Arknights story · Lingering Echoes
LE-6 Danse Macabre
Ebenholz and the spy discover a secret laboratory hidden in the sewers, and a large number of special, activated Originium slugs gush out of the ground and threaten the Afterglow, even closing in on Kreide.
2 scenes, 314 lines
1. Before Operation
157 linesTwo men strike forward in the wide, dark sewers.
The sound of water is loud and grating, even more sinister than unbroken silence.
Hold on a minute. Make a right here.
You sure know this place well.
Of course I do.
Something every spy should know?
The first thing every spy should know.
Then I'm sure you've already been working in the Afterglow for years.
Trying to get on my good side?
Just curious.
You're not privy to that information.
Why'd you stop moving?
There's something over there.
That's the oldest trick in the book. Don't even bother.
No, I'm serious – Look over there, something's moving.
Biegler presses the weapon in his hand against Graf Urtica's heart from behind, his eyes then following the direction of the Graf's fingers.
It's just an Originium slug. You've never seen one of those before?
Is it really... just an Originium slug?
The high-and-mighty Graf Urtica was so scared by an Originium slug that he couldn't even walk. Now I've seen everything.
I still think there's something not quite right...
Stop being stupid and get a move on!
Fine.
Wait, just a second.
Isn't that an awful lot of slugs?
That's way too many! This is going to be a major problem!
Run! Now!
Why are you––
It's about to be too late already! Hurry up!
Biegler grasps Ebenholz's wrist tightly, and the two of them sprint through the sewers.
If you have the time to quip at me, you'd be better off spending it to catch your breath.
I'm not trying to be sarcastic, every branch we take seriously looks the same to me...
Rested up?
We just––
Then keep running! Hurry!
That's fine. We just happened to find who we were looking for.
Good evening, Herr Lachmann.
Good evening, shopkeep.
Shopkeep?
Ugh. You don't know a damned thing, but you still have to stick your nose where it doesn't belong. What a pain you are.
Wouldn't you agree, Biegler?
Agreed.
But you're the one who's in real trouble.
You've provoked all the Originium slugs in this area, and they're swarming towards the surface.
As we both know, the Originium slugs in the sewers emit a noxious gas, and what you're doing is tantamount to a chemical attack on the Infected of the Afterglow.
A chemical attack? But aren't we fine right now?
The gas has a much stronger effect on the Infected than it does on you, Graf Urtica.
Good. You already understand the situation.
Lachmann, quell these Originium slugs and return them to their original state immediately, or I will exercise my right to put you down on the spot.
It's no longer possible.
A lone man can start a fire easy enough, but even if you point a knife at his neck, he won't be able to put it out alone.
What do you people get out of this?
What do we get? How do you not even know that much?
Not interested in hearing your riddles.
'Pestilence from Shadow wanton spouts, spews Ruin in Prelude.'
Do you really need me to explain it word by word?
Let me rephrase. What do you get out of making the prophecy come true?
You don't need to worry about that.
What are you trying to do? Silence him?
Just knock him out already, my dear, mean-spirited spy!
Do you have any way of controlling these slugs?
If I did, I wouldn't be wasting my breath on him.
Then let's get going before it's too late!
(Glares sharply)
You're more than meets the eye, Graf Urtica.
Fine, I'll carry him out, and you follow me––
Wait, hold up, that's––
Ebenholz sees the same thing Biegler sees.
Where Lachmann has fallen, something silvery is glistening on the sewer wall.
It's the keyhole.
There might be some kind of device inside controlling the Originium slugs! I'll blow the door open––
Let me see if I can pick the lock first.
It'd be bad news if you blew up something important.
Can you open it?
The lock's a pretty tough nut to crack, but it won't get the better of me.
While you're working on that, mind telling me what this prophecy is all about?
You've never heard of it?
Well, whatever, it's spreading around anyway.
O'er lofty Hills, the Fiend steps into Twilight's Midst agaze.
The Blood hides Plague within, slow beckons Death to creep all Ways.
Pestilence from Shadow wanton spouts, spews Ruin in Prelude.
