Arknights story · Act or Die
AD-6 Rewind the Monologue
Greta realizes Lucian is not only focused on the film shoot, but also the things outside of it. She officially invites him to become the 'leading man', and to settle all that has transpired on the plate. His first step is to unmask the killer behind the serial murders, Moira.
2 scenes, 246 lines
1. Before Operation
119 linesA 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.
2. After Operation
127 lines......
So, out of all the choices Miss Stone gave us after disbanding the crew, you chose to play detective, Lucian.
No need to bluff. I know you're not afraid of me exposing you.
If it would let more people know the truth behind Laura's death and the conduct of the film crew, you would have gladly exposed yourself, given the right opportunity.
...But not right now.
It's over, Moira.
You hid yourself well. A simple identity and an innocent facade were the ideal cover for you.
During nearly all of the murders, you were with Tippi. That painter trusts you deeply, and was always happy to provide you an alibi... even as you left your meetings partway through.
Looking back, every 'accident' has involved you in some way.
Dalton's death was caused by a prop knife being switched, which led to the former prop master being dismissed. You, naturally, took over his work, which afforded you even greater opportunities for crime.
As for the second 'accident'...
When Shelly walked into cold storage.
No, she had intended to kill her before that, but failed.
Do you remember how Shelly had a hallucination and interrupted the shoot, Madam Stone?
While she was rooted in place, unable to move, a heavy container fell from above.
You saved her. Moira single-handedly held onto the rope, preventing the two of you from being harmed...
But it was not out of the kindness of her heart.
At the time, everyone was focused on Shelly's antics. Very few people noticed the dangling container—
Let alone rushed to the other end of the rope.
Right, only the one who tampered with the rope in the first place could have reacted that quickly...
......
The failed attempt revealed to all that Shelly suffered from hallucinations, which you took advantage of.
I knew her deepest nightmares.
She mistook me for my sister Laura, and babbled all her sinful secrets to me.
But even to the very end, she never repented. Instead, she began to blame Laura for crossing the line... She had to die.
As for Marion and Michael...
Michael only ever treated me as an innocent little errand girl. He never figured out I was after his life, even entrusting me with the important matter of sneaking out of the plate.
And Marion? She never felt the slightest guilt for what happened five years ago. She HAD to die!
Escape? Nobody can escape!
Do you know just how much suffering and malice my sister had to endure? Yet all she ever talked about was how much experience she was getting, and how happy she was to be part of the cast.
Whenever I was worried I wouldn't make it as a prop-maker, whenever I silently shed tears as the crew ostracized me... she would use herself as an example to comfort me, to encourage me...
But it was only after she died that I learned what that 'experience' you gave her really was!
......
How dare you look at me like that, Greta? Are you doubting what I just said?
Surely you haven't forgotten how you bribed the police and the media and suppressed the news of Laura's death. You even turned her accident into a mockery of the truth in a movie! How could she possibly rest in peace after that?!
No, Moira.
Madam Stone has not forgotten her deeds. Rather, she is doubting your identity.
My identity? A prop-maker, an unremarkable Zalak, an avenger of crimes unanswered—
Laura had no younger sister.
She was never a part of your life.
Wha... What are you saying?
What kind of interrogation is this?
Five years ago, after the accident, I gave Laura's family compensation.
I even hired people to scour her entire family history and their circumstances, all so I could guarantee that none of them would leak the truth, not even her most distant relatives.
After Lucian told me the truth he had deduced, I was still in disbelief, so I pulled out the list of Laura's family members and checked it again...
I regret to inform you... There was no 'Moira' on that list.
...You're lying!
I can explain everything that has happened to you, but you will need time to accept it.
So put down the dagger, Moira.
It should not be yours.
......
Put it down...?
It's far too late for that.
What was that?!
......
What's with the sudden earthquake?! Somebody save me!
Did the plate hit something?
If I'd known this was coming, I'd have skedaddled out of this place already... *whimper*... What the hell is going on here...?
Crew members stream out of their rooms into the crowded corridor, none with the slightest idea what was happening.
Lucian's shadow passes by a bevy of curses, complaints, laments, and prayers before arriving at the end of the corridor. He looks out the window.
......
Hey, guys, doesn't it feel like... the plate is speeding up?!
......
Moira locks the door.
She does not know if the man named Lucian will catch up to her, or how long it would take.
