act43side

Excuse me, Mister, please let me through.

I want to go home.

I think the Crimson Troupe can take her in.

Take her in?

She doesn't know that her home is gone. She doesn't know that some of the people before her still have her family's blood on them...

That is what we'd call a fateful encounter, is it not?

As it was with you and the Troupe.

Perhaps you should teach her yourself. Teach her how to blend in, how to embrace a new life... how to walk the path that you have.

The show goes on, even once we've left the stage?

Ah, you remember what I said.

Yes, there is no drama like life. The aesthetics of destiny are never bound by any medium.

...Mister?

What do you think, Lucian?

Have you decided? You're in a position to make a choice now, aren't you?

Are you awake?

(Lazy yawn)

What's the matter?

The bitterness of obsession... your emotions.

A challenge to the palate?

I wouldn't say that.

But your flashbacks have become increasingly frequent since we came to this plate.

That means we're getting closer to him.

You noticed the strangeness of that coordinator.

As did you.

Unfortunately, she was visited by tragedy before I could extract any more clues.

You used that camera assistant to break the news of the Catastrophe?

It was too much a coincidence for that document to show up when it did, the way it did.

When one's been in enough plays, it's not hard to realize that such an obvious clue is bound to be a trigger.

Dalton's death was only the beginning.

The plot devices have been set, and their developments foreshadowed. The curtain has been raised, and it cannot be lowered again.

And the author will not appear until the story reaches the climax.

...Only then can I kill him.

(Yawn)

Be careful, Lucian.

I know.

What I mean is, be careful of yourself.

As I said, your emotions are filled with the bitterness of obsession... It's a dangerous thing.

I apologize, Miss.Christine.

You will not have to endure it for long.