With the Games now on Boreas's dying moon, Seer takes heat on all sides. As a child once cursed, he can handle it, but he isn't prepared when the fire spreads to those around him.
As we step off the ship onto Boreas, I tip my hat down to shield myself from the cries of the crowd. Not all are from fans. Some are from...
...protestors.
They are here for me, I know, but fences line our path from the ship to the Syndicate building, keeping them from swarming us.
"Oh yeah, I hear you, amigos. The Octrain was on FIRE!"
Octavio makes a ridiculous spectacle next to me as usual. Catalyst, the third on our squad, strides ahead of us both.
She spoke barely ten words to me during the match. She blames me for the loss of her home.
My mother-nne m always told me an honest discussion can open one's heart. I believe it is true. But despite my best efforts, Catalyst refuses to have a conversation with me.
I pause at the thought of the nne and glance down at my quiet phone.
"Why do you keep looking at your phone, compadre? You finally getting on stream with the coold kids?"
He peers over my shoulder, invading my personal space faster than I can comprehend. I shake him off.
"My mother was supposed to call me. She always calls before and after a match."
"Uh... Why?"
"It is how she shows she cares. Surely your father calls you."
"Octane: "Hah, no way! His crusty secretary mabe, and it's ALWAYS for some boring photo-op."
Something hard hits my hat and half-finished drink splatters against my wrist, sending my phone flying.
I avoid a can that nearly hits my shoulder-another gift from the crowd. I suppose it is better than the rocks the other children used to throw at me as a child
"Hey, stop that."
Catalyst steps in, shielding me from fruther assault. One protestor pauses, mid-throw.
Protestor: "Why are you defending him? He's a sell-out."
"Hurting him doesn't help anyone, now does it?"
Perhaps...she is not as closed off as I had thought...
The protestor responds by lowering his arm. He settles for a glare at me.
Protestor: "I hope you rot."
Catalyst heads into the Syndicate building to collect her share of today's winnings and I follow after her, catching her as the doors close behind us.
"Thank you. Not many here have done me such as kindness-"
"Don't mistake me for a friend. Nothing's changed. Before you brought the Games here, I had a life on Cleo. So did all my friends. We have every reason to be angry."
"Y-yes, I understand that. Iwanted to apologize for-for everything..."
"You think it's that easy, do you? That you can just apologize for 'everything' and people will forgive you?"
"Please, allow me to explain, at least. My intentions were pure, I assure you. Mr. Silva agreed that the new stage for the Apex Games would be on Boreas."
"I fight in the Games. I know how destructive they can be. I would never have brought them to your broken moon. That was his doing."
"You can forgiveness? You can't even take responsibility for your own actions."
"I do not lie. Duardo Silva-"
"Let's look at what you HAVE done. This was YOUR idea. YOUR campaign. We all saw you doing everything you could to bring the Games here."
"And that's somehow not your fault?"
"If things had gone as I had requested-"
"Things are how they are. You wanna know what your campaign actaully accomplished?"
"It tore us from our jobs. It destroyed our community. It forced us back to a place that doesn't allow us to be ourselves."
"I'm here to fix that, to actually support my community in the aftermath."
"If... If you feel that way, why did you help me just now?"
"Because violence won't change anything. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to see some friends."
She walks away and I can only watch her go.
"..."
"..."
"Dude, your madre's a weird lady. 'I love you' this, 'I love you' that-what kind of sappy, boring text messages are these?"
I notice Octane beside me again. He has retrieved my phone and is snooping through it. I snatch it away from him.
"It is rude to invade the privacy of others. And she calls to show her love and support. I fail to see how that is 'weird.'"
"But no calls today! So... that means she hates you now?"
"Of course not. This is very unusual. I should go home-make sure everything is well."
"You SURE she doesn't hate you? Welcome to the club, amigo."
He shrugs, but comes with me to collect our winnings and we slip out the building's back door to avoid the crowds.
The streets outside are otherwise well-kept and mostly barren, the citizens of Boreas well into their workday to maintain the planet. It is a fine-tuned machines.
Despite the empty streets, I find myself turning down the backroads. Old habits, I suppose, born of a familiar anxiety...
Beside me, Octane twitches restlessly and makes no attempt to restrain his complaints about my pace, though it is a brisk one. Still, he follows me all the weay to childhood home.
