EDDIE DIPPE, ABRAXASGRIP
DESCRIPTION
Secily remembers a story about her ancestor, The Commandant, that she was told as a child.
SCRIPT
PAGE 1
Open with Secily standing above a body on the ground, facing away, silhouette framed by the nighttime cityscape beyond and below her.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
The stronghold boils beneath your feet.
PAGE 2
We see over her shoulder. She’s cleaning yellow blood off Proserpina, clearly deep in thought.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
You preside over this fragile facade of civilized life. Over the stragglers below, drifting from one party to the next.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
You protect them from a world that wants nothing more than to shatter this city of glass, to melt its steel into blades and take it back to darker days.
PAGE 3
She steps up to the edge to glance out at her charges, and a gust billows up her cloak.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
Someone once asked you what the point of carrying this sword is, when a gun does the job just fine.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
There’s plenty of reasons. The versatility of the tool should speak for itself.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
What you didn’t tell them is it’s a reminder. A relic.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
A weapon of days the world has moved past.
Secily looks up from the blade, and out over the city.
PAGE 4
Cut to young Secily, no more than 5 sweeps old, dwarfed by the leather chair she sits in, across from The Executive, in a study dimly lit by an electric lamp positioned on a side table to her right, his left. She’s sitting as straight as she can, with both arms on the armrests, legs just short of reaching the floor. There’s a chess board between them, and they move pieces as they talk. Clarud is holding Proserpina, looking at the blade, not her.
THE EXECUTIVE
You must understand, no matter what you hear- and I do imagine you’ll hear quite a lot:
THE EXECUTIVE
Your ancestor did the best he could. He did what was asked of him, what was required.
PAGE 5
He leans Proserpina against the table and moves a piece on the board. It’s late in the game, and Clarud is visibly winning. Secily thinks for a second and makes a move in return. It’s a good move for the position she’s in, but there’s little she could do to win at this point. Clarud is impressed but the reaction is subdued, it’s clear that he could have won a while ago, and is only testing her at this point. He looks directly at her for the first time, one hand on Proserpina’s hilt.
THE EXECUTIVE
You should bear his legacy with dignity.
Secily scrunches up her face, deep in thought. She makes her next move nervously before speaking.
SECILY
I just don’t understand why you’re telling me all this.
SECILY
I don’t even know WHAT I’d have to be ashamed of to begin with. Much less what you want me to be proud of.
THE EXECUTIVE
There’s too much context for such a young mind to bear lightly.
PAGE 6
Secily crosses her arms, frustrated, and slumps back in the chair for a second.
SECILY
Tell me.
SECILY
I need to decide for myself.
Clarud sighs and leans back, propping his head in one of his hands.
THE EXECUTIVE
You’re awfully demanding for a child.
THE EXECUTIVE
There’s a story from my boyhood, one I’d be hard pressed to forget.
THE EXECUTIVE
I’ll relay it if you insist so thoroughly, but you must listen closely.
PAGE 7
Cut to Arcamu, mounted on his hummingbird griffin lusus, silhouetted to resemble Secily on her motorbike. Behind him is a field of tulips, and he rides on a paved stone road.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
So the tale as old as time goes:
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
On gleaming paths carved through great fields of tulips, a charming young knight pursued a most dangerous quarry.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
As a justicar of Caesar, entrusted with the power of life over death, he sought to terminate a terrible plot that plagued the land.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
On the back of a resplendent steed, he rode for days to a stronghold in the plains.
PAGE 8
Arcamu talks to laborers in a field, and men in the streets of a stronghold. only a few pay him heed while most continue their work.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
“You must tell me” he begged the peasants in the fields and the men of the city, “your safety depends on it” but they knew little; and told far less.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
After all, they thought, what gain had they from aiding one so thoroughly tethered to he who ruled over their lives with an iron grip?
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
But the brave knight understood, far better than they, the danger such treason could pose to the fragile peace he had spilled so much blood to instate.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
He would have to persist in this place: he would have to investigate.
