act21side

The new generation of cubs vent their repressed violence, while the old wolves turn their eyes to a new prize.

Pretty great, huh? With Columbia's return to the fold, the stagnant cesspool that is Siracusa gets a new lease on life.

No matter who wins in the end, it all works out for the woman at the top of Grey Hall, Signora Sicilia.

Wait, you don't mean...

You've done a great job these past few years. You suppressed the other famiglie, and took control of il Ministero dei Lavori Pubblici.

If things keep going that way, the Bellones will get that last laugh.

But what will it accomplish?

Our famiglia gets absolute control over the new nomadic city, and after that, it's back to business as usual.

And you want more than that. Or rather, <i>he</i> wants more than that?

Since Grey Hall was established, since the Dodici Famiglie were prohibited from warring against one another, who has ever really been content?

We used to be hungry, unscrupulous wolves, and the struggles between our famiglie were bloody and endless.

But now, the newest generation of cubs is all nice and comfy in their shackles.

They're used to coexisting with other famiglie. They find solutions to conflicts. They argue with each other in Grey Hall over what you call dividing up the spoils.

We never did any of that. No need to.

So he wants to overthrow the Grey Hall?! But how?

One individual has allowed the famiglie to act independently, but she will never permit them to violate her ironclad law. There can't be any fighting in broad daylight.

We were about to win, and only under these conditions could our sudden fall from power get the attention of the jealous famiglie.

Wolves fight. That's nature. They don't hold back at the smell of blood, no matter how domesticated they've become.

They tear into each other, claws, fangs, and all.

That's how we get this particular individual to step out of Grey Hall.

And we'll all be waiting for that one moment.

'Crack.' The crisp sound of glass shattering echoes across the empty room.

The pup is unaware of the wounds caused by the splinters.

We'll get the last laugh, Leon.

And when we do, we'll control more than just a new city. We'll have all of Siracusa.

That's what your father, Bernardo Bellone, who single-handedly made the Bellones the most powerful of the Dodici Famiglie, wants for us.

You're wrong.

Huh?

I haven't stopped you. Or I guess I should say, you still have a backup plan, right?

You knew from the very beginning that you'd be found out, so you waited here for me on purpose.

The reason I'm here... is because I figured I had to face up to your anger.

I owe you an apology, both as your closest friend, and as your soldier.

I don't expect you to forgive me, but I at least want you to know that I didn't sleep well doing what I did.

Stop talking like you're giving a victory speech!

...I lost, Leon. Really.

But maybe, this is just the kind of place Siracusa is. Just maybe, the Don's ambitions were right.

Just as I was about to admit defeat, she appeared.

Who?

A lunatic.

Tell me, Gambino. Can you guess the best way to ruin somebody's day?

Huh? Take his head clean off, right?

What do you think, Capone?

Find his friends and family. Kill 'em one by one, sit him down, and treat him to a slideshow with their pictures.

*sigh*... That's why I always say you two will never amount to anything.

Hah, then let's hear your bright idea.

His faith, my friends. His faith.

You destroy his faith?

Destroy? No, how could you destroy a man's faith with your hands? That can't be done.

But you give him a gentle push, and let him watch his faith fall right out of the sky.

And then, whoosh—

Crash!

It shatters into a million little pieces.

And how do you get a man to shatter his faith so easily?

Oh, no, no. You misunderstand me. Faith is pure and clean, but life is filthy.

'So easily'?

A better question is, how could it be hard?

So... does this have somethin' to do with us gettin' you that truck.

Hah, I get it. You're gonna run over that judge to shake Texas up, right?

Does she come across as the kind of woman who'd break down over one dead judge?

What are you gonna do then?

You're the Lappland who was exiled from Famiglia Saluzzo. Why are you here in Volsinii?

Wait, how'd you even get back into Siracusa?!

You know how the Bellones have a connection with Cellinia that nobody knows about? I got me a connection with the Saluzzo name that'd make you retch.

So, you're here on their behalf?

You could say that.

By the way, I think you should probably put the weapons you have under the table.

Dying here won't do you or your plans any good.

Let's make a deal, Bellone cub.

You want the case dismissed, don't you?

I can help with that.

Is that... what Alberto Saluzzo wants?

I'm his daughter, and I know him better than anyone.

Haven't you been dying to find out exactly what I'm doing back in Siracusa?

It's simple. I need her to understand...

That Siracusa is a swamp. You don't get to just wade your way out.

That goes for all of us.

As such, you confess to having committed all the aforementioned acts?

I was.

Very well. I hereby proclaim that Cellinia Texas is guilty of murdering Ministro Carracci, Ministro dei Lavori Pubblici.

I pronounce you—

What's going on?

What was that sound? Anybody else hear that?

It's... an engine?

But we're in a courthouse. How could that—

For the mafiosi of yesteryear, the unspoken rules were held above all else.

Signora Sicilia placed the shackles of the law around the necks of the famiglie.

Thus, a court of law was erected in every Siracusan city.

In Siracusa, the courts stand for Grey Hall's will.

And the judges are executors of Signora Sicilia's will.

The judges inevitably find themselves controlled by the famiglie, sometimes even submitting to them. However, every judge knows there is one line that cannot be crossed—

They must prevent fights between the Dodici Famiglie.

Just as the Dodici all know their every move is always under the watchful eye of Signora Sicilia.

Thus, a delicate balance of power is established through the courts.

But now—

A declaration of contempt for Signora Sicilia.

A mockery of the very laws of Siracusa.

With an engine's roar squeezed between bouts of high-pitched laughter...

A truck rips through the wall.

And even after crashing its way inside, the engine does not stop.

As if proclaiming to others—