Fades Finale's Ensemble; Woe departs with Sun's last Rays.
Ensemble? Woe?
Right.
To be honest, I'm still curious what the last verse means.
Everything else is already fairly clear.
The first verse refers to Hibiscus's arrival in the Afterglow, and the second refers to the phenomenon of false recovery...
You even know about that?
What do you think a spy's job is?
......
Now, the third verse is also clear. All that remains is the last one.
It's open.
Now, that's something...
A laboratory?!
Ah, it's you. Thank you for organizing––
Herr Czerny, the situation outside has gone to hell in a handbasket!
Swarms of noxious Originium slugs started coming up from the sewers, and a lot of people have already been poisoned. It's total chaos out in the streets now!
They're saying this is part of the prophecy, and panic is spreading through the Afterglow!
How did this all happen?
We can't do much about people panicking right now, but how about those who were poisoned?
They're not looking too good... Especially those whose Oripathy started getting better recently. They're having even more violent reactions.
We've already contacted the hospital, but the medical staff on the line didn't seem very motivated when they heard that we're in the Afterglow...
It's too dangerous outside, you'd better just call!
If they didn't care when you made the call, it won't make a difference if I'm the one on the line. This is something I'll have to take care of in person.
But tomorrow's the day of the concert, and if you get poisoned...
If these inexplicable events result in deaths, do you think people will be in any mood to enjoy the music, even if the concert continues as planned?
I don't want things to reach that point, nor do I want to pretend as if nothing is happening. I'd rather not play a single note than lie to myself!
Why are there so many slugs?!
It reeks! What is this stench...?
I'll help you, let's get out of here!
Looks like... the prophecy is coming true...
Damn pests, stay away!
Krause, Krause! Get up–– *cough*, *cough*...
Help us! Someone, anyone!
Is someone playing the cello...? All the slugs are going in the direction of the music?
Thank you!
Krause, stand up. Here, hold on to my shoulder...
......
Hold on tight. Let's go, now!
(Whispers) You're welcome.
With Kreide at the epicenter, the tones of the cello spread out across the narrow streets and alleys of the Afterglow.
Wherever the cello's notes travel, the Originium slugs turn around one after another.
Those who had been surrounded think the crisis is over, that the poison-exhaling insects will soon retreat to the dark sewers under the guidance of the cello's tune.
But they are wrong.
Both where they can and cannot see, Originium slugs make their way towards Kreide.
Huff, *pant*, *pant*...
Finally... made it...
Now what... Do I just blow all these slugs up with Arts?
––Something's not right here.
Now what is it, my good spy?
The Originium slugs are all congregating in one place––
No yelling. It won't do any good and will only mess up your lungs.
Help me get through!
I told you, stop shouting.
He won't stop playing just because you're shouting, and I won't stand aside just because you aren't.
Then, let's combine forces and clear a path to Kreide!
I don't think so. I'll head in the opposite direction.
Are you going back to your coffee shop?
Yes. We worked together to create an opening. Now, we will part ways.
I'm sure you can't wait to head back to your shop and study those torn documents you retrieved from the lab, right?
I'm so glad the research notes about the Voice of Mundane are so much more interesting than the lives of the Infected.
Kreide's situation is your own damned fault, so you can solve it yourself.
Also, if I find out that even a single word in those notes and plans was written by you, just you wait.
I'll be waiting, sure enough.
That's the end of our chat.
We're going, on the count of three!
2. After Operation
157 lines*pant*... *pant*...
Kreide, I'm coming! Stop playing the cello!
Are you trying to get yourself killed?!
That...
That is something I've considered.
?!
I'll draw all the slugs over with the sound of my cello, and then... burn myself to ashes, along with them.
But now that you're here... I probably won't have a chance to do that anymore.
Kreide, why...?
Ever since I was little, I knew there was something wrong with me.
The Infected who spent a lot of time around me... their sickness kept getting worse and worse.
My grandpa and I were chased out of our home for it. We started wandering between villages.