The room shakes violently, letting her know that the sabotage she performed had taken effect—
The cockpit is destroyed, the engine's output is locked to its highest setting, and its route is set. The studio plate speeds up as it approaches the nearby Catastrophe... and shows no signs of stopping.
In a few hours, they will find themselves with the misfortune of facing a storm... No, a trial.
The vast majority of this cast and crew had to answer for the accident five years ago...
For the death of her sister.
Laura had no younger sister.
She was never a part of your life.
......
Wh-What was he talking about...
Moira mumbles to herself incessantly. She sifts through the piles of junk in the prop room, and finds an old VCR. She sets it up, and pulls out a videotape from one of her inner pockets.
A videotape she has watched countless times.
She presses down on the play button.
The smile of a young woman appears on the screen.
...Laura.
...My sister. You're real... tell me you're real...
I know whenever you laughed, there was a dimple in only your left cheek. You had big eyes with light green irises, that were always so gentle when you looked at me.
You could peel an entire apple without breaking its skin in thirty seconds. Whenever you were happy, you'd whistle a big strong 'phweet'. You'd use Arts to make small ice crystals to use as hair clips...
You told me about your life in Wrankwood, how your very first role got edited down to only three seconds of screentime in the final cut.
You told me about how much you struggled just to get a few more scenes. While a few assholes talked about you behind your back, most of the crew still looked after you.
You told me how, even though you came from a small town where you couldn't even buy a VCR, even though you had to learn a lot of things from scratch, even though opportunities that are easy for others to get are far out of reach for us...
We still shouldn't be discouraged.
You never mentioned how much bullying you had to suffer through, how much pain you endured. You would go on and on about how beautiful the sunrise in Wrankwood was, looking towards the future with such firm eyes.
You also had times when you were sad, even though you only ever mentioned how homesick you felt at night, when all was quiet and the only ones kept you company were the twin moons low in the sky.
You told me how alike we were, and how you had my back and would support me forever.
Ever since we were little—
Moira suddenly stops.
She shakes her head like mad, trying to force more details out of her memory.
But she can say no more. She finds her memories of Laura have an unusually distinct cutoff point.
They had never run through the grass together, hand in hand. They had never fallen asleep in each other's arms as their parents sang to them.
As she trawls further back through her memories, every image to do with her sister is simply blank.
......
The videotape ends. The television screen goes dark.
Moira sees her own face reflected in it.
Tears silently stream down her cheek.
You were never a part of Laura's life...
Laura was never a part of yours...
But... But if that's really true...
Then what do you even have left, Moira?
...Who are you?
*sigh* First the serial murders, now this morning's mysterious explosion. The hell's going on here...
Why's the wind so strong?
Oh, right, according to the schedule, today's the day we're filming the Catastrophe.
Hautin stands in the street of the exterior set. Thanks to the nearby storm, the once-colorful background walls are covered in a layer of dust.
She never expected to experience so many twists and turns after joining the film crew. She's only ever thought about making movies. As for actually being in one... She can't stand the idea of it.
That's... the Catastrophe Miss Stone wanted to film...
Earlier, the Catastrophe everyone was making such a fuss about had simply been a faint gray dot out in the wastes.
Now, it has condensed into a storm that blots out the sky, a storm that refuses to allow onlookers to tear their gazes away from it.
Small-scale spirals of wind formed from Originium dust circle around the plate, visible to the naked eye.
...I gotta say, it really is a s-spectacular sight... If you saw a scene like this in a movie theater...
Please, Terra bless us. I've had such bad luck, please just let us finish filming safely.
No... Who cares about the shoot—a safe return to central Wrankwood is good enough for me! Please!
The plate responds to Hautin's prayer with an even-more-unusual-than-earlier sound and shaking.
Whoa! What the Hitchcock was that?!
Ahh—!
Hautin has wondered many times before: If she were actually in the middle of a Catastrophe, what would she hear?
The howling of the wind? The roaring of explosions? The shrieking of the panicked crowd? Turns out it is none of those.
It is the sound of walls and metal structures being squashed as flat as an empty can, one after the other.
It is a sound that instills extreme terror in oh-so-fragile humans, who begin to worry their organs, bones, and blood vessels will suffer a similar fate.
The turbulent sky licks against the edge of the plate, tearing sets that once starred in classic movies to shreds with the wind, before flinging them out into the wasteland.
Hautin moves aside the scaffolding that had fallen on her, but finds her legs too weak to muster the strength to move.
She looks at the devastation in a daze, barely able to believe her eyes.
My God... How did we already get so close to the Catastrophe?!