PAGE 9
We see different scenes of Arcamu in parts of the city, buying things at a stand, talking at a bar, etc.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
The young justicar waited for blinks, observing the townsfolk as they moved through its streets.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
He mingled with them, purchased their produce, learned their names, listened to their woes.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
The harvest was weak, much weaker than sweeps before.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
Times were hard, and hard times produced desperate men.
PAGE 10
Arcamu is walking down a street, before being attacked from behind by a heavily armored troll, the only visible parts are a pair of deer antler shaped horns poking out through holes in a helmet. He wields a two handed sword, clumsily.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
So desperate were they that one bright morning, walking along the streets of the city, the young knight was assailed without warning.
Arcamu dodges the first couple blows in time to draw his sword, parrying and going in for a final thrust.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
A veteran of a hundred battles, the knight finished the fight in an instant, with a single thrust through a thin gap in the breastplate.
PAGE 11
Arcamu stands before a slumped body, yellow blood off his sword, looking down at the corpse.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
And as gilded blood pooled on the stones below, the juscitar made 1 observation of this attempted killer:
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
That in life he had been comfortable. Well fed and warm, unlike the many who grouped around him now to behold the spectacle.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
And with this revelation he understood at last:
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
These poor folk hadn’t surrendered the apostate because he was never among their number.
PAGE 12
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
The foul heart of the treason he had searched for was, from the start, the lord of this stronghold itself.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
No upstart rebel: a noble of high birth, a man of midnight blood, a better who should know as such.
Arcamu rides through the night past the same fields as before, now empty with a change of the seasons.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
To the keep of this grim lord he rode in the dead of night, under a moonless sky that afforded little light to flowerless fields.
PAGE 13
He stands before a tall castle, black and imposing, with winding spires. Arcamu sits below its walls, before a bridge leading into the keep, mounted on his lusus.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
And in the cold grasses before the castle he stopped, calling out with words echoing over ancient stone:
ARCAMU
Come out ye snake, and face the justice you know awaits.
PAGE 14
A massive indigo (midnight) blooded troll emerges from the keep, ornately dressed. He stands on the walls above.
THE APOSTATE
If the blade of law falls you know well it is your lord who should bear the cut, not myself.
THE APOSTATE
I speak against our liege- yes- but I speak only the truth.
THE APOSTATE
Where Caesar makes a desert, he calls it civilization.
THE APOSTATE
Where will it end?
ARCAMU
Are you quite finished?
PAGE 15
ARCAMU
I care little for your words, heretic. Your justification bears out poorly.
THE APOSTATE
Do you not bear loyalty first to the people of this land? Does their suffering move you so little?
ARCAMU
I bear loyalty first to my lord, Augustus of the waves and hills.
ARCAMU
And as the foremost Justicar of his law I find you quite guilty indeed of the highest treason.
ARCAMU
For such slights to the name of my lord I would end your wretched life in an instant were it tenable by law.
PAGE 16
Arcamu, mounted on his lusus, flies up to talk to the Apostate at his own level, from battlements to griffinback. He produces and presents a lengthy scroll from the saddlebags.
ARCAMU
As a man you are nothing, wretched vermin writhing in waste, but the codes of chivalry and your station of birth demand I offer you an honest duel.
ARCAMU
Make the most of it.
PAGE 17
The Apostate signs the scroll with a magnificent quill.
THE APOSTATE
The law I obey hangs above your liege, wretch.
THE APOSTATE
In striking down the most loyal of his men I will prove beyond doubt the honor of my word lies truer than yours.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
The stakes were high, as each understood, but the knight had little to fear:
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
He had never lost a duel, and had no intention of tarnishing that record.
PAGE 18
The two men meet on the bridge below, standing ready for a duel. The Apostate wears dark armor, similar but more ornate than that of the previous attacker, and bears a tremendous axe. Arcamu, of course, wields Proserpina.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
And on the ancient stone bridge before the keep they met for battle, a duel of fates, a legendary encounter...
