level_main_11-17_end

The sound of steam.

Heavy gushing.

'Stand up, **.'

'Training time, **.'

'Not bad, **. A Steam Knight at your age! You're our pride, and the pride of Victoria!'

Unintelligible syllables. Is someone calling his name?

But he cannot remember his own name anymore.

Evans? Jones? Wilson? Lynch?

None of them, and all of them.

'We are the Steam Knights.'

'We vow to defend Victoria unto our last breath.'

But why...

Why were his fellows hidden in the shadows behind the outlanders' swords?

His comrades fell, one by one.

In the end, he was the only one left. He was The Last Steam Knight.

He cannot fall here. The Steam Knights must not fall.

Victoria needs him. He must fulfill his duty.

No medicine, no matter. The armor will repair his flesh and blood.

No food, no matter. There are always critters crawling in the darkness.

No light, no matter. The sword gives him all the light he needs.

He is not dead. The Steam Knights are not dead. They continue to defend Victoria.

But...

What is Victoria?

I swore an oath before the King, before the people, before the world.

I stood vigil, night after night, but where lies the light of Victoria that I have sworn fealty to?

Is Victoria its king?

They hanged the king.

Is Victoria Parliament and the nobles?

No maintenance, no supplies, no new members. They sent the Steam Knights into mortal danger time after time, in order to feed their greed.

Is Victoria the people?

The people praise the Steam Knights, honor the Steam Knights, glorify the Steam Knights. They place all their hopes, all their dreams upon the Steam Knights. Nothing can carry hopes that are so contradictory, so complex.

What is Victoria?

Does Victoria only exist in the imagination?

There is still the sword, the Sighs of Kings.

It is the symbol of Victoria, beyond all doubt.

Then it will be his Victoria.

Now, someone wants to defile his Victoria.

This is unacceptable.

He cannot lose his last—

(Heavy gushing)

'Victoria.'

D-Do you hear, knight?

I cannot command you.

I ask you to allow us to take the sword.

Not because of who I am.

Londinium needs it.

No, not Londinium.

The children shivering in orphanages need it. The farmers who lost hearth and home to war need it.

The workers pouring sweat and blood into their machines need it. The citizens who drink away their helplessness need it.

The soldiers who step forward to protect their homes need it. Rhodes Island, trying to avert disaster, needs it.

It is not a storm that it will dispel. It is the fear.

This is how it must be used.

It's not your Victoria, knight.

Allow me to pass.

Not Victoria?

Then where is Victoria?

The Steam Knight is filled with confusion and anger.

Where is Victoria?!

What is the Victoria that he served?!

(Heavy gushing)

He's getting faster!

We can't stop him!

Allerdale!

Your Highness Alexandrina.

Do you remember the day we met?

We should have spoken more. You appeared at the ducal manor, with that sword.

It was a beautiful afternoon.

There was music in the garden. The flowers bloomed brightly. People danced and talked about tomorrow. Everything was filled with hope.

I boasted that I would become a Steam Knight.

The light shone upon the sword... and upon you.

They said what happened that afternoon was a miracle.

She was running.

The freshly-trimmed grass made her feet itch. Jim the Gardener laughed by the bushes. Ailshie ran after her, calling for her to slow down.

But she was eager to run towards the freshly-blooming flowers. They were golden, shining under the sun, like the emblem of House Cumberland.

Her father picked her up, sat her on his shoulder. She lifted her tiny palm, and let her touch the lines on the steam armor.

The broken armor stands up.

Her father is gone. She has grown up, and she no longer stands before the armor. She feels the heavy weight of the armor on her shoulder.

Through her visor, she sees a golden lion at the end of the path.

'Allerdale Cumberland.

You will meet Vina again, someday.'

It's been hard for me to believe in miracles, after all these years.

Ailshie told me that I don't know who I will be.

I'm afraid there won't be a 'will be'.

How old was I? I don't remember. I promised Ailshie that I'd become a Steam Knight and protect everyone.

