Arknights story · Act or Die
AD-7 Blood Diamond's Song
The studio plate is damaged by the Originium storm. Tippi, shocked by the culprit being her good friend, decides to save the plate. At the same time, Lucian finds Moira once more, who has already descended into madness.
2 scenes, 437 lines
1. Before Operation
167 linesWhat the...?! THIS is Greta's plan for the shoot?!
The Originium storm's right in our faces! What are we, some sort of suicide squad?
No... no way... This has to be the killer's doing, right? Didn't you hear the explosion earlier?
Someone blew up the plate's cockpit... There's no way we can slow the plate down or change directions now...
Right now we're only barely in contact with the storm, but once we hit its core...
They're not gonna find even a single brick from this plate... *sob*...
Alright, enough!
So who on Terra was it? Their revenge wasn't enough for them, so now they're gonna take out the rest of us too?!
The... murderer is Moira of the prop team...
What? Who's talking?
I said! The killer responsible for the three murders is Moira!
Moira...? You're kidding me... That unremarkable Zalak?
Miss Stone caught her red-handed!
If Lucian weren't there, she would've become the next victim!
...So where's the little rat now? I'll go find her myself!
And what's the point of confronting a psycho killer when you can't even save yourself?!
She owes us an explanation! What if she gets innocents killed?!
You think I haven't thought of that?!
I already switched the wireless comms to broadcast mode to ensure I survive this. I'm sure everyone outside the plate has heard the truth by now.
The killer's trapped like a rat.
I have to live, I have to... Once I get back to central Wrankwood, all the bombshells I've collected these past few days will be enough to buy me a villa in Siesta—
Shit! The plate's tilting towards the Originium storm again!
Right, the landboats! We can use them to escape!
...They're gone.
What?
I went over to the emergency escape cabin earlier, and they were already wrecked by the storm... every last one of them...
There's no way out for us now...
...If I'm going to die anyway, I might as well take the chance and jump off the plate... I...
Cut that shit out!
Just move! Anywhere's safer than the film set! Let's go hide underground in the engine layer!
There truly are so many things to learn from the set design of a horror film... Thank you, Tippi.
No problem!
I have to get back and start making the visualizations for most of the visual effects first, then we'll finalize the details after Director Quay is done with the script.
Like I promised, I'm gonna design you a finale that'll leave Lady Dupont in the cinema history!
Right, I'm looking forward to it.
(Wait, how long have we talking about this? Did Molly ever find a way to escape—)
Ahh—!
Wh-What now?
That's not good.
Wait, there's a voice from the comms...
Catastrophe... *bzzt*... control cabin... destroyed...
Why's the signal so bad? It sounded like Abner's assistant. What kinda trouble is he getting into now—
The control cabin... has been destroyed...
The plate... is rushing towards the Catastrophe...
...killer... is Moira...
Tippi grips the wireless walkie-talkie and turns the volume knob as high as she can, but it stays silent.
She must have misheard, she thinks.
But if so, why is Miss Rutherford looking at her with such a sullen expression?
No... There's no way...
Tippi... I can't imagine anyone would joke about that in these circumstances.
But... When would she have even had the opportunity?
The nights when Shelly, Michael, and Marion died, she was watching movies with me the whole time, there wasn't—
Was there really no opportunity?
Tippi doubts her own mind.
Was Molly really right next to her the whole time during their movie nights?
No...
We always watched multiple movies back to back, so sometimes she'd leave when I was switching out the tape...
Sometimes she'd say Miss Stone was looking for her, sometimes it was to pick up something she forgot on the film set...
I'm sure you know how she's like, ma'am. She's still new to being the prop master and under, like, a ton of pressure, but she's super committed to her work...
Darling...
No, no, that only explains how she could've done it! It doesn't prove that she did...
A motive! Why would she kill all those people she had nothing to do with? Why don't I know anything?
Darling, maybe you didn't know your friend as well as you thought you did.
Sorry, there's just been so much going on with the film crew lately, I'm... I'm a little nervous...
Don't worry, I'm here for you, girl!
......
No matter who I am, one thing's for sure: I'm your best friend on this crew.
Or maybe... maybe she never even thought of me as a friend...
Maybe she was just... using me...
The Liberi girl's head sinks.
