Little William: No. I'm not going with you! NEVER!
Little William clings to the seat rail, screaming loud enough to pierce steel.
After the quarantine order, passengers are scattered, some herded into the conductress's cabin.
Border Checkpoint Soldier I: Let go.
Soldiers pry open the boy's stubborn fingers one by one.
Semmelweis: Officers, with all due respect, you've taken a dozen passengers already.
Semmelweis: May I ask where you're taking them?
Border Checkpoint Soldier I: Shh!
A rifle raises, muzzle aimed at the boot now wedged in the doorframe.
Border Checkpoint Soldier I: Step back, ma'am.
Border Checkpoint Soldier I: Nobody leaves the carriage until quarantine is over.
Semmelweis: ...
She says nothing but pulls her foot back.
Border Checkpoint Soldier I: Thank you.
Border Checkpoint Soldier I: Just work with us, please, and soon this'll all be over.
The soldier slings the boy under his arm and marches off.
Little William: Annabelle! No!
The heavy lock clicks shut, leaving only anxious passengers and stone-faced soldiers.
Passenger II: No food, no water, and no idea how long they'll keep us. This isn't separation. It's imprisonment!
Passenger III: Worse than that! At least prisoners know their sentence!
Annabelle: They took William and Ms. Dorothy, and Rubuska hasn't come back, either.
Sensing the soldier's warning glare, the girl clutches her doll tight.
Semmelweis: ...
She presses her communicator and is met with static.
Her words and any vital intelligence she could share are stranded with her.
Semmelweis: Something's jamming my signal. And the teleport disk isn't working either. Heh, someone came prepared.
Semmelweis approaches the door and peers through the window into the next car.
Semmelweis: ...
The scene is carnage.
The once opulent carriage is a spectacle of disaster, its walls painted with blood.
Semmelweis: What on earth ...?
???: Aaahahah!
A low, drawn-out wail comes from the corner.
Semmelweis: Hm? Seems a little early for that soldier to be back.
Border Checkpoint Soldier II: What the—Everything alright?
Border Checkpoint Soldier II: Ah. Idiot. Better go check on him.
The soldier stiffens, lifts his rifle, and hurries away.
Semmelweis: He's gone. Conductress, I think it's time you and I had a heart-to-heart.
She steps up to the conductress, blunt and direct.
Semmelweis: This is all wrong.
Semmelweis: No food, no water, no radio signal. I don't believe they're doing anything to protect the passengers from infection. This isn't a quarantine; this is a cover-up.
Corvus: What are you suggesting?
The investigator reveals the badge in her hand.
Semmelweis: This insignia. I believe you have one just like it.
Corvus: That's what you were sniffing around for.
Semmelweis: It belongs to an organization I've been tracking—Manus Vindictae.
Corvus: Manus Vindictae?
Semmelweis: At first, I thought you were one of them. Yet here you are, locked up like the rest of us. Perhaps Pyrrhos doesn't trust you all that much.
Corvus's look of confusion—certainly genuine—serves to confirm her suspicion.
Semmelweis: The Manus are a group of extremist arcanists that take pleasure in chaos and despair. Heartless bastards, every last one of them.
Corvus: Never heard of them. The badge is Pyrrhos's, some kind of identifier for his men.
Semmelweis: When I took this mission, our intelligence suggested that the vampire I'm after may be associated with Manus Vindictae. If Pyrrhos is working with them, he could be working with the vampire aboard.
Semmelweis: It's possible, indeed, that he could be the vampire himself.
Corvus: ...
Corvus: Pyrrhos is a vampire.
No more evasions and equivocal answers, the conductress calmly reveals the truth.
Corvus: We were comrades-in-arms once. One of the most capable fighters we had—clever, composed, he always made the right decisions when it counted.
Corvus: I would never have thought he'd be involved with such an organization.
Semmelweis: I'm afraid it's almost certain that he's the vampire Manus Vindictae had sent to this train.
At last, a lead. Semmelweis breathes a long, drawn-out breath, letting the weight fall off her shoulders.
