Morimens story · Main Story
Waxen Legacy
28 scenes, 1,329 lines
1. Galatea, before the fight
39 linesSummer, A.F. 295 Scarborough, North Yorkshire
This is my most precious creation, Galatea.
Have you heard the tale of Pygmalion?
He carved a perfect maiden from ivory, dressing and caressing her as his beloved bride...
Pouring all his devotion into her.
"Galatea", such a lovely name, don't you think?
Forgive my rambling. You must find this tedious.
No, no, sir. Please, sir...
My parents are respectable and wealthy. They will give you money...
As long as you let me go.
Shh... Quiet, you'll disturb her rest.
Come here, little one.
Closer now, no need to fear.
Observe her hands. Aren't they exquisite?
Even the purest marble would weep with envy.
B...Beautiful, sir.
How unfortunate... I see no admiration in your eyes, only revulsion...
No, it's not... Please give me another chance!
No matter, I shall educate you properly and lift the veil from your ignorant eyes. Now the first lesson...
Kneel.
Now I command you, kneel.
Kneel, and press your reverent lips...
To Galatea, to your "Mother."
That was my first time kissing the "Mother."
The pale hand, carefully wrapped in sticky wax oil, emitted a faint stench under the scorching heat of Scarborough's midsummer.
It was the smell of death.
21:00, Southwark Street
Calling communicator I-2069, calling communicator I-2069...
The 25th communication attempt failed. We have lost the connection with Investigator William Delapore.
Can you get in touch with the detectives accompanying William?
Unfortunately, no. Let's call it a day and report back to Mythag. No rash moves until we have more information.
That's it? But we've lost contact with William, and he may be...
Bunch of scaredy-cats.
Now excuse me, my sister doesn't have time for your slow paperwork.
I can go to that wax museum alone.
Squeak!
Saying that, Jenkin turns, diving into the thick fog.
Jenkin! Don't! It's too dangerous!
Let's go.
2. Galatea, after the fight
42 linesThe wax museum, at long last.
Confirming mission objectives. Mission 1: Go to the Rogers Wax Museum to find Miss Mason and Investigator William.
Quest 2: Investigate the connection between Rogers and the "Workhouse Disappearance Case."
Please confirm.
Mission objective confirmed. Beginning investigation now.
Confirmed. Communication stays on; the investigation process will be recorded. Risk level: High. Please proceed with caution.
May the Silver Key light your path.
You raise your head and gaze at the desolate street scene.
Beyond the mist, a ghostly red streetlamp flickers, dimly illuminating the signs of nearby shops.
"Rogers Wax Museum", You finally make out the weathered lettering on the sign.
Jenkin, can you give me a general description of Miss Mason's appearance?
...
So, is her sister a real person in the physical world, or merely a figure wandering in her spiritual fantasies?
Ramona frowns, falling into an eerie silence with Jenkin.
Hmm... maybe we should examine the newspaper photos together?
You unfold the newspaper from Jenkin, only to find the ink seems alive, gradually dissolving...
Until you can no longer make out the report about "Primavera".
The damaged watermarks and ink stains seem hell-bent on completely erasing Mason's existence.
...
What sorcery is this? I've read this newspaper a thousand times.
But now... I can't remember a single word.
Wait, you don't remember anything at all?
The outstanding defender of Cubism, the reincarnation of Botticelli's soul, is now in hiding at a wax museum on the corner of Southwark Street...
See? I can even quote that news article word for word.
The newspaper was Dissoluted. Likely a mass amnesia event, yet...
Ramona and Jenkin turn to you at the same time.
Looks like it doesn't work on a certain someone.
...
Believe it or not, this doesn't feel right at all...
It seems that, without anyone realizing it, the past is altered, and the story deviates from its intended path.
And you are the sole witness to these changes.
Creak...
The tightly shut doors of the wax museum suddenly open, as if to welcome some unexpected guests.
Did the door... just open itself?
...Looks like our infiltration plan needs reevaluation.
Let's go, %player%. Find Mason and William before our memories fade entirely.
3. Three Rules, before the fight
69 linesDing-dong...
A wave of intense dizziness washes over you as you open the door.
Your vision darkens, and you seem to hear a faint electric current.
Then a fragrance, a blend of violet and cardamom, with a hint of unique wood scent.
Sniff sniff... Something smells amazing!
...
A woman sways gracefully past you.
Hey, who's there...
She is a guest at the wax museum, not the target of our investigation.
Let me reiterate: we're acting as visitors to this wax museum...
...and don't do or say anything stupid, You've talked my ears off!
Good. Let's move in.
21:55, Rogers Wax Museum Front Hall
The furnishings are old and dusty, with a faint stench lingering in the air.
A girl sits at the front desk, engrossed in a magazine titled "Animal Care Guide".
Good evening, ma'am. Pardon me, is this the Rogers Wax Museum?
...
Is it now open to visitors?
...
Hm hm hm, la la la...
How unfortunate. Looks like this lady has some hearing problems. Let's just go in.
Jeez, such rudeness right from the start. If you're trying to catch my eye...
Then congratulations, sweetie... You just did.
...
Pfft. Sweetie?
Welcome, darlings~ The name's Pandia, your humble little curator of the Rogers Wax Museum.
So what brings you out so late, hmm? Here for a little artistic soul-cleansing... or are you nosy little thieves, swiping bits and pieces like those snooty med students?
...Medical students? Steal specimens?
Oh my! Unless... you're here for some @2 with little ol' me?
Wait... Did my mind just censor something unspeakable...
We're huge fans of Master Rogers! Came to see his masterpiece, the, uh... the B-Ba...
...The Baltic Sea's Primadonna! Right?
...Not bad, at least she knows the Baltic Sea.
Wait, was it the Bosnian Prima Donna? Barbarossa? ...Or Banana?
Jenkin. No one asked.
Forgive us. My friend may lack refinement, but her passion for art burns brighter than any scholar's.
I believe she meant to say Botticelli's Primavera.
Hmm... Is that so?
Sorry to let you down, sweetie, but Master Rogers happens to have an outing tonight.
WHAT?! Then how are we supposed to...
Jenkin.
Ahem... I mean... It's fine. If that creep... If Mr. Rogers isn't here, we'll just look around ourselves...
Hmm...
Primavera is Master Rogers' masterpiece, passion, genius, and pure perversion, all in one~ Well, since you sweeties have decent taste...
I might let you in, if you promise to behave.
Now, sweethearts, are you gonna behave?
Yes.
Hmm... Boring.
Okay then, rule-abiding little lambs. Come on over. Keep your tails between your legs.
No.
It's okay, it's okay. I LOVE teaching disobedient guests a lesson!
Three days, and I'll make you all docile, good little lambs.
She leads you to the exhibition hall's entrance and strikes an authoritative stance, every bit the proper curator.
Listen closely, sweeties. Three rules must never, ever, be broken!
First: Do not touch the waxworks.
Second: Do not lift their covers.
Third: No blood shall spill upon these halls.
Three rules. Simple, yes?
How... peculiar. Did Mr. Rogers devise these?
Commercial secrets, hon.
Yeah right. Like rules ever stopped me.
Bet I could do whatever I want and you wouldn't notice...
Aww, naughty mice are so delightfully tiresome. A free tip from me, then.
You wouldn't want to try your luck.
Break them and, oh sweetie, you'll wish all you'd done was knock over granny's rouge box, times a hundred. No, a thousand~
Tch. Spooky act needs work.
One last thing: We don't do guided tours. So if anything... unfortunate befalls you...
Well, that's your problem.
Now, please enjoy your time at the exhibition!
4. Dollhouse, before the fight
59 linesSummer, A.F. 295 Scarborough, North Yorkshire
Old Charlie's tabby, fat and dear,
One day just vanished, disappeared; he searched the wardrobe, he checked the bed...
...
Mother, do I sing well??
Today marks the fifteenth day I have spent with "Galatea," my new Mother.
Looking at her gentle face and perfectly polished demeanor, I feel a sudden surge of emotion.
I gently rest my head against her chest.
Mother...
You're growing more accustomed to Mother's presence, I see.
