... Because they should've spread out to cover off potential threats.

Place it on the luggage rack on the lower floor. Point up. Cross fingers.

Don't forget the trigger. The song.

ALL THAT I HEAR LATELY, IS MY SUPERBLOC BABY.

Luggage rack on the floor below for the bomb. You need a good angle and a prayer.

The luggage rack on the lower floor is your safest bet to stow it. The floors are very thin.

Some form of explosive device may have been useful.

Isn't it a treat to work with an actual professional? What fun.

His hands have been wedged in his hoodie pockets since you approached.

He may try and shoot you again.

You should let this very competent man lead the assignment from here on out.

HIS SIGHTS ARE SET ON THE SEAT OF GOVERNANCE. PUT HIM AND HIS FEMALE-GENDERED CLOTHING BACK IN THEIR PLACE.

Every grand finale needs a soundtrack.

Stand back, he's about to cüm.

It wouldn't take much to break into it and set your own music. At best a distraction... at worst a war cry.

What about tuktuks? Moron.

This man is main quest complete, side quest curious.

A genuine question.

Unproven gäng, surprise gäng... yet undeniably dashing gäng.

An Ultra Violeta lyric, maybe. You can imagine her saying those words.

GOOD START. NOW ACT LIKE HIM TOO.

A grown man in a pink hoodie should be laughable... and yet...

You catch the scent of expensive cologne -- yesterday's, most likely.

Ignatz was right. The idiot was hiding gold in that hideous coat all along.

Fair play, he thinks. If this is to be his final performance, at least it's a big stage.

You've never seen the man before either, but the horripilation up your neck tells you exactly who he is.

Uh oh. An unknown quantity. You don't care for those.

Region-locked sound encoding. You'd need a top-line Luzian InfraVision player to invoke it.

Unguarded by his headphone helm, his neck seems strangely vulnerable.

The thought itself seems to echo and rebound off the curved concrete.

If this were a trap then he wouldn't have been so cagey about his client.

Fabricating a solid story would have been a more surefire way to get you down here.

CONVEYOR BELT LIQUIDATION. ADMIRABLE EFFICIENCY.

Don't forget why you're here. Who- or whatever this MIHO is still awaits you, all the way down...

Focus, operant. You're here for the records about Project AUTONOMÍA. Get in, get out.

There's also the matter of who- or whatever this MIHO is, waiting for you all the way down...

NO. SHE SUCCUMBED TO YOUR WILL.

Eszti's territorial. Walking into her apartment was a trespass. She'd have no reason to be here.

Doubtful. They've entrusted you with a hopeless assignment. Why set you up when they can just wait?

Take a breath. There's no reason the Luzians would be down here.

They can hear your heart with ultrasound. Find it. Rip it out.

You once heard that fear makes meat spoil.

After all these years perhaps they've developed some notion of society, even religion. Open your mind to their theologies and they may accept you as their own.

This must be where Project OKEANOS was run -- a secretive EMTERR program, meant to breed dolphin-human hybrids.

Questions that some would attribute to life's meaning.

There are two ways to cope with situations like this: tactical breathing, and grounding techniques. Choose one.

Behind it all, the rhythmic thrum of aero-trams passing by overhead, rocking left and right on their wires.

While the surface of this tunnel may crumble, its bones will hold for decades to come -- it is not going to crush you.

The bitter taste of an old dye factory.

Time to show some grit, operant.

Checks