Market Guard I: We thought she was a grandma, you know, like one of those little old ladies who uses a walker.
Market Guard I: Boy was I wrong. She ran faster than a jackrabbit. So there she went, the goods still in her arms.
Market Guard II: Shut up, Roth. And quit trying to get rich. I gotta take a leak.
He waves his hand and darts into the small grove.
Some time passes, and the other guard left behind grows wary.
Market Guard I: Hey Cuco, you trying to piss up a lake or something?! Hurry up!
No one answers.
He cautiously peers forward, catching sight of someone leaning over a tree stump.
???: Shoot! Don't come over here! My zipper's stuck! Gimme a sec!
Despite the frantic tone of the pleading voice, the guard seems not to have detected anything.
Market Guard I: Hahahaha, Cuco, you need scissors or something?
Cateye Wisen: Mr. Pioneer, now!
Behind the guard, another figure emerges in response.
"Crack—"
The wooden club comes crashing down on the guard's head, before splitting into two pieces.
The would-be victim appears totally unharmed.
Market Guard I: W-What the hell?!
Pioneer: ... I told you it wouldn't work. It isn't "handy" at all.
He discards the wooden club, removes an arm, and clenches the hand into a fist.
Market Guard I: Hey! Intruders over here! Come quick, you idiots!
From afar footfalls rush toward them.
Pioneer: I have a feeling this one will be a hard nut to crack.
COMBAT
Matilda: I clearly saw Mr. Pioneer and Wisen draw the guards away. Where did they go?
J: Don't worry about them. They're probably just hiding somewhere. We've already taken down most of the guards. They'll realize soon.
The two late reinforcements scan the area.
Cateye Wisen: pants I'm here, boss! Help, Mr. Pioneer has ...!
The boy's desperate cry echoes from the lakeside.
Matilda: Is that Mr. Pioneer's arm?!
J kneels, pounding the ground in frustration.
J: Pioneer! I'm sorry, man. I should've come earlier.
J appears genuinely heartbroken at the thought he has arrived too late, fighting back messy tears.
A stiff hand is laid gently on his trembling shoulder.
The soothing words arrive just in time.
Pioneer: Enough faffing around! Go get my arm! And don't make me repeat myself!
J: Hey! Hey! Hey! Don't kick my butt!
"Thud—"
J: pants Damn! What's wrong with you, man?! I've never swum in my entire life! You almost killed me!
Pioneer: Well, when new boys join us in the future, I'll tell them, "You know that famous J? He was drowned in a kiddie pool."
Pioneer: "May the rubber duck be with him."
Matilda: Shh! Enough, you fools!
She separates the pair, who have been standing side by side.
Matilda: Move, get out of the way! According to Ms. Maich, the door is right where you're standing.
She crouches down to examine the barren soil, stretching out her hand to measure its length.
The other three mimic her actions.
Yet apart from the solid earth, there is nothing in sight.
Pioneer: But there's nothing here, Ms. Bouanich. No keyhole, no door frame. Is it buried underground? Perhaps we need to dig it up.
Matilda: No. Since the very beginning, there's never been a specific door that leads to their lair. In other words, any door could take us there.
Matilda: The key is a shortcut. It will take us directly to them.
Maich the Peddler: I saw them go into the woods with dozens of believers. They went inside a tent.
Maich the Peddler: I was worried about my friend, so I searched for any secret tunnels or cellars that they might've used. I thought I could follow the traces left by their arcane skills.
She shakes her head.
Maich the Peddler: But I found nothing.
Maich the Peddler: At the same time, I heard that a door had been salvaged from the sunken Lady Elgin. The archaeologists found that the door didn't lead anywhere—it was useless.
Maich the Peddler: Back on the ship, it was installed in front of a wall. I've read about these "meaningless" doors before in my brief study of archaeology.
Maich the Peddler: When installed inside tombs, they serve as a decoration and a distraction against tomb raiders.
Maich the Peddler: So, it dawned on me that perhaps it is not the "door" that matters.
Matilda: It is the key that matters.
Matilda: Doors are just a medium through which spaces are connected. It is the key that opens the way.
Matilda: En conclusion, this key can make any door a shortcut to their lair.
Matilda: Even without a door, there is still a path we can take. There is always a direct route that connects two points on the map of Gnosis.
One line, two lines—their fingers sketch the outline of the door roughly on the ground.
Matilda: We can take that path by touching the key and reciting the incantation.
Matilda: All we need to do is draw an entrance.
J: So ...
Pioneer: ...!
Matilda: Hmph! I will send the coordinates to the Foundation. When the reinforcements arrive, they can come with us.
Matilda: Before we enter, you must know. I only mastered the art of opening the door. The art of closing the door, however ... Well, only the Manus know how to do that.
Matilda: Are you all aware of the risk? We may get locked in there and never come back.
J: Alright, alright, enough talk. We've come this far. Nothing's gonna scare me off.
Matilda: Fine. Over here, gentlemen!
As the crowd gathers, one person is pulled away.
Cateye Wisen: Boss, boss! What're you doing?! I can help, too! Just ask Mr. Pioneer!
J: You're smarter than most kids I know, Wisen. That's why I got an even more important job for you—to stay here.
The child's head nearly collapses in response. Feeling abandoned, he looks away in unwilling defeat.
J: We'll need you soon. But not now.
Cateye Wisen: Alright.
They stand before the door lying at their feet, checking one another for any signs of hesitation.
J: See you later, kid.
Then all at once, they leap into the bottomless door.
All: Whoa!
Their center of gravity reverses, the sky hangs upside down, and a wave of intense dizziness passes through them from head to gut.
There is a clamor of voices, rhythmic tap dancing ...
Strange murmurs and whispers fill their ears, while others wail and sob.
Matilda: Ah, crap! Wh-what's going on?! This was not part of the plan.
J: Guys ...
Pioneer: Damn it. Hey, where are we?! Please! Put my head back on. I can't see a thing!
They lift his head, set it back on his neck, and re-adjust it.
Pioneer: Now, calm down, fellas. It can't possibly be that ... bad ...
Night and day reverse.
An endless tide of bodies surges, engulfing them.
In the distance, figures clad in black robes gather.
The scene is overwhelming. Words catch in their throats.
Matilda: If all these people are Manus followers, the Foundation's reinforcements will be far from sufficient!
Pioneer: Ah. It appears we're already in the middle of their lair, Ms. Bouanich.
Behind them, a familiar yet strange voice speaks out.
???: chuckles Welcome, distinguished guests.