...M-Mr. Wax.
Magnificent, isn't she? She was quite plain before.
A street singer, poor thing, ravaged by disease, her skin a canvas of scarlet lesions.
I watched the life drain from her battered body, then gathered her pieces to create this perfection.
I can't tell at all... Is this magic?
This isn't magic, child. This is the art of wax.
Art of... wax...
I look at the "Mother": dim candlelight gives her face a jade-like glow, highlighting the smile on her lips.
My gaze sweeps inch by inch, trying to find any trace of poverty or hardship on her, but to no avail.
Not feeling like talking? Fear not, I've no plans to sculpt you yet... You may speak freely here.
They say I'm s-sick, need to receive treatment, and shouldn't talk carelessly.
Stutter? How did they... treat it?
F-fire tongs, and @2 tincture...
@2 tincture? Such crude medicine.
I don't know. Mom said it would help r-relax the muscles in my throat.
It was a painful experience. Mom was obsessed with various "novel" therapies and manipulated me as if I were her toy.
Every morning, I was made to stand on the high steps, my mouth filled with sharp gravel.
Sing. Mommy told me to sing.
So I loudly sang the cheerful alphabet song, with blood gushing from my mouth and flowing down to my chest.
No tears now, child. Every sculpture here cradles a tragedy.
They would have rotted unnoticed, their sorrows washed into the gutters by the rain.
As if their pain never existed.
Never... existed...
Cruel, isn't it? I wished to help, but this rusted chisel was all I had.
Thus I became their chronicler... though soon, mere documentation ceased to satisfy.
You... changed them.
Remember, then remake, this is my artistic creed.
A demanding path, my child, yet endlessly fascinating.
When your time comes, you'll part seas like the prophets of old.
Tongs or @2 tinctures... such trifles won't matter anymore.
22:15, Rogers Wax Museum Exhibition Area
You walk through the ancient and worn wax museum.
Almost no natural light enters the hall, and the few scattered kerosene lamps do little to dispel the eerie atmosphere.
You gaze at these exquisitely crafted wax sculptures.
Some with pursed lips, some dozing off, and others holding parasols... The only thing they have in common is their radiant smiles.
Creepy. Seriously. Are they happy? But their eyes are totally dead.
If you ask me, Rogers is all talk.
According to our database, "laughter" seems to be one of Rogers' recurring themes. Would you agree, Doll?
Doll?
Shhhh... Shhhhh...
You tap the brooch, but there is no response. The entire wax museum is as silent as a giant tomb.
The communicator is working fine, but the signal just dropped... What happened?
When we entered the wax museum, I seemed to have heard an electric current... Something's interfering with the communication?
!!
I heard that too.
So what now? The plan requires Miss Doll's assistance...
Pandia's work, perhaps. Let's go back to her.
5. Dollhouse, after the fight
21 linesNo tabby found, though he searched with care...
He cried and cried... till Charlie, too, was never there...
Never there!
The cheerful wax sculptures hold hands and wobble through the dim corridors of the wax museum.
Whew... We're safe, for now.
This is all my fault... I put everyone in danger.
Don't blame yourself. There are things normal people can't handle.
...I really envy you.
I hate being normal. Normal people are useless.
Can't control their own fate, can't help others.
Just like me, watching Aigis disappear right in front of me...
Jenkin sniffs suddenly as she speaks.
Ugh, what am I saying. I'm no longer a normal person after hanging with you all, heh.
Jenkin...
Ramona lets out a soft sigh and gently pats Jenkin's head.
No wonder you've been upset. Are you blaming yourself? Let me share something with you.
When disaster strikes, it makes no distinction between a Keeper and a street beggar.
This is only my second mission with %player%. I'm barely more experienced than you are.
There's still so much I could learn from you, "Master Street Survivalist".
6. 24, before the fight
27 linesPandia... that girl's downright weird.
When I touched that... thing in her stomach, it felt way too real!
But she was clearly wax...
Enough talk, let's put it to test. I grabbed something when we tussled with those wax sculptures.
Y-You grabbed THIS?!
"Teen Girl Tackles Chaos HEAD-ON"... Our reporter Hannah is gonna love that HEADline.
Ramona offers no reply, her fingers deftly probing within the cranial cavity with measured precision.
You look... too good at this. Almost like Ol' Johnny, the butcher next door.
As I should. My dissection grades at Mythag over the last three years? A+, A+, A++.
There's residual human tissue and blood in the cranium... just as the rumors say, the wax figures are indeed made from living people.
I knew it... Artist, almoner, my butt. Knew he's up to no good.
You look around. The wax sculptures with sweet smiles fill the display room, like the happiest children, adults, and pets in the world.
Who would have thought that this happiness was built with real human flesh?
Click. Click. Click.
With a faint whimper, a pair of hands emerges from the darkness, gently caressing Jenkin's cheek.
Jenkin... Heads up! Something's behind you!
?!
Waaah...
A shadowy figure writhes slowly within the wax sculpture, like a baby eager to be born, stretching the soft wax into a nearly transparent film.
Something's emerging from that wax sculpture...
A head.
A head of a woman. It slithers out of the wax sculpture, long hair covered in oily wax.
It lifts its face, revealing hollow, blackened eyes.
Help...
Save me...
7. 24, after the fight
55 linesHmm...!!
What... is going on...
24 sits on the ground, dazed, and touches her head.
D-Don't kill me... I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to...
You're trapped here, aren't you... just like everyone else... Just like me.
I'm familiar with this wax museum. I can lead you out! If... if I can remember...
Here's the deal: find the "Primavera" for us, and you'll earn your freedom.
Upon hearing "Primavera," 24's pupils suddenly contract, and their eyebrows furrow.
Sorry, I...
Ramona draws a rapier and lightly places it on 24's shoulder.
Miss 24, your reaction tells me everything. Lead us to the wax sculpture now, or die by my hand.
Make your choice.
...
This wax sculpture... "Primavera," is it important to you?
I'm looking for my sister, Mason.
It sounds crazy, but I can't remember what she looks like...
She might have been turned into a wax figure and hidden in a set called... Bottom's Primadonna.
It's "Botticelli's Primavera"... actually, never mind.
I don't understand... You said Mason is your sister, but you can't recall what she looks like?
Ah! Sorry, I didn't mean to question you...
Grandma Vanessa?
My old landlord. Besides rent day, she couldn't make sense of anything else.
Dang it! Why do I only remember the bad stuff...
I see.
So, won't you end up like me, remembering nothing at all?
Maybe, who knows?
But I don't care. I WILL recognize sis as long as she comes to me.
Ahem... Forget I said anything.
You're just some poor sap who remembers nothing.
Yeah... I can't do anything, and I don't remember anything.
24's tears well up once more.
I'm so useless...
...
I wanted to do more, but... but I'm so useless. These chores are all I can handle...
Alright, alright... I won't cry... I'm sorry...
Jenkin stands with hands on hips, raising her sharp little chin.
Alright... alright...
Seeing 24 so obedient, Jenkin nods with satisfaction.
No, no! The wax sculpture is in the Studio, not over there...
...
You have something to say?
I'm just trying to understand... Why did she fly off the handle, then suddenly cool down?
Easy. She's just a child grieving her lost friend, trying to help both 24 and herself.
In her own... unique way.
8. Scarborough Summer, before the fight
45 linesSummer, A.F. 295 Scarborough, North Yorkshire
He's dead. Now, it's just you and me.
What's your name?
G-Geor...
Geor... ge...
Remember, you and I are different. You don't s-stutter.
Let's p-practice again. What is your name?
...
George, my name is George.
June @1, A.F. 295
It was a chaotic day until they opened the cellar door, letting the sunlight in...
Only then did I realize that my garden, my kingdom, was merely a narrow basement.
Child! My child... I've finally found you!
Quick, leave here with Mom and never return...
George...
...What?
George... I want to go with George.
"George"? You mean this little wax sculpture?
George! Please, please give it back to me...
Don't rush, little one. Answer my question first.
Where did "Mr. Wax" go?
Mr. Wax...? I-I don't know what you're talking about...
Hehe. You really don't know? Let me ask you another question.
