There is nothing.

There is nothing.

Again.

Nothing?

Nothing, sad brother. No treachery. Just blackout.

Just lie there, passed out.

Well, almost nothing. There is the ground below you. That's still there. And the small light that's on -- fluttering -- somewhere in the Basal Ganglia.

Who's that?

That's me, blue eyes. That's me.

And who was that?

Who was what?

He speaks of the sickening longing, the unwell emotion. Even in the darkness he's grasping for it, still trying to hold on to the great sorrows slipping in the water -- slimy.

Yeah, that's the stuff!

Here in the Paleo-Mammalian Cortex we call it -- the shadow.

Because it's always there.

Tell him! Tell him!

Ah, yes. And in the olfactory system they call it The Apricot Chewing Gum Scented One. It's unhealthy of them to linger on it so. But -- as they say -- what do you do?

Smelled like betrayal.

Yeah, man. Fuck everything. Total blackout forever.

Enough... just lie there, motionless.

You think they would let you -- until you disintegrate into biomolecules? No, someone is breathing on your face now, inspecting your pupils. Stupid idiot.

I'm not coming back...

Oh, but you are. They're pouring something on you, in you. It's...

It's DELICIOUS.

Glowing lights on a dashboard emerge out of nothingness.

...where am I?

In the upholstered cabin of Lieutenant Kitsuragi's motor carriage, seated in the driver's basket. The air is thick with leatherworks and heavy fuel oil. Cold water runs down your chin.

"Drink -- water." The lieutenant is extending a small canister to your mouth.

Drink.

The water is cold, silvery -- the stuff of life itself as it pours down your parched throat. The pounding in your head recedes, the darkness parts.

"Drink." He tilts the canister. "You haven't drunk water in two days. Did you know the human body is not made to survive on alcohol alone? You need a secondary form of hydration."

Actually, beer and cider have loads of water in them.

"You know, in the Franconigerian centuries, the quality of water was so bad it was sometimes more hygienic to drink beer."

"But these are not the Franconigerian centuries. We are in the present. It is safe to sometimes drink water here." He hands you the canister.

"You know, I'm actually more of a magnesium based lifeform now."

"That's just a drug addict myth. In reality you're still comprised of dihydrogen oxide, which you must replenish to go on living."

Drink.

With greedy gulps, you down half a litre of cold water. Some of it spills on the driver's seat -- the lieutenant pays no heed to it.

"What happened?"

"I should ask you the same."

"You were reading your paperwork. Then you passed out. I carried you to my Kineema... to take you to a hospital. Then you came to."

"How long was I out?"

"Ten minutes maybe."

"I don't know. It could have been quite a while." He looks you in the eye, as if inspecting your mental state.

"There was a call on the shortwave: officer passed out in Martinaise." He furrows his brow. "I had a feeling it would be you. I'm glad I got here in time."

"I... fuck it." Start climbing out of the motor-car. (Conclude.)

"Good." He hands you the waterlogged remains of your ledger.

"You dropped this -- are you okay to proceed?"

Just nod. [Leave.]

"Good."

The Ledger of Failure and Hatred is a special item that can be used both as an INTERACTABLE and a TOOL equipped in your HELD slot for skill bonuses. Find it under the TOOLS tab in your INVENTORY.

"Let's solve this case." [Leave.]

"I found this next to you." He pauses. "I'll tag along for the rest of the day if you don't mind. My business is concluded anyway. Are you okay to go?"

"I was dehydrated. It won't happen again." (Conclude.)

"Right." he hands you the waterlogged remains of your ledger.

"I came in contact with the burnt out ruins of the past, lieutenant." (Conclude.)

"That does sometimes happen." He hands you the remains of your ledger.

He replies with such understanding it's as if the burnt out ruins of the past were an occupational hazard -- athlete's foot for cops.

"No. I don't wanna."

"There is no use arguing with me. You will die if you don't." His voice is pressing: "DRINK."

There really is no use arguing with him. This is him exerting the reserves of authority he usually withholds.