She spins toward you, arm raised.

She spins toward you, arm raised.

What's happening?

Your former asset is mid-lunge -- weapon in hand, eyes trained on your neck.

Two cups' worth of coffee beans are about to hit the floor.

Times are once again dire, operant -- your own shadow has turned against you. An Advanced Cognitive Manoeuvre could win the day.

What's her weapon?

An auto-injector loaded with a medical syringe.

Woah, fuck! Bitch means business.

Syringe contents: Mysterious.

A bioweapon hidden in a jar of biscuits. Assume the worst.

There's an A.C.M. for situations like this?

The Remembrancers tell of a word hidden for centuries by a convent of isolated nuns -- then stolen by PROBABLE, who told the Opera that it means 'subdue' in a long dead tongue.

Too close, already in motion. Snatch it out of her hand.

A single word to end this now. Worth a shot.

Let's do it. (Back)

Eszti hurtles towards you.

Disarm her.

A little sidestep, a twist of her wrist, and the weapon is yours.

Cool. We just looked cool doing that.

Your former asset bares her teeth, sweat dampening her hair already.

She's desperate, but she probably can't overpower you -- and she certainly can't outrun you.

You hold all the cards, and the cards are in the shape of a loaded syringe. Your move.

"You got old, Eszti."

"We all did, Hershel. Save it."

"What's in this thing?"

She pants, hair sticking to her forehead. Still recovering from the command.

The side reads 'sodium thiopental' -- truth serum.

Stab the traitor. Needle through the eye.

Ash crumbles from the cigarette in her mouth. In the next room, her husband coughs.

Good thing he's deaf or you'd have both of them to contend with.

What can I do?

You're in control -- you could either use the syringe on her, run for it, or break it and forget this ever happened.

You won't forget this ever happened.

Nor will she.

Stabbing her seems fair.

And you get to use this charming new contraption.

It's a shit contraption. Old people medical grade tat.

What would Eszti do?

Stab you, obviously.

You'd be proving her right about you. Be the better person, show that you can be trusted.

Betrayer. Stab her until it breaks.

Her husband's in the living room, he'll see me running.

Which means she's less likely to chase you. She probably won't want to explain this little dalliance you're having.

He seems nice, just wave at him as you go by.

I need to make a decision... (Back.)

She taps her right heel on the floor, watching you.

Stab her.

The needle goes stiff in your hand as the tip hits bone. Feels good.

"Fuck..."

"What was in that thing?"

"Sodium thiopental. Truth serum."

She takes a long, conciliatory drag of her cigarette.

Her stance changes, shoulders sagging. The serum taking hold.

"I need to sit... you sit, too. Fuck it."

Stabbed and still giving us örders. Hag.

Eszti sways a little with fatigue as she lowers herself to a chair.

Her cigarette dirties the table. She winces, tries to reach for a dishcloth, gives up.

"Well?" She laughs, involuntary. "Why are you here?"

Good chance for some preliminary questions. She won't be able to lie.

"Are you happy?"

"I don't... It's not... I do the crossword."

There is no gauge marked 'happiness' on the dashboard of Eszti's mind.

She grins, looks away.

"Was I a good lead?"

"Rude, reckless..." Her eyes close for a moment, open again. She laughs. "Destroyed everything..."

She left room for a 'but'!

"... But?"

"Nothing." she sniffs. "You ruined my life once, I fear you're about to do so again."

Ruins paved with red and white chequerboard. Frilled curtains, velvet sofa. A folly.

"Let me," she laughs again, covers her mouth. "Tell you what it was like working for the Opera in Portofiro."

"I was recruited by a very competent operant. He was killed. There was another operant. She was killed. Ahaha! The third was recalled when he went insane. You were the fourth. The worst."

She's trying to fight a smile, her cheeks keep twitching upward.

"Now tell me why you are here."

"I need to trade a prisoner with EMTERR. I want you to get that deal going."

"It was a yes or no question."

"No."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Was."

"What was in that thing?"

"Sodium thiopental." she sighs, sways.

Truth serum. Sneaky bitch.

"Learn not to mess with me."

"Shut up, Hershel."

"You brought this on yourself. I just wanted to talk."

"You're a liar... Always have been."

Armour plating didn't hold. Bitch figured it out.

"I won't let you cave in my life again." She steps back from you, shoulders sagging from the effort.

Your vision begins to blur. Your skull crackles and hums.

Oh shit, you're going to be -- hahahaha -- so fucked when you tell her about killing the Lich. Hahaha!

Doesn't bode well for the whole... secret assignment thing. Haha!

Your vision begins to blur, your legs tremble.

This linoleum is fast approaching. Swan dive! Face first.

You feel heavy. Fun! Your eyes close. Open. Close.

Eszti sits across from you at her kitchen table. Plastic tablecloth, assorted plates.

Outside, closer. The beating of an impossible heart.

"Good, you're back."

Eyes sore. Vice grip in skull... Gonna get squished...

Fight it... Awake...