I always thought, it wasn't all Infected people. That as long as they didn't spend too much time around me, they'd be fine.
But my grandpa's condition finally started to deteriorate, and that shattered my first illusion.
After that, Hibiscus told us about the phenomenon of 'false recovery.' I've already caused such serious damage in the short time since I came to the Afterglow.
If me living brings calamity to others, then I would rather die.
It's not your fault!
How is it not my fault?
Now that you mention it, I... think I'm finally starting to remember.
About the Voice of Mundane, those who died in the experiment, the Witch King's remains... and you.
I remember it all now.
That's why none of this is your fault!
The Witch King and his remains are to blame, as well as Gertrude – but you're innocent!
Hmm...
Thank you for reminding me that this isn't something I was born with. It was the foul product of an experiment.
I couldn't remember either until I heard the sound of your cello, so I should be thanking you.
But...
'But' what?
The situation has already spiraled out of control. I can't even mitigate the harm I cause anymore.
Besides, if the Gräfin's words are true, then my days are numbered. I might as well do something here...
But mine is already corrupted... Even if I were to transfer it to your...
We won't know until we try!
If you're already prepared to die, then what are you still scared of?
I don't want to hurt you.
You can worry about that if something bad actually happens to me.
Until then, let's make a wager.
Fine.
Can you normally feel the melody of the Voice of Mundane?
Whether I'm performing or casting Arts, I can always vaguely feel the presence of the Voice... I know this shrill melody well by now, even though it's not at all mine.
I know.
Mine isn't shrill. If anything, it's gentle – Rather, I should say that it's so harmonious, almost to the point of being an empty void.
Let's try our best to match the melodies we've experienced, and put them together.
Put them together...? But we don't have an audience.
No, look at the audience all around us.
The Originium slugs?
Playing to Originium slugs the melodies that the old bastard left behind is quite fitting, if you ask me – humane, even.
As soon as the sounds of flute and cello intermingle, both men immediately recognize the problem.
There is hardly any consonance between their two melodies.
The flute's voice is urgent, manic, and harsh. It speeds up and slows down, as if filled with an urge to drag everything before it into the abyss.
The cello's voice is languid, melancholic, and hollow. Its rhythm remains constant, akin to a land ground down to nothingness by Catastrophe.
But the two brace themselves and persevere, continuing their duet that is not a duet.
The slugs surge forward like the tide.
Underneath a noxious sky, the two men whose lives have been twisted by their Voices of the Mundane continue their discordant duet, reading the score of a melody that they never knew existed in their minds, playing before an audience of Originium slugs.
The more Ebenholz follows this train of thought, the more he feels himself approaching the coda of the Voice of Mundane's melody.
He puts more force behind his breaths, while the sounds of Kreide's cello grow heavier and hollower.
Ebenholz, I...
Ebenholz lowers his head to look towards Kreide. Kreide's head has already begun to droop. His hand continues bowing, but the cello's sound becomes dimmer and dimmer, getting closer and closer to nothingness.
Suddenly, in this moment, Ebenholz seems to realize something.
So, he uses his remaining strength to blow one final sforzando.
Kreide also seems to be struggling, laboriously sawing at the thickest string on the instrument.
Their music spreads like an alarm bell.
The slugs that had been frantically rushing towards the pair of musicians suddenly retreat just as quickly, as if they have seen a predator.
(Draws heavy breaths)
...I'm awake.
How's that? Can you still hear the melody of your Voice of Mundane?
To be honest, it seems even clearer now.
Sorry, I acted without thinking.
But on the bright side, we managed to drive away the Originium slugs––
Hold on...
Kreide, what's wrong?
The new suit you bought for me––
Oh good, it hasn't been soiled.
Probably doesn't smell too good though, right?
True enough.
It's fine. I bet you can't even imagine how much I reek right now.
Speaking of which, this wouldn't be the first time I've gotten myself into this mess.
That time, a fire broke out not far from the Spire of Urtica. Instead of going to put out the fire, the Spire's attendants all rushed over to make sure I couldn't go anywhere.