The story stops at this last scene, two men facing off in the most dramatic framing imaginable.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
My, I really let time get away from me.
PAGE 19
With a cut back to the study. It’s darker in the room, Secily has her legs up on the chair, with her face resting on her knees and her arms wrapped around them.
THE EXECUTIVE
I’m afraid this goes on for more time than we have left. The old storytellers were terribly in love with stretching these scenes out.
Clarud stands up and walks past Secily’s chair, gesturing for her to follow, without looking. He carries Proserpina with him.
THE EXECUTIVE
A growing child like yourself needs all the rest they can get.
THE EXECUTIVE
Let’s see if we can’t go find your lus-
SECILY
Mr. Executive?
THE EXECUTIVE
Hm?
PAGE 20
SECILY
My ancestor. He killed that man, right?
He turns back to look her in the eyes. She’s barely moved her face up from her knees, and isn’t returning the eye contact.
THE EXECUTIVE
Well I’d hate to spoil such a lovely tale.
THE EXECUTIVE
But yes, he did.
SECILY
And a bunch of other people too?
THE EXECUTIVE
Yes. I’m afraid killing “a bunch of people” is what most know him for.
SECILY
But for what?
PAGE 21
Clarud sighs, and considers the question for a moment.
THE EXECUTIVE
I’ve spent more sweeps than you have in you asking myself that question.
THE EXECUTIVE
But I’m more interested in knowing this: why do you think?
Secily looks back down, burying her face in her knees and arms again, and looks around the room before continuing.
SECILY
...
SECILY
It mostly seems like he did it for a whole lot of nonsense.
SECILY
For a whole bunch of fancy words that don’t really matter anymore.
PAGE 22
SECILY
Why’d he risk his life at all? He could have just gotten him then and there. He even said so.
SECILY
With that big bird thing he probably could’ve just picked him up and dropped him.
THE EXECUTIVE
That wasn’t the law.
SECILY
But he was guilty.
PAGE 23
THE EXECUTIVE
Guilty of my laws, yes. And were he one of my regulators such action may have been necessary.
THE EXECUTIVE
But he wasn't. He was a juscitar of Caesar. The Juscitar of Caesar.
THE EXECUTIVE
And the law Caesar built favored men like that evil lord.
THE EXECUTIVE
This, young Iopara, is the cause for this conversation.
PAGE 24
He leans down to present the sword to her with both hands. She studies the blade.
THE EXECUTIVE
You must understand that no matter what you’re told, no matter how those around you react to your lineage:
THE EXECUTIVE
Arcamu Iopara was a man of his time. He kept the order of his time, above all else.
THE EXECUTIVE
How you bear that legacy forward is in your hands.
She looks as conflicted as ever as she wraps one hand around the hilt.
PAGE 25
SECILY (INTERNAL)
It’s hard, still, to process your relationship to this man who died long before your time.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
He was loyal to his time, yes, but that’s not much of an excuse to you.
Her grip on Proserpina tightens and she begins pacing back and forth along the rooftop.
PAGE 26
SECILY (INTERNAL)
You’ve grown beyond the logic of fairy tales, of dying men with rose tinted illusions haunting their faintest memories.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
You see the world with clear eyes. With a rational perspective.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
You don’t fight for the honor of a royal tyrant, some petty seadweller lord.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
The cold streets below and the criminals who stalk them for prey have no room for chivalry. They’re driven by baser impulses.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
So you must be as well, driven by the basic impulse to protect, to maintain this broken garden.
PAGE 27
She sheathes Proserpina, and pivots to walk away from the ledge of the building.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
It’s a cold world, and it’s your job to dwell in that frigid darkness, to root out the corruption that undermines what little you all have left.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
As long as you’re around, this city will never fall back into the shadows of history.
PAGE 28
Secily smiles smugly to herself.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
So no matter how hard this job gets, no matter the things you’ve seen, you know this:
SECILY (INTERNAL)
You’re better than he was.