How did this wax sculpture come about?
...
Mom, I... I'm scared.
Detective, watch your tone.
Should your investigation require anything from us, feel free to contact our lawyer Franz @1. Good day.
The elegantly dressed woman raises her pointed chin, glances sideways at the detective, then takes the boy and leaves.
Hehe... Interesting.
The studio! Finally! You ARE useful after all!
Is, is that so... Thank you...
You look around. It's another dim place.
The wall lamp in the corner flickers faintly, casting a grayish hue on the moonlight streaming through the window.
An empty room filled with wax arms, legs, heads, and torsos...
They are like soft, torn socks, casually piled on benches, worktables, and floors.
This confirms Rogers' involvement. Furthermore, it strongly implicates the Sculptors' Association.
Ramona pokes the piled-up limbs as she speaks.
All these specimens show signs of experimentation, matching what we saw in the workhouse.
Rogers needs to face justice. But first, we have to locate the "Primavera".
Finding things is my thing. Leave it to me!
9. Scarborough Summer, after the fight
9 linesFound it, the "Primavera"!
You look in the direction pointed by 24.
The graceful wax sculptures in gossamer gowns dance hand in hand under the crimson moonlight.
If not for their twisted smiles and tear-streaked makeup, this would be a delightful piece of art.
One is missing.
Mason, portraying the "Chaste" goddess Sereya, should be positioned in the center.
Help...
A faint cry for help comes from the corner.
Help... help me... it's eating me alive...
10. Smoke and Violet, before the fight
33 lines19:05, Rogers Wax Museum Four hours ago
Splash!
The detectives swiftly shatter the display window glass, knocking down wax sculptures one by one.
B-brutes, this is a desecration of art...
NOO!!!
Mr. Rogers, you are suspected of involvement in the White Chapel District disappearances. According to Treaty Article 112, we have the right to detain and interrogate you at the Committee.
I'll go with you. Just, just don't destroy my work,
Wait, I have something to say to him.
...Five minutes.
Rogers, Rogers... so we meet again.
And you are...?
The last time I saw you, you were 8 or 9? Sitting among a pile of corpses and wax sculptures.
When your mother took you away, you were crying and refusing to leave.
Heh... I've been a detective for 30 years. The moment I saw your eyes, I knew you were a complete scoundrel, a real piece of trash.
So, it's you.
I knew you killed "Mr. Wax" from the very beginning.
Tell me, where did you hide him afterward?
...
Speak. You're a stutterer, not a mute.
...
R-right here.
...What?
He's everywhere... underground, in the display window, in my nightmares...
and... behind you.
The moment Rogers spoke, a thin red line appeared across the detective's neck.
His head slid from his shoulders, rolling across the ground, eyes still wide open.
Who's there? Show yourself!
The rich scent of narcissus flows slowly through the night, enveloping William in stacks of pale purple mist.
Daydreaming isn't a good habit, Investigator.
23:30, Rogers Wax Museum Studio
Help... help me... it's eating me alive...
A woman's voice... Sis?!
That noise seems to be coming from over there. Let's check it out.
11. Smoke and Violet, after the fight
40 linesKnocked down on the ground, the woman still has blood staining the corner of her mouth.
Oh my, your blood has such a peculiar flavor... It makes my thoughts swim in circles.
Let me guess, you're not quite human, but not quite Awakener either...
Ramona stands between you, frowning at the woman.
Who are you? Why are you here?
But thanks anyway. I haven't fed properly for a long week. Your generosity is appreciated...
Ramona draws her rapier and holds it against the woman's chest.
I won't ask again.
The woman glances at the blade pointed at her, her eyes flickering briefly before she suddenly straightens up.
So... If I refuse to answer, will you plunge that into me?
Will you do it hard, nice and deep?
Will you? Will you?
...
If you refuse to answer, we won't harm you. We'll simply ignore you and leave.
Is that clear?
Oh... I see...
Stop, Ramona!
Jenkin rushes to the woman, urgently grabbing her wrist and pulling her over.
Sis... Is that you?
Sis...?
Her wandering gaze gently falls on Jenkin, and after a moment, she suddenly laughs.
Oh my. If you're calling me sister, you must be from that life I've forgotten.
Locked underground for three glorious years... 1235 exquisite days, courtesy of my loving family.
What the?!
Nonsense! I'd never do that to you!
Hmm, why not? The Dissolution helps. Ever since I fell ill, my mind swims in crimson rivers of blood.
You feared I'd harm others, feared I'd disgrace you, so you tucked me away so nicely...
Jenkin, you're not keeping secrets from us, are you...?
The woman deftly pounces on Jenkin, raising her delicate wrist.
See? Pretty shackles on my wrists, my ankles, even this lovely collar around my throat.
I... I...
Three years of rat's blood cocktails, and now I smell like a butcher's floor.
Jenkin's face turns red as she clenches her fists and glares defiantly at the woman.
...Family?
Seemingly not expecting Jenkin's response, the previously noisy woman finally quiets down.
...
Just teasing, little mouse.
I have no family, and I'm certainly not your sister. You're mistaking me for someone else.
12. Medic's Manual, before the fight
80 linesIt is a black, viscous substance.
It gushes from underground fissures, drips along the veins of leaves, and even flows from people's mouths.
We call it "Dissolution." It's everywhere, yet invisible.
People infected by Dissolution will gradually be forgotten by the world.
Letters, records, photos... All evidence of his existence will be erased. It's as if...
They have never been in this world.
Winter, AF @2 Londinium
It was a winter night six years ago when I first saw snow in Londinium, and the girl lying in it.
Help... help me... it's eating me alive...
Black D-Slime oozed from her eye sockets, thick and ceaseless, yet she seemed not to notice.
Ugly thing! George doesn't wanna look at that ugly thing!
I reached out and pressed my palm over her right eye.
This is better, m-much nicer. Do you want to survive?
The girl nodded with all her might.
Don't worry, I'll fulfill your wish.
But in another way.
There you are, Mr. Rogers.
And you are...?
You can call me Herbert. I'm very interested in your wax arts... There's a nice bar across the street. Care for a drink?
You shared a drink together. What happened afterward?
Later, I accepted Mr. Herbert's invitation to join him in researching some t-topics.
In return, he would provide me with some "materials" for wax sculptures.
Understood. I have fully grasped your story, so...
Mr. Rogers, you killed "Mr. Wax."
You killed the woman in the snow.
You killed those children as well. Am I correct?
I... I never...
Oh? I saw them clearly at the workhouse, those missing children.
Mr. Rogers, since you have chosen to undergo treatment, please be honest with me.
We need trust between us.
Does it t-truly matter, Miss Clementine?
Whether it is important depends on your answer. Before that, everything remains unknown.
However, sometimes this sense of the unknown is what exactly attracts us...
Sorry, Mr. Rogers, I shouldn't have pressed you like that.
Stop playing games, bitch. You're enjoying Master Rogers' agony, aren't you?
Master Rogers never tells lies.
We never killed; we just... helped.
We make their wax sculpture dreams come true.
Wrong person? No way, you're wearing their clothes...
The "Primavera" is a collection of wax sculptures. Are you saying we're all your sisters?
There was a time when Master Rogers dressed us in matching little outfits, like perfect frozen mannequins.
The woman lifts the hem of her dress, rubs it gently, then brings it to her nose to sniff.
Eww, it stinks. A shame I haven't worn decent clothing in ages.
Did you just say Master Rogers? Are you one of his subordinates?
Well that's another question. What will you... give me in return?
In return? Very well, here it is.
Ramona takes a deep breath and suddenly thrusts her sword into Leigh's shoulder.
Ramona!!!
Stand down. I know what I'm doing.
Now Miss, we're short on time. Can you give us a straight answer?
The woman's pale face flushes red. She trembles as she laughs.
...Good... So wonderfully good... The pain is just perfect...
If you have questions, by all means... ask away.
Who gave you the instruction?
Sorry... This is the one answer I can never give you.
And why?
Because of love.
...Huh?
Agonizing, scorching, hopeless love!
Upon her frozen altar, I offer my sobs, my whispers, and my most...