She speaks no more.
......
Melanie hugs the little Liberi in front of her.
The girl who was consoling her just a few hours ago is now crying on her shoulder.
Melanie pats her back. She asks no questions, nor does she say anything about the price of growing up. She only hugs her.
Let's just leave this place first, Tippi.
The convoluted structure here will only put us in danger if the plate gets too close to the Catastrophe core.
We would be safer underground, though that too may be futile if the plate doesn't change direction...
Underground...
Over Melanie's shoulders, Tippi spots some of the material they salvaged from the horror film earlier.
'Underground'—The word circles around her brain.
What? You've recovered your pep already?
No, I figured out how to change the plate's trajectory!
There was once a crew that snuck into another Wrankwood plate to film secretly—to save on rental costs—and they ended up with a super cool scary movie...
I re-watched it recently.
But that plate and the one we're standing on both came from the same batch made by Wrankwood...
So basically, the specs should be pretty much the same.
If my hunch is right... there should be another control cabin at the bottom of the engine layer.
...What are our odds of making it there?
To be honest... no idea.
But never tell me the odds. I gotta try.
There's no point mulling over something I can't answer on my own. Only when we're out of this crisis...
Will I be able to get the truth from her.
(Gentle singing♪)
(Cheerful whistling♪)
So this is where you were, Lucian.
......
That was my sister's favorite song. On breaks between shooting she'd often look to the sky and hum the tune.
I thought you'd already woken up.
I did.
Thanks to you. You showed me the truth I was blind to... and how cruel they truly were.
Then what are you doing now?
A rumbling comes from beneath their feet. The Wrankwood plate rushes towards the Catastrophe as the crew panics. No one would think to enter the prop room now, when they should be escaping.
But it is at this very moment that the prop master gets to work.
She goes around the room, fiddling with one mannequin after another, dressing them in clothes, correcting their postures... Her earnest focus is fully on them.
I only just remembered how I recognized Laura.
If you will allow me a guess... you met someone.
Yes, a very gentle Feline.
The weather was terrible that day. I was sitting on a bench for a long time, and there was water on my face—probably rain, but maybe tears...
The accident was caused by the negligence of the person in charge, but in the end I was the one who had to pay compensation and was kicked off the crew.
I didn't know anyone in Wrankwood, so I was no stranger to being treated like that.
I ran away from home, you know. After my parents died, there was nowhere else to go. So the only thing left for me was...
Death.
Then that person sat next to me. We didn't talk the entire time. He only gently waited for me to calm down...
But when he left, I realized a cassette tape was sitting on my knee.
That man brought Laura into my life, at a time when there was only darkness.
She became my sister. She protected me, encouraged me, and helped me pull myself together...
Laura was already long dead by then.
Her background, experiences, and even appearance all resembled yours. The man gave you motivation when you were at your lowest...
As well as anger, confusion, and a deep-rooted thirst for vengeance...
No doubt, that was no better than before.
......
Was that grief I saw flash through your eyes...? Or... pity? No, that's not it either...
More like... understanding, sympathy.
Did something similar happen to you?
Do you know him?
Of course.
He's an expert at grafting non-existent joy and anger onto your life, much like how an unscrupulous director adds extra elements as he pleases to a story he deems dull...
Oh, I suppose you would call it 'ad-libbing' in the film industry.
He pulls you from one pit of despair while guiding you into another, thus inciting the so-called beauty of drama.
...He's an old acquaintance, my teacher, the source of all my suffering, and a phantom that should be long dead.
Finding you, finding him...
Is the very reason I came here.
......
Moira, I'm sorry for denying all that you have.
......
No. It's not like that.
Moira finishes arranging her last mannequin, and returns to the center of the prop room.
She does a curtsy in Lucian's direction, and lightly taps her fingertips.
Lucian then realizes something has changed, and looks over to see that every mannequin has come 'alive'.
I don't think you've denied me.
In my worst hour, Laura appeared by my side, and has accompanied me for a long time now...
She's my sister, as I am hers.
I don't regret avenging her. I don't regret shouldering all these sins.
I will also be the last person in this land to remember her.
I cry, I laugh, I rage, I doubt, I hate, I grieve, I yearn...
And thus I have them, these intense feelings I would never have had otherwise.