I open the door to an eerie silence.
"Nne? Nna?"
"Uh, I don't think they're here, compadres."
He gestures toward the living room. My heart stops at what I see.
A sea of glass drowns the floor. And attack. A violation.
"Mother! Father!"
There is no response but the wind, howling throught the wound in my home.
The windows have been shattered, bookshelves toppled, photographs disgraced…
But no sign of my parents.
I search through the den… and find messages of hate. Weeks worth.
Directed at my parents. Blaming them for me, for my part in bringing the Games here… for my curse.
The curse.
… How long have my parents been suffering?
"Looks like something wend down, amigo."
"Your detective skills are legendary."
"Thanks! This one time I found a staash of secrets behind a portrait in Pop's study and-"
"That was sarcasm. Being paired with you, perhaps I am indeed cursed?"
"Observation número dos: Blood."
"Around the window frames, yes. This is blood from breaking in, not from combat."
"Unusual… Father build ways to protect the family, and few could move with the grace of Mother… If they were attacked, they would have fought."
"Okay, so no fight, maybe your folks went on a high stakes vacation-"
"Enough. It is your father I must speak to."
"You think he's taken them?! No, when goin' against Pop, he NEEDS you to know he beat you. Trust me. If he took your folks, he'd be bragging."
"Your father has twisted every deal and gone back on every word he has spoken to me. His lies have sparked a fire that burns Boreas and Cleo…"
"He may not have taken my parents, but he is responsible for their suffering."
"Duardo Silva WILL find my parents… and will find them unharmed."
"To the average Outlands denizen, he can be a hard man to get a hold of. But to his son…"
"You wanna go mano a mano with Pops? Yeah, I'd watch that."
"I'll give the old man a call."
"Well look at us teaming up, amigo!"
"Once rivals, now forced to work together for a greater-COOLER! -good-!"
"Oh no, please-"
"OBI AND OCTI RIDE AGAIN!!!"
"You must stop immediately-"
"You prefer 'Socktane'? Tha's Seer plus Octa-"
"Where is your father?!! My parents can wait no longer."
His father does answer, and I am surprised that Duardo sends for us. It is a sinister limousine, available only to the Outlands' most wealthy… and devious of creatures.
There was a time Octavio would never bask in his family's affluence… yet little by little, the boy becomes ensnared by his father.
We land in front of a memorial site on Cleo. The Syndicate Corps are packing up drilling equipment - they've found whatever they're looking for.
Troubling. Particularly as the Crops were once a beacon of safety and hope for all the Outlands, and now are little more than Duardo's personal guard.
"Okay, this… is new. Guess I oughta read those morning brief- things his secretary sends me, huh?"
"Your family dysfunction means little to me. I care only for answers."
Duardo: "Mr. Edolasim! So wonderfull to see you, my boy."
For and old man with a cane, Duardo's movements are profoundly subtle. There are few who can sneak up on me.
Duardo: I would be delighted to answer any questions you might have."
"No questions. Only a demand:"
"Find my parents."
Duardo: "Your parents… of course, of course my boy."
Duardo nods slightly to one of his Syndicate Corps goons… and they move away with purpose.
Duardo: "Please, find Mr. Edolasim's parents. We're all terribly worried."
"Do no pretend to care."
Duardo: "One moment, my boy. You must trust me."
"Trust you?"
"I came to you for help, but receive only harm. The people blame me, and take their rage out on my family."
Duardo: "Ah."
Duardo: "So you've come all this way to express a lack of gratitude."
"Gratitude-"
Duardo: "You forget, my boy- Boreas and Cleo are symbiotic. Cleo is forgotten. Yet with my involvement, it receives media attention, and significant resources."
"Your schemes ignore Boreas' plight-"
Duardo: "Incorrect. Once Cleo stops deteriorating, Boreas' destructive seismic events will end. Both worlds saved… thanks to our fine works."
"Aren't you getting exactly what you wanted, Mr. Edolasim?"
Octane leans back casually, enjoying this far too much… 'Soctane'. Absolutely not.
"Our deal had the Games come to Boreas, not Cleo. Cleo is too fragile- many will suffer!"
Duardo: "If some minor discomfort is what it takes to save the moon, that is acceptable. What is it you say?"