"Feels nice. Thanks."

"Yes, yes, we'll take all that as read."

"Now tell me what you're doing back in Portofiro."

Orders... message? No... friends. Bald guy... Hahaha. Massive bald guy.

Ev....ade....

HEY, HEY, WANT TO KNOW A LITTLE STATE SECRET?

Yes please.

THE LAST KOHILAN EMPEROR WAS SOLD BACK TO KOHILA AFTER FLEEING THE REVOLUTION. THE PARTY EMPLOYED HIM AS A GARDENER. OUR FOUNDERS KEPT DEPOSED MONARCHS AS PETS HAHAH.

Woah.

HERE'S ANOTHER HUSH HUSH -- REVOLUTION ACTUALLY DOESN'T WORK SO WELL.

IT'S MORE OF A COIN-FLIP THAN A SCIENCE.

GULAGGING IS HILARIOUS, ISN'T IT? SOMETIMES WE GULAG FOR FUN.

"Hershel." A snap of her fingers brings you back. "Focus. Why are you in Portofiro?"

"Tempo had a message for me... Critical... CASCADE or nothing..."

"That's past tense. Why are you still in Portofiro?"

"He's dead now... Weeping Eye probably, really sad..."

"Tempo is dead?" She blinks twice. "God, Hershel. Are they hunting us again? Answer me!"

"You don't need to know the details, just your role."

...Is what you meant to say.

Aha... fucked it? What did we say?

"Got to kill the Grand Lich of Techno-Fascism. Melita orders."

Oh, yeah. Öopsies.

"No."

An immediate change in her. Pale, hollow. She puts her hand to her mouth and drops it. She can't look at you.

"No... This can't be real. I can't have this..."

Terrified.

"What you've just told me, you have never told me, understand? How could you come here? You'll lead them to me..."

"Who?"

"The Weeping Eye, Hershel!"

"They will find everyone you have spoken to. They will torture everyone. They will assume guilt and they won't care if they are wrong."

"You've doomed us all."

The Weeping Eye have defeated her without even laying a finger on her.

"They broke you already. This is how they keep us down..."

"I have a home, a job, friends, family, a loving husband. I am not down and I will not be brought down by you and your mindless sense of worldly dissatisfaction."

"Believe me when I say this... You are not the person for this job. There is no way the Opera seriously thinks you could pull this off. This is suicide."

"You're wrong."

"You should quit while you can. You're playing a loser's game. A thousand ways to fail, no way to win. You are cannon fodder, at best."

"I will not... no, we cannot have any part in this. Get out, Hershel. I wish I'd never met you."

"They still gave me the assignment."

"You are a coward, Eszti."

"They won't find us. We'll be sneaky style."

"Yes, they will. They will torture you and they will kill you and they will kill everyone you met on your way."

"Are you going to tell on me?"

"No. I am... going to get out of Portofiro. I am going to pretend I never saw you and I beg you to do the same. Beg."

Fucking coward.

"Karolina survived them. Tougher than you."

"You've been to her, then? I don't even want to imagine what condition she's in."

Which means that Eszti knew about Karolina but she never tried to help her.

"I wasn't followed."

"The Weeping Eye are always watching, Hershel. Don't you understand? They're not like the Opera. They are everywhere, they are merciless, they are..."

"I only need you to make a contact for me, be cool."

"With an assignment like this there is no difference between making a contact and pulling the trigger. They will find everyone... everyone you've spoken to..."

"Who?"

"The Weeping Eye, Hershel!"

Weeeeeeping Eye.

"They will find everyone you have spoken to. They will torture everyone. They will assume guilt and they won't care if they are wrong."

"You've doomed us all."

Broken before they even touched her! Ahaha, nice.

"They broke you already. This is how they keep us down..."

"I have a home, a job, friends, family, a loving husband. I am not down and I will not be brought down by you and your mindless sense of worldly dissatisfaction."

"Believe me when I say this... You are not the person for this job. There is no way the Opera seriously thinks you could pull this off. This is suicide."

"You wrong."

"You should quit while you can. You're playing a loser's game. A thousand ways to fail, no way to win. You are cannon fodder, at best."

"I will not... No, we cannot have any part in this. Get out, Hershel. I wish I'd never met you."

"They still gave me the assignment though. I'm the Hershel."

"Jealous... about my massive assignment."

"I need to do it. I need to get it back."

"They won't find us. We'll be sneaky style."

"Yes, they will. They will torture you and they will kill you and they will kill everyone you met on your way."

"Are you going to tell on me?"

"No. I am... going to get out of Portofiro. I am going to pretend I never saw you and I beg you to do the same. Beg."

Lies! Gäng knows a narc when it sees one!

Byeeee!

"Karolina survived them. Tougher than you."

"You've been to her, then? I don't even want to imagine what condition she's in."

So she never tried to help K? Ahahaha. Bitch.

"Guaranteed death. Doomcore funeral. Huge parade. Statue maybe. They'll remember my name forever."