Precious soul!
...
Why did you become an Awakener?
To survive, obviously. My sacred vow to @1...
The woman gently strokes the blurred black code on her wrist, her voice soft and mellifluous.
See this? They brand each successful specimen with a code. Our special, unique, irreplaceable...
"They"... You're referring to the Sculptors' Association?
She does not respond, seemingly confirming your guess.
...
Is someone like her really my sis...? What do you think, Brown?
The mouse leaps onto her shoulder, nuzzling against her affectionately.
Squeak!
Oh dear, mice love me as they always do.
Rotting, sprouting sewer-dwellers share such curious kinship with rodents.
You've been in sewers too? No way this is coincidence...
Bang! Bang!
The inquiry barely ends when dull thuds echo from the depths of the cellar.
You hold your breath, hearing intermittent, muffled cries, low and repressed.
Hungry...
<Change>Hungry... I'm so hungry HUNGRY HUNGRY HUNGRY
13. Get 'em! Brown!, before the fight
60 linesQuiet, everyone.
Everyone falls silent. The muffled sobs turn into long, continuous shrieks.
Half wailing, half terror, like an echo from hells.
After an indeterminate time, the sounds fade.
Wh-What's that...
Oh my. The master has returned. The precious pets in the basement have missed him terribly.
23:00, Dr. Fairfax's Clinic One Hour Ago
Time's up. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Rogers. I apologize for the slight misunderstanding that occurred earlier.
I-it's okay, Miss Clementine.
I feel much lighter and more at ease now, and my mood has calmed down after the wax sculpture was damaged.
Is this the magic of psychotherapy? It seems to have something in common with wax art...
Tsk.
George, say goodbye to Miss Clementine.
...Hmph.
Goodbye, Miss Clementine.
Sob... And that's it. Even Mr. Lawrence...
Hehehe, so stupid, so very stupid...
Punish her now, peel her face right off!
Punishment! Punishment! Punishment...
Hush now, my precious ones.
Ugh, so annoying! It's just a teeny little wax museum, why does everyone have to come stomping in?
Boom,
Waaah...
Ah! What was that noise? Could it be...
Waking, it's waking up... Run away!
...
Aww, all gone? What a bunch of scaredy-cats.
Master Rogers, do come out. I spotted darling little George!
My darlings wouldn't fuss for no reason~ You're back, aren't you, Master Rogers?
G-good evening, Pandia.
Did you enjoy your little chat with Miss Clementine today? I paid such a pretty penny for your treatment!
Pandia, h-hurry and leave this place quickly! And take George with you...
Leave?? What silly things are you saying, Master Rogers?
We've already imprisoned an in-investigator, and now another has arrived...
I have a b-bad feeling. Mythag seems to have locked their eyes on me...
Don't you worry, Master Rogers~ Leave the boring stuff to your Pandia!
I've planted a darling little mole among them, and sweet George will assist too. Flawless!
Did you just mention the master returning?
Am I correct in assuming your real goal is to delay us until Rogers arrives?
Yes, yes! I'm guilty of endless sins, utterly unforgivable...
Punish me harder!
...
Personally, I hope you're not Miss Mason, so I won't have to hold back.
%player%, shall we investigate the creatures underground?
Of course.
There could be Rogers' victims down there. We can't just walk away.
That's right. Let's find a passage leading underground.
No.
My gut tells me there's something wrong with that sound. We should keep our distance.
Remember, Keeper: We're here for investigation, not sightseeing.
No way you can deny that. You realize that your survival instinct has overcome your sense of duty.
Y-You've got a point...
Good. Let's look for an access to underground areas.
You use all your strength, but the trapdoor merely opens a crack.
No good, it won't budge.
Squeak!
14. Get 'em! Brown!, after the fight
48 lines12:25, Rogers Wax Museum Studio
Squeak!
Brown, you're back!
Brown lies weakly in Jenkin's arms, wrinkling its nose before sobbing.
Squeak... Squeak!!
Oh my, do mice get sick too? How educational.
Squeak, ugh... squeak squeak...
Hmm, what next?
Squeak squeak squeak...
Got it. Good job, Brown.
Brown says it was too dark, couldn't see much. Just brought this back.
Jenkin pries open Brown's tiny paw and pulls out a small document pouch.
Oh, let me read what's written here.
Hey, that's mine!
She unfolds the letter. It contains hastily scribbled words, written in a rush.
Jenkin, I think I won't live much longer @2 They are turning people into wax sculptures, and soon it will be my turn @4 @2 I've talked to Mr. Davis @1 ...He'll let you work in his factory. Mr. Davis is strict, but they offer pea soup and black bread for lunch every day. Remember not to backtalk him. Also, I left all the money in @4
She pauses at the end.
She bears a peculiar expression, as if lost in deep thought, yet her mind seemed to have wandered far away.
Why'd you stop reading? There's still more to go!
She places the letter in your hand without a word.
You unfold it, only greetings and a signature remain.
...Even now, I still miss the days we sunbathed together in Wood Park.
With love, Mason.
Miss Mason was definitely imprisoned here. She took enormous risks to write this letter.
She never lost hope, and she never forgot about you.
A hand reaches out, gently covering Jenkin's hand.
This hand is riddled with scars. Bathed in moonlight, the bluish-black veins and wounds are unmistakable.
Don't cry, and don't apologize.
That's what you warned me about.
24...
At least you're still alive, and there's still hope.
I believe your sister would have hoped for this as well.
The girl replies in a sullen tone, with a barely noticeable nasal quality.
Anyway, you finally find traces of Mason.
Finally some good news.
15. Cedarwood, before the fight
23 lines12:40, Rogers Wax Museum Studio
Odd, I thought the basement was supposed to house monsters?
How did Brown manage to find what Miss Mason hid?
Ramona takes the letter paper, flips through it, and then brings it close to her nose.
A faint cologne scent... It's William's signature fragrance.
William?!
You crouch down and stretch your neck towards the trapdoor leading to the cellar.
William, are you down there?
Hey, cologne guy, you listening...
You try to keep your voices low, but can no longer suppress your anxiety and urgency.
Cries echo one after another, and soon, a muffled response emerges from the depths.
...So noisy.
Cough... Cough...
Thank goodness, William! I was afraid...
I'm fine, just a few scratches and bruises. But the detective with me...
Daydreaming isn't a good habit, Investigator.
I didn't expect that woman to have dealings with the Sculptors' Association. I wasn't cautious enough.
By the way, did you guys just see a small wax sculpture? Golden curls, wearing a black suit...
Just come up here and look! Tons of wax figures! That style? I can find ten like that right now.
It's just overwhelming!
...It's not an ordinary wax sculpture. Judging by your reactions, you probably haven't seen it before.
This isn't a good place to talk. Give me ten minutes.
We'll force open that trapdoor and come down after you.
16. Cedarwood, after the fight
40 linesYou tried everything, but the trapdoor remains unmoved.
Damn it, won't open...
Go back.
What in the...?
I said, "Go back."
You kidding? We barely got in!
There are many... monsters down here, more than you can handle. Didn't Doll warn you?
What about you? We can't just leave you here.
There's a B-level rift, and it will take a long time to handle. I can't leave here. Listen, I'll say this only once...
Our investigation has been exposed. Now, both of the remaining exits are guarded.
I found a door leading to the outside nearby. It's special, locked from the inside.
Rogers must have rigged with it; it can't be opened by ordinary means.
You need to go to the Master Office, ahem, and get a key...
I have found quite a few things. Accounts, reports, contracts... enough to keep Rogers in prison for the rest of his life.
I'll give them to you just in case, then...
Ahh!!
The woman in white, she... she's disappeared...
You look towards where the woman once stood. It is empty now, with only the white curtains fluttering in the wind.
Disappeared... what happened?
I... I don't know. She was just here...
Jenkin angrily rushes to 24 and grabs her hand.
It was you, wasn't it? I heard you two whispering. Still trying to pretend you didn't know her?
No, no... Miss Jenkin, listen to me! Even the police need evidence to convict a criminal...
We were all watching William, except you two. Are you blind and deaf?
