level_act32side_04_end

Tecno seems ready with the equipment she's wearing, but her constant ear-scratching tells me otherwise.

Should we act now?

Hold on, we'll wait for her to land first. I don't want to crash into her when I go down.

Hey, hey, hey! Slow down, you're dropping me too fast!

She thinks that's fast?

She's like a tiny feather falling slowly in the air.

This isn't the best time to be laughing yourself silly.

She's in position.

Everything's in place, you can go.

Ela grabs the safety rope with both hands, twists her body out of the window, and stands on the outer wall trying to balance her suspended body against the wind.

She waits until the wind gradually dies down, and frees a hand to straighten her cap that had slanted in the wind as she flashes a smile to Fuze.

Soon after, she lets go of the rope with her remaining hand and disappears out the window, leaving only a rope sliding quickly from the windowsill.

Phew... alright, seems like they managed to connect.

Waahhh—! Why are you here too?!

Quiet, and pay attention. You almost cut a major cable.

What happened to those people following you?

Shook them off.

Didn't Papá tell you not to get involved...?

Yeah, he did.

Then why did you come?

To make sure you don't mess up this project.

Why you...! Are you talking to me like that just because you know what to do?

Well, do you?

Er...

I did a quick scan of the puppet's arm controls on the way down here, the hydraulic driver is the one causing the problem. Hand me your tools.

They're right above, hurry!

We would have caught them a long time ago if that woman didn't get in our way.

Heh...

Time to deal with my troubles.

Boss! Good news, the cables are free!

So soon? Alright, get Tecno back up and we'll get back to assembling the puppets' limbs.

She says she wants to stay in there.

What?

I said, I want to stay here! I'll help out with the installation from here!

Ah, I'm glad that you want to help us out, but can you promise you won't bother Miss Ela over here?

Say that again and I'll fly right up and smash your face in!

*ahem* Miss Ela, do you mind if she stays here, for my face's sake?

Of course, Tecno is a loyal friend. She doesn't want me to risk my life all alone at such a height. How can I feel anything other than gratitude?

*cough* *cough*!

Hey, look! The puppet's arm is moving again!

That's Tecno over there... but why's someone else with her?

Who is that? An engineer? A technician? Tecno's assistant?

An assistant? For real? Tecno never liked other people getting involved in her designs.

Let me take a look again... Nope, something's blocking my view. Hey, you over there! Can you tell who it is?

You talking to me?

Yeah, you've been looking that way for a good while now. Can you make out who's with Tecno?

You mean Ela? That's a little complicated—

Woah, am I seeing things or did that one just hit Tecno on the head...? The last guy who did something like that almost got a finger bitten off.

Uh, I guess you could say she's... a friend of Tecno's?

Damn, you slipped away so fast.

Mmph...

Huh. A tough one, staying silent after tasting one of my punches.

Get out of the way, unless you plan on dying here!

Ahhh—!!

Hold on, Tecno! We'll be right there, that woman won't touch another hair on your head!

Get your hands off me! What are you up to?!

Get away from the window!

Tecno! Are you alright?!

Wh-Why are you up there?

Papá sent me to watch these foreigners and I heard you screaming, what did that woman do to you?! I'll be down to help right away!

Uh, no, it's nothing, I'm fine... I just... just...

I only bopped her on the head.

Did it hurt?

No...

Then why did you scream?

I... uh, anyway, I'm totally fine, you guys go back and tell Papá everything's okay. I'll watch her and nothing will go wrong.

Tecno. Pass me the soldering tools, thanks.

Here you go.

(Whispering) She's... willing to play assistant...?

See, they're working so well together. Everything's okay, right?

The puppets are all done, boss!

Phew... is everyone ready? Amigos, this is the hardest part.

We must give them a pulse. Give them blood, vitality, life.

I've been ready for a while, boss. Give the order.

Hello, everyone. After more than six months of hard work and dedication, we've overcome our obstacles and finally arrived at the end. Thank you all for sticking with it.

Listen up, everybody. Our first rehearsal is about to begin.

