't you feel a little upset if... NPC-Arla(0)Old Man;F1(0)||:So, is it the poet's work you like, or is it just his fame? NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:His poetry, of course! NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:Then you should understand. F1(0)F1||:I see... Thank you, Gramps— ()||:—There is the sound of a stomach rumbling. NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:Hah, I'm getting useless in my old age. Just a few words and I'm hungry. NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:Hm, I've never talked about poems with someone like this before. Would you like to come back and have a meal with me? I'd like to hear more— NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||<黑屏1>:Hahaha, then please forgive this rude old man, my dear. I'll have to trouble you for a bite. ()||<黑屏2>55BGM_Empty:After being tidied up by M1897, the supply point can actually fit a table in the center - albeit just barely. F1(0)F1||:I've opened it up. Please, have this, Gramps. F1(0);NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:Thank you very much. Ah, life's been so inconvenient ever since a stray bullet grazed my eyes. F1(0)F1;NPC-Arla(0)||:Which is why you didn't treat me as a Doll... F1(0);NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:What? F1(0)F1;NPC-Arla(0)||:Oh, it's nothing, I'm just happy that I get to eat with you and recommend my favorite poet to you! I think if you like "Waltzing Matilda", you'll like him too! F1(0);NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:Oh? How interesting. F1(0)F1||AVG_AMB_waves_and_seagulls_oneshot<黑屏1>:(Squeals) He's the greatest poet of this age and... ()||BGM_Hello<黑屏2>:The endless stream of excitement and gratitude flows on and on, like it's never going to end... NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:Since you obviously hold him in such high regard, I should ask for his name. F1(0)F1||:Hans. NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:...+...So it's him. F1(0)F1||:Yeah, Hans. That's his name. F1(0);NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:So, which of his pieces do you like the best? F1(0)F1||:This one— ()||BGM_Empty:F1 hands him the anthology. The title etched on the leather cover reads "Reunion in the Forest". NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:Ha, I didn't think there'd be people out there who still liked him after so long. That might not be his best work. NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:But I think it's his best one! NPC-Arla(0)Old Man;F1(0)||:To a true poet, the best poem is always the next one. NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:He's been missing for many years though. I heard he was often seen on the battlefield, and I even asked my Commander for a transfer so I could meet him... But I never found him even after searching for so long. NPC-Arla(0)Old Man;F1(0)||:Well, that's only to be expected. The traces of people in this chaotic world are like fallen leaves, going everywhere the wind takes them. NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:A human life is just that fragile, I suppose. NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||BGM_Moon:Well, a human life may be fragile, but it can also endure for quite a while. NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:Huh? It can? NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:Well, you still remember him. Doesn't that mean his life still endures, in a way? NPC-Arla(0);F1(0)F1||:But... NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:I've got a recent poem of his here. He never published it, but are you interested? F1(0)F1||:Of course! ()||:The old man takes out a pen and a yellowed notebook from his pocket. His fingers tremble a little, but the strokes of his pen are more solid than anything. F1(0)F1||:Guns and poems... I can't believe you could put such contradictory things together... +W-wow, this is amazing! Your handwriting is great, Gramps! And you can't even see, it's— Ohhhh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up... NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:That's fine. Writing's a habit to me, it's practically second nature. This might be his very last poem, so it's an honor for it to find its way to someone who can appreciate it. NPC-Arla(0)Old Man||:Well, I don't have much time left. I ought to be going. ()||BGM_Empty:The old man slowly bows by way of farewell. He tears the page out of his book and solemnly presents it to F1. ()||:F1 finishes reading it and is about to slip it into her collection of poems, but as she riffles through the pages, the book happens to open up at the afterword— F1(0)F1||:...Very often, when I write, I do not rely on my eyes and hands, but on my instincts and feelings. In this world, with publishers nearly extinct, it seems nobody wants to read printed words anymore.+Even so, I insist on publishing my work this way, perhaps these words can find their way to places where digital data cannot reach... F1(0)F1||:That's my idol for you, even his afterwords are interesting! Wait a minute— F1(0)F1||:The slight curving in the letters was a habit of his... He never liked using standard fonts, and his signature and afterwords were always printed in cursive, and this paper... This poem... ()||<震屏>:It's him! ()||<震屏>:That old man was Hans! ()||Heartbeat<震屏>:I was just sitting across a table from him! F1(0)F1||BGM_Truth:I haven't...I haven't even properly conveyed my respect for him, how could I let him just leave like that?! ()||:She can't contain herself any longer... ()||:She can't stay seated... F1(0)F1||:I need to find him! ()||:Find him! F1(0)F1||:I finally got so close to him after so long, and I... ()||<黑屏1>:F1 rips off half a page and leaves a few hastily-scribbled words behind for Gr MP5 and M1897 — "I've cleaned out the bases here, go on back without me. — F1"