YOU - “You're all drunk, look at yourselves!” KORTENAER - “Yes…So what?” ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Yeah. So what. You should be drunk too. Or, like, *drunker*.

ENDURANCE - Failing is weakness and weakness is awful.

HORSEBACK ANTENNA - His imperious gaze leads you naturally to his outstretched hand, which for some reason strikes you as sadly empty… ENDURANCE - He seems ill-equipped for wherever he's going. A king should not go about unarmed.

SHIVERS - A line of motor garages with armoured carapaces, hunched in the cold. A mechanic is hard at work, patching up bullet holes in the side of a Coupris 40. These are the garages of Precinct 41.

YOU - What's above? SHIVERS - More coalition aerostatics. Occasionally, lights flash as they manoeuvre through the falling snow. One large airship carries crates in its belly.

SHIVERS - In the abandoned fish market two figures face each other in a spectacular light-show. One of them is forced to stare into the three empty barrels of a gun. Not an uncommon sight in the neighbourhood.

MAINFRAME - In its short time of existence, Fortress Accident SCA managed to burn through truly *insane* amounts of money. Eventually the damage reached 400,000 reál. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Four-hundred thousand reál?! Jommaijoo, these guys knew how to party!

YOU - “By the way, I've talked to Evrart Claire.” JOYCE MESSIER - “You have?” She smiles, carefully. “And how did you like Mr. Claire?” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Finally -- time to choose SIDES.

SHIVERS - Further inland the streets are alive with workers: men, women, children. Streethawks and migrant labourers. The temperature is steady.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant taps his foot impatiently, his arms folded tight against his chest. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - He's dying for a cigarette. Come to think of it, you are, too.

SHIVERS - To be in Martinaise, where no one goes. At the run-off point of a long-forgotten canal, in the whitest part of town. In the shadow of the day the Revolution failed.

YOU - “I'm ready.” KIM KITSURAGI - “Good. Where do you want to limp to?” SHIVERS - A gust of wind blows in from the bay, the duraluminium box around you vibrates imperceptibly…a familiar cold, a red thread on the roof upstairs. Taut. Plucked like a string by the gust.

YOU - “One more thing -- give a shoutout to Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi. He *coincidentally* has you saved to his radio.” KIM KITSURAGI - “Huh?” ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Look at that! His eyes dilate. That's joy, my man. You wouldn't be able to tell, but his glasses *just* magnify it.

KIM KITSURAGI - “God damn it.” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - OH MY GOD, that was so many types of wrong -- who taught four-eyes to shoot?! Whip up a gruelling training regiment for him RIGHT NOW.

SUGGESTION - Listen, despite his hostile exterior, this one's got a soft underbelly. He's desperate for affirmation…Massage his ego, feed him a few grapes, make him *like* you. HALF LIGHT - DON'T FORGET TO TICKLE THE BEANBAG!

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - They're *laughing* at you. Are you gonna let it stand? Are you, Sally? Or are you gonna CRY LIKE A BEAST?! Like a BEAAAST! YOU - What was that? PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - *DO IT!*

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - 0.4 seconds remain. There are six little black dots in the tip of the barrel, like a honeycomb. This is a *nock cannon*. It shoots six rounds in one pull of the trigger. ENDURANCE - God, you're so frail.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - But it's the origin of all disco, buddy! Why not? HORRIFIC NECKTIE - Come ON, *bratan*! YOU'RE SO CLOSE TO DISCO!

KLAASJE - “I'm sorry. I was being glib.” She pulls on her cigarette. “I'm sure you're a great cop.” ELECTROCHEMISTRY - No, she's not! Reassert yourself by being *flirtatious*.

YOU - “Are you lying?” SCAB LEADER - He squints at you -- a little spark of violence gutters in his eyes. Then he blinks and turns to his men. “We're done here. I have a strike to break.” HALF LIGHT - He's stopping this to control himself. You were on to something.

HALF LIGHT - You *need* to know…things! YOU - But do I really and *why*? HALF LIGHT - Yes, yes, you do. Knowledge is power, bathe in it, empower yourself, trust me.

SHIVERS - A chill comes over you. The wind from the Boulevard South, lashing you -- for trying to separate them. For trying to take the street out of Cuno.

