Thick, acrid smoke billows from the wreckage of the armored vehicle.
Marsha: cough
Marsha braces herself on a pile of debris, all at once letting herself feel the sharp tearing pain in her shoulder.
Marsha: It's over. Someone helped us.
Marsha: Pa ... Paravyan, are you alright?
She looks across the road. Just ahead, the young man is pinned under a heavy beam.
"Officer": Stay put, Marsha. You're bleeding.
"Officer": I can ... I can get myself out.
Paravyan strains with all his strength but can't move the timber an inch.
Marsha: We're all clear. Let me help you.
"Officer": Don't fuss over me. It's just a bit of wood. You need to stay put. Your head and shoulder are bleeding!
Marsha: What? Am I hurt?
Marsha staggers to her feet.
Marsha: Ugh, I'm feeling faint.
She reaches for the top of her head.
Marsha: It seems you're right. I'm bleeding profusely from several wounds. That's what I get for suppressing all my pain.
Marsha: Ah so, just a little shrapnel. Nothing too serious.
"Officer": Treat your wounds first, Marsha.
Marsha: Understood.
She leans back on a pile of fallen bricks, her head swaying until it slumps.
Marsha: I'll be alright. I just need a little rest.
...
Marsha: ...?
Her gaze lifts up to a pair of boots.
Then, the sizeable barrel of an anti-tank rifle.
Marsha: Who ...
She looks up.
Sentinel: ...
Marsha: You again ...
She struggles to her feet.
Sentinel: Sit.
Marsha: Um ...
Her legs buckle, leaving her braced up against the debris.
Marsha: You saved us. Thank you.
Sentinel: What brought you here?
Marsha: Collecting intel on Manus Vindictae.
Sentinel: Have you no reckoning on the danger in this place?
Marsha: ...
Marsha shakes her head.
Sentinel: Idiot. You might well have breathed your last in that battle.
???: Let go!
Sentinel: ...?
Marsha: Who's out there?
Sentinel turns, spotting a figure emerging from the armored vehicle's smoking shell.
???: Let me go! You're gonna get me killed!
At his feet lies a wounded soldier in the same black uniform.
Wounded Soldier: No! Sterling ... Please ...
Wounded Soldier: ...!
The wounded man's cries are cut short. Sterling turns two manic bloodshot eyes toward the advancing sniper.
Sterling: F**k!
Sentinel: ...
A bullet strikes the Gargoyle clean through her abdomen, but it draws no blood. Instead, chips of stony debris fall out from the wound.
Sterling: What the hell? You goddamn monster!
The man's eyes go wider still as he turns to flee.
Sentinel: Heh.
She does not give chase. She walks to Paravyan and lifts the beam from his body.
"Officer": cough
"Officer": Thanks. Who are you? Are you with the Foundation?
The young man finds his answer in her grim and stony face.
Sentinel: Stay here and tend to your comrade.
Sentinel: I will tend to our enemies.
Sterling: panting
Eugen: Are we the only ones left? Where's Kolten?
Sterling: Dead! Now get the lead out and run!
Sterling: She's coming at us! She's coming! Shoot her, Eugen, shoot her!
Eugen: I ... I can't see her. Where are we running?
Sterling: Look, there's an old mill ahead! We'll regroup there to intercept her—keep running, you idiot!
Eugen: I see her now. She's there.
Eugen: Die!
Eugen: Ugh!
Sterling: You idiot!
Sterling: Ugh. Ahhhh! My hand!
An old windmill lies just ahead—refuge, in his panicked mind.
Sterling: Urgh ... Huff ...
Sentinel: For the wicked flee, and I pursueth.
Sterling: ...!
Another bullet strikes her shoulder and glances off in another spray of stone.
Sterling: Why won't you die? You devil!
Sentinel: A devil, you call me?
Sentinel: What are you, then?
What hast thou done? The voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground.
Sentinel: You who discord between nations and plot schemes for the undoing of man. Who then is your master?
She steps closer.
Sentinel: For if you do the devil's work, are you not a devil like me? I pity you. Repent and you may yet find mercy in the judgment of the Lord.
And now art thou cursed from the earth,
Sterling: What the hell do you want? Back off!
Sentinel: Sterling, isn't it? You need not fear me. You still have time.
Sterling: Ahhhhh!
Which hath opened her mouth to receive thy brother's blood from thy hand.
Sentinel: Repent, and you may yet be saved. Speak.
Sterling: What are you talking about? What do you want from me?
When thou tillest the ground, it shall not henceforth yield unto thee her strength.
Sentinel: coughing
Sterling: ...
The soldier tumbles to the ground; as he scrambles, he launches into a desperate prayer.
Sentinel: Answer me. For what purpose does Manus Vindictae drive the world to war and ruin?
Sterling: Mother of Resurrection, the Guiding One ...
Sentinel: ...?
The prayer follows a pattern she knows by heart, yet the name he speaks is strange.
Sterling: Please have mercy on your humble servant. I pray for a miracle—a ladder into your eternal kingdom.
Sterling: I hereby offer my life to you. Please save me from desperation and take me to the golden era.
A fugitive and a vagabond shalt thou be in the earth.
He saves the last bullet for himself.
Sentinel: ...!
...
Sentinel: ...
Sentinel: A blasphemer to the end.
Marsha: Ms. Sentine.
Marsha: Ms. Sentinel!