Semmelweis: Now that things are out in the open, do you have any idea what happened to my squad?
The reply comes with a resigned shake of her head.
Corvus: No. I haven't seen any of them.
Corvus: I'd know. As I've said before, this isn't the first time we've had the Foundation aboard. Last time there was a confrontation between them and some other arcanists.
Semmelweis: Hah. Sometimes, I think causing trouble might be our primary mission.
Semmelweis: But let's return to our vampire. I'm still not certain what Manus Vindictae is up to, but ...
Corvus: That vampire infection couldn't have been a coincidence. Someone meant for it to happen.
The conductress sneers, her fingers tracing the silver engraving on her pistol.
Corvus: I've known Pyrrhos a long time. But lately he's been strange. I usually wouldn't attempt to interfere with his business.
Corvus: But these are my passengers—my train.
Semmelweis: Glad to see we're finally on the same page. So, Conductress, can you get us out of here?
Corvus: Haste makes waste, Investigator. There's a loose thread I'm waiting for, then we can pull all of this together.
Semmelweis: We're long past the point for patience, if you ask me.
Annabelle: Ah!
A bloody hand slaps the window, smearing crimson streaks down the glass.
???: Oh ...
Semmelweis: Another Infected!
Semmelweis: What was that about "haste makes waste," Conductress?
Corvus: ...
Infected Passenger: Through. Let me through.
Thud. Thud.
The man mumbles flatly, headbutting the glass again and again until blood pours from his brow.
Infected Passenger: Let me through.
Annabelle: Ah!
Annabelle: He's ... He's breaking in.
Infected Passenger: Let me through, let me through, let me through, let me through.
Semmelweis: Conductress, there must be something muting arcane skills on this train.
Corvus: Arcane skills aren't everything.
She pulls the passengers behind her, draws her sidearm, and takes aim.
Infected Passenger: Uggh!
Before the shot fires, the infected passenger is yanked away by an unseen force.
Another splash of blood smears across the window.
Semmelweis: What was that? Another Infected?
The sound dies. Then comes a faint rustling outside the door.
A familiar face rises into view beyond the glass.
Aima: No. It's just me.
Semmelweis: Is she what you were waiting for, Conductress?
Corvus: Exactly. Aima, you drew that soldier away, yes?
Aima: Mm-hm. I waited for just the right moment.
Corvus: Well done. What's our situation?
Aima: There are Infected everywhere—the cabins, the hallways—all through the train. They seem to be running out from the station warehouse.
The stewardess goes pale, recounting everything she saw outside.
Aima: There's blood everywhere, too, on the walls, on the floor ... I tried my best not to look at it.
Semmelweis: Was it you who killed that Infected just now?
Aima: Well …
She tugs shyly at her eyepatch.
Corvus: I ensure all crew on the "Danube Dawn" are trained in self-defense. It's hardly surprising.
Corvus: Go ahead, Aima.
Aima: Oh, yes.
She lowers her head, clenched fist trembling.
Aima: I saw those soldiers in their carriages. I thought they'd be caring for the passengers or removing the Infected, but ...
Aima: They did nothing, as if it were of no concern to them whatsoever.
Aima: They took the passengers, one by one, to some kind of detention room for inspection, then sent them to the warehouse. But then they started coming back out, like that.
She wipes a smear of blood from her cheek, then slips her finger briefly into her mouth.
Aima: Uncle Pyrrhos ... I don't know what's happened to him, but we have to find him.
Corvus: I see. How many soldiers remain aboard the train?
Aima: Not many. A few were sent to guard the detention room. I-I think we can handle the ones that are left!
The meek girl pumps her fist in an uncommon gesture of confidence.
Corvus: Good. Everything is in place; let's move.
Aima: Wait, shh. I hear footsteps.
Aima: They saw me just then. I can't be seen here again.
Aima's eye darts around before she ducks behind the curtains.
Then, the door is opened forcefully.
Border Checkpoint Soldier II: Damn it. This is getting out of hand.
