White Heat

...Sorry.

Don't worry about it. Laura's already packed your bags.

It's not that... I...

I'm... here to say goodbye.

Goodbye?

Are you applying for temporary leave?

...I guess?

And your reason for doing so?

Personal reasons. There's some personal stuff I have to do, no matter what.

And how long will you be gone?

I don't know. Maybe a week, maybe a year...

Did you hit your head? Do you really expect us to grant temporary leave for up to a year?

If that isn't an option, then... can I hand in my resignation?

You're quitting?!

...

Ah, right. You said from the start that you're here to say goodbye. And goodbyes don't need an application.

I don't know what brought this on all of a sudden, but I need to remind you: If you leave the team, everything you've worked so hard for in Blacksteel will likely go up in smoke.

Whatever it is you need to do, are you willing to trade all of your efforts until now for it?

...

These are the last explosives left in the mine. Let's go grab 'em.

Okay.

I'll do the inspection. You go ahead and rest for now.

Um, Leone...

What is it?

Are you sure about this...? About blowing up the furnace?

I know I shouldn't be saying this, but you were so reluctant when we talked about blowing up the energy tower...

If we don't blow it up, how else are we gonna seal the secret passage and hide Helena's whereabouts?

...

As for what I personally think... It ain't important. Don't matter no more.

Ain't a single thing left in Davistown that can be fixed up.

But if we get that money, there's still hope for us, someday down the road. Out on the frontier. Right?

...There will be. For sure.

Heh. Hope. Hope... Who knew one last glimmer of hope would be so damn expensive?

But for this last bit of hope, for this ticket not to reach the end of the line today... I have to accept that, even if it costs me my life.

I have no idea what you're trying to accomplish, Jessica, but can you guarantee you won't regret it?

...

When using the welding gun, pay attention to the angle between it and the weld. Holding it too high causes spattering, and makes it easy to get hurt.

For a woman who runs a diner, you sure know way too many things.

Heh. I spent more than two decades traveling across grand ol' Columbia. I had a lot of choices.

...When you got dumped, did you ever think about going home?

Dumped?

Oh, I get it. Leone must've gotten the wrong idea.

Nah, I'm the one who dumped him. He ended up being a real by-the-books sorta fella... Didn't suit that gruff face of his one bit.

Back then, I was dead set on travelling across Columbia with him, but he thought I was too wild... Still, we supported each other across the barrens, and I ain't saying it was a bad life.

But one night, he suddenly proposed to me. Said he couldn't stand all that wandering no more, and he wanted to settle down on some plate.

Going through the same motions in the same place, over and over again? I couldn't imagine a worse punishment.

So I turned him down, left him all my money and possessions, and told him I'd make a terrible wife. Then I mounted my burdenbeast and rode off into the sunset.

But... you still ended up in Davistown.

In his letter, he said he'd finally fulfilled his old dream, and wanted me to drop by to visit.

So I came here, thinking the whole trip about how to turn him down in a way that'd let him keep his middle-aged dignity.

But... you know the rest. I was too late. He'd already passed away.

And then you inherited his diner and stayed...

I didn't inherit it, I recaptured it. It'd been ransacked by a gang of thugs. Must've fought off at least fifteen of 'em.

Huh?

That's how life is. Romantic stories ain't always have romantic reasons. More often than not, the journey is just the punchline.

All these years... Have you ever had any regrets?

Regrets?

Like, for eloping, for breaking up, for not being able to see him one last time. Or for staying behind in Davistown... Stuff like that.

Nope.

I feel bad about a lot of things, but I wouldn't say I regret 'em.

I've enjoyed the results of my choices, and accepted the costs. All with complete peace of mind.

...I don't know.

You made such a huge decision without even thinking it through?!

That's not what I mean. I've given a lot of thought to your questions, and I've heard other people's answers too. In a sense, I even agree with them.

But I can't just regurgitate what they said and let them make my choices for me... Because in the end, their answers aren't mine.