She may be weird, but what if she is my sis...
I'll ask again: where'd she go?
In the scuffle, 24 falls to the ground, her long hair pushed aside.
What's this... 0, 2, 4?
On the woman's fair neck, there is a prominent black code "024".
You saw similar patterns somewhere else not long ago.
See this? They brand each successful specimen with a code. Our special, unique, irreplaceable...
That's... the Sculptors' Association...
?!
24 futilely clutches her neck, her face extremely pale.
I knew it... She's a liar! And I actually...
I see. We were all distracted by Miss 24's... episode.
No ordinary victim could navigate this wax museum so freely.
No, no...
24 sits on the ground, mechanically scratching the code on her neck until it becomes a bloody mess.
It's not what you think, not what you think...
17. Anatomical Melancholy, before the fight
27 linesPlease hear me out! They made me to! It was I who pushed you...
It was you? Good... At least you admit it!
I realized you're good, so I decided to join you...
Just answer one question, Miss 24: Did you let her go?
!!
Was this another case of coercion?
In fact...
Wait. You really think we'll buy that?
You've been faking madness, following us, trying to hurt my sis... or someone who might be her...
You must be a spy sent by that damn association!
...
...
Aaahh!! Why won't you listen to my explanation?!
Faced with your relentless questioning, 24 suddenly freaks out.
Listen to me, you @4 LISTEN TO ME!! AAAHHHH!!
Fine, I'm listening... Ugh, she's losing it...
24 breathes heavily with veins bulging on their face.
Hey, your face veins...
Hehe... Yes, that's the look. I see...
Fear.
Disgust.
A freak. That's me. An ugly monster abandoned like me...
No one comes near me, no one trusts me...
Dark red arms once again emerge from within 24, tightly wrapping around her neck.
I'm not a monster, I'm not a monster...
She's losing control again! We need to evacuate immediately!
I'm not a @4 monster... AAAAHHHHH@2!!
18. Anatomical Melancholy, after the fight
59 linesDang, lost her... What is this place? Total mess.
This appears to be Rogers' office. The tea on the desk is still warm. Someone was here recently.
Brown, who's been dozing on Jenkin's shoulder, suddenly lets out a faint cry. It opens its blood-red eyes and scans the surroundings uneasily.
Squeak...
You're so very hungry, little mouse...
I know... you're starving...
Squeak!
Wait, why did Brown jump down?
Being neglected, the mouse wobbles its plump body, stumbling toward the corner of the office.
In the corner stands a small wax sculpture covered with a white cloth, waiting patiently...
...waiting patiently to be unveiled.
Good, just like that... So much food inside, all delicious cheese...
Just a little tug...
Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!
...Brown?
Brown has climbed onto the base of the wax sculpture, his tiny paws struggling to pull at the cover.
No! The wax museum's second rule is...
Do not lift their covers.
At least someone here is still thinking clearly.
No loud noises.
If these rules were real, we'd already be dead.
I don't remember anything.
If you're trying to anger me, you've made it. Well played.
Rule 2: Do not lift their covers.
We need to stop this immediately before it's too late!
Brown, stop now! Or... or I'll ditch you!
Facing Jenkin's threat, the little mouse shows no fear.
It squints its eyes, puffs out its chest like a boastful little general, and then skillfully lifts the cover.
Boohoo... my eyes, my eyes...
Too bright, too bright...
Brown, you-you-you!!
Below the cloth stands a bust of an adult man.
His eyebrows shoot up, his gaunt face etched with deep lines, and his lips tightly closed.
This face leaves a deep impression on you: the notorious wax sculptor from the newspaper.
You gaze into the wax sculpture's hollow eye sockets, thinking there is something different, its eyes are gouged out.
Ding! Ding!
The bell rings again, more urgent and intense than before, echoing through the dimly lit room, as piercing as a shrill laugh.
Ahem, it's Pandia's special announcement time!
Oh my, my careless little mouse, you went and lifted the cover!
And so, ladies and gents, rule number two is officially BROKEN~
Brown, Brown didn't mean it...
Hehe, why not save the explanation for them, once you're tucked in nice and deep underground~
Oh silly me, I nearly forgot, they can't understand a word! Oh hohoho!
The girl's lively laughter gradually fades from the broadcast. You begin to feel dizzy.
Oh no... My head's getting foggy...
Your head feels increasingly heavy.
On this hallucinatory night, you are a moth trapped in amber, encased in the black resin of laughter and song, sinking to the deepest, darkest depths.
Hehe. Strangle them, strangle them, STRANGLE THEM!
Choke them, choke them...
No, no...!
...
Just before you suffocate, someone tightly grasps your hand.
Stay strong, %player%. We'll get through this.
Ramona, you're the one who's frightened. Your hands won't stop shaking...
...
In the darkness, you hear a faint girl's laughter, as if it is far away yet seemingly close by.
You too, %player%.
19. Undercanal, before the fight
115 linesYay, everyone's here~ Now we can put together a fabulous little welcome gift for Mythag.
Though I gotta say, this moment took foreeever to get here. Like, a teeny bit, no, SUPER long.
24, my precious 24, come over.
...Yes, Lady Pandia.
SLAP!
The black whip flicks, and 24 is knocked to the ground, with red welts instantly appearing on her body.
Umm...!
I waited and waited 'til I almost dozed off, and still no you~ Had to send George out to drag you over.
Ah, so drowsy, so drowsy!
Be slow again and I'll tuck you into a coffin permanently!
Sorry, Miss Pandia...
LADY PANDIA!!
A woman's figure drifts by like a cloud, her long skirt swirling with a white glow. She kneels prostrate before Pandia.
Lady Pandia! Please don't hurt 24 like this. If someone must be punished...
Let it be me!
My lady, I know you can't bring yourself to scold me. You've always been so kind...
Your every wish is my command, Lady Pandia.
There we go~ Just like that... Now turn around, ten little steps forward, out the door, and don't you dare look back.
Got it, sweetie?
Understood... I'll miss you terribly, Lady Pandia... No, I already miss you now!
The woman turns around and thoughtfully closes the door before leaving.
Phew... Such a headache, honestly.
After making sure the door is tightly closed, Pandia takes a deep breath and returns to her usual energy.
Now my lovelies, where were we?
Breathing... so difficult.
...
Stay still. Your makeup requires attention.
Oh dear, the lips need more work. Hmm...
It's you, Rogers...
Cold fingers brush against the corner of your lips, and you smell the pungent odor of decay.
You try to move, but realize your entire body is trapped in cold, hard machinery.
Splendid. You're ideal sculpture material.
Don't twitch! It was such effort to arrange you so perfectly.
See that lovely coffin there? Custom-made just for you. You'll be experiencing a marvelous rebirth!
As wax statues, of course, hehe. What theme should we go with this time? Hmm...
Ramona... Ramona?! For heaven's sake, stop that singing...
She's been like this since I woke up, singing nonstop.
Your companion makes such an adorable sculpture. Master Rogers worked for a full hour.
No tabby! Meow!
Well? Isn't it precious? Don't you just want to take it home?
Tch, get your dirty hands off her!
Rogers, you're the one who knocked me out in the workshop.
You're the one who got Aigis and Little Mac killed, made my sis disappear...
What is Aigis?
Excuse me, but George doesn't bother with names of thrown-away things and garbage.
Who you calling names?! You pig!
Hmm, isn't it true? You're Jenkin, yes? Sarah told us stories about little Jenkin.
Little Jenkin was born when her drunk daddy ran away.
Little Jenkin's mom caught Dissolution and went crazy.
The crazy woman hits little Jenkin every day with brooms, belts, whatever she finds, while screaming nasty words...
You... You're lying...
Oh yes, her body leaks black slime too. The bed, the floor, everything sticky and wet... Yuck!
Saying that, George gives an exaggerated shiver and then giggles.
Then the crazy woman ran off alone. Little Jenkin waited by the door, waited and waited... Where did she go? Nobody knows.
No, it's not true...
Ptooey, ptooey, George had to say it! Then little Jenkin went to the welfare house, just another trash pile.
Admit it, you're just street trash washed into Londinium's sewers by the rain!