Soldiers, having dealt with the "unexpected occurrence," rush in, weapons raised at the frightened passengers.
Border Checkpoint Soldier II: Where were we? On to the next passenger.
The muzzle drifts left and right, finally settling on Annabelle.
Border Checkpoint Soldier II: You. Little girl. It's your turn.
Annabelle: Me? I don't want to go!
Border Checkpoint Soldier II: Come now, be quiet.
The muzzle is locked in place.
Corvus: You heard her.
Corvus: She said: No.
In the scuffle, two shots ring out, each slamming into the metal ceiling.
The soldier tries to wrench back his rifle, but Corvus's grip is unyielding.
Border Checkpoint Soldier II: You! Let go!
Corvus: She's not going.
Border Checkpoint Soldier III: What's going on? Stand down, all of you!
Another soldier appears behind them, gun in one hand, whistle in the other, his fingers shaking.
Corvus: Go, Aima.
Aima: Y-Yes. Understood!
The stewardess tears off her eyepatch, revealing her other blood-red eye.
Before the whistle meets his lips, she leaps from the shadows, slamming into him.
Border Checkpoint Soldier III: Aargh! Get off me!
In a second, her arm snakes around his neck.
Border Checkpoint Soldier III: Uggh!
Aima: Apologies for the shock, but thank you for the gun and whistle.
COMBAT
The soldiers collapse.
Aima drags them to the corner, exhales, and pulls her eyepatch down.
Aima: No one will take you away, Annabelle, at least for the time being.
Aima: Hm? Why is everyone so quiet?
Passengers stare in slack-jawed silence. The girl runs up, tugging excitedly at her skirt.
Annabelle: Red eyes, fangs ... A-Are you a vampire too, Stewardess?
Aima: Oh. Well, yes, I am. But don't worry. It won't affect your service in any way whatsoever!
Annabelle: But your other eye is all clear and blue, like a lake, not red at all. How did you do that?
Aima: I-I'm not a pure-blood vampire.
She shakes her head quietly before looking away; she has no intention of going any deeper into the subject.
Semmelweis: I have to say, I didn't expect the stories of a vampire train to actually hold any truth. Though I doubt any of the stories had our vampires pouring tea and fluffing pillows.
Corvus: There was never any truth to them. Aima may be a vampire, yes, but she's never done anyone harm.
Semmelweis: Then, earlier, in the forest ...
She recalls the night in the snow, with the two of them pressed close together.
The storm was so thick she could barely see, only mist, trees, and a red scarf whipping in the wind.
Corvus: It was bloodthirst, so I gave her mine. It's an arrangement of ours.
Corvus adjusts the scarf around the small stewardess's neck.
Semmelweis: First a secret carriage, now a vampire stewardess. What else might you be hiding up your sleeve?
Corvus: Nothing of your concern. We share a common interest, so let us treat each other as comrades.
Corvus: There may be tricks up my sleeve, but for now, we watch, wait, and then strike.
Semmelweis: You surprise me more and more, Conductress. Comrades it is, but what's our next move?
Corvus: ...
Corvus: I wish there were some other way, old friend.
She exhales, a cold light flashing in her eyes.
Corvus: Aima, how many passengers are left on board?
Aima: I didn't count precisely; there were already quite a few that were taken to the detention room.
Aima: Oh! Conductress, are you going to ...
Corvus pushes through the crowd to a tall cabinet and yanks it open.
Corvus: You there. Ever handled a gun before?
Stowaways: Whoa ...
Weapons line the wall in neat rows, gleaming under the light.
Each one meticulously polished and ready, as if awaiting their call to battle.
Semmelweis: ...
Semmelweis: Yet another surprise. I don't think I ever would have expected you to be lugging an armory around with you.
Corvus: It's a hobby. Take this.
She takes a pistol down and tosses it to Semmelweis.
Corvus: Silver bullets are more effective than arcane skill when dealing with vampires and their Infected.
Corvus: Anyone old enough to handle a weapon, arm yourselves. We have a fierce battle ahead.