Part 6: Elysium Is Coming

Her luggage is half-packed and already overstuffed. She's rushing, haphazardly throwing things in as she goes, unwilling to pause for even a moment.
Paulina: That smug, know-it-all, manipulative bastard. How is it that I still need to learn not to trust anything that comes out of that-that stupid lying jerk's mouth?
Paulina: "No mail today, sis," "Nah, no visitors yet, Polly," "Haven't heard a word" ... Just another pack of lies, and I bought 'em.
On the desk lies a crumpled stack of invitations from the St. Pavlov Foundation. Only one was ever opened.
J: Hey, Polly, open the door! What are you even doing in there?
Paulina: Leave me the hell alone, Joe! Who the hell do you think you are to decide my choice, my future, my fate?
Paulina: Don't talk to me. Don't ever talk to me again! I'm leaving, today!
A fierce response booms through the door.
J: Whatever—Why are you even this obsessed with this "mission" of theirs?! They're fooling you, sis, don't you see it?!
J: Only two kinds of people that buy the "Peace Be with Us" kind of bullst they're selling.
J: The first kind are those like you, Polly. Stupid kids that don't know nothing 'bout anything except what they've read in books.
J: And the others are the ones fleecing you. Taking all you got, and spitting you out, all so they can have more money, more control.
He pours out his anger, inadvertently realizing the weight of his own words.
J: Pol- ... I'm sorry, alright. I flew off the handle. I made a mistake.
J: But these guys, Paulina. You think they care about you? About anyone? You're just another penny in their pocket, a coal for their furnace. They'll burn you up and replace you, easy as that.
J: You think you're going out there, do something big, because you don't even know what life is yet.
J: You just read about it in your books, telling you some st about "A Foundation member paying the ultimate sacrifice for others," and think that makes them some kind of hero. You don't know what that kind of sacrifice means, sis.
J: Do they say how those "brave" Foundation goons really felt facing death? They aren't going to tell you they were afraid, that they hated everyone who put them there, that they probably s**t themselves before they bit it, just wishing they could go home. They don't put that in books, do they?
J: You read what they want you to think. It ain't the truth, Polly.
J: Maybe I'm not smart like you, sis. I can't read the things you read, can't learn like you. But I learned the hard way.
Paulina: Enough, J. I really don't give a crap about what you've learned "on the streets." I don't want to hear it.
Paulina: I'd rather take my chances and die out there than stay here and never live at all.
J kicks the door hard, smashing a hole straight through it.
He steps in through the now-open doorway.
Matilda: I feel sorry to be the, how do you say it, "bearer of bad news"?
Matilda: But at least now they are willing to cooperate, no?
Matilda: Only ...
She taps the ground with the tip of her shoe.
There is an unwilling feeling of shame rather than pride at her work in this moment.
Matilda: Why my team members haven't awakened yet? We really must report our information on the Manus Vindictae back to the Foundation.
She paces forward and back.
Matilda: After Arcana's death, the remnants of the Manus Vindictae all scattered into the wind, nowhere to be found.
Matilda: They even abandoned all their stashes and resources just to hide in this era. And it seems they succeeded. There has been no trace of them so far.
Matilda: Well, not yet. But I think perhaps with this news, Special Investigator Matilda Bouanich will be the one to at last find the key.
Matilda: I am very certain that my exemplary intelligence gathering will be rewarded by our leaders. Oh, perhaps, they might even place Ms. Sonetto on my team.
A man bumps into her and then tumbles hard to the ground.
Matilda: Hump. Mind yourself, please. I have had quite enough of these bumping accidents today.
She speaks, but he is oblivious to her words as he rises clumsily to his feet.
His face is a wild contortion of joy and madness, lacking any awareness.
Bell-Ringer: The enlightenment! Soon comes the Sufferer's enlightenment!
Matilda: ?!
There is a familiar pattern on his neck.
She freezes in place, taking in the shock.
Matilda: A Manus's sign? But certainly, they didn't transform into those monsters.
Before she can take a step to follow, her surroundings begin to stir.
They come one by one; then more emerging, all pouring in one direction as if drawn in by a funnel.
All: Enlightenment. It's the enlightenment!
The crowd stampedes across the grounds.
The moment passes, and her immediate surroundings empty, leaving behind only herself and a few indifferent vendors.
Matilda: What is happening?
Matilda: I need to follow that man!
She attempts to follow him, pushing through against the crowd, but the heavy press of bodies is like a wall.
Matilda: Please! Pardon me! Ouphf. They're all so sweaty.
Matilda: Hmm?
She catches sight of a nimble shadow moving through the crowd.
Cateye Wisen: Yeah! Yeah! Chant louder, you stupid jerks. The higher you lift those arms, the easier it is to reach into those pockets.
She spies him as he darts under legs and through the throng—a shortcut of sorts.
Matilda: A clever way to get around, if not so very decent. But then, I suppose decency is far from the most important thing now.
She crouches down and follows his lead.
No one takes notice of her. All eyes are drawn to an older-looking man as he begins to speak.
???: Our world drowns ever deeper into depravity.
???: The multitudes, trapped in their cages of materialism and logic, refuse to acknowledge the coming day of Judgment and salvation. Instead, they sell their souls to violence, gangs, and vile music.
???: Though they may laugh or cry, they know nothing of the truth, and speak only lies. Held hostage to their worldly possessions, but forgetting the value of their souls.
