heidi

And, well... I presume this Uncle Jack you mention was left there with his limbs broken; he must have... long breathed his last.

I could explain to you the kind of brute violence the Sarkaz dole out to civilians, and why we have to endure, to protect ourselves, but...

Doesn't matter.

If you're not going, forget it.

You're right... Explaining it doesn't matter.

I'm not stupid. I figured that much.

I just hate it, it feels horrible. Uncle Jack like that, I keep seeing it.

(If Golding were here, I'm sure she would pained so to see the children in this state.)

(But... she at least taught them, for when tragedy visits them, to hold onto their sense of pain.)

Leo.

To tell the truth, I'm... here to check on where Golding used to live.

There's no need to hide it. I've heard the news of her death.

When she wasn't holding your lessons, where would she usually be?

Um, the bookshop, and the corridors if they were sunny... and, right, she had an office.

But she didn't stay inside there much. And it was always locked, too, when she was in <i>and</i> when she was out.

Hm... Is it the room over that way?

Did she tell you about it?

She's described to me, many a time, the scene one can peek through the cracks in the closed shutters. She said a broken lamppost stood outside the window. Damaged by a Sarkaz at some point, and nobody dared to go touch it.

Oh, okay. Well, anyway, it's locked—

—That's smoke, isn't it?!

Where would the fire be?

No, wait, it's a signal. There's Sarkaz coming close to the 'storehouse'.

That's...

Yes, this happens with the school's basement. Lt. Colonel Lettou realized as much long ago.

Is someone down there? No, they can't be. Who would come out to a place like this?

Even back when the school still had plenty of students, a long while ago, you see, we'd throw any odds and ends we had no place to keep down there. Scrap catching itself on fire has, well, happened more than once in the school's history.

That's why you smelled smoke. I thought something wasn't right about the air either, so I came down to check.

(She's... trembling. But she's still keeping the students away, all by herself.)

(Maybe I was just apprehensive, and she's innocent after all.)

(Lettou's Sarkaz aren't too obedient to him, and wouldn't trust her either.)

(She just glanced that way. That's where the others should be concealed.)

Leo, can you trust me now? Would you like to try taking down that Sarkaz a different way?

Go on.

We'll try and lure them all off.

Phew...

Thank you for saving us all!

Oh, you're hurt...

That's fine, just a little trickle—anything to get out of that rubble and scrap metal faster. We're lucky Leo isn't hurt.

...Lady Heidi?! Why are you pointing your cane at me?

Don't be too nervous; I just want to ask you one simple question. If you answer correctly, I'll be convinced of your trustworthiness.

What was the first thing Clovisia ever said to you?

What...? I don't recall this name, I'm not sure who you're telling me about, I'm sorry...

That's alright, Molly, thank you.

I apologize—when I told you I was being tailed before, that was just a lie meant to feel you out...

Now I trust that you still love every child of this school, as you always earnestly have.

Also, you <i>are</i> completely unaware of the changes that transpired in this time.

In this time... You're right, yes. I've missed a great deal.

Listen to me. The Victorians that used to be active in Londinium's underground have suffered heavy losses. The Citizens' Self-Salvation Corps' network is unable to reach anybody.

Moreover, I didn't note being shadowed when I came, but the Sarkaz <i>have</i> appeared here.

I fear they've suspected this place for a while now, and Lt. Colonel Lettou's words... may not hold so much sway anymore.

It is no longer safe here. You all must find some way to relocate somewhere else.

But where would we go?

In vain, she lifts her head and glances to the underground passage, its walls of concrete pitch-black.

She, like every other citizen trapped in Londinium, like Heidi, is left at a loss.

Please, be strong for a little while more, Molly.

A woman once told me that it is a must, that Victorians safeguard their homeland.

I trust her. I trust that by our efforts together, we can build peace.

Haha, what a superficial piece of speech. I'm sure if Golding heard, I'd have her laughing at me again.

She knows she hasn't convinced anyone. As the crunching of a tank rumbles through the street outside, the two hang their heads low, gravely low.

I just wanted to come and see the place she lived. And... pick up a letter she'd stowed there.

So you know she's...

Mm.

The din of war engulfs all language.

Molly approaches Heidi, stands on faint tiptoes, and wraps her tightly in a hug, gently patting her back.

Go.

Relaying intelligence out of both the Sarkaz and the dukes' sight is growing more dangerous of an ask, isn't it?

Your last reply hasn't even arrived in my hands, and yet here you are beating it to the punch.

Haha, quite... you're as shrewd as ever.

It's like I hardly needed to write what I did at all, let alone see you in person.

I'd be very disappointed if so, Heidi.

You tell me of how things are trending outside, update me on the Self-Salvation Corps and its supporters across each district...

And our vision fills with all the inescapable vanity and conspiracy of the age, all the might and right. Is it beyond our eyes to see anything else, now?

...Of course not.

Then let down your hair for a bit, and take a break.

The children are out there frolicking in the street. This is when nobody enters the classroom to bother us.

...Very well.

I went looking per the leads you provided, but there's still no word from Ross.

The situation in Sudean has ratcheted even tighter; I have to return there after. Do you remember the name 'Rhodes Island'? They'll reach Londinium very soon...

...I'm sorry, that all just bubbled up from somewhere.

That's alright. You go on. I know the responsibility you're shouldering.

You said before that if anything happened to you, you might need me to handle some intelligence work in your place. Even now, I'm not sure whether I'd be able to...

No, no, Golding, let's talk of something else.

Say—would you like to go to the theater?

Right now?

Sometime.

Once... all this is over, and Victoria rings in peaceful days again.

When we're not performers acting out this life, nor authors wracking our brains to slip our messages through the cracks.

When we're just normal people in the audience, moved purely by the developments of a play, free from the terror of all the rumors offstage.

We'll give each actor a bouquet in their spitting image, just like we used to—I've always felt those bouquets really complemented you.

Of course... Yes, why not.

But... when will we find ourselves, once all this is over?

Why are you always waiting...? And what makes you so able to wait?

...Golding.

An unsent letter rests where it was placed, there on a dusty desk.

'Heidi, how do I break the children free from this age of violence? And how do I break free from it myself?'

'Oh, we impotent, defenseless book-lovers.'

'In this age where rationality and humanity have given way, whose follower should I be?'

That teacher who so loved to correspond in red pen as a joke, in her final letter, used a soft, plaintive black ink to write of her despair.

Heidi, there are times I see you looking so far ahead.

It's hardly that I distrust you. I trust peace will come eventually.