A petite Zalak gropes around in the darkness as she traverses the pitch-black plate layer.
Hmm... I see how it is.
The structure and systems look complex, but once you figure out the theory behind it...
Even a prop-maker can operate it.
For example, here, adjust its direction first...
Then set a time, pull down the lever, open the gate, and...
Done.
Good, just like I thought.
This way, I'll have nothing to worry about even if something unexpected happens.
Now, there's just one last thing to do...
I need to go find her.
I'm sure you have reservations, Lucian.
The plate's in a crisis, and everybody's in danger. I wouldn't trust a cold-hearted producer who is demanding the shoot go on either.
We do not need to trust each other.
Heh. You're not wrong.
In my twenty years in Wrankwood, I've never trusted a single person I've worked with. I trust only in my own judgment.
I invited Melanie right when she most needed an opportunity. I saw right away at that auction that you were an acting genius. And I was sure Abner would join the crew even though he hates my guts.
...I even still believe that Laura's death five years ago was the only way to save that movie.
You had nothing to do with the accident, but you still made use of her death.
She was a talented rookie. Eager, hardworking, and full of passion for cinema. It's just that sometimes, that enthusiasm got to her head, and made her break a few rules.
Steven was still green back then, and the shoot wasn't going as planned. Halfway through the project, I knew that film would burn through all my assets and leave my reputation in tatters.
I needed an 'external factor' to help me solve that crisis.
Laura's death.
Using the media to hype up the accident would be too predictable. Those busybodies would just sigh and forget all about it the moment they moved on.
So I used a lot of money to squash the police investigation and media's attention, along with a healthy amount of hush money to Laura's family.
I got the editor to keep the footage of the fall that Abner captured on camera, and turned it into the climax of the film.
Even now, there are some people who still think she was just an acting genius who retired early.
You covered up her death.
I immortalized her in film.
Someone will eventually notice what you did.
Every year, on the day of her sacrifice, I go visit her. Five years, and I'm the only one who brings flowers to her grave.
Do you not feel guilt?
I'm certainly to blame for it. But now's not the time for repentance.
Right now, there's only one thing on my mind: finishing this film.
Once The Death of Lady Dupont is screening, the murders on set are bound to get the media's attention. I'll take that chance to officially release the truth behind Laura's death.
When that time comes, there will be a lot more people grieving for her. And that's when I'll bear the blame.
......
I hope you realize that I didn't confess all that to you on a whim.
You want to use the truth to make a deal.
When I first met you, I thought it was fate throwing me a bone, dropping a big present on my lap before shooting started.
But it was your behavior after you joined the crew that proved to me you are no ordinary man.
Dalton died right in front of you, but you kept your cool. You even looked forward to future filming.
After you discovered my plans to film a Catastrophe, you took the perfect opportunity to leak those plans to the camera assistant most likely to spill them.
And now with the crew officially dismissed, almost everyone is feeling desperate. Except you. You were waiting in your room for me to visit, as if you're no stranger to sudden death and tragedy.
Who are you exactly, and why did you agree to join my film crew?
I was enticed by your script. No more and no less.
Sure.
The way things are now, interrogating you about your history isn't going to help my shoot, but I was hoping you would repay my honesty in kind.
I still believe in my vision, Lucian. No matter what I find out about you, no matter how suspicious, I will never withdraw my invitation for you to be my male lead.
But—
If you really can't explain why you're here, if you've got your sights on something way over my head...
If you think Laura's death and everything it's caused five years down the line are the real 'story' being filmed on this plate, and you're here for that...
Then I, Greta Stone, would like to invite you again.
Please be our next 'leading man', Lucian.
If that is your wish... then it is mine as well, Madam Stone.
'...Greta... sent out compensation to everyone and officially disbanded the crew.'
'Whether you're scared of the killer, worried about the Catastrophe, or want to stay and finish the shoot, we're all free to do as we please.'
Finish the shoot? Greta is still thinking about her movie right now?
She must have noticed the connection between the murders of the crew and the one five years ago.
So she's doing it on purpose...
'Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn, and I don't see why you should either.'
'Or, as Greta said, you can leave the truth to whoever feels like playing detective.'
The truth?
The cast and crew both mercilessly bully newcomers. The producer even massaged a tragic and fatal fall into a scene that straddles the line between truth and lie.
If you will not repent for what happened five years ago, nor make your deeds known to the public...
Do you believe yourself innocent, Greta? Have you forgotten how you edited Laura into your film, all so she could die over and over again with every showing?
You must pay the price.
......
A bulge on the bed is faintly outlined by the dim nightlight. The person beneath the blanket is fast asleep, ignorant of the judgment about to fall upon her.
Fast asleep? That desecrator of the dead, forgetter of sins, ignorer of warnings... How could Greta sleep so soundly?
Someone quietly creeps closer to the bed, pulling a razor-sharp dagger out of a sleeve. Slender fingers grip its hilt tightly, lifting the terrifying weapon high into the air.
I don't even want to hear your confession! I don't even want to hear your screams! Just go away already! You must PAY!
This feeling... It's not right...
The blanket is lifted up. There is nobody under it, aside from a black shadow.
A shadow? How can a shadow exist on its own?
The intruder steps back a bit, as the shadow slowly condenses into a familiar shape.
...Miss.Christine?
A trap...
So we finally meet.
I welcome you, my elusive guest.
Is it really... you?
......
Moira... The most dedicated member of the crew was actually a three-time murderer...
It should have been four.
......
When did you find out, Lucian?
The first to notice your abnormal behavior was Miss.Christine, not me.
In that very first scene after I joined the cast, she intruded upon the shoot.
She rarely approaches anyone other than me, but she approached you.
Since then, she has made contact with you many times.
Tippi believed she decided to accompany you as you watched movies in the prop room because she likes the both of you.
That is only half correct.
Miss.Christine was only ever interested in you.
Look. Even now, even as you hold that dreadful dagger, she still stands by your side.
!
Ridiculous...
Don't tell me that's your only reason to suspect me? Just because this mysterious creature is fond of me?
Or maybe she only does what you tell her to. She is your pet, after all...
Moira looks into Miss.Christine's deep, blue eyes.
The very next moment, she no longer has conscious control over herself.
Joy, sorrow, anger. All sorts of emotions roil through her heart, before finally settling into a blank void, one that terrifies anyone looking upon it.
You continue to misunderstand her.
As I have explained before, none may interfere with her intentions and actions.
I did not merely mean that she is free-spirited by nature, but rather, nobody has the 'ability' to interfere with her.
It is she who possesses the 'ability' to influence others.
The mysterious black creature nonchalantly licks her paws.
Moira finds it difficult to reconcile the Miss.Christine she sees now with the enormous pressure she felt earlier.
Miss.Christine is extremely sensitive to emotions. No carefully buried pain or flicker of malice escapes her notice.
Over countless years, she has wandered across all of Terra, tasting the entire spectrum of feeling.
Rather than any particular flavor, she prefers a blend.
And her judgment is derived from instinct rather than logic. It does not err.
Solving a murder without even discovering a motive. Should I congratulate you?
Vengeance.
......
For who?
For that ghost entangled in the minds of the majority of the crew.
......
Madam Stone, the one who stands before you now is a relative of that rookie actress Laura, who fell to her death five years ago.
One who loved her dearly. Her little sister.