The maid stands behind the front desk in the motel lobby. She's checking in her new guests.
Tuesday: That'll be 25 dollars altogether. Will that be on card or cash?
Vertin: Cash, please.
The maid holds up the passport, comparing the information on it.
Lilya: Hey, do you know if there's an armament factory in the town nearby?
Tuesday: An armament factory?
She studies Lilya's outfit and smiles as she responds.
Tuesday: Yes, there is one. Would you like a map?
She opens a drawer, pulls out a map, and hands it to her.
Tuesday: If you plan on visiting, make sure to return early. It can be a difficult walk in the dark.
Lilya quickly finds the town labeled "Chisos" on the map.
Lilya: Doesn't seem far from here.
Tuesday: It's about an hour's walk. I'd recommend leaving tomorrow morning.
Tuesday: It's getting late. It's best not to be outside at night.
Lilya: Thanks, but I'm going right now.
She moves with swift purpose to the front door.
Lilya: Nothing can go wrong as long as I have the Red 38 by my side.
Vertin: Call me if anything happens.
Lilya: Like what? I can handle myself.
A rush of wind enters as Lilya opens the door and makes her way out of the motel.
Vertin: ...
Vertin: Don't worry. She'll check in later.
Tuesday: Here's your passport.
Vertin: Have you been working here since the opening of this place?
Tuesday: Yes.
Vertin: How's business?
The maid laughs softly.
Tuesday: Not too great. It's the off-season now.
Tuesday: You don't seem too good at small talk. Is there anything you'd like to ask?
Vertin: ...
Vertin: I do have one question.
Vertin: Have you seen a sheep-headed arcanist around?
She shows the information provided by the Foundation.
Tuesday: Ah, that's not a face you'd easily forget.
Tuesday: And why are you looking for this arcanist?
The maid blinks in surprise, then laughs.
Tuesday: Well, that makes this request simply too adorable to turn down.
Tuesday: I can help you ask around if you—
Suddenly, the ceiling starts to tremble.
A surge of arcane energy comes from above.
Vertin: What's ...
Tuesday: Sounds like something's gone wrong upstairs. Sorry about that.
Tuesday: Let's head up. Your room's on the second floor, too. Then we can take a look at what's happened.
Vertin: Sounds good.
Tuesday: Just so you know, the guests upstairs are a little ...
The maid hesitates.
Tuesday: Well, you can stay behind me if you like.
Argus: How about it?
A voice echoes from down the hall.
Argus: It's just a simple room swap. I'm sure it won't be no trouble at all for a generous lady such as yourself.
Tuesday: That's the guest staying in room 210. She arrived here the night before yesterday.
Tuesday: She was injured when she came in. Seems it didn't take her long to recover.
Tuesday: But I don't quite understand why she insists on swapping rooms with the other guests. If she does the same to you, please call the front desk. I'll do my best to help.
Vertin: Why don't you offer her your help? She needs it more than I do.
Tuesday: Oh, things don't work like that here, Miss.
Tuesday: Everyone has their own secrets. With the variety of guests we get, it's best to keep your mouth shut, or else somebody will shut it for you.
Tuesday: Although there are fewer bounty hunters around these days, my advice is to stay quiet if you don't want any trouble.
Tuesday: Especially if you're dealing with an armed mercenary. You know how things like that play out down here in Texas, don't you?
Vertin: Understood.
The voice down the hall continues.
Argus: Or do you have something else in mind?
Female Guest: Is your room bigger and better than this one?
A more lively voice chimes in.
Tuesday: That's the guest of room 218 speaking. She too is a young lady like you.
Vertin: You remember all the guests and their room numbers?
Tuesday: You'd remember her too if she'd been staying in your motel for a month. Ms. Kimberly's been here for just over that.
Stefen: I ...
Tuesday: Hm?
The maid quickly moves toward the source of the voice.
The man before her looks haggard, his back slightly hunched, his eyes yellowed and cloudy.
Stefen: Mirror ... The mirror ...
Tuesday: Mr. Stefen, are you coming out for some fresh air?
Everyone in the hallway turns to look at the maid.
Argus: Maid! You're just in time.
Argus: I'd like to swap rooms with this Kimberly lady.
