Fuze, sitrep?
Clear.
Defenders are pretty lazy. Zero guard against us storming them, and we didn't give them any time to notify their superiors.
Good work.
Time to begin the siege.
Everyone, we have to act quickly. Don't get sloppy, and don't give the defenders any time to react.
Let's go.
Did you hear something out there just now? An explosion?
Think so.
No way those lunatics actually came crashing in...
For what? To rescue Reynell?
No more hallucinating. Catch. This one's some sorta Yanese porcelain. Might smash with a single bump. Careful.
You almost smashed it along with the entire display case just now. You turn around and tell me...
By the way, didn't our leader break that vase thing, and say he was going upstairs to report to El Capitán? How come he's still not back?
Probably still climbing the stairs, just like the first time we came.
Or he's talking with El Capitán about giving these things a home. Maybe they've even figured out how much each of them are pocketing—
Grenade out!
No hostages in the room! Take out the defenders!
The hell? You guys?
Don't wimp out! Their rapid-fire doesn't pack enough punch!
I... I'm not scared, I just want to find somewhere safe to call for reinforcements—
Don't even think about it.
Grr. Decent shot.
Shame your charges just now were too weak. Took less from that than a slug bite—
And how about now?
Wait, you're the attackers? You must be crazy to seriously—
Of course we're serious.
Ela, what's that thing you say... Clear?
Nice work, but give us a heads up next time.
Doc, Iana, keep moving per Tequila's directions to the bulk of the hostages. Hostage safety is priority one.
No rash action in a bad situation. I'll lead the others to sweep the first floor of defenders, then we'll rendezvous with you.
Copy.
Diaz, Tecno, let's go.
Diaz?
...
Look at all this art. Palladulis Throwing a Javelin—a Minoan statue. This one's a pure gold, gilded enamel revolving vase from Yan...
And a manuscript from the great Ursine author Sergei Katayev... let me see which one of his it is...
...'A Receiver Electrifying, or, In the Mire of the Heart.'
Damn it all. This is the one. Reynell has it in his collection.
He and Mateo are two kinds of scoundrels. One's blowing it up, one's selling it all... nothing but...
Whatever. We'll leave it to the next guys to sort out. Let's move.
A pulse.
A pressing pulse.
In a deathly silent room, there is but a rapidly, incessantly pounding heart, and naught else. Save for—
S—Stay back! I'm not letting you in! You come in and we'll take you with us—
(Scratching noises about the door can be heard.)
The—The noise is gone. She's gone...
Tut-tut-tut. What a scary scene.
What was this flick called...? Oh, Panic at the Museum: The Sankta Slaughter. This is the one by that Sarkaz director who lives in Columbia.
Figures they made the villain a Sankta in this one then.
Looks like Reynell's security isn't too busy most of the time. Guess all he can do is sit here watching tapes and fantasizing about murders taking place in his gallery.
Good for them, though?
The way El Capitán sees it, everyone worth anything is downstairs moving stuff already. Meanwhile you've got us, who don't really care two ways about him, and we get to sit here on cushy guard duty—
There's trouble downstairs! I want a report from anyone who knows what, ASAP!
Trouble?
There's gunfire and explosions down there! People on the sixth floor heard it! What's going on with you?! Are you blind or deaf?!
(Whisper) I told you to turn the volume down a little, but no you wouldn't.
(Whisper) Shut up, you!
I'll contact downstairs straight away!
—Ugh, nope. Not getting through.
Would I be asking you if I could?!
I want you to figure out what happened downstairs immediately! If there are troublemakers, flatten them! If they're fighting their way in, I want them out! Getting the art into the trucks is our highest priority!
Don't go, Scardullo, don't! Nobody who goes downstairs ever comes back!
That Sankta woman's gone crazy! I saw her kill everyone in a public bathroom, and now she's after our lives!
As waves of screams and shrieks emanate from the TV, the seven or eight soldiers in the one cramped surveillance room all look at each other in dismay.
Good news. Defenders in the surveillance room haven't noticed our drones.
Most hostages inside are in shock, and it appears the defenders have robbed them too, but at least there are no casualties, and emotions seem manageable.
Defenders have noticed something's not right downstairs. I assume they reported to their superiors just now, but clearly none are willing to leave what must seem like their safe little panopticon.
Good news indeed. You keep monitoring them, I'll contact Ela. We'll discuss countermeasures.
Hey? Gabi, what's going on? What the hell was all the ruckus downstairs?
I... I... don't know...
Don't know my ass! You've spent long enough, quit dawdling!
I'm—I'm just... minding my surroundings, I just got to the stairwell entrance!
Your voice is trembling, huevón! What, did the spooky movie get to you? Hahaha!
Shut up! Be... Besides, I don't see you down here! It's always like this, you guys shove everything onto me—
Huh? Gabi?
Gabi??
No! We can't let anyone else go downstairs!
Weren't you watching in the surveillance room?! That Sankta madwoman didn't even have to touch her!