Open with Secily standing above a body on the ground, facing away, silhouette framed by the nighttime cityscape beyond and below her.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
The stronghold boils beneath your feet.
PAGE 2
We see over her shoulder. She’s cleaning yellow blood off Proserpina, clearly deep in thought.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
You preside over this fragile facade of civilized life. Over the stragglers below, drifting from one party to the next.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
You protect them from a world that wants nothing more than to shatter this city of glass, to melt its steel into blades and take it back to darker days.
PAGE 3
She steps up to the edge to glance out at her charges, and a gust billows up her cloak.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
Someone once asked you what the point of carrying this sword is, when a gun does the job just fine.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
There’s plenty of reasons. The versatility of the tool should speak for itself.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
What you didn’t tell them is it’s a reminder. A relic.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
A weapon of days the world has moved past.
Secily looks up from the blade, and out over the city.
PAGE 4
Cut to young Secily, no more than 5 sweeps old, dwarfed by the leather chair she sits in, across from The Executive, in a study dimly lit by an electric lamp positioned on a side table to her right, his left. She’s sitting as straight as she can, with both arms on the armrests, legs just short of reaching the floor. There’s a chess board between them, and they move pieces as they talk. Clarud is holding Proserpina, looking at the blade, not her.
THE EXECUTIVE
You must understand, no matter what you hear- and I do imagine you’ll hear quite a lot:
THE EXECUTIVE
Your ancestor did the best he could. He did what was asked of him, what was required.
PAGE 5
He leans Proserpina against the table and moves a piece on the board. It’s late in the game, and Clarud is visibly winning. Secily thinks for a second and makes a move in return. It’s a good move for the position she’s in, but there’s little she could do to win at this point. Clarud is impressed but the reaction is subdued, it’s clear that he could have won a while ago, and is only testing her at this point. He looks directly at her for the first time, one hand on Proserpina’s hilt.
THE EXECUTIVE
You should bear his legacy with dignity.
Secily scrunches up her face, deep in thought. She makes her next move nervously before speaking.
SECILY
I just don’t understand why you’re telling me all this.
SECILY
I don’t even know WHAT I’d have to be ashamed of to begin with. Much less what you want me to be proud of.
THE EXECUTIVE
There’s too much context for such a young mind to bear lightly.
PAGE 6
Secily crosses her arms, frustrated, and slumps back in the chair for a second.
SECILY
Tell me.
SECILY
I need to decide for myself.
Clarud sighs and leans back, propping his head in one of his hands.
THE EXECUTIVE
You’re awfully demanding for a child.
THE EXECUTIVE
There’s a story from my boyhood, one I’d be hard pressed to forget.
THE EXECUTIVE
I’ll relay it if you insist so thoroughly, but you must listen closely.
PAGE 7
Cut to Arcamu, mounted on his hummingbird griffin lusus, silhouetted to resemble Secily on her motorbike. Behind him is a field of tulips, and he rides on a paved stone road.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
So the tale as old as time goes:
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
On gleaming paths carved through great fields of tulips, a charming young knight pursued a most dangerous quarry.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
As a justicar of Caesar, entrusted with the power of life over death, he sought to terminate a terrible plot that plagued the land.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
On the back of a resplendent steed, he rode for days to a stronghold in the plains.
PAGE 8
Arcamu talks to laborers in a field, and men in the streets of a stronghold. only a few pay him heed while most continue their work.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
“You must tell me” he begged the peasants in the fields and the men of the city, “your safety depends on it” but they knew little; and told far less.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
After all, they thought, what gain had they from aiding one so thoroughly tethered to he who ruled over their lives with an iron grip?
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
But the brave knight understood, far better than they, the danger such treason could pose to the fragile peace he had spilled so much blood to instate.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
He would have to persist in this place: he would have to investigate.