I am alive.
The mannequins begin to move.
Lucian recognizes who they were modeled after... the deceased Dalton, Shelly, Michael, Marion, and also Moira herself.
Moira stretches out her hand, and holds her mannequins' hands one by one as they move past her.
No music except the trembling ground accompanies their movements, but the tiny Zalak prop master seems to have become the most passionate dancer on the land, as she embraces her myriad...
Strange, yet elegant.
I should be thanking you, Lucian. You helped me realize it.
When there was nothing left of 'Moira' anymore...
I felt as if I became a mirror, and that I could become—
Anyone!
Wake up.
Satisfaction born from despair is nothing but poison.
I've never been more awake in my entire life.
Would you also like to become my dance partner?
...Just like them.
As Moira finishes speaking, her dance partners throw themselves at Lucian—
2. After Operation
270 lines(Gasping heavily)
Chill, Tippi, chill... deep breaths. Remember how the plot went in that movie—
...The heroine had her friend pick up a weapon and hide in a storage room to the left, while she herself ran the other way...
Storage room...
Alright, the route matches up!
Down we go... It's kinda dark in here... Well, dark is good... There should be a hidden door around the corner...
Straight ahead, and at the end of the corridor there should be a backup control cabin...
...She knew all the mannequins chasing down the squad were her friend's work. The whole squad pointed their fingers at her friend, and she was mad too...
Gotta get moving!
What are you doing here, Tippi?
I figured out how to change the plate's trajectory! We can avoid any more casualties, so let me through ASAP!
There's a way out of this...?
Don't listen to her lies! Isn't she the culprit's best friend?!
She could've been covering up for her this whole time! How else could we have missed all this happening right under our noses, right up until we're about to die?!
She tries not to think about her friend's betrayal, even though she still has things to say...
She ignores the crowd mocking her. They're only attacking her to protect themselves...
It... it was you, the one always hiding in the back! First you interrupt the shooting, now you're preventing us from going home!
She wants to save everyone, including her friend. She wants answers...
Stop her! Don't let her through!
Agh, my eyes—!
Tippi grabs the spray-gun from her belt and glares at the fearsome weapon-wielding crew.
You leave me no other choice...
Are you guys afraid of one girl? Get her!
The murders, the Catastrophe... The film crew was already on-edge from having to hide in the engine layer, so the spray-painter's behavior only rouses their pent-up anger.
Their self-defense weapons scrape the floor as everyone rushes towards Tippi.
Her hands are trembling. There is no way she can take them all alone, and she prays the hover unit on her back will work...
Her final trump card.
A black creature shows up at the corner of the corridor.
......
It is as if the noise drew her here, but also as if she is merely passing by.
No one notices her as they rush by, their heads filled with all sorts of extreme emotions.
Miss.Christine takes a sniff, and the rushing crowd slows down in her eyes... until they freeze in place.
Anger. Extremely spicy, but without a little sour envy to balance it out, it tastes a bit off...
Panic. Bitter and hard to keep down, but a little dash of sweet comfort will turn it into a nice dessert...
Grief. A salty mix of tears and sighs that brings unnecessary trouble if too much is added. Must be carefully paired with other flavors...
Pain. The most complex and ever-changing emotion. It used to be my favorite...
But after meeting Lucian, the pain of ordinary people is almost flavorless to me.
Well, there's another one over there... She seems to be that little Zalak's friend.
At first I only took notice of that girl who seemed so similar to Lucian, the lead actress that man chose for his latest play. Yet I didn't expect your ties to make you even tastier than her.
Miss.Christine shakes her tails, her eyes moving between shadows on the ground until they lock onto Tippi's silhouette...
The lady's twin tails twist into strange shapes, as if a woman is wiping her knife and fork before diving into her meal.
The lady glances at the crowd rushing towards the Liberi.
A little exercise to aid digestion after her meal, she thinks.
...Why... am I here...?
The Catastrophe's about to hit us, so we came down here to hide from it... But what's with the wrench in my hand?
*thunk*—
Weapons fall from their hands in succession, as the resulting harsh clangs wake even more from their delirium.
They exchange looks of confusion, not knowing why they were all holding weapons, though they do know that they should leave.