Tuesday: If Ms. Kimberly and yourself have come to an agreement, then I see no reason why you can't do so.
Stefen: Ah.
The man makes a dry, rasping sound, his vocal cords trembling unnaturally. It's like he's speaking for the first time in his life.
Stefen: Timekeeper?
Vertin: Have we met?
This response seems to trigger something. His expression twists.
Stefen: Vertin?
Vertin: That's me. Do I know you, sir?
Stefen: I saw you—in the newspaper.
Stefen: Arh, the newspaper, that vacuum bomb—did you see the explosion? You must have, because you made it happen! You dropped the bomb! You murderers!
Stefen: But have any of you been brought to justice? No, not a single one! Instead, you were congratulated and given medals.
Stefen: Revolting! Disgusting! Why were you rewarded for murder?!
He blabbers on, working himself into a frenzy.
Stefen: Meanwhile, I'm stuck in this hotel. Lord, is this what my life has come to?
Vertin: But we've never met before. I don't even know your name, sir.
Stefen: Of course you don't know me. But I'll get the truth out. I'll expose your crimes to the public!
The man's deranged rant continues, his knuckles turning white as he clenches his fists.
Stefen: That rotting woman in the tub, that sheep-headed monster, and that one inside the mirror.
Vertin: Sheep-headed, you say?
Vertin: Wait! Sir—
Argus: Shh. Don't startle him. He's totally crazy.
Stefen: I should've known it was all fake!
Stefen: If they're giving out medals for killing people ...
Stefen: Ah, then I should have one, too. That shiny medal—it should be mine!
He bites down hard on his lip, his cloudy eyes staring straight ahead.
He steps forward.
Argus: Stay back!
But the man has already lunged at them.
COMBAT
A single blow from the butt of the mercenary's shotgun knocks the man out.
Tuesday: ...
The maid breathes heavily, her face slightly flushed.
Tuesday: I'm ever so sorry about all this, Ms. Vertin.
Tuesday: You've only just arrived, and you've had to deal with so much trouble already.
Vertin: Oh, it's no trouble. In fact, I'm glad that we came here.
Vertin: That man said he'd seen a "sheep-headed monster."
Tuesday: Oh, that ... He's quite delusional. Surely you won't take the ramblings of a madman for a fact, will you?
Tuesday: He's been peculiar since the day he checked in. He spasms and twitches and pays little attention to his surroundings.
Tuesday: It's best not to have a face-to-face conversation with him. Who knows what he'll do next.
Ms. Kimberly: Hey, you, maid! Enough chatter. You have a job to do.
The girl impatiently interrupts their conversation.
Ms. Kimberly: I've accepted the offer this, uh, Ms. Argus made. What's next? What should we do?
Tuesday: Apologies, Ms. Kimberly. I'll be with you in a moment.
Tuesday: Could the both of you wait for me at the front desk? The rooms need a tidy-up before they can be occupied. You may take a rest on the couch in the lobby while you wait.
Tuesday: Ms. Vertin, I'm afraid I'll have to leave you here. Do you mind going to your room alone?
Vertin: Not at all.
The suitcase sways with her steps as she heads to her room.
Once again, the air pulses with the flow of arcane energy, compelling her to look back.
Argus: Ma'am, you can just leave the room as it is. If you clean it, it'll interfere with my work.
Argus: You might wanna check on that Kimberly lady. She looks starved. She wouldn't stop shaking.
A cluster of emerald light sparks in the mercenary's left eye, scattering like a bird unfurling its brilliant tail feathers.
Tuesday: Oh, Ms. Kimberly. Would you like something to eat?
Ms. Kimberly: I'm fine!
The guest's face visibly sours.
Ms. Kimberly: I agreed to change rooms, didn't I? Why are you two still mocking me?
She turns her attention to the mercenary.
Ms. Kimberly: You're not exactly a pleasant person to do business with; you know that, right?
Argus: Well, darn, what got you so riled up?
Argus: It's too late now. A deal's a deal. You can backpedal if you like, but it ain't wise to mess with a girl packing heat down here in Texas.
Argus: Later, Ms. Kimberly.
The mercenary's eye gleams as she turns the lock and enters her hard-won room.
Vertin: Her arcane skill.