PAGE 9
We see different scenes of Arcamu in parts of the city, buying things at a stand, talking at a bar, etc.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
The young justicar waited for blinks, observing the townsfolk as they moved through its streets.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
He mingled with them, purchased their produce, learned their names, listened to their woes.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
The harvest was weak, much weaker than sweeps before.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
Times were hard, and hard times produced desperate men.
PAGE 10
Arcamu is walking down a street, before being attacked from behind by a heavily armored troll, the only visible parts are a pair of deer antler shaped horns poking out through holes in a helmet. He wields a two handed sword, clumsily.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
So desperate were they that one bright morning, walking along the streets of the city, the young knight was assailed without warning.
Arcamu dodges the first couple blows in time to draw his sword, parrying and going in for a final thrust.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
A veteran of a hundred battles, the knight finished the fight in an instant, with a single thrust through a thin gap in the breastplate.
PAGE 11
Arcamu stands before a slumped body, yellow blood off his sword, looking down at the corpse.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
And as gilded blood pooled on the stones below, the juscitar made 1 observation of this attempted killer:
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
That in life he had been comfortable. Well fed and warm, unlike the many who grouped around him now to behold the spectacle.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
And with this revelation he understood at last:
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
These poor folk hadn’t surrendered the apostate because he was never among their number.
PAGE 12
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
The foul heart of the treason he had searched for was, from the start, the lord of this stronghold itself.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
No upstart rebel: a noble of high birth, a man of midnight blood, a better who should know as such.
Arcamu rides through the night past the same fields as before, now empty with a change of the seasons.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
To the keep of this grim lord he rode in the dead of night, under a moonless sky that afforded little light to flowerless fields.
PAGE 13
He stands before a tall castle, black and imposing, with winding spires. Arcamu sits below its walls, before a bridge leading into the keep, mounted on his lusus.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
And in the cold grasses before the castle he stopped, calling out with words echoing over ancient stone:
ARCAMU
Come out ye snake, and face the justice you know awaits.
PAGE 14
A massive indigo (midnight) blooded troll emerges from the keep, ornately dressed. He stands on the walls above.
THE APOSTATE
If the blade of law falls you know well it is your lord who should bear the cut, not myself.
THE APOSTATE
I speak against our liege- yes- but I speak only the truth.
THE APOSTATE
Where Caesar makes a desert, he calls it civilization.
THE APOSTATE
Where will it end?
ARCAMU
Are you quite finished?
PAGE 15
ARCAMU
I care little for your words, heretic. Your justification bears out poorly.
THE APOSTATE
Do you not bear loyalty first to the people of this land? Does their suffering move you so little?
ARCAMU
I bear loyalty first to my lord, Augustus of the waves and hills.
ARCAMU
And as the foremost Justicar of his law I find you quite guilty indeed of the highest treason.
ARCAMU
For such slights to the name of my lord I would end your wretched life in an instant were it tenable by law.
PAGE 16
Arcamu, mounted on his lusus, flies up to talk to the Apostate at his own level, from battlements to griffinback. He produces and presents a lengthy scroll from the saddlebags.
ARCAMU
As a man you are nothing, wretched vermin writhing in waste, but the codes of chivalry and your station of birth demand I offer you an honest duel.
ARCAMU
Make the most of it.
PAGE 17
The Apostate signs the scroll with a magnificent quill.
THE APOSTATE
The law I obey hangs above your liege, wretch.
THE APOSTATE
In striking down the most loyal of his men I will prove beyond doubt the honor of my word lies truer than yours.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
The stakes were high, as each understood, but the knight had little to fear:
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
He had never lost a duel, and had no intention of tarnishing that record.
PAGE 18
The two men meet on the bridge below, standing ready for a duel. The Apostate wears dark armor, similar but more ornate than that of the previous attacker, and bears a tremendous axe. Arcamu, of course, wields Proserpina.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
And on the ancient stone bridge before the keep they met for battle, a duel of fates, a legendary encounter...
The story stops at this last scene, two men facing off in the most dramatic framing imaginable.