???: But the Sufferer didn't abandon us. THEY know where the souls are hidden. THEY will save our lost children, save us.
???: THEY suffered burning pain, even faced death for us.
He allows a line of tears to etch down his face.
Yet, his words are spoken firm, and he shows no hint of emotion. Indeed, his face is almost mask-like in its stillness.
???: And now, together we are THEIR children. Only we possess the truth of salvation. Police, governments, communities, and nations are only the deceitful constructs of history; our salvation lies solely in the return of the Sufferer.
???: But now, we must stand shoulder to shoulder, as we anticipate our coming celebration of the Sufferer. We await, we rejoice!
Believers: We await, we rejoice.
???: The Sufferer has heard us, know this, children. Now take heart, for we have another lost lamb who has cast aside the world to join us.
From the silent crowd, a man hobbles forward and kneels.
???: ...
???: Legers, the Sufferer has bestowed THEIR blessings onto your broken body, and welcomes you to be THEIR child. Would you present THEM your loyalty with the shedding of blood?
Matilda: Blood?!
Legers: I would, and I pray.
He holds up the dagger, drawing a long sharp cut across his palm, and lets the blood stream down.
Legers: Urgh!
The blood stains the ground below, forming a mysterious symbol.
???: Rejoice! For the passage to Elysium has been promised to you.
???: All, it is time! Follow the Bell-Ringer, the gate to Elysium shall soon be opened!
He raises his arms, and the crowd responds with fervent cheers.
Matilda: ?!
As he lifts his robe, the answer becomes unmistakable.
Matilda: That's the sign of the Manus Vindictae!
Matilda: I must return to tell the Foundation. I need to get out now! Move, move away! Crap! It's getting crowded!
The uproar stirs the crowd into an agitated frenzy.
Bell-Ringer: No, it can't be! Where is the key to the gate? Apostle Matheus, p-please wait a moment.
Apostle Matheus: ...!
From the platform, the speaker catches sight of the darting figures.
Apostle Matheus: Be vigilant, all! There are deceivers among us!
Matilda: Crap!
She quickens her pace, rushing without caution through the crowd.
"Thud!"—Two heads collide.
Cateye Wisen: Ouch!
Bell-Ringer: Behold, the deceivers among us!
Where the finger points, the crowd instinctively makes way, leaving the two surrounded in an empty circle.
As Matilda returns to her senses, she realizes the dire nature of their predicament.
Matilda: Not good.

Cateye Wisen: Dang it! Dang it! Dang it! Where did you come from?! Didn't anyone tell you whose turf this is?! Ahh, we're in so much trouble.
The boy's pockets are stuffed full, jingling as he moves and making him run in an awkward, clunky manner.
Matilda: panting What?! I can go wherever I please. Y-you rude little boy! I-I should have let them catch you.
An engine growls behind them, gaining ground on them fast.
Matilda: Where did they get this vehicle?! panting
Their capture now appears inevitable.
Becket: Son of a gun, kid. What did I tell you about making a mess! These freaks are mad!
The man on the motorcycle grabs the boy, pinning him to the back seat in a fluid motion.
Becket: Sit back, rubber's hitting the road!
Matilda: ?!
Cateye Wisen: Hahahaha, so long, suckers!
Matilda: Damn! Wait! Are you really just leaving me here?!
Her legs are giving out from exertion, huffing with labored breaths.
???: What brings you out here, short stuff? Starting to wonder why we keep running into each other.
Another engine roars, and then the throttle eases as it pulls up alongside her.
Matilda: It's you?! You should have listened to me and waited in the tent! You, you oaf!
J: You've got a funny way of saying thanks, French Fry. If I listened to you back there, you'd have been stuck here and hung out to dry.
Matilda: I got straight As in SPDM's P.E. tests! I-I do not need your help!
Matilda: I can take care of these kooky cultists all by myself.
J: As you wish, my lady!
He is more than happy to accommodate her, putting a sizeable distance between them before slowing again.
Believer: Release the Glawackus!
The magical critters snarl and bare their teeth from the cage, before bursting out.
Glawackus Mutant: roar
Matilda: ?!
Matilda: Glawackus?! No, they don't have such an acute sense of smell. It must be a kind of mutant they tamed!
J: Knight in shining chrome; at your service. Just say the word.
Matilda: Please keep your distance, sir. It is me they are after! You must keep yourself safe!
Matilda: I am an investigator of the St. Pavlov Foundation, and it is my duty to protect civilians!
J: ...
Her words feel strikingly familiar.
And also familiar hurried steps.
Matilda: Fuego Bu—
Matilda: Huh?!
Her incantation is interrupted as she is lifted unwillingly onto the back of J's motorcycle.
J: Get on, Frenchie. Really don't wanna get involved, but you were starting to look like a lost puppy, so I'll forgive you.
J: You know, Short Fry, if you're trying to protect someone, you should learn when to accept their help.
J: No one gets anywhere in this world alone. Not even at your big-shot Foundation.
The wind howls past as they pick up speed. Matilda sticks her head up to speak.
Matilda: What did you say? I cannot hear you! The wind is too loud!
J: I said, take the help!
Matilda: WHAAAAT?
J: ...
J: I said take ** ...
A number of profanities tingle on his tongue, but for the moment, he swallows them back.
J: Hold on to your socks, water ahead!!