Caroline Bartley: Did you hear that? The Games have been suspended.
Willow: Yes.
Caroline walks back to Willow's side.
Caroline Bartley: I suppose we should head home and await further notice. Maybe the Games will continue once the smog clears.
The workers appear to be clearing up something from the floor.
Willow: What, go home and spit in the faces of everyone who worked so hard to make this happen?
Caroline Bartley: Hmm?
More and more spectators get to their feet as they prepare to leave.
Willow: No.
Caroline Bartley: What do you mean, "no"?
Willow: I won't wait any longer.
Willow turns and strides directly toward the judges' tent.
Caroline Bartley: Charlotte ...
Realizing Willow's intent, a sudden impulse takes hold of her as she spins to face the stands.
Spectator IV: Damn this bloody smog!
A few spectators reach for the railings as they get ready to leave.
Caroline Bartley: Wait, everyone! The Games aren't over yet!
Spectator IV: But the competitors aren't even competing! What's the point of staying?
Audience Member V: sigh Why don't I go and dance on the floor instead?
Broadcast: buzz
Broadcast: Everyone, please return to your seats. Player No. 2408, Willow.
Spectator IV: What?
Willow's dark silhouette now stands firm at the center of the floor.
Just as she did all those years ago, she touches the didgeriwood at the front of the arena.
Willow: I've lived in seclusion for ten years. Trained alone with nothing but the pain in my leg and my own arrogance.
The sounds of people's hopes for Uluru flow steadily into her ears.
Willow: Therefore, on this day, on this floor, I will perform without care for what anyone thinks.
Willow strikes her beginning pose, a black swan in the smog, and the didgeriwood starts to play.
Willow: Palest yellow turns to godly light ...
Willow: The sun births shadows, the moon shines bright!
Willow: Lugh, reborn from dark's embrace, I walk your path, in sacred space.
Willow: Life's end is death, but bones to life ascend!
Willow: Lugh, before me, from underworld I wend.
Willow: Lugh, gaze on me, I rise from shadows dark.
Willow: Lugh, heed me, your power impart, as you are me, and I your counterpart!
Spectator I: The smog ... It's clearing!
Spectator III: Everyone, come back! The Games are on again!
Spectator I: There's something there! There in the smog!
Black Fog: roar
FINAL BOSS "Aggregated Filth"
The didgeriwood sounds a long, hollow note as Willow leads the crowd into an almost trance-like state.
Following Willow's lead, the crowd chants the prayer over and over, fueled by a zeal for the sport and a longing for the sun.
In the wake of the mass ritual, the black fog dissolves into nothingness.
Black Fog: roar
With its body almost entirely disintegrated, the black fog is reduced to a core of thin, smoky soot as it scrambles frantically to avoid the sunlight.
Mr. Fog: Alright, you filthy little thing! It's time you learnt a lesson!
Air Purifier MK. III: Thud! Sssss ...
Mr. Fog activates his London Air Pollution Auto-Detecting Purifier MK. III, and after a few puffs of black smoke, it roars to life.
Mr. Fog: You are under arrest for the pollution of the sky as well as 15 crimes in violation of the Public Health Act! Take a good look around, because before long, you'll be rotting behind bars!
Black Fog: Aww ...
Mr. Fog aims the purifier at the panicked black fog and sucks in every last bit of the remaining coal ash.
Black Fog: Aww ... Aw?
The purifier's glass dome fills with black dust in an instant before it coalesces into a number of small black orbs.
The little orbs peer out of the glass dome with a curious and confused expression.
Mr. Fog: It may be broken, but it's still an air purifier!
The didgeriwood's melody slowly dies down.
Willow stands in the center of the field, panting and drenched in sweat.
Willow: That's all ... from me ... Thank you ... for watching.
She gives a deep bow.
The spectators return to their senses, and the long-absent winter sun shines down on them once more.
No longer is the world shrouded in shades of steel gray and ashen yellow.
They stare in amazement at each other, a few reaching their hands into the sunlight, feeling its warm caress.
Applause breaks out from a corner of the crowd.
It soon builds into a raucous cheer.
One spectator spontaneously steps forward and embraces Willow.
The crowd swells as more and more people step forward to embrace her in the simplest and most pure expression of joy.
To infuse life with vitality, to eliminate all boundaries, to unite people—that is the true meaning of the Uluru Games.
Flutterpage: Yay! Yayyy!
Unable to squeeze her way through, Flutterpage leaps over the crowd, waving to Willow as she hangs in the air. Meanwhile, Caroline remains in the stands, elegantly applauding.
Willow: ...
Willow gives the two of them a subtle nod.