act32side

Uh, wait, why are you carrying him now?

Urk... As soon as he saw the manuscript, he cried so hard he couldn't even breathe, and eventually passed out from his tears. It was all I could do to bear him on my back instead.

He passed out?

Doc, Doc! We need you! Someone's fainted here!

He's fine, he just cried himself out. His emotions likely overwhelmed him upon seeing the manuscript of his dreams.

Let him rest for a while in fresh air and he'll be fine.

I—If you say so...

...Miss Ela, that's every card up my sleeve. It's all yours now.

Noted.

What happens if we fail? What if we aren't able to rescue him?

In that case... I'll stay behind and keep him company.

I hope you can save the others before then, Miss Ela. I don't want any more people than necessary in here.

Right, I've pulled the metal casing off. Inside, there's a total of—

—Miłosz, you crackpot! There's twelve whole bomb wires here!

What? The one in the basement has over forty connections?!

Whatever, I'll settle this later.

Right now, I just need to dewire one by one, right?

Yeah. Yeah. Got it. Unscrew as fast as possible, half-connected states can send the explosives runaway easy. Understood.

Ela, how's things on your side?

Small band of resistance on the fourth floor still? Wow.

Diaz stops talking, wipes the sweat off his forehead, and focuses on dealing with the chaotic nest of wires at hand.

He has to decouple fast, and unscrew the connectors right after, using an insulator to cover up the naked wires and avoid any short-circuits.

In a trance, his days with the Singas army float through his mind, where his job was always to secure the connectors in—

Diaz furrows his brows and smacks his lips, hands never stopping. What happened then has nothing to do with now. Now, he's no more than a firefighter in the middle of bomb disposal.

The wires are more or less decoupled by now. Just two left, and all risk of explosion in this area is gone.

He's gotten a handle of how to most quickly twist these connectors off. Push down for the first half, spin slowly, then start turning with all his might for the second half until it's off.

He counts down the rotations on the second connector. Now just seven, six, five...

Seize that old man!

Two of El Capitán's men charge for the old firefighter with sabers in hand, while three crossbows are poised on the floor above.

The old firefighter's hands freeze upon the connector, and for a spell, he's somehow not sure if he's meant to twist one way or the other.