Come on, girls. Let's bat those eyelashes.

They're alive.

I've pictured this many times.

From the flyers, design drafts, and what everyone was saying... I figured I'd have to compromise on my design, that the pair could never be what I wanted them to be.

What about now, looking at them with your own eyes?

All I can say is... it's beyond what I could've imagined myself.

Iana is once again struck by their beautiful faces and delicate construction as she looks at the two puppets blinking away.

They looked like beautiful art installations when they were standing still, but their movements have now transformed them into the two most beautiful girls in town.

Iana is unable to glimpse their eyes as their thick lashes lower too quickly for her to get a good look.

Suddenly, one of them lowers her head, turning toward Iana. Her lower eyelashes lift without dropping back down, and their gazes meet.

A pair of vermillion pupils.

Why are her eyes orange?

It's the morning sun reflecting in them. She'll dance under the sun as much as she likes.

Oh, so it's the sun making that color.

You know, we originally wanted to have their eyes in black because it'd be easier. But Tecno disagreed, she thinks black is the worst color to pair with the sun.

No, she's got it wrong.

The worst color to pair with the sun is actually white.

The puppets begin to stretch their limbs as the crowd cheers on. Moving each joint takes a group of people and all their strength, shouting as they pull the rope in unison.

On pull! Uno, dos, tres, pull!

Gargh—!

The puppets lift their knees, and take a step forward.

Alright, everyone! Uno, dos, tres, release!

Eargh——!

The puppets wave their arms and brush them against their sides.

Okay, uno, dos, tres, again!

Hyah———!

They walk briskly through the residential buildings along a path made by the spectators, occasionally bending down to fit below the skyways.

They eventually stop in the neighborhood's central square.

One, two, three! Argh—!

Thanks, friend.

Want to find a better spot to enjoy the show?

I'm good, the view from this window isn't bad.

What time is it...? Yes, almost here.

As the sky gradually darkens and the twin moons rise from the far side of the city, the moonlit concrete floor appears to resemble a frozen lake in winter.

As the two puppet dancers twirl on the ground, the moonlight highlights their bodies as they move to the castanets' rhythm, alternating between straightening and twisting.

Music pours out from the skyscrapers, roofs, alleys, and even some dimly lit windows.

This is an impromptu ensemble performance, without a rehearsal or conductor.

The sounds flow freely along with the puppet dancers' choreography.

Their skirts catch the notes landing at their feet, transforming them into a part of their beautiful dance.

The tall puppets lower their heads, watching those at their feet.

Those people, small and light as a feather, follow in their dance steps.

They leap into the air and come back down to the ground.

Still think I wasn't talking sense?

(Shakes head)

It was well worth it.

So you were willing to help them out because you envisioned something like this?

No, I never thought of it that way. It wouldn't have been fun otherwise.

Woah, amazing. Who taught you the harmonica?

It was Mama, she can do anything, she can play this, she can dance, she can draw, she can even bake super yummy ker-sonts.

Mama is my favorite person!

I have the utmost respect for this superhuman woman, but I must insist—it should be pronounced 'Cwuh-son'!

......Quaso?

Hahahaha—!

Ugh... forget it.

I'm going to get some coffee.

Señor Reynell, I've finished inspecting the box, and it'll take a few weeks to repair it.

But I've managed to reproduce a portion of the drum according to that hidden score. Would you like to hear it?

Yes...

A melody pours out of the box, bringing Reynell back more than a decade, to a time when he hid behind a door to eavesdrop on the tinkling coming from his mother's workshop.

Judging by this little bit I've restored, it must be a lullaby.

An extremely simple tune.

Yes, I was surprised when I first heard it, because I recall that your mother crafted elaborate melodies into her older works.

She wrote this piece herself...

She's no professional composer, but she, as a mother, wrote this simple lullaby for her child.

Nothing special about it.

But it must be special to that child, at least.

Señor Reynell... you've been staring out the window this whole time, is something there?

Nothing much, just watching the moons rise.