They were afraid you'd run away?
Afraid that I'd run away, afraid that I'd go into hiding, afraid that I'd die in that sea of fire...
They worried about you dying?
Nearly all the windows in the Spire had Arts-enhanced bars and locks, just in case I tried to jump off.
I was a prized figurehead. If I went off and died, they wouldn't have been able to endure the consequences.
In the end, the flames never reached the Spire, but I did get marinated in the smell of smoke.
I wore that smoke-soaked coat for a good half month and didn't take it off until the weather warmed.
That brings back old memories here as well.
After my grandpa and I were run out of our old home, we started to wander between some of the more affluent villages.
Most people were pretty friendly to us, as long as we hid the fact that we were Infected.
I read in novels that during the harvest season, friendly villagers would prepare bratwurst and beer for the day workers at night so that they could eat and drink to their heart's content.
(Shakes head)
The friendly villagers threw some spare change at us and shooed us out of the village before nightfall, in fear that we'd steal things.
The not-so-friendly villagers prepared some rock-hard Schwarzbrot, and pointed weapons at us, intended to make us fall in line.
......
One time, I was helping a villager out with some farm work.
It was really hot that day and I was dripping with sweat, so I wanted to loosen my clothes while nobody was around.
Right before I was about to take off my shirt, I heard a commotion not far away.
Grandpa rushed over and told me to run, saying that one of the workers rolled up his sleeves thinking nobody was watching, accidentally revealing the Originium crystals on his arm.
The villagers immediately threw him into an abandoned cellar and locked him up, and then set out to check everyone else, one-by-one.
If not for Grandpa, I might've also died in that cellar.
Died–– They actually kill the Infected?
They didn't need to, nor did they dare.
All they had to do was wait for them to starve, crystallize, and explode...
Hasn't there been a long-standing law to treat the Infected with dignity?
I never knew about a decree like that until I first set foot in a nomadic city.
You have nothing to apologize for. You were also deceived by the Gräfin...
No, what I mean is, if I had been a little braver back then... If I, if I had spoken up back then, maybe you wouldn't have had to––
I'm sorry...
Really, you don't have anything to apologize for.
Just as you said, the Voice of Mundane was made by man. The blame falls on those who sought to use the Voice of Mundane, not on you.
I protected you in the manner I could...
Just like you're trying to protect me now.
......
You're right.
Thank you, Kreide.
Come, let's find Hibiscus and Herr Czerny... They'll know what to do, I'm sure of it.
And then, we'll have that Voice of Mundane removed from you. You can thank me properly after that.
Let's go––
Kreide?!
Kreide's condition is more or less stable. The reason he passed out most likely has to do with the poison.
We've rescued a number of poisoning patients whose signs and symptoms largely match with Kreide's.
But on the subject of Kreide's future... the Countess probably didn't lie. Overall, his condition is on the edge of critical.
So, you'll help us, won't you?
I... want to trust the two of you, I really do.
But I need proof.
Even if it's circumstantial evidence, I need some objective facts to show that the Voice of Mundane isn't baseless speculation, but a part of an imminent plot––
Sir?!
Where've you been? We've been looking all over for you!
Lies? Speculation?
Can you be a hundred percent sure that what you say is true?
What you said to Kreide... Do you know that he almost died along with those Originium slugs because of your words?!
Ebenholz, is that true...?
(Nods slightly)
Had Ebenholz not found him first, you would've never seen him again!
I'm telling you, the Voice of Mundane is real. That I swear on my life!
What do you mean?
I don't have time to explain it to you right now. I have work to do.
But, I need to...
You're among the most stubborn folk I've ever met.
Go to the lounge of the concert hall, and you'll understand everything.
Right, the concert hall!
Gertrude said she did something to Afterglow Hall to make it match with the Arts during the duet!
Alright, let's go right away–
There's also Czerny. Make sure you bring him as well, in case neither of you can convince the other.
I have to go now.
Sir, you...
Ebenholz and Hibiscus trade glances.
They are both suspicious, but they are also running out of time.