Even your sister, didn't she leave you with excuses because she was tired of you?
Shut up... SILENCE!
Jenkin trembles, her face deathly pale. She opens her mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, she just lowers her head in frustration.
Yeah, what right does she have? For rats in the gutter, love is an absolute luxury, a candy they can only dare to reach for in their dreams.
A pair of hands gently stroke Jenkin's head.
P-poor, broken child. I've known so many like you, unwanted, mistreated.
Let me g-grant you release, as eternal art.
Help us? After what you did to Aigis, to little Mac...
Can you truly claim prolonging their suffering is mercy?
I... I don't know...
Worry not, lost child. I'll shape you into breathtaking art, painless as a whisper.
Jenkin, don't fall for their twisted logic!
Rogers, you're just fooling yourself. Do you honestly believe being a wax sculpture erases everything?
Are they really willing participants? Can you swear you've never coerced or manipulated your "materials?!"
Stop fighting.
Kid, you're right. This world's rotten.
We're stuck anyway... Now do it. I miss being with Mom.
Jenkin, I know you're feeling down. But remember why we're here, to find your sister. She's counting on us.
Sorry, %player%. I'm tired.
Maybe this "sister" only exists in my head...
Otherwise why hasn't she come to see me?
Now that our little mouse has squeaked, what are we dawdling for?
24, Leigh, do pour the wax. Nice and slow...
...As you command.
Lady Pandia, your words are my sacred text.
The woman, holding a cup filled with wax, walks up to Jenkin.
Truthfully... the sewers aren't completely awful.
Besides garbage and rotting meals, sometimes I find fresh tinned fish. Once, a bouquet of tulips.
...?
Surprised? I know these tunnels better than you know your own reflection.
Splash...
In the next second, she flicks her wrist, and scalding wax pours down, blooming into grotesque scarlet petals on her pale arm.
Aaaaaah!
Oh... such exquisite patterns.
George hates loud pigs. Fill her mouth with wax to shut her up.
The floating candelabrum flies to Jenkin's face, its steaming heat turning her face bright red.
The candleholder is filled with scalding wax, on the verge of spilling over.
Liar... You said it wouldn't hurt...
Apologies, darling, it's been ages since I was human. I'd forgotten how messy it feels...
Perfect. You two, come hold her mouth open.
Then just pour in the wax, and the sewer rat will be quiet forever.
Stop... Stop it! She's innocent in all this...
Sis... It hurts so bad... it hurts...
No... no. I changed my mind! I don't wanna die! Stay back...!
...
...Wait a moment.
In the chaos, you suddenly hear a soft sigh.
I said... please wait a moment.
20. Maiden and Tears, before the fight
64 lines3:00, Rogers Wax Museum Special Exhibition Area
Wait?
Got an even cuter idea for training our little mouse? Don't be shy, share with the class, 24~
My lady... She's just an ordinary child from the slums. She poses no threat.
Can we just let her go...
Three times.
She called me swine 3 times, idiot 2 times, and @2 5 times.
She offended George! Jenkin must die! Must die!
George nestles into Rogers' arms and shrieks in accusation.
Rogers affectionately strokes George's fluffy golden head and lets out a sigh.
An ordinary child? Little Jenkin braved the wax museum for her sister.
Isn't that right, Miss Mason?
Miss Mason?!
Mason... Are you really my sis?
...
24 sighs softly and reaches out to embrace Jenkin.
The familiar scents hit her, awakening long-buried memories of countless days and nights.
It's really you, sis... So it wasn't a dream. So good...
Jenkin, you're not some unwanted rat. You still have me and Brown.
Don't worry, I won't let them take you.
24 gently touches Jenkin's cheek, then turns around and calmly looks at Rogers and his minions.
Lady Pandia, Master Rogers, we had a deal.
I'll bring them over for you. And in exchange, Jenkin goes free.
Why...
The whip mercilessly lashes down, leaving a fierce red mark on 24's face.
UGH!
Ugh, why all the questions? When you were trashing my museum, did YOU stop to think about what came next?
I'll only say this once: Move.
24 stands in front of Jenkin, her thin shoulder blades trembling like butterfly wings.
She manages a faint smile, but it looks more painful than crying.
As long as you let her go, I'll step aside...
Countless lashes fall like raindrops.
So annoying~ My arms are getting all sore. You planning on dying here today, 24?
Losing such an obedient little pet? I might actually cry, you know~
My lord, please have mercy... Let her go, and I will do anything...
I'll stay in the hall forever, just as you hoped. No more running around...
Soon, 24's body is covered in welts. But she doesn't move, just keeps muttering the same words.
L-Let her go... Please...
Let her go...
Crap... Can't move a muscle. Need to retrieve that Silver Key...
Mmkay, playtime's over. Somebody drag her out of here.
At your command!
No... I'm not leaving. You haven't said yes...
Enough talk. Move!
Despite 24's futile resistance, they dragged her away like a rag.
As she passes by, 24 suddenly looks up and lunges at you.
Key... %player%, the Silver Key, you can use it in battle, right?
What in the...?
That silver key worked on me! Link me, let's save her together!
No, you're not an Awakener. I can't possibly...
BANG!
Don't have funny ideas, or I'll blow your brains out right now!
This punch does not make 24 flinch. Miraculously, she breaks free from her restraints and lunges toward you.
She yanks the Silver Key from your chest and places it in your palm.
Catch her, don't let her get away!
You never know without trying! I've been experimented on; perhaps I can be like them...
You hold it, and I can fight, right?
...
Alright. I'll give it a shot.
You activate the Silver Key in your hand. Its cold glimmer shines on your chest, illuminating 24's face...
Pale, fragile, yet unwavering.
24, I command you!
21. Maiden and Tears, after the fight
52 linesJenkin! Are you alright?
24 rushes to Jenkin and removes her shackles.
She picks up Jenkin, just as she has done countless times since they were kids.
Don't worry about me, I can make my own way out.
The activated Silver Key infuses you with new power. You move your body, finally breaking free from the restraints.
Then you focus your spirit power, trying to awaken the sleeping Ramona.
Ramona, snap out of it!
Tabby cat, tabby cat... t-tabby...
You grab Ramona's shoulders and shake her hard. Ramona blinks, her eyes gradually clearing.
Hmph. Why am I even bothering with this nonsense...
Thank goodness you're finally awake!
A lot's happened while you were out. Actually, 24...
I can't move and barely stay conscious, but I can still hear everything you're saying.
Shall we reintroduce ourselves, Miss Mason?
...
Sorry, I wanted to get you all out of here...
First time I've seen an artificially created Awakener. Need to consult Miss Doll...
Oh dearie~ Is now really the time for a chat?
I didn't quite flatten you, but ohhh~ somebody's started leaking already~
You follow Pandia's gaze downward.
Crimson blood drips slowly from your arm onto the ground.
One drop, two drops, three drops...
Blood, so much blood...
Wake up... Quickly, wake up...
Damn, I lost focus during the fight and...
Wax Museum Rule 1: Do not touch the waxworks.
Wax Museum Rule 2: Do not lift their covers.
As for Rule 3 of the Wax Museum...
No blood shall spill upon these halls.
Bingo! Precisely!
No loud noises.
I don't remember anything.
Rule 3: No blood shall spill upon these halls.
These rules formed our covenant. Now, like so... all are broken.
Well then, rule-breaking guests...
Do savor this exquisite night.
Ding! Ding!
All the pendulums in the hall begin to resonate enthusiastically, merging various chimes into a sea of sound.
When taboos are shattered and rules trampled, the toll of judgment breaks the silence, emitting its sharpest threats.
Zing!!
A sudden, piercing buzz comes from beneath, accompanied by the cries of children, echoing around the wax museum.
BOOOMMM!!
It's as if a massive whirlpool opens up beneath your feet, eager to devour everything in its path.
Aaaaah...
22. Whispers of the Immortal, before the fight
45 linesUgh... that hurts...
What a stink...
Quiet. Look straight ahead.
A massive rift stretches before you, exuding thick black mist from within.
Around the rift, on a complex blood-drawn magic circle, you see a mountain of wax sculpture limbs.
