"All sleeping soundly here, CASCADE... Any luck with those brakes?"

"All sleeping soundly here, CASCADE... Any luck with those brakes?"

He adjusts his luminous visor and cranes his neck to the front of the tram.

"Impressive metaphysical nuke you set off there, CASCADE."

Your former double stands amidst the bodies, unharmed and unperturbed.

"Let me be straight -- did you mean to eradicate me along with the rest?"

"Of course not. We were outnumbered and outgunned."

"Fair enough..." He looks at you suspiciously. "I suppose the Big Table demands Big Plays."

"How did you dodge it?"

"Inter-matter phasing, of course. Head and shoulders sub-carriage. Though I would've appreciated a little more advance warning, CASCADE. Close call."

Look, his hair's a bigger catastrophe than usual -- he just stuck his head out of the window.

Why didn't everyone do that, then? This may well have been high-level psychogenic stagecraft.

"What's the upstairs situation?"

"All our enemies are smoked."

"I'll bet."

"Something an old Remembrancer hand said to me once... death must find you in the strangest circumstances possible. So she has something to remember you by."

The tram wires crackle above you, as if charged with new energy.

He nods at PSEUDOPOD, standing rigid, feet together, trembling slightly.

"The fact that it's still upright and largely unfazed is a concern -- I'd shoot it twice in the back of the head before we disembark."

"Speaking of which... I assume the driver's also spiritually discontinued. One of us better locate the braking system."

"Glad you made it, HOLOCENE."

"Thank you, CASCADE. If I had to, uh, pick two people on this tram to pull through, I would, you know... definitely be..."

He loses conviction in his words and instead motions awkwardly between the two of you.

Say nothing.

"This will definitely have a profound effect on your assessment results, by the way. Could go either direction, but I'm currently leaning positive."

"Your conceptual friend there..." He nods at PSEUDOPOD's quivering body. "Odd look on its face... like it was going home."

"It's beautiful."

"It was, wasn't it."

"Horrifying."

"There was a kind of grace to how they went, though..."

"Total wipeout. Friends, foes, innocents."

"Collateral psychic damage. Who's counting?"

Wow. An under pressure phase. He really pulled it off, right when it mattered.

"Obviously not. You're looking at total operation secrecy. M.I.H.O. alone survive."

"... The trust you show in your director is appreciated."

"As soon as this tram stops, I'm prepared to either play dead or vacate rapidly. Your call, CASCADE."

He presses a red hand against his bullet wound and nods once at you.

"CASCADE. Very close one."

Your former double pushes his gun into his distressingly short shorts and wipes his hands on them.

His luminous yellow visor is stained with bloody fingerprints.

"Not at all. I knew you'd come through."

"M.I.H.O. will not be routed by these mega lame Weeping Eye clown-jobs on our debut assignment."

Nothing to do with M.I.H.O. If it came to it, he would've taken ten more bullets on his way to you.

"Having to be bailed out mid-theatre by your superior though... won't look too compelling on your assessment results."

He grimaces and clutches his side. Blood leaks between his fingers.

"You've been hit."

"Single bullet. Bad aim." He glances at the wound. "I am not afraid."

"The Existential Threat fell out of the window, by the way. Utterly soundless as it plunged, arms clamped to its sides."

"Going out the only way he knew."

"Harrowing."

He runs a hand across his hair and gets blood in it.

"I was, uh... concerned for a moment... Scared, even. About what I might find up here."

"I'm very glad you made it, Hershel."

"Did you try and help him?"

"I was attending to myself, then my M.I.H.O. special asset. Dual tasking impossible."

"..."

"Don't take this personally, CASCADE, but if it hadn't self-terminated, I was planning on shooting it myself."

"The Existential Threat fell over the railing, by the way. It screamed as it went down."

"Poor PSEUDOPOD..."

"I think it's happier now."

"Did you try and help him?"

"I was attending to myself, then my M.I.H.O. special asset. Dual tasking impossible."

"Probably for the best."

"As if it knew it was a conceptual mistake. Suicidal impulse kicked in at exactly the right time."

"The Existential Threat survived, by the way. Near-miraculous."

"I knew I'd pull through."

"It's still not too late to execute it."

"Did you try and help him?"

"I was attending to myself, then my M.I.H.O. special asset. Dual tasking impossible."

"No miracle. I had to perform a psychic hijack."

"Fascinating. I look forward to your theatre report. On my desk in forty eight hours or less, please."

"I got shot too, don't worry. We'll make it."

"We may be forced to ready tools for another extraction or two..."

His eyes, while not quite lighting up, definitely kindle at the prospect.

"At least I didn't get shot. That must count for something."

"Very good, CASCADE, no need to rub it in my face. Well done for not getting shot, then, good job."

"I blew them to bloody chunks! I aced this thing!"

"Compelling point..." He looks around. "Yes, the bomb was pretty impressive, CASCADE. M.I.H.O. officially hands it to you."

"You put that bitch down."

"All the way down, and happy to. Extremely grating presence."

"I thought I was dead."

"Not as of yet." Half a smile. "We'll both have to endure that inconsistency a while longer."

"I thought I was wanged."

"Nice shot, HOLOCENE. Thanks."

"No problem. M.I.H.O. will not be routed by these mega lame Weeping Eye clown-jobs on our debut assignment."