Meow—
Miss.Christine...? What're you doing here?
How come they're leaving?
When they were rushing towards me, I suddenly felt my whole body go cold, and lots of different feelings woke up in me at the same time. Like they were fighting...
But then a breeze blew by, I heard their weapons drop, and my body thawed out too.
Like some kinda irresistible force pulled something out of me...
Miss.Christine tilts her head.
She taps her tails twice on the floor, successfully attracting the girl's attention, then points in a direction.
...They are right in front of the control cabin.
*cough* *cough* This place is older than I thought it'd be...
Wow, the devices here are all previous gen stuff...
But that's good news for us, since they're all sealed off to prevent dust and corrosion, and there's no smart locks on anything...
Even I'd find it pretty tough to learn to hack on the spot.
Lemme see...
The storm's moving faster than the plate, so just reversing's a no-go. Turning—turning's the best way out.
But trying to change direction when the plate's already so close to the Catastrophe... No, I can't worry about that!
Where's the backup navigational system...
Here it is!
First open the lock... Great, I'm in.
Then...
Tippi takes a deep breath, and hopes she remembers the steps right.
Pull the lever all the way down!
Bang—
Tippi is thrown against a wall by a huge force. The entire engine layer shakes, with all sorts of strange mechanical noises ringing throughout the tiny space—
That was the plate's 'waist' jerking around, with every segment of the treads below now trying to respond to the change.
The steel giant under her feet is now fighting its own immense and unstoppable inertia by steering sideways, trying to avoid the storm right up ahead—
Tippi feels her teeth ache.
She does not know if it will manage to turn in time, or how long it will take.
All she can do is pray.
Even a little shift will do. We'll have a tiny, tiny chance as long as we don't hit the storm's core.
It has to work, it HAS to work!
I have to... see her one more time.
Meow—
Miss.Christine shakes her tails, jumping in front of the little Liberi to smell the changes in her mood.
A brief relief after achieving her goal, along with confusion and pain from a friend's betrayal... But why is there also a hint of suppressed madness?
......
No. That smell does not belong to the girl.
Miss.Christine jerks her head up, looking towards a place she cannot see. A companion who has been with her the whole time.
Lucian feels sympathy towards the other person, which means he is currently experiencing twice the pain.
Miss.Christine is somewhat displeased.
She cannot help but recall the night when the Crimson Troupe was destroyed, as Lucian sang under name Blood Diamond—
It is no good omen.
How are you so calm, Lucian?
......
Are you disappointed? Unmoved by what I've done?
A mannequin pounces on him. While it is an inanimate object, Lucian feels a strong depressive aura that suddenly turns into elation and ecstasy...
As Lucian touches the mannequin, the emotions turn into energy, forcing him backwards.
...Dalton.
There is no doubt these are the feelings Dalton had right before his final rehearsal.
Why don't you fight back? Do you have that little interest in me, babe?
But ever since you played the part of the Messenger and spoke those lines about fate, I haven't been able to take my eyes off you!
...Michael.
The mannequin passes on Moira's emotions and she turns into Michael. The excessive yet artificial man who always wore his heart on his sleeve.
What kind of emotions are you hiding inside yourself?
You let me feel fear, and danger, so much danger...
...Shelly.
Shelly. In the final moments of her life, the neurotic coordinator was completely wrecked by her own fear.
Turning emotions into tangible energy, and any object that passes through your hands becomes a medium to release it...
...So these are your Originium Arts.
I see why he chose you. Why he led you to become what you are now.
A prop master, strings, puppets... all images born just for the stage. When you forget your self, a person becomes a play.
Come, join in our performance, Lucian.
If you're right, and that man roused my abilities, then as his real student, you will make the best dance partner!
Moira laughs and cries loudly... a thousand expressions flash across her face, filling the prop room with a suffocating energy—
There is nowhere for Lucian to run.
......
Fine.
What?
Moira, I will sing for you... as you wish.
The Blood Diamond's song is a kind of misfortune, for both himself and the audience.
It will rip my throat apart, sending pain straight into your ears... And you will either die, or spend the rest of your life with its melody reverberating in your mind.
If you willingly ignore the truth in your hands, if you're satisfied by such falsehoods, if you can only approach him by destroying yourself...
