Original subtitles

(engine roaring)

(explosions)

(gunfire)

Cryer (on comms):

Give up your name!

Give up your

blasphemous fight

and join the FreeLife Army.

We are marauders.

We are God's Men!

What's your name, girl?

Crescent (on comms):

Second Boot, hold.

That's just a Cryer.

Byner, are we close?

Byner (on comms):

We're right on top of it.

Point of entry,

north side, 20 paces.

Crescent (on comms):

Boot, confirm entry point.

The rest, take his spot.

Cryer (on comms):

Give up your name.

Give up your

blasphemous fight

and join the FreeLife Army.

We are marauders.

We are God's Men!

Crescent (on comms):

What do you see?

Boot (on comms):

Found the point of entry.

It's a ladder.

-Can't see how far

down it goes...

-(firing, yells)

-Crescent: Boot! Go now! Move!

-Boot: Contact!

-(gunfire)

-We're taking fire.

-Multiple hostiles!

-(grunts)

(yelling, grunting)

Major:

Steady, soldier.

We kill you all,

it's gon' be slow.

Or maybe we could

talk about the prize

that brought us all here

in the first place.

(whirring)

-(thudding)

-(gasps)

(firing)

(yells, grunts)

-(yells)

-(gasps)

(retches, coughs)

Crescent (on comms):

You are now captives

of the PDC.

(distant gunfire)

(grunts)

♪

(panting)

(grunts)

(grunts)

(exhales)

Byner:

Oh, my blood,

there's heat.

Crescent:

Get me fuckin' light.

(doors whir open)

(door closes)

-(grunts)

-(beeps)

Air's good.

Byner, lights.

(grunts, pants)

Byner:

The whole system's gated.

Rex can't tap the O.S.

without a hard connect.

-Send little Rex.

-Major: Rex.

PDC creates A.I.,

forgets the I.

Like your systems

didn't clone our O.S.

Don't you listen to him.

You're a good bot.

You got any surprises

waiting in here?

I dearly hope so,

given the circumstances.

We were tracking the source

of the spatial anomaly,

same as you.

It was a FreeLife beacon

that tagged this place.

I don't know if they got inside.

Second Boot, tape his mouth.

-First tell me your name.

-Names are sacred, shitto.

My name is Major Joseph

Willing Greenbone,

FreeLife for life!

We do not hide from God

like you PDC dogs.

-We honor-- (grunts)

-Boot, say hello.

Boot (on comms):

We are the

Planetary Defense Coalition.

We are taking shelter here.

We've not come to fight,

but we are armed,

and will respond as greeted.

Hey. What's a Stripe

doing here alone?

-And why didn't we

read her heat?

-She possumed.

She swallowed glazers.

I watched her gurge 'em up.

-Her body temp

must've been nil.

-Shit.

(beeping, whirring)

(chimes)

You swallowed coolant pods?

(grunts softly)

The heat change'll

shred your organs

if you don't relax.

Is your stomach coated?

Pheen.

I can't give you pheen.

You'll never level

if you're zoned.

Byner:

All clear. Got a schematic.

Who's a good bot?

Anything upstairs?

Then we're alone.

Which seems wrong.

Stripe hasn't called colors.

-What's your Pride?

-Forty-first Ground,

out of Edinburgh.

No one got out of Edinburgh.

Three of us did.

The other two died

on the walk down.

Sixteenth Hailstormers,

D-field Green.

Our Stripe got taken out,

if you're mission fit.

I need to get her

regulated first.

She was possuming out there.

Also, there's a bullet

in my leg.

Sick bay's northeast quarter.

So ordered.

Boots, secure the "Major,"

and do a full sweep.

Byner and I will try to

contact Command.

I've never seen anyone possum

in this kind of cold.

I was running out of options.

Twenty FreeLife Marauders

dropped in an hour

before you did.

Twenty? Our scanners read eight.

I had an hour.

(grunts)

(groans)

-(exhales)

-Knitter: Lucky,

you being where you were.

Didn't feel that lucky.

-Pheen. Shit is weak.

-You get nothing pure.

Popping glazers?

That's not playing dead.

That's practicing.

-What's your PitSid level?

-(inhales)

Too high to make Crescent,

too high to go home.

Everyone has PitSid.

I got the most.

You get temporals? Flashbacks?