Duardo: "'Encourage others to see the beauty around us… even in destruction'?"
"…"
"You do not know me as well as you think. I see the heart of all matters, and in you?"
"I see none."
Duardo: "It doesn't take a heart to save a world, Mr Edolasim. It takes will. If a little interview and a few rabble rousers are enough to rattle you, perhaps what you lack… is a backbone."
"It is not just 'rabble rousers'- it is a storm! A RIOT! One that took MY FAMILY!"
Duardo: "And so the boy has a spine after all. Wonderful! Ah- and look, right on time."
A dark floating limousine descends upon us, idling. It would seem the Syndicate Corps soldier Duardo earlier sent away has returned. Its doors open and…
My parents are not inside.
"Careful, old man. I have no patience for your-"
Duardo indicates I get in. I could not trust him less.
Duardo: "Beware your tone. You just so happen to be talking to the man…"
Duardo: "… who knows EXACTLY where to find your parents."
The limousine ride with Duardo was the strangest ride I may ever take. Elegant, decadent, all while I am at my wit's end.
Duardo told me in the car that he had my parents moved to a safehouse for their protection. I feel little comfort in this-A favor from Duardo always seems to have a catch.
He stays in the car, but I, in a flurry, race into the building.
"I am so relived you are okay. When I saw the damage at home-"
Oluwademilade: "We are fine. Sit. Breathe. Ego, I think our boy needs something warm to calm his nerves."
I sit, processing it all, as Mother pours me some tea.
They look comfortable in this strange home that lacks warmth, personality, their essence of richness. I has only the bare essentials-it is a utility, clearly nothing more than a tool to harbor people in need of sanctuary.
Why did I ever get into business with a man who has a safehouse ready at a moment's notice?
"When you did not call, I was sure something horrible happened."
"People being angry with me or Mr. Silva is one thing. But being angry with you two, for this? You are not involved!"
Egobunma: "My boy, have I taught you anything? When a creature is backed into a corner, it will bite. These people feel cornered, but we must not let our emotions overtake us and cause us to act rashly."
Oluwademilade: "Yes. This is not the first time, and it likely will not be the last. We will not bend to such threats."
Their wisdom and resilience never ceases to dazzle me.
"If only the people of Boreas could see that this was all to help them."
"I wish they were not so quick to react. It would have been great if not for Duardo's interference."
Egobunma: "I suppose..."
"..."
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Oluwademilade: "It is just... Bringing the Games to Boreas..."
Egobunma: "You always go for the largest idea possible - and we love that about you. We think there were simpler things you could have done to help individuals first."
"The planet is dying. The moon is falling apart. My art can only take us so far. Someone had to do something... something tangible."
Oluwademilade: "Of course. We know your heart is pure. We only think that under the pressure of the interview, YOU made a rash decision. That is all"
"So, what? You also think I was wrong?"
Egobunma: "It is just that Cleo had become so unstable. How much more can it handle? And if it gets worse, Boreas..."
Oluwademilade: "Boreas will be underwater."
Egobunma: "There is more to do, more everyone could do. LIke that reporter said, we can help rebuild communities, join the Cleo Recovery Council, send food-"
That reporter is awful."
Oluwademilade: "Oh, we know."
Oluwademilade: "She is wrong to imply you caused this problem, or that you alone can fix everything. No one can. Hevertheless, you have many talents, my son. You should take a moment to see if there are other ways of doing things."
"This WAS my way. I fight in the Games, so I could bring the Games to Boreas. Duardo brought them to Cleo. Perhaps it WILL eventually do good for Boreas and the moon-"
Oluwademilade: "-If the moon survives it."
Egobunma: "Demi, Obi, please."
I cannot believe what I am hearing. From my own flesh and blood.
My face goes hot. I suddenly feel as if my last bit of stable ground is crumbling below me.
"So the destruction of the moon is my fault? If not as a baby, then as an adult?"
"I was trying-I am ALWAYS trying-to do the right thing. To help everyone on Boreas. And my own parents are not on my side?"
Egobunma: "That is not what I was saying, my rose."
Oluwademilade: "Obi, you are playing with fire..."