Then allow me to relieve your pain, and enter the stage once more.
......
Moira hears a song.
The emotions within flood into her, overwhelming even the song itself. She does not understand what Lucian is singing about, she only feels...
Joy, fear, doubt, rage, hatred, and sorrow—a hundred times stronger than her own...
Before she is completely washed away by the emotions, she cannot help but think—
What sort of experiences must one go through to understand such revelations—or was he simply forced to learn it all within the despair of having nothing at all—
......
Troupe Leader, Whiteflower is still waiting for us for the curtain call. Why have we come here?
This is just a river... There's nothing here this time of night...
I'm afraid Whiteflower will be upset by tonight's sparse audience.
For this river here is the final stage.
Tell them, Playwright. What does the revised ending look like?
I...
The 'magician's assistant' and the 'lucky audience member' who both died on stage are stuffed into prop boxes and thrown into the river. Once the dust settles, they will wake up and emerge from the river under the stars...
They used their story deaths to distance themselves from their prison of nightmares.
That's... Blood Diamond and Abyss?
Wait, didn't they return to the castle already? Why would they be here...
Are they... running away?
......
It seems our travel plans have been interrupted, Abyss.
What... how?
The 'magician's assistant' and 'lucky audience member' came back to life... now this is true magic.
With this crowd looking on, it would seem he's a fan of this new improvised ending.
Let's go back, he's waiting for us.
Go back?
We can still run, Lucian.
Come with me. The river's wide enough, and he's far enough away...
If you choose to flee now, he'll let you go. But fear will seep into your bones, and torment you for the rest of your life.
I'll go back to him, learn all his skills, uncover all his secrets, and then destroy it all.
For such is my wretched fate.
......
Fate? Are you sure it's not just proof that you've become entranced with the Troupe, with him, once more?
If this is the pain and despair he has given me...
Then I will become his fate.
Somehow, you always understand him and his twisted aesthetics.
Yet you never listen to me... or maybe you never really wanted to escape. You've spent far too long trapped in this nightmare.
Fine then. I hope the Crimson Troupe's Blood Diamond will grant a former 'friend' one last favor—
Don't chase me. Don't come after me.
Let us part here, friend... We will meet again once this all falls to ruin.
......
......
At some point, the black creature appears inside the prop room, nimbly avoiding Moira's body as she goes over to Lucian.
With his knees bent halfway, and surrounded by mannequin parts scattered all over the ground, for once, Lucian doesn't perform the gesture of a proper gentleman's salute to her.
The lady is even more displeased by his actions.
You haven't sung in a long time, Lucian.
......
Apologies, Miss.Christine. Did you hurry here as soon as you could?
(Flicks tails without comment)
What a terrible scent. This Zalak compelled you to use your Arts, as well as the skills you were so determined to abandon.
You do know what sort of situation you've put yourself into, yes?
Chaotic, disorderly, uncontrollable... like a ball of unruly yarn I've yet to sort out.
And you wish to face him, even end him, as you are now?
...That is why I've come here, Miss.Christine.
When I stood up from the river as Shalem continued to sink below, my mind was already made.
This is the performance I've repeated the most. I cannot refuse, nor do I want to... not until the true end comes.
......
Listen, Lucian.
Lucian stays still, and does not look up.
The lady sighs, and her azure eyes light up like never before. She shakes her tails, and her body splits into two identical figures...
One walks into Lucian's shadow, while the other remains sitting before him, staring...
Both Miss.Christines speak in a staggered pattern, like a strange duet—this way she ensures Lucian will hear every word she says.
To be honest, I much prefer 'Phantom'...
It implies nothing good, but it is a name you came up with yourself.
Humans are so troublesome. Sometimes I miss the cafe where we met. Your emotions were much more complex and slovenly than they are now...
But still far better than today... The bitterness of your obsession is making me want to sneeze.
Go, meet him if you must.
If you turn into a madman, I will devour all your emotions... No matter how hard they may be to swallow.
If you cease to exist, I will haunt him, and figure out a way to make his life miserable...
After all, he can't do a thing to me.
Break a leg, Phantom.
Mrow~
Hurry... hurry! Lemme into the underground passage!