THE EXECUTIVE (OS)
My, I really let time get away from me.
PAGE 19
With a cut back to the study. It’s darker in the room, Secily has her legs up on the chair, with her face resting on her knees and her arms wrapped around them.
THE EXECUTIVE
I’m afraid this goes on for more time than we have left. The old storytellers were terribly in love with stretching these scenes out.
Clarud stands up and walks past Secily’s chair, gesturing for her to follow, without looking. He carries Proserpina with him.
THE EXECUTIVE
A growing child like yourself needs all the rest they can get.
THE EXECUTIVE
Let’s see if we can’t go find your lus-
SECILY
Mr. Executive?
THE EXECUTIVE
Hm?
PAGE 20
SECILY
My ancestor. He killed that man, right?
He turns back to look her in the eyes. She’s barely moved her face up from her knees, and isn’t returning the eye contact.
THE EXECUTIVE
Well I’d hate to spoil such a lovely tale.
THE EXECUTIVE
But yes, he did.
SECILY
And a bunch of other people too?
THE EXECUTIVE
Yes. I’m afraid killing “a bunch of people” is what most know him for.
SECILY
But for what?
PAGE 21
Clarud sighs, and considers the question for a moment.
THE EXECUTIVE
I’ve spent more sweeps than you have in you asking myself that question.
THE EXECUTIVE
But I’m more interested in knowing this: why do you think?
Secily looks back down, burying her face in her knees and arms again, and looks around the room before continuing.
SECILY
...
SECILY
It mostly seems like he did it for a whole lot of nonsense.
SECILY
For a whole bunch of fancy words that don’t really matter anymore.
PAGE 22
SECILY
Why’d he risk his life at all? He could have just gotten him then and there. He even said so.
SECILY
With that big bird thing he probably could’ve just picked him up and dropped him.
THE EXECUTIVE
That wasn’t the law.
SECILY
But he was guilty.
PAGE 23
THE EXECUTIVE
Guilty of my laws, yes. And were he one of my regulators such action may have been necessary.
THE EXECUTIVE
But he wasn't. He was a juscitar of Caesar. The Juscitar of Caesar.
THE EXECUTIVE
And the law Caesar built favored men like that evil lord.
THE EXECUTIVE
This, young Iopara, is the cause for this conversation.
PAGE 24
He leans down to present the sword to her with both hands. She studies the blade.
THE EXECUTIVE
You must understand that no matter what you’re told, no matter how those around you react to your lineage:
THE EXECUTIVE
Arcamu Iopara was a man of his time. He kept the order of his time, above all else.
THE EXECUTIVE
How you bear that legacy forward is in your hands.
She looks as conflicted as ever as she wraps one hand around the hilt.
PAGE 25
SECILY (INTERNAL)
It’s hard, still, to process your relationship to this man who died long before your time.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
He was loyal to his time, yes, but that’s not much of an excuse to you.
Her grip on Proserpina tightens and she begins pacing back and forth along the rooftop.
PAGE 26
SECILY (INTERNAL)
You’ve grown beyond the logic of fairy tales, of dying men with rose tinted illusions haunting their faintest memories.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
You see the world with clear eyes. With a rational perspective.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
You don’t fight for the honor of a royal tyrant, some petty seadweller lord.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
The cold streets below and the criminals who stalk them for prey have no room for chivalry. They’re driven by baser impulses.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
So you must be as well, driven by the basic impulse to protect, to maintain this broken garden.
PAGE 27
She sheathes Proserpina, and pivots to walk away from the ledge of the building.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
It’s a cold world, and it’s your job to dwell in that frigid darkness, to root out the corruption that undermines what little you all have left.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
As long as you’re around, this city will never fall back into the shadows of history.
PAGE 28
Secily smiles smugly to herself.
SECILY (INTERNAL)
So no matter how hard this job gets, no matter the things you’ve seen, you know this:
SECILY (INTERNAL)
You’re better than he was.
CONCEPT ART