At least, I have the chance to face a Steam Knight now.

I hear you, Vina. There's no such thing as fate or destiny.

Not for House Cumberland, not for the dukes.

To hell with destiny. I'm tired.

Tired of playing a noble, playing a leader, playing a friend.

You're the leader of the Self-Salvation Corps because they trust you.

You're my friend because I say you are.

Hah. That's enough, Vina.

Let's put an end to the fable.

Tell Morgan to cast me in a better light in her memoir, Dagda.

Use more refined words, at least.

What's going on?

The wind...

A gust of wind blows them outside.

One solemn face falls after another, as the statues of the kings collapse, one by one.

The rubble separates them from the Steam Knight... and someone else.

Siege immediately reacts.

Allerdale!

Forgive me...

Her lips move slightly.

Siege knows Allerdale called to her.

Was it 'Vina'? Or 'Your Highness'?

Siege does not know.

She may never know.

The sound is drowned by the rubble.

The door is shut.

Alright, come now, my nightmare...

My hope.

(Heavy gushing)

One scene floats to the surface of the Steam Knight's tumultuous memories.

A girl sheds tears for him before he stands up.

Pah—

Son of a—

There's nowhere to run!

Last smoke grenade. We still have a chance.

You've done enough, mercenary.

Surrender, and they might let you live.

No way. How many more years would I have to work?

Enough.

End this.

Were you the ones manipulating Allerdale?

No, it's not you. The cowardly dukes wouldn't dare show their faces here.

Allerdale has failed. Alexandrina has the Sighs of Kings.

What a boring conclusion.

You know what?

You will do.

You will pay for all that you've done!

Act 4 —————— Finale

Stop, traitor!

Nothing can stop me. You must pay for your crimes.

You will die with me!

The death of the flesh does not daunt me. Countless eyes will bear witness.

Brave children, you will carry the torch.

You will remember my virtues, and take this hard-earned peace into tomorrow.

The end.

That was wonderful, Lady Golding. A great success.

The product of a year of everyone's hard work.

I wish we were in more peaceful times. That way, Heidi could have been here to see it.

It's times like these that we need a play like this.

Look how happy the kids are—

Hey, Leo! Don't run with the props!

Get back here!

Get back here!

Run, run! I'll come for you! Great Victoria will come for you!

Hie over the valleys and over the rivers, rumble-ye-rumble...

Crush them! Squeeze the blood from them!

Die! You'll all die! I'll catch you and kill you!

Squeeze it out!

Surrender, Sarkaz!

Surrender!

Or not, because I'll catch you!

Stop! You're ruining Lady Golding's handmade 'steam armor'!

They...

Don't be angry, Lady Golding. They're just playing a game.

A game...?

Yes. The play has ended.

'Squeeze the blood from them'?

It's... the Sarkaz...

She sees before her eyes the red that filled the bookstore.

She does not even have the strength to vomit.

It's normal.

We're in a war, after all.

The Sarkaz have been arresting people left and right, often in violent ways. The children see them, and emulate their behavior.

Do you know, Molly...?

Many remnants of Gaul harbor fear of the Steam Knights.

Those who were part of the war will never forget the sound of steam gushing outside their window that night.

But I had hoped that the Steam Knights would be more than just a weapon of death to the children.

I had hoped that there would be beautiful hope in their hearts when they play the Steam Knight.

I thought this was a war I could win.

Golding's gaze follows the children.

The foam-made steam armor falls to the ground. She tries to pick it up, but pulls back sharply, as though she's been burned.

I thought I was teaching the children...

Now, I realize that they were the ones teaching me a lesson.

This, here, is the ending. The true ending.

Before the wheels of time...

What we do may be utterly meaningless.

The lessons of the books are distant, blurred.

But no one can avoid being shaped by the times.

If they belong to blood, violence and war...

Then, our children will belong to blood, violence and war.

This is unavoidable.

What... what should I...

How could I dream of fighting it?