Hey! Did the storm blast your eyes blind? Do you have any idea how long I've been in this queue? Why, I oughta teach you a lesson—
No pushing or shoving, people! The passage can only fit two at a time, so don't clog up the entrance and leave space for those behind you! There's still time to get everyone in!
Miss Stone, the plate's western paths and outer guardrails have been destroyed by the storm.
If this keeps up, we won't be able to hold out for long even in the engine layer.
I sent people to move supplies in. If we can survive this calamity...
No, I'm sure we'll make it through.
Miss Rutherford, you should hurry inside! The storm will tear your dress into shreds!
So this is the wind she felt...
Huh? What'd you say?
Nothing.
Didn't you go looking for Tip to discuss the backdrop earlier? Where is she?
She seemed to have figured something out and took off. I couldn't catch up to her.
And we're supposed to be the adults. In the face of a Catastrophe, not one of us is as cool-headed and brave as her.
Because she doesn't know what fear is yet.
Only by experiencing it, hoping through it, and getting crushed by it, will she understand just how idealistic it is to keep going.
Is that not the difficulty and charm of film production itself?
...Don't tell me you wanna finish shooting this damned movie even now?
......
Miss Stone! The supplies are all underground now, and most of the crew too.
Thank you, Hautin. You should hurry down yourself.
......
Is there anything else?
I asked around, and no one's seen the director ever since we started approaching the storm.
A stagehand in charge of the west side told me earlier that the Catastrophe destroyed not just the guardrails, but some buildings too...
That's where Steven's studio is!
......
......
The storm showers Originium dust all over the exquisite, dream-creating backdrops. In an instant, only the blackened skeletons of a dozen sets remain, slanted supports scattered all over the plate.
Like a cage crushed into pieces.
Lucian pays closer attention to the wind, and it brings more voices—
Shouts and sobs, scolding and cursing, sincere prayers and subconscious wailing...
The hands of fate and the play staged by nature will not allow everyone time to take their positions.
Lucian walks into the ruins—
He sees a figure that absolutely could not have showed up right here, right now.
The Catastrophe shows no respect for the dreams crafted by man, and the storm has removed Lady Dupont's manor from the scene, leaving only a grand staircase in its wake.
Thick clouds lie low, but stage lights still shine onto the steps from afar, turning the ruins into a stage...
A middle-aged man slowly walks up the stairs.
He tugs on a curtain torn apart by the storm, trying to restore its neatness and beauty. Finally, his efforts pay off as the dirt and dust fall off the cloth, revealing its original shade of red.
He grips a bottle in hand as usual, but is not at all a listless drunkard. He checks the stage right before the show begins—there is no one more dedicated to the work than him.
Your habits haven't changed... do you require assistance?
It's almost time, Lucian.
You came at the perfect moment.
I know.
Not surprised?
Should I be?
Of course you wouldn't.
There is no way for a character who has bowed out with a real death to return to the stage.
But this is your play, where all sorts of 'miracles' occur.
'This is where the show begins, and where it should end as well.'
The Playwright might remark on how ingenuously this play has been handled.
Or perhaps he would muse on how perfect it all is.
Because once you push aside all the theatricality, this is what I look like when 'officially collaborating' with you again, after so many years apart.
How is Abyss doing? Oh, my apologies, you are more inclined to call him Shalem, I believe?
Traveling, gathering inspiration, disaster relief... In short, he won't be showing up here.
Of course. The Crimson Troupe has long since ceased to exist, and I'm glad to see the both of you walk out from its haze.
A new role, a new life, a new home... I see the company known as Rhodes Island has provided you many a revelation.
But you? Why have you come here, child?
Should I not have?
No, no. You are our most important individual now, as the curtains are about to fall on this new play.
...I'm already on the stage, after all.
Of course, of course.
The marvelous scene we saw at the opening of this show was all thanks to you and him.
Dalton personally handed you the weapon that would kill him, and his death raised the curtains on this story.
And you witnessed it all through his eyes.
Lucian, surely you felt something was off the moment you held the knife.
While I was relieved to confirm it...
I am also curious: why exactly did you swing that blade with zero hesitation...?
Once an actor takes the stage, anything unexpected must become a part of the performance.
Your lessons have been engraved into my mind, and nothing more—
Troupe Leader.
......
Long time no see, Lucian.