"Welcome," the little sister says while lighting a candle on the altar of a faceless soldier's statue. Anyone could see themselves reflected in its anonymous bronze surface. "Thank you for approaching. Nowadays, it's rare to get attention from people of your sort."
Your sort? She contemplates you with those intriguing eyes.
"A university student. The path of books instead of the path of arms. It's sad."
Sad how? She lowers her eyelids slightly and clasps her hands near her chest.
"To lose the ticket to immortality in such a way. When it is everyone's duty to conclude the war that will end all wars."
You know your ancient history. They said the exact same thing about the first, second, and third world wars. She cracks a half-smile when you point this out; she maintains the parsimony of a saint, you can almost imagine her posing in a period painting.
"Misguided intentions and hollow efforts. They turned a means of proving courage, honor, and strength into a typhoon of barbarity where men drowned in toxic gas and were trapped for days in barbed wire."
Hearing a sister of Belichology being so critical unnerves you, as if you were witnessing a tiger enjoying a head of lettuce. But, obviously, the punchline soon arrives.
"There's a reason this is the only war that is divine. Our movement helped restore honor to the battlefield and highlight the importance of strong individuals. Centuries behind us lies the dictatorship of the soft man—the one incapable of steering the human ark through the stormy seas of our times."
You ask her name.
"Francesca."
You point out her taste for metaphors. Her half-smile turns into a full one.
Keep talking to Francesca (Scene 10)
Say goodbye and catch up with Isaac to go to the university (Scene 11)