Chapter Text
"Papa, do you believe in a third choice?"
Renoir looked at the masked girl. As Alicia squeezed these words from her ruined throat, they stood on the Dark shores, surrounded by Nevrons, while the newly organized expedition was crossing the sea, heading toward their deaths.
Renoir looked up at the numbers on the distant Monolith, then back at the girl. Her single eye was wide open, looking at him with anticipation.
Anticipation.
In their immortal lives, he hadn't seen hope in her eyes for so long.
"We both know how this will end, Alicia," he began to answer. "As long as Aline is not defeated, we will all fade away. I won't let that happen."
"We are all delaying the inevitable," Alicia switched to sign language, her gaze still fixed firmly on Renoir. "Papa, in this long life, I have grown tired of losing hope."
Renoir heard the sound of the boat landing, but his daughter's words kept his eyes locked on Alicia.
"You feel different, Alicia."
Behind her mask, Alicia smiled.
"I once prayed to a god to take me back to my family," she signed.
"And she did."
──────
The rhythmic sound of Renoir's cane echoed after the expedition's boat landed.
He walked slowly until he appeared before the new expedition.
"You-" an expedition member stammered in disbelief, "-You're old." Renoir looked at him without a word.
Alicia had told him that Verso was secretly watching.
He tightened his grip on the cane.
"How did you survive the Gommage?" they asked incredulously.
He should begin the slaughter, as he had for over a decade, returning the Chroma to Aline, buying a little more time for his family.
He knew Aline longed to lose herself in the canvas, to live forever in the delusion that Verso was still alive.
Do you believe in a third choice?
For him, his son had never truly died, yet he bore the grief of that loss.
"Grief blinds us., Papa," Alicia strained her throat to speak. "Since when did we stop seeing hope?"
"...I want to believe you, Alicia, but..."
"You can." Alicia said, looking at her father with unwavering certainty.
Renoir stared at his ash-gray daughter. She radiated a light of hope he had never seen before, as if she had never been burned, as if she had never been crushed by guilt.
Renoir lowered his eyes and smiled faintly.
Facing the new expedition, Renoir raised his cane and swung it. A Nevrons screamed and fell. The other expedition members panicked, drawing their weapons in alarm.
"Before I answer your questions," Renoir's resonant voice spread across the coast, "you must first survive."
The moment his voice fell, the battle began.
In the shadows, a desperate Verso watched wide-eyed as his father acted and a gray girl wielded a rapier on the battlefield.
Father and son's eyes met. Renoir gave a slight nod.
A reconciliation.
He hoped his son would believe, as he did, in the hopeful sister on the battlefield and in the third choice they deserved.
...
──────
Even though the Painted Family did their best to assist the new expedition, they still suffered heavy casualties, though in Alicia's view, at least it was fewer than last time.
She still saw Verso leaving with Maelle, likely taking her to the manor again.
Alicia didn't dwell on it too much. As long as her brother left the message under the blue tree as well, it was fine.
Curator.
The thought flashed through Alicia's mind, and she blinked.
No. She couldn't handle that many things at once. She gritted her teeth.
One thing at a time.
At the very least, she had stopped Father.
However, as Alicia searched the beach for survivors, trying to move the unconscious members, Renoir simply watched from the side.
She glared at him with her one remaining eye.
"Help?" she gestured with her hands. Renoir raised an eyebrow and finally sighed. "I truly wish you had stayed home, Alicia."
"I won't stand by and do nothing anymore."
"Speaking of which," Renoir condescendingly hoisted another expedition member onto his shoulder, noticing the man had a prosthetic arm. "You have some explaining to do about your situation, Alicia. The last time you trusted the 56th Expedition didn't end well."
Renoir's words sent a shiver through Alicia. The girl remained silent as she carried an expedition member, walking until Renoir's eyes widened, finally realizing he'd said the wrong thing. "...Alicia..."
"I won't make the same mistake again," Alicia signed. "This time, it's destined to be different."
──────
Alicia and Renoir brought the unconscious members to a waterfall near the plains, setting up a small camp there.
"Perhaps we should leave before they wake up," Renoir suggested, roughly dropping the man with the prosthetic arm, letting him fall unceremoniously to the ground.
Alicia watched her father's action. "You should be gentler."
"My love is reserved only for family."
"He is Maelle's family."
Renoir blinked, finally looking properly at the man with the prosthetic for the first time. "...Maelle."
"He raised her. He loves her, and she loves him."
"What does that explain? That girl shouldn't have come in the first place," Renoir frowned. "She only complicates things further."
"You loved me enough to change for me," Alicia signed. "Perhaps Maelle loves him enough to change for him too."
"And how would you know that?"
Alicia fell silent. A flicker of understanding passed through Renoir's eyes.
"Of course you know," he said softly. "You've grown so much without me even realizing it."
Just as a smile spread behind Alicia's mask, an expedition member stirred from unconsciousness. Renoir immediately pulled Alicia close to him.
"We have to explain everything to them," Alicia gestured. Renoir looked down at her, his expression blank. "No."
As the girl widened her eye to protest, Renoir continued, "We'll leave first. Until they are regrouped and sound of mind. Until we have decided what to disclose, and how much." He spoke like a captain. The girl, dissatisfied but agreeing, nodded and let her father lead her away from the camp, melting into the shadows.
"Since you believe we have a third option, Alicia, we might as well be fully prepared," Renoir said, watching with Alicia from the darkness as the expedition members awoke.
"It's time to think like an expedition member, not a Dessendre."