I don't know if throwing away my past life is too steep a cost. I don't know if I'll regret this later, nor do I know what'll happen to me in the future.

But despite all that, I have to do this.

I understand.

Nevertheless, I have to reject Jessica Brynley's request to be temporarily discharged from the team.

I see... Then I'll have to resign.

Jessica...

Liskarm... Captain?

Even the slickest, most experienced veterans who don't give two shits about their job wouldn't throw around the word 'resign' as casually as you do.

But I also have to imagine that maybe what I'm seeing here is... a Jessica who's finally cast aside her fears and self-doubt. A Jessica who's truly found herself.

I still object to your decision, vehemently, but if you've made up your mind...

I'm sorry. I really am...

Give it a break already.

...And stay safe out there.

Jessica...

I'm sorry, Laura.

To tell you the truth, I had an inkling this would happen when I couldn't contact you. But if you've already made up your mind, can I get one last hug? Think of it as a parting gift.

(*whispers*) Wait until we're gone to read it.

(*whispers*) Take care... Stay safe.

Anything else we need to do, Captain?

No.

Then... let's get going.

Woodrow, are you and Leone really going to be safe out there in the woods? After the heist, there will definitely be a bunch of people after you.

You really need to start thinking about your own future, instead of fretting over us geezers.

...I haven't given it much thought. Maybe I'll have plenty of time to figure it out from a jail cell.

Not planning on staying a mercenary?

I just don't want to spend the rest of my life on a battlefield.

Jessica... Whether you decide to keep fighting or to put the battlefield behind you, I just hope you won't blame yourself for not finding an answer.

What did you end up choosing?

After the Revolutionary War, I stumbled around blindly for a long, long time. Until I finally decided to live a boring life, day by day.

Does that really count as an answer?

Why not?

Just 'cause you're the only one who thinks so, doesn't mean it's wrong.

You're still young. Got a long road ahead of you.

Will I... find my answer?

Five, six, seven...

The back of the eighth board is hollow...

Sorry, I'm not late, am I? I needed some time to sort through my gear.

It's fine. We still got five minutes.

Where'd you get all this stuff?

A parting gift from a friend.

Then I'll have to give 'em a right-and-proper thank you if we ever meet again.

One last run-down. After we go through the door, Helena and Leone are in charge of clearing any obstacles and grabbing the money. Jessica and I will be on crowd-control, then we catch up afterwards.

Once the deed is done, Helena takes the money with her through the secret passage, while the rest of us draw attention away from her. Any questions?

If only there were more explosives... We oughta give that bank a little surprise.

Settle down. If the info we got from Sylvia is correct, we'll need to save most of them to breach the last door.

The key to our success is speed. We don't have much time. The mercs on duty will be back in half an hour.

Even if we can get the job done in that time, the explosion will definitely attract Blacksteel's attention. However, most of the mercenaries are back on the landship tonight, and it'll take them time to arrive.

If it comes to that, just leave it to me. I'll buy you the time you need.

Time to go.

Who the hell are you—!

Hands off the alarm.

Aaaaaagh—

This is a robbery.

As long as y'all cooperate, nobody's getting hurt or dying tonight.

No way... How is this happening—

Shh... See, you're in the same boat as the other young lady over there. This is your one warning. We won't be so kind next time.

Now then, folks. Just don't panic, and follow our instructions.

Those are the conditions for your survival.

...

Seeing how there are no objections, why don't y'all mosey on over to the main lobby and squat down with your hands on your heads.

We all know each other here. No funny business.

Now move it!

You'll need to pass through a total of four doors to get to the vault. The first is the door to the reception area, which needs a key, but any employee can get it.

The second is a passcode lock in the reception room. The code changes every day, but there are certain rules.

From what I've gathered, today's code should be...

Perfect. The reception room key works.

Next up is the secret door... Behind the tapestry to the right of the entrance... Over here. Looks like Sylvia was right on the money.

Seven, nine, four, four, six, one... It worked? Well I'll be damned. That girl's got one good head on her shoulders.

What's next...