They are densely packed, stretching to the ceiling. Countless mouths grin, forming a sea of mirth.
Hehehe...
What... is this...?
A flawless D-Rift. The museum's beating heart.
It warps reality itself. Through it, discards find rebirth, and our pact was forged.
As if responding to their master's return, the wax sculptures laugh even more merrily.
Rogers... Rogers...
La-la-la-la-la~
Pact...? Could it possibly be...?
Three Rules. The museum's devoted sentinels, punishing all who defile its beauty.
Countless fragmented wax heads emit unintelligible murmurs, then suddenly turn in unison to glare at you with wide eyes.
Punish, punish... Hehe...
Oh no, we've been spotted. Move out...
White paraffin spreads rapidly, instantly clinging to the rule-breaking transgressor.
Back off! Ugh...
It reaches your chest and is about to crawl into your mouth and eyes。。。
Can't... get air...
...
...
Ding!
Suddenly, the chime of the Silver Key echoes in your ears.
Waaa...
Rogers... Hurt... Hurt...
The silver glimmer surges abruptly, revealing a new spell already covering the blood array.
It illuminates the darkness behind the Rift, revealing William and his bulky D-Rift Observer.
William...! Did you write this spell? It's so beautiful...
William glances up briefly, confirms you are safe, and then continues staring at the dial in front of him.
You've arrived just in time. I almost thought you wouldn't make it this far.
Squeak!
Brown wriggles his hefty body and emerges from the top of William's head.
Brown! Thought I lost you...!
Rift closure has progressed to 70%. Leaving now is extremely dangerous. I must stay here to stabilize the fluctuations of the Dissolution.
%player%, please buy me a little more time.
Roger!
Weren't you knocked out...?
Sorry, Mr. Rogers. Sometimes, "deception" is an essential skill for Investigators.
Thanks to that woman, I was able to find this place.
Hmph~ Such a sneaky little Investigator.
No worries, my dear curator~ My babies aren't that easy to take down.
Everyone's here. Let's wipe them all out in one go!
23. Whispers of the Immortal, after the fight
45 linesUgh! Am I... back?
The moment you open your eyes, the silver runes above the rift seem to come alive, rapidly floating and spinning...
They then simultaneously release a dazzling silver light, illuminating almost every corner of the rift.
!!
William lets out a sigh of relief and gives you an approving nod.
Well done, %player%. The rift has been successfully closed.
However, we can't let our guard down. The moment before the rift closes is often the most dangerous...
Boom!!
Sensing its impending demise, the rift trembles in despair, spewing forth jet-black ooze.
The art symbolizing eternity slowly melts, revealing its true face.
The lady, who once smiled gently, now reveals a sinister face as she wails for her lost child.
The charming gentleman twitches constantly, but his hollow eye sockets can no longer shed a single tear.
The innocent child stares at their missing arm, letting out a confused scream.
Aaah, my hand...
I remember, I remember everything...
No, no... my precious sculptures...
When the beauty of art sheds its delicate veil, harsh reality arrives as expected.
The wax sculptures float in midair, weeping. They all turn their heads to glare at the instigator of it all.
D-don't look at us! Go fight those Mythag brats!
Keep looking and George will dig out your eyes...
George's hair and clothes suddenly float up lightly before he can finish.
Huh... Me too... Why...?
George breaks free from Rogers' embrace and flies toward the center of the rift, accompanied by the floating wax sculptures.
In the pitch-black night, they drift like glowing jellyfish into the deep tunnel.
Master, help me... Please help me, AAAHHHH!!
George! Come back...
Rogers grabs George, but they are entwined and surrounded by more and more limbs.
Master, you can save George... right?
...
This is what you've been running from, Rogers.
I told you before, you can't pretend they never existed.
I spent over tw-twenty years... and th-that's it?
Heh... Hahahah... This isn't real, right? None of this is real...
Of course they are real... just too pale.
Music, painting, statues... All beauty and art pale in the face of true suffering.
Under the gaze of @2, everything is fragile.
Rogers kneels down, holding the melting George.
This nightmare will end. I'll f-fix you... I swear...
*Sobs*... It hurts... So bad...
The wax greedily clings to Rogers' arm, piercing the skin and spreading deeper.
Rogers feels no pain. He just stares sadly at George, or, more precisely, at George's slate-green eyes.
For more than 70 sweltering summers, he gazed at those eyes in the dark.
Those slate-green eyes, their pale irises catching the candlelight, shimmering like disturbed water, swirling like an endless maze.
In them, he glimpsed both genesis and ruin.
I won't let you leave, Mr. Wax...
24. Behind the Veil, before the fight
37 linesCome here, child, come quickly...
Mr. Wax...?
In the long, solitary beam of light, the boy walks alone.
He walks through the passage, following the call, approaching Mr. Wax step by step.
The man is immersed in a crimson pool of wax, tears streaming down the grooves on his face.
Mr. Wax, w-what are you doing?!
This failing vessel has lasted longer than expected...
To perish in wax, what sublime poetry.
No, don't leave me alone...
My child... Before you leave, I have a gift for you.
...
Take my eyes to it. Let them speak for me and watch over you.
You'll surpass me. Remember this...
No agony can touch you now, nor ever defeat you.
They will meld into the art you create, achieving eternal beauty.
Rogers stares into George's familiar eyes.
Mr. Wax... I-I don't understand.
If no suffering can harm me, then why... do I feel like crying now?
Answer me... Answer me!
<Change>Ahhhhh... Rogers, Rogers...
George opens his mouth, but only black goo comes out. It will never be able to answer that question.
Master Rogers, your hand and those... things... they're merging!
No response from Rogers. And no more will ever come from him.
Splash!!
The whip coils around Rogers' arm, tearing it off. Blood gushes out, staining Rogers' coat red.
AHHH!!
My hand, my hand...
George loses his grip. The wailing wax sculptures cling to him, all sliding towards the chasm.
<Change>No, don't...
His right hand, creator of countless wax sculptures, plunges with him into the endless abyss.
AAAAHHHHH!!
Pandia, what are you doing... my hand...
I'll escort Master Rogers to safety. Leigh, entertain our guests!
...Huh?
25. Behind the Veil, after the fight
32 lines<Change>Waaah... AAAAAHHHH!
The mass of gathered wax sculptures collapses.
George's head rolls to the ground, his large eyes still glaring at you.
<Change>I am... perfect...
The wax sculpture gradually dissolves, like gray dye blending into a black ocean of Dissolution, leaving no trace behind.
So it ends... at last.
Boom!!
A black torrent surges forth, swallowing everything in its path.
The wax museum is dissolving completely. We must evacuate now!
I see the passage William mentioned! Everyone, stick together and don't wander off!
Oh... Has everyone forgotten about me? I'm here under orders to stop all of you.
Out of the way!
Leigh smiles at Jenkin and 24, whose hands remain clasped together.
Do you know why I am so familiar with the sewers, little mouse?
...Huh?
That day... police officers entered the sewer. All armed with guns.
My brother and I supported each other, running, and running...
My brother was shot. I counted, one by one. 14, 15, 16... Yes, he was shot a total of 16 times.
He's riddled with holes, bleeding profusely. His blood smelled delicious. It was so, so enticing... But I managed to restrain myself.
I didn't drink a single drop of his blood.
What's she babbling about...
It's nothing... I just suddenly changed my mind. You all go ahead.
You're just letting us go? Are you really that nice...?
Leigh doesn't answer, but simply points ahead.
The passage is over there. I suggest you move quickly, unless you want to die here.
And what about you...?
Leigh looks at you with a hint of surprise, as if confused by your question.
She then looks up at the dripping black goo above her and gives a blank smile.
Goodbye, {Male=Mr.,Female=Miss} Keeper.
As you step out of the basement, you glance back at Leigh.
Black D-Slime flows on the ground and ceiling. Leigh stands in the center of the ruins, as thin as a withered weed.
You can't make out her expression, but you can sense her gaze. She has been watching you all along.
26. Silent Collapse, before the fight
35 lines4:15, Rogers Wax Museum
You stagger through the ruins, your gasps for breath filling the air.
