Marco's Heart

[peccatore]

You find yourself in a bright white, circular room. It's nearly empty; too bare, almost clinically so. But the bareness of it means that what is visible here stands out:

A podium in the center, where a familiar figure sits, head buried in his hands. Three paths running from the podium to three different spots near the edges of the room - not corners; circles don't have corners - where three doors leading seemingly nowhere stand with no regard for their complete lack of structural support.

It doesn't take you long to figure out where you are, does it? You only have to decide where to start.

Comments

[peccatore]

Some of the files appear to contain news articles about mysterious phenomena. Part of them certainly sound supernatural in nature. Others could very well be talking about the weather.

Some of the documents appear to contain drafts for a 5-to-10 year timeline - a mission plan of sorts. They're full of handwritten notes. The year 2016 is circled and underlined on one of them. The word "PUBLIC" is right next to it.

The smaller notes are all handwritten, and quite hard to follow. They appear to be collections of thoughts.

[turntoash]

[So this is before the press conference.]

[Ashwyn squints. All four corner pieces are in place, and she's filled in a lot of the edge.]

You popped the lid off the supernatural threats as a way to atone... didn't you?

[peccatore]

"That... was the plan," Marco admits with a heaving side, slumping in his seat. "Part of it."

[turntoash]

[Her eyes gleam.]

Not everyone appreciated that, though, did they?

[peccatore]

"As they shouldn't have. I..."

He takes a deep breath. This is, perhaps, the last piece, the worst piece, but he owes it to Ashwyn to say it himself.

"I wanted to be the last one standing. I thought, somehow, I would accomplish that."

[turntoash]

[With an unreadable expression, Ashwyn leans on the desk and fixes Marco with a stare.]

Why?

[peccatore]

"I... would reveal myself at the end." He traces one of his drafted timelines with a finger, all the way down. "And if humanity made me pay for it, then... Everything would be made right."

[turntoash]

So your redemption was going to be to destroy anyone supernatural, one by one... ending with your own death.

That's why you organized the tournament, isn't it? And that's why Kaphlar hates you so much.

[peccatore]

"... The tournament was part of it." He nods. "Propaganda. A few of the participants were paid to be bad actors, but none of it was rigged, so-- so ultimately, the results were outside my control."

It all sounds insane to him now. He can't imagine how it sounds to Ashwyn.

"I don't know if that's why that man hates me. Maybe. It would make sense."

[turntoash]

How far did it get? Your plan, I mean.

[peccatore]

"The news spread all over the world. So, so did at least some of the paranoia. And the fear. But... When I was unmasked, it was all over."

[turntoash]

I... see.

I need to think about this. I'll go investigate the last door in the meantime.

[peccatore]

"... I don't think there will be anything of use to you there."

[turntoash]

No?

What's there, then?

[peccatore]

"Just... Nicer memories." He sighs. "Nothing of note for the investigation."

[turntoash]

I need the full picture, Marco. That means the good with the bad.

I'll see you on the other side.