Inside the vault, there are two more doors. One's a security fence, the other is a vault door weighing dozens of tons.

The security fence can be broken through by force, but because it's connected to the security system, the only safe way through is via passcode.

The code is split into three parts, one for president, one for the manager, and another randomly generated by a cipher.

The cipher is located in a safe inside the reception room, and you'll have to force that one open.

How'd it go? Didn't damage anything inside the safe, did you?

Mint condition.

Can't believe your skills haven't rusted after not using 'em in years.

...

What's the matter? That was an invitation for you to start bragging. I mean, ain't nobody else in this town with your skillset.

Don't mind me. Just worried how Woodrow's doing...

...And that's number twenty-two. Now you're all tied up.

Next up is—

I never imagined these would be the circumstances we'd meet again in, Miss Brynley...

I'd recommend worrying about your responsibilities first.

Also, I've heard this bank keeps a series of secret numbers, two of which are held by you and this gentlemen here. I hope you're both willing to cooperate.

Now take a walk with us. If you're not feeling cooperative, well, guess I'll have to shoot you.

Pick up the pace!

Good evening, you two.

H-Helena?! Wh-What's the meaning of this?

You got nothing to fear, sir. I just wanted to ask you a few simple questions.

Will you tell us the passcode, or do we tie you to this door and blast you both to pieces? Your choice.

Friendly reminder: it is not a crime to reveal secrets under life-threatening duress.

You damn thugs—

Five.

Don't even think about it. You bastards don't deserve a single penny! You all deserve to rot out in the frontier!

Four.

You complacent idiots put all your eggs into the mine, yet still have the gall to whine to the bank after getting wiped out!

Three.

Nobody gives a damn about your rotten minerals. It's the era of high tech and automation now! Your only value to Columbia is to be thrown out to the frontier, the sooner the better!

Two.

You filthy, uneducated hicks! You idiots don't even have a damn clue what numbers mean! Serves you right for getting tricked!

One.

Sixfivefourseveneightfour!

Hah... Never seen anyone spit out a string of numbers that fast.

Okay, now that your boss has squealed, it's your turn, ma'am.

Give me the passcode, or die.

Hurry up and tell them already! Do you really want to die here?!

...Mr. Theremin, what would you even do with the money? Do you seriously think you can get rid of us and start over out on the frontier?

Of course you can't. We're everywhere. We will follow your footsteps, and find you no matter where you go.

The money you steal will smell as sweet as honey. And soon enough, our local associates will swarm all over you to eat it up.

And with the promise of a few extra benefits, they'll even personally deliver your heads to us on a silver platter—

What's the goddamn passcode?!

*cough*, *cough*...

Three... six... eight... six... five... four.

Go on, take it. You won't accomplish a thing, my friends.

Nothing will change. This tragedy is doomed to happen again and again—

Shut up.

Shut up? It is human nature to be greedy, and Mr. Theremin here is a prime example. Had he not been so eager to cling onto things that never belonged to him—

You shut your mouth!

How far you've fallen to mingle with this sorry lot, Miss Jessica Brynley.

Leone Theremin here could have left this place ages ago. Taken his children with him to Ironforge City, Nulaiteburgh, or Bunkerhill...

What kind of blasting engineer wouldn't be able earn enough to put food on the table? How else would he have ended up like, if not for his greed?

You...

Leone, she's right! The door's open!

...

Sorry, I meant... she gave us the right passcode.

I know... It's fine. I know.

If you manage to open the first three doors, congratulations. The last is merely an extra credit question. It appears the most complicated, but the solution is the simplest...

Blast it open.

Leone, how are the explosives?

Primed and ready.

Do it.

Breathtaking...

...Lord almighty, I've never seen this much money in my life.

But it's also nothing compared to what the bank has bled from us.

No time for idle thoughts, folks. Start filling those bags. We got more than enough to keep us busy.

...

Don't just stand there gawking... What are you thinking about?

Nothing in particular. It's just...

This is the first time in my life I've ever wanted money so badly. It feels new... and exciting.