Egobunma: "We are only offering alternatives, saving the world is not your responsibility-"
"I understand now why you did not call. You were safe, you were just ashamed! Of the interview, of ME. If I had-"
Mother is crying.
What have I done?
Oluwademilade: "Obi, I think you should leave."
"..."
"But I did not want-"
"I am so sorry."
I leave, ashamed of myself.
As the breeze of the night air brushes my skin, I feel I am in freefall, unsure of where-or even how-I will ever land.
SCENE: Seer Fighting against Gauge, sometime in the past
I remember my hardest fought battle in the Arenas. It was myself and another left in the match, all out of bullets with only our blades left in hand.
Fatique had overtaken me. it was all I could do to keep my weapons up.
But the crowd called my name, urging me to fight back and take the victory. I felt their energy. It helped me find a strength within myself I had not realized was there.
I rose to my feet and fought. I hardly recall how, but I prevailed because of their cries.
They wanted to be entertained - to be inspired - and so at my performance, they shouted, "Encore!"
Now I sit on the stafe in solitude, in the place where I made my name after the world cursed it
Now a rich and powerful man exploits our moon and they curse me again. "Encore". It is ironic, now. I might laugh, but even my parents will not stand behind me...
Someone crossed the stage behind me. I let out a sigh. I am not ready to fae the voices again - to hear their criticisms.
: (CHUCKLE) "Come to bask in your former glory?"
I turn to see Catalyst standing nearby. Of course the strongest of my dissenters would the one to appear.
: "I should go."
: "You don't have to leave. You were here first."
: "I have no desire to argue with you, and I know my prescene is unwanted. You are not the first to want me gone today."
I begin to depart, but her next word gives me pause.
: "Stay"
: "...Why?"
: "Because I think you need this place as much as I do."
She comes to stand beside me.
: "This is one of the bets places on Boreas to see the moon. Cleo in all her glory."
: "I was not aware."
A silence grows between us as we look upon the moon above the arena, its fractured pieces drifting away, however imperceptibly.
It has never been whole in my lifetime, but I saw myself in its image - something beautiful and powerful that never ceases to rise despite its brokenness.
Seeing it now, it just looks... sad.
: "... I don't think you're a bad person, you know."
: "Is that so... ?"
: "But there are consequences to what you did, and you have to face them."
: (SIGH) "I just want to do the right thing."
"But you didn't." She does not speak, but I can hear the words all the same.
: "Do you really think what you did was the 'right thing'?"
: "I thought... it was what the people want me to do - that it was the right way to help after my interview with Miss Stone."
: "I did not want to be the person she said I was."
: "..."
: "I've been working on Cleo's restoration for the last fifteen years alongside hundred of others, and I don't know if she's getting any better."
: "Still, it's what I believe has helped her the most. Not violence and destruction. I'ver already seen where that leads."
: "But you pushed to bring the Games here because you thought it was what others wanted. Big move for something you're not even sure you believed in."
I look into the skies, gazing upon Cleo. There are lights - not stars, but ships. In my lifetime, I can only recall that much traffic going to the moon when I was scarcely more than a three-years-old.
: "I was convinced - or perhaps convinced myself - it was the best way forward. I acted... too harshly."
: "But I have to believe it was not for nothing. The moon is receiving resources it needs."
: (GROAN) "At the cost of its people"
: "It means the people of Boreas will be safer."
: "Screw Boreas"
: "Y-you cannot mean that."
: "Of course I do. You were an outcast, but you managed to build your own place you could fit in."
: "A lot of us didn't have the skills you had, or the support behind us we needed to make that happen. Cleo welcomeed us with open arms."
: "She let us be ourselves. We found a community in each other. Those are the people I fight to protect."
: "Wh-what about everyone else?"
: "Why would you even care about them after so many said you were 'cursed'?"
: (SIGH) "Because... my mother, and my father. Their love kept me warm, and I know that every person on our planet gives that gift to someone else."
: "That is what I want to protect."
She watches me for a long moment, then extends her hand.
Seer facing off against Gauge holding a pair of sai weapons in Encore. Seer is on one knee, his hat knocked to the ground, glaring up at Gauge as he wields his Heirlooms. Around him, the crowd cheers for him and holds up signs of encouragement. Released on Jan 31, 2023 and used as background in Chapter 4 of the quest. [1], by community artist clairepngart