"Who is 'they'? You... want to get caught? You want to be famous?"

Murals in a dirty alley, defaced and repainted. CASCADE graffitied onto a moving train. A thousand new revolutionaries laying flowers on your grave.

You'll be nothing but an unmarked star in the Palace of Culture.

"So you know that this is suicide."

"No. I can do it. Just might... not."

"Yes."

"And you wanted to take me with you? Who else have you lured into this, how many 'friends' are you killing?"

"And you can bet the Opera knows it's suicide, too. A thousand ways to fail, no way to win. You are cannon fodder, at best."

"You in now?"

"No, I am not in. Who else have you lured into this, how many 'friends' are you killing?"

"Not followed."

"The Weeping Eye are always watching, Hershel. Don't you understand? They're not like the Opera. They are everywhere, they are merciless, they are..."

"Only need contact... Prisoner... EMMMTERR..."

"With an assignment like this there is no difference between making a contact and pulling the trigger. They will find everyone... everyone you've spoken to..."

"Ahahaha..." She slaps the table. "You've killed us all! The Weeping Eye are going to kill us all."

Just because she's saying it on sodium thiopental doesn't mean it's true. Ignore her.

"They're not like Opera... they're everywhere! They'll get you all... and now you've been here... they'll get me too. And... Pascal!" Another bark of laughter.

The Luzian interrogators have broken her without laying a finger on her. Impressive.

"They broke you already. This is how they keep us down."

"I like it... down."

"Believe me... suicide mission. No bueno for us. Nobody thinks you can pull this off! Not even Opera."

"And especially..." She steadies herself on the table. "Not me."

"You're wrong."

"You are cannon fodder! Hahaha."

"Get out, you fool... need to lie down..."

"They gave me the assignment. They believe in me."

"They get rid of you."

"You're just jealous about my massive assignment."

"I need to do it. I need to do this one right."

"We can pull this off."

"Ahahaha! You're fucking insane."

"I only need you to make a contact. For a prisoner."

"No difference... trigger or phone call. Everybody dead. Bang. Bang. Bang."

She's saying it on sodium thiopental, so that must mean it's true...

"Big Minister. Did you know nobody's ever seen a photo of him?"

"I'm supposed to shoot him with a gun. I don't have one."

"Good. You should keep it that way. Hershel..." She puts her head in her hands.

Woah, she wants us to do it with our bare hands. Hardcore mode.

"Going to shoot him with this shooter." (Show her your gun.)

She looks to your gun, to you. She doesn't seem able to close her mouth.

Pew pew.

"Going to shoot him with this shooter. Made it myself. Untested, should be fine..." (Show her your D.I.Y. gun.)

"Don't puss out. Melita said you'll help."

"Melita...? Who is Melita?"

Your controller's name... No... Ahahah...

"The star that guides me to ruin."

"She's your controller, isn't she? Of course you're in a delusional relationship with your controller. Of course."

"My c... My cont..."

"Your cunt? You're taking orders from your... No. I don't care."

She exhales, shakes her head slowly.

"The hottest person you've never seen..."

"Got to wang the Grand Lich of Techno-Fascism. Melita orders."

"Big things are happening... Going to assassinate Facundo Reyes.... Grand Lich... zero out, bye bye..."

"He's wanged now... Weeping Eye probably, really sad..."

"Assembling a new crew..."

"In order to..."

Why didn't they just shoot him?

THAT TOO. 'CHIEF PLOTTERS HAVE BEEN REHABILITATED'... SHOT AGAINST A WALL. SHHHHH!

Not now... trying to focus...

YOU'RE NOT VERY FUN. FUN IS PRAXIS.

"You molested me into a chair I see."

"No, I lowered you gently into a chair. I didn't even slap you, although I was very tempted."

"Bitch. I've always thought it... Have zero respect for you as an asset. And that was before this insubordination..."

"Good, you're back." She takes a drag of her cigarette. "What you're feeling is sodium thiopental."

Truth serum. Uh oh. Hehehe.

Oh shit, you're going to be -- hahahaha -- so fucked when you tell her about killing the Lich. Hahaha!

"It's sodium thiopental," she pants. "Truth serum."

She made a pincushion of your neck.

Run.

One exit. The way you came in. You can outpace her, easy.

A TRUE REVOLUTIONARY NEVER RETREATS. SHE ONLY ADVANCES BACKWARD.

"No! Pascal's there!"

Eszti's husband stands in the doorway, blocking your path.

"Off already?" A small smile.

HUMAN COLLATERAL BLOCKS YOUR ADVANCE. LIQUIDATE.

Smash through him.

"Ahhh..."

You feel his bones crunch on impact.

HE CANNOT HEAR THE REVOLUTION BUT HE HAS FELT IT.

"Oh god, no!"

You pound carpet out into the stairwell.

Your limbs tremble from shunts of adrenaline. The Housing Campaign feels claustrophobic, its colours darker than when you entered.

You clocked that old fool good! Probably still down, writhing hard.