Finally, you see the heavy gate ahead. Just a gentle push and...
Ugh, locked.
Ahead lies a black ocean, with danger closing in and no retreat possible.
This should be the gate William mentioned. The key should be in the master office.
We can't go back there.
This place is swimming in D-Slime... Even an Awakener wouldn't last long exposed to this.
But we don't have a choice.
We can give it a try.
%player%, I need you to remain calm.
The path ahead is flooded with D-Slime. Even Awakeners will be affected by prolonged exposure.
We can't go back the way we came. We'll need to find another exit.
You follow Jenkin's gaze and look up. The small vent is right above you.
There might be access to the master office, and it should be D-Slime free...
No, this passage is too narrow. We can't get in.
Squeak!
No, that's too dangerous. We can't be sure if the key is still there, or that this ventilation shaft...
Tch. You talk too much, Miss Ramona. Thought you were more direct.
I'll get this straight: First, there is no other way now, right? Better than waiting to die.
Second, I'll go with Brown. I'm in charge, it fetches the key.
Squeak! Squeak, squeak!
Third...
Caused you lots of trouble. Sis even got hurt for me.
So...
Let me help. Can't stand being protected all the time.
She then leaps into the vent, disappearing instantly, just as she always did while darting through the White Chapel District.
Jenkin...! She never listens to me...
Don't underestimate Jenkin. She's more agile than any of us; she'll make it.
...I believe in her.
27. Silent Collapse, after the fight
32 lines4:40, Rogers Wax Museum
The wait feels endless until a sound of labored movement comes from above.
The sound gradually becomes clearer and louder...
After a long while, a thin, small arm reaches out from inside.
Got it...
Jenkin, get out now! This place is going down...
Sorry. Might... not join you.
Squeak...
Jenkin, grab my hand, quick!
Stop. Look at her wound. She's absorbed too much D-Slime...
Soon, she'll dissolve completely along with this cursed wax museum.
Dang it... Got D-Slime on me.
Jenkin trembles as she extends her hand, revealing the key.
Come here, Sis.
Don't move, Jenkin! You're injured, I'll get you out of here...
24 trembles as she opens her hand, and a key falls into her palm, still warm.
T-the key's clean! Did my best...
What a shame. I'm only thirteen and haven't lived enough yet...
Jenkin sniffs again and gives you a bright smile.
Sis, we haven't even had a chance to talk some more, and now we have to say bye-bye again...
Do you remember what you said to me?
You said... I was never alone. You said I still had you. Had everyone.
From that moment, I knew...
I'd do anything for you.
Jenkin...
The pitch-black slime surges from behind the girl, freezing her radiant smile in its final moment.
The girl who loves funny faces, talks to small animals, and always argues with Miss Sarah...
...vanishes silently, along with this wax museum.
28. Epilogue, before the fight
96 linesOne month later Mythag, Restricted Area A-001
Heard you went to the wax museum with the Committee today. Any findings?
You shake your head.
Completely Dissoluted, without even a Silver Core fragment.
Few people produce Silver Cores after death. I thought you would have understood that by now.
But Jenkin's different...
Help me, I'll return your wallet and ID, keep it secret. Don't help... hehe!
...The Baltic Sea's Primadonna! Right?
Don't forget me, okay?
No Silver Core means she's truly, completely gone... Could someone have deliberately taken it?
Or is there some clue I'm missing...
Doll said you've been skipping class a lot recently. Turns out you're here chatting with a teacher?
Ms. Czort!
Don't worry, I'm not here to check your attendance. William's back. Maybe you'd like to talk to him?
I heard he's tracked down Rogers and handed him over to the Committee.
!!
Understood... I'll go talk to him.
Goodbye, Mr. Alistair, Ms. Czort.
The footsteps gradually fade away, followed by the heavy hum of the elevator operating.
It's been a month, and {Male=he,Female=she} still can't accept that Jenkin is gone.
{Male=He is blaming himself.,Female=She is blaming herself.} Everyone goes through this. Give {Male=him,Female=her} some time.
Long time no see, Alistair. How have you been holding up?
Talking about "feelings" with an old boy like me seems unnecessary.
Judging from %player%'s reaction, are you now the dean of Mythag?
Acting Dean. And... your intelligence network needs updating.
Apologies. Not many dare discuss Mythag with me these days. Still, congratulations on your promotion, you've earned it.
Heh... This is more burden than honor.
People are starting to forget those who died from Dissolution.
Existential Erasure.
I remember it was... A.F. 290 or 291. Herbert proposed his hypothesis...
The D-phenomenon's end is the erasure of one's very existence.
He was the academy's brightest star. Who could predict he'd murder his mentor so brutally?
Was it truly unpredictable? I warned them a long time ago.
Only poison grows in darkness.
Existential erasure was rare before. Now the signs multiply...
I've alerted the Committee to watch for symptoms. Yet...
Nearly three centuries since A.F. 15's first Dissolution case.
We still understand almost nothing.
I suspect... this new Keeper might be our key to uncovering the truth.
That {Male=he,Female=she} remembers the Dissolution victims at all marks {Male=him,Female=her} as extraordinary.
{Male=He,Female=She} will surpass us all.
No. 44 Southwark Street, Ruins of the Wax Museum
What a ruin. Within three days, this place will turn into a pool of black mud and then completely vanish.
Where is Rogers?
He and Pandia are now being hunted by the Committee hounds. Last time we met, it was in a sanatorium in Cité.
They've been running wild for too long. They need this lesson.
Before leaving, Pandia gave me something, saying it was a token of apology for you.
What is this... a personnel file?
Open it and see. Surprises await inside.
%player%...?
Date of birth unknown... Admitted by Mythag last year. Never trained, yet able to link multiple Awakeners in battle...
Interesting. Who would have thought Mythag had this up their sleeve.
Looks like the "Lantern Incident" didn't teach them a harsh enough lesson back then.
It's time to visit the academy and pay my respects at the grave of my dearest mentor.
Outskirts of Londinium Shoreditch Cemetery
Miss 24.
{Male=Mr.,Female=Miss} %player%! What brings you here...?
To pay my respects to Jenkin.
You crouch down and gently brush away the debris on the small tombstone. It is blank; you have not yet decided to engrave any words on it.
As if... once the words are inscribed, Jenkin's departure will become a reality.
Miss 24, why didn't you reveal your true identity back at the wax museum?
...
Back then, I was so confused and scared... If Jenkin saw me like this, she would be heartbroken.
Jenkin's tougher than she looks, she can handle the truth.
Yes... she has always been the bravest and strongest girl I've ever seen.
I heard about the academy. No trace of Jenkin's Silver Core, right?
William hasn't found anything yet. But don't worry, Miss 24.
I'll personally interrogate Rogers once we get him.
24 shakes her head.
I know you won't give up. I'm just worried... my memories of Jenkin are starting to fade.
I fear that one day I'll walk right past her.
I'll tell you when you've forgotten her.
That how you met, how you lived together, how she rescued you, and how she became our legendary hero...
You words gradually faded, eventually dispersing in the gentle breeze.
Squeak... Squeak...
A faint sound suddenly reaches your ears with a rhythmic cadence.
A mouse... Brown?!
!!
It sounds... near.
You quickly turn around, and there it is, a plump little mouse in the grass behind the tombstone.
Snore... Snore...
The size and color... It IS Brown!
You and 24 exclaim in unison.
The mouse, missing since the wax museum incident, is not woken by your presence.
As if it just survived a thrilling adventure and now lies exhausted at the end of the journey.
Huff... Whew... Zzz...
It seems to be holding something...
...
It's a Silver Core. Jenkin's Silver Core.
A Silver Core resting between its paws. An unrefined core, emitting a murky glow.
From the faint glow, you seem to hear an incredibly joyful and lively heartbeat.
Long time no see, Jenkin.
The sky finally clears. The sun hangs high, casting golden light with just the right amount of warmth.
Wind carries the fresh scent of earth. You and 24 bathe in the warm sunlight and exchange a smile.
Let's go, Miss 24.
The clouds have cleared, and your adventure has just begun.