She just unloaded into the receiver when Scardullo picked up, and turned her into a pile of... of...
(The sobbing begins.)
What's the situation? Have you figured it out?
Sir. We sent a man on recon... and he just suddenly stopped responding...
You useless sacks!!
S—Sir, how about you send someone else to the first floor? We... We really can't spare a single man...
No response means you keep sending people down, or I stop on the second floor to shoot you all dead before heading down there myself!
Nobody move! Out!
Phew... empty...
Every scout we've sent has gone missing, one by one—maybe the first floor's h... haunted...?
What an imagination you have. Get a little sleep for now.
Who th—
Hey? Ramon? Ramon—you—you gotta say something...
Dropped again... That's... the fourth one...
Four times, four men... every time, as soon as they get downstairs, they just...
No one picks up on that sentence.
The terminals have all been tossed into one corner of the room. On occasion, the indistinct bellows of El Capitán emanate from the pile, but nobody is giving them a response anymore.
Maybe it's because they went one at a time, so we were just feeding them one by one to—
So how many do you want to doom each time?!
...
That Sankta madwoman, her mind's not right, she's a homicidal maniac, she, she... she's outside the door! She's smiling at us through the access surveillance cam!
Mayo, just hang the intercom up. She can't get in—
She's pointing her gun at me! She... She's pulling the trigger!
All she can do is wreck the cam! Just calm down!
(A gunshot rings out.)
W—What the... Mayo... Dead? Is that a bullet hole?!
EYAAAAAAAAAAGGGH!
How... about... we... watch a different tape.
The two stare at each other with slackened gazes for a moment, before the worn-out soldier gets up, travels to another corner of the room, and grabs a random tape to shove into the recorder.
...the 'Art Investor' here from Kazimierz, let's welcome our guest today, Mr. Reynell Kowalski, the new star of Dossoles's art scene!
What did you put on this for? Are you sick?!
I didn't know they taped the TV on this one!
Switch it out, switch it out!
Hello, hello~ Pleased to meet you, new faces! And it's been a whole day, old faces! It's me, your host for this program, Eure—
I don't do this, but I'm begging you, switch it again. Listening to this presenter makes my brain hurt.
...These three tapes are all we've got.
The security guy just watches these three tapes on repeat?! What do you find if you open up his brain, soup?!
Today's episode is a special for all you tourists here in Dossoles for the first time...
The worn-out soldier firmly punches the eject button.
Let's just finish watching the movie.
You heathenly... devils... Your day of reckoning... is come...
I—I—I'm warning you, my grandpa's a big deal in Kazdel! You wouldn't wanna see his witchcraft, even in death!
Heheh, HAHAHAhahaha...
Don't you laugh so crooked—
Hahaha... witchcraft... hahahaha...
When the firmament is filled by sunlight... when all dark across the land is disappeared without a trace...
She that is the twin moons will fall upon your cagebeast cell... the dark will gush forth into your eyes... and there you will meet...
Your demise!
Inhabiting Gemini.
Shuffling emits from the center of the room.
A single soldier, biting his lip, shivering head to toe, hands clenched tight, turns his gaze away from the screen... and with a shudder, over his shoulder.
He sees, inside the room, out of nowhere... a bizarre woman.
He sees that woman's complexion and her hair, both just as pale.
He sees that woman point at him with a tremendous firearm the likes of which he's never seen before. No surveillance cam needed now. Those etched bullets can pierce straight through his heart in an instant.
He sees that woman standing there, and yet it is as though she's somewhere else entirely, as though she doesn't even draw breath.
He sees that woman whose head is crowned...
By a halo.
Don't look back, don't look back... because I am right... behind you...!!
The soldier that has looked back lets out a breathless wail, leading the others to nervously follow where his gaze has gone—
TH—THERE'S NO SUCH THINGS AS GHOSTS!!
The soldier's senses tell him his shot landed, but the bolt meets no obstruction as it continues its trajectory, passing straight through the woman's body.
Just like that, she vanishes, and only the afterimage of the halo above her head still—
EYAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGH!
Sir, report, it's a Sankta!!
The enemy's a Sankta with spatial movement Arts, she's a homicidal maniac, her mind's not right, she can shoot people dead through surveillance cam—
Urgh!
Clear.
Clear.
I didn't think just turning the lights out when the Gemini got hit would be enough to spread that much panic...
Meanwhile, on the TV in the corner of the room, the Sankta continues the silver-screen massacre.
Kill! Kill! Kill! I'll cut off your horns and hang them as chimes upon the Lateran itself!
Thank you all so much!
If you're after anything in terms of art investments, please be sure to let me—
Stop wasting breath, beat those feet!
Right, right...
Hm? Who's that you're carrying?
He got beat up for resisting, and he's still concussed. Faster if I give him a ride.
Wow. Nice to see some tough stuff among these guys.
By the way, we're in Exhibition Hall 2 of the Galería right now. Did you get to see that manuscript you wanted?
Ugh. Completely forgot about that, evacuating all these people.