RHETORIC - The West Revacholian industrial base was dismantled after the war. Now, extinguished coke furnaces dot the landscape. A landscape despoiled by industry. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Filth! This needs environmental action -- now!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Sex, alcohol… HALF LIGHT - And violence.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Only a former gym teacher can think these thoughts and drink so much. YOU - Gym teacher?

KLAASJE - “What brought us together wasn't Oranje -- it was bad habits.” ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Sex, alcohol… HALF LIGHT - And violence.

SHIVERS - You feel very cold suddenly. As if standing face to face with a terrifying adversary. Then the feeling dissipates and all you see is an aging woman.

PAIN THRESHOLD - You know the answer, don't think -- just say it! YOU - “Dad?!” PAIN THRESHOLD - No, not that one. RENÉ ARNOUX - “Wh…?”

HALF LIGHT - A sudden pang of rage. THE DESERTER - “If you came ten years ago, I would have killed you.”

JULES PIDIEU - “Sergeant Torson wants to know if you lost your gun too. Over.” HALF LIGHT - Oh fuck…

YOU - Open the bottle. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - There's a satisfying pop as the cap comes off, and the hair on your back rises like an army at attention. You've been here before.

YOU - “Hey, are you really Cuno's father?” CUNO'S DAD - The light from the window is weak, but it seems like he is. His wild, unwashed mane bears a familiar ginger tone. HALF LIGHT - There's still plenty to be scared of here. Just not what you thought.

YOU - “Keith.” MEGA RICH LIGHT-BENDING GUY - “Keith,” he repeats. HALF LIGHT - Sweat pools up in your clavicles, a rancid smell of *fear*.

ENDURANCE - You've given him a panic attack. He's ill-equipped to deal with it.

PAIN THRESHOLD - It feels like your ribs are cracking around your heart.

SHIVERS - The ruin in front of you is silent as a tomb.

SHIVERS - A cold wind whips at the canvas. From far below, the sounds of waves smashing themselves against the rocks. You are exposed.

RUBY, THE INSTIGATOR - “I bet they're just outside, waiting.” She looks into the tunnel behind you. “I guess I'll take my chances.” ENDURANCE - She'll go out in a hail of bullets if she has to.

JOYCE MESSIER - “Everyone finds something worth holding onto in this world -- however wasted its opportunities.” SHIVERS - The cold seeps into you. The air is heavy with 80% humidity.

PARANORMAL BOOKS - It recommends vigorously swatting one's naked body with a venik, or hand broom. PAIN THRESHOLD - Even better if you can find someone else, preferably a large man in nothing but a towel, to thrash you while you're spread naked and helpless on a cool slab.

YOU - I don't know, I think he may be onto something. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - What's next? A raw food diet? You're a disappointment.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Feel that smooth texture, savour that flavour. How it flows down your gullet, like a warm caress. *That's* the sunset.

SHIVERS - You shudder, looking down at your feet. Dirty rainwater runs veins into the plaza snow. SHIVERS - You realize you still have only one shoe. Nearby, on the balcony of the Whirling-in-Rags hostel-cafeteria, a single crocodile-skin shoe now fills with rainwater.

CALL ME MAÑANA - He offers you his flask. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - The idea of alcoholic swill sloshing around in your bloodstream feels fairly unappealing. YOU - “Thanks, I'll pass. I'd just go wild.” CALL ME MAÑANA - “And then we might go wild together, which sounds fun.”

VISUAL CALCULUS - Have you noticed how much taller he is than you? ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Better looking too.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Some strange glandular process takes place in him at the thought. Like yeast rising…

YOU - Where is Ruby? SHIVERS - Near. Snow falls into dark water. She prays, though she doesn't believe. There is a hum in the air.

LIMBIC SYSTEM - Just *imagine* the moves you could pull to this futuristic beat! PAIN THRESHOLD - Your aching leg doesn't want you to imagine *anything*, however. It just wants to lie down and rest.

REACTION SPEED - A volcano of burning pain erupts from your left shoulder. PAIN THRESHOLD - The pain flows over your entire body like an awful shock. A grim knowing rises from within -- half of your body must be gone.

YOU - “What does this mean? A generator here?” KIM KITSURAGI - “I don't know. I am not a philosopher.” YOU - “I am. This generator proves the universe is material…” (Kick the generator.) PAIN THRESHOLD - A small agony -- but it proves the point.