Manuscript?
A Minoan bard's. Pamphlet says it's the 'highlight of the collection' for Hall 2. Know where it is?
I caught sight of it just now. It's on the other end of the hall; I can take you over if you'd like—
Lead the way, then!
Sir, you can put me down now!
You're concussed, aren't you?! Just point the way, it'll be faster!
Evac of Hall hostages almost complete.
Things went smoothly thanks to your Gemini Replicator.
(Shakes head) I didn't know we'd get a break that lucky—it was just meant to be bait, that's all. I was expecting they'd unload all their firepower on the replicate like the community people did.
All I can say is it took up a good position, and those defenders chose a good movie to pass the time.
Defenders outside the gallery are all swept now. What do we do next? Head to the third floor and rescue Ernesto?
Wait up!
You're that, um—that, er... whatever, you can't go any further that way!
What happened?
Oh, Mr. Miłosz. Not with Reynell after all, then.
No.
Situation's urgent. Tell us anything surplus after the fact. You need to leave the Galería ASAP.
You're not going to interrogate me for any useful information?
We're out of time for that.
I want to make a deal. I'll give you some information, and I'm hoping that after you have this information...
We can rescue Reynell?
Yes...
Mr. Miłosz, if Reynell hadn't set up the bombs, this terrorist attack may never have come to fruition in the first place.
Reynell couldn't wire the entire Galería with bombs on his own. He suggested the idea, that's all. I imagine you know who carried the deed out.
I know the timing on the bombs, and how to most efficiently disarm them.
And that's how you plan to coerce us?
How could I? You aren't the type to suffer coercion.
I'm just hoping my willingness to cooperate can pull together a lifeline for him.
Alright. Tell us what you know, then.
They're time bombs, set to go off this morning at 10 AM. If you want to stop them, you need to take care of four nodes along the detonator line.
One of the four is in the basement, one's in a darkroom on the third floor, one's on the balcony on the sixth floor, and one is in the ventilation shaft in Reynell's own office.
...Sounds almost true.
The one in the basement is most complicated. I suggest one of you go there with me—
I will.
Good. Tecno, take the others. Keep searching for any more places where hostages might be hiding.
Diaz, Catapult, you handle one each of the third and sixth floor nodes. Doc, Iana and I will keep heading for the top. We'll buy more time to disarm the penthouse node.
The third-floor darkroom's relatively hard to find. It's right above this hall, effectively, but getting there's a nightmare. I need pen and paper to draw a quick map of the route—
No need, I'll take it.
Ernesto!
Leave the darkroom to me and Arleta.
The sixth floor node is in the stairwell. There's a wall that'll look suspicious, and be very easy to break down.
Leave that to me.
Phew, I'm finally here, and it's just you two left. So, how do you feel seeing the manuscript—
Uh, wait, why are you carrying him now?
Urk... As soon as he saw the manuscript, he cried so hard he couldn't even breathe, and eventually passed out from his tears. It was all I could do to bear him on my back instead.
He passed out?
Doc, Doc! We need you! Someone's fainted here!
He's fine, he just cried himself out. His emotions likely overwhelmed him upon seeing the manuscript of his dreams.
Let him rest for a while in fresh air and he'll be fine.
I—If you say so...
...Miss Ela, that's every card up my sleeve. It's all yours now.
Noted.
What happens if we fail? What if we aren't able to rescue him?
In that case... I'll stay behind and keep him company.
...
I hope you can save the others before then, Miss Ela. I don't want any more people than necessary in here.
Right, I've pulled the metal casing off. Inside, there's a total of—
—Miłosz, you crackpot! There's twelve whole bomb wires here!
What? The one in the basement has over forty connections?!
Whatever, I'll settle this later.
Right now, I just need to dewire one by one, right?
Yeah. Yeah. Got it. Unscrew as fast as possible, half-connected states can send the explosives runaway easy. Understood.
Ela, how's things on your side?
Small band of resistance on the fourth floor still? Wow.
Diaz stops talking, wipes the sweat off his forehead, and focuses on dealing with the chaotic nest of wires at hand.
He has to decouple fast, and unscrew the connectors right after, using an insulator to cover up the naked wires and avoid any short-circuits.
In a trance, his days with the Singas army float through his mind, where his job was always to secure the connectors in—
Diaz furrows his brows and smacks his lips, hands never stopping. What happened then has nothing to do with now. Now, he's no more than a firefighter in the middle of bomb disposal.
The wires are more or less decoupled by now. Just two left, and all risk of explosion in this area is gone.
He's gotten a handle of how to most quickly twist these connectors off. Push down for the first half, spin slowly, then start turning with all his might for the second half until it's off.
He counts down the rotations on the second connector. Now just seven, six, five...
Seize that old man!
Two of El Capitán's men charge for the old firefighter with sabers in hand, while three crossbows are poised on the floor above.
The old firefighter's hands freeze upon the connector, and for a spell, he's somehow not sure if he's meant to twist one way or the other.