I'm not even sure this is now.

Great. You're mission fit.

You gotta jar me.

Oof.

You gonna ask me

what the mission is?

You're looking for a Galanthi.

-(clicks)

-(yells, grunts)

(cylinder whirring)

(vials clattering)

(cylinder hissing)

(grunts)

-Who are you?

-My name?

That's a little forward.

I was married for three years,

and I never told either of them.

Come on.

Fighting over a side post

in the middle of nothing

'cause you saw a...

spatial anomaly,

which means a portal,

which is how the Galanthi

came here,

I figure Command saw

the FreeLife beacon,

lost their shit.

Sent your Pride in

'cause they were close,

and 'cause you are a spore.

Can I have my pheen back?

(mouths):

Fuck.

And the term is

"empathically enhanced."

"Spore" is a little rude.

Yeah. But only a spore

would call me on it.

Why is it rude?

Don't the Galanthi

rain spores on everyone?

Make 'em all wise and adorable?

Knitter:

The spores are translators.

They activate parts of the mind

needed to comprehend Galanthi

language and tech.

Not that I can.

I've never even seen one.

But it does broaden

the perspective.

What were these guys building?

-Museum?

-When was this even from?

Well, it's late Victorian.

Maybe early 20th?

Wasn't always a soldier.

-Knitter: Are those sim-strips?

-Boatload.

Byner can go through them.

He lives in sims.

Not just the fuck-tech.

Mostly the fuck-tech.

Stripe:

Please tell me he's not virgan.

All that "flesh is evil" crap.

What is this?

Every Galanthi project is huge.

Pure water systems,

tectonic stabilizers.

This is...

None of those are happening.

FreeLife bombed every site.

Killed them.

All of 'em?

Weren't there, what,

20 Galanthi?

-How many of them

are still alive?

-Maybe one.

Maybe more.

Command didn't know

about this one.

Well, so far, neither do we.

Second Boot (screams):

Fuck! Heat!

What the fuck is that?

Get the Crescent.

-Is that the Galanthi?

-Slow.

And quiet.

You don't wanna

wake this thing up.

Damn, those kids are gray.

(power surging)

♪

-(footsteps approaching)

-Knitter: Hey, whoa, whoa.

It's just a garden.

Yeah, no, it's just something

out of a farmer's daughter's sim

sitting here in real life.

So normal and usual.

Food made out of actual food.

Nobody eat anything yet.

We got a door here.

Crescent:

Byner, what's the schematic say?

That there isn't a door here.

(clinking)

♪

(ominous music playing)

It's the science team.

FreeLife got 'em.

FreeLife don't hide their kills.

Stripe:

Or clean up after.

This shaft goes way down.

They were hiding

whatever's below us.

Another level?

Crescent:

Byner, any other doors

that shouldn't be there?

(door whirs open)

(panting)

♪

(beeps, whirs)

(grunting)

(screaming)

-Crescent: Hold.

-(device chiming)

Is-- Is that--

That's blood.

That's human blood.

-Fuck me!

-(gasping)

There's a shaft right above it.

This is why they

hung the bodies there.

-What, they were feeding it?

-Knitter: What? No.

Galanthi don't drink blood

for food.

What's it doing?

Stripe:

Pride, stay calm.

This is fat glass.

Bullets will do nothing

but bounce back.

Whoa.

(rumbling)

-(firing)

-(bullets ricocheting)

(slashing)

-(choking)

-(splashing)

Major:

Oh, I remember now.

The boys that found

this place did get in.

They didn't have the firepower

to kill a Galanthi,

so they improvised.

Lit the beacon and got clean,

in case we sent nukes.

-Just kill this shitto.

-No. We are completely

off mission here.

We were tasked to

save the Galanthi,

and you all shot at it,

and hit one of ours!

-She is not one of ours.

-Don't shrill at a superior.

-We were repelling an advance.

-Knitter: It wasn't an advance.

-It was a fucking handshake.

-Byner: Yeah,

we weren't overly briefed

-on how all this would--

-What about the blood?

-Why would the FreeLife

go to all of that--

-Torture.

(scoffs)

We saw the bodies, genius.

Not the team.

The team was

just the method.

'Cause the Galanthi

bonded with 'em.

Cared for them.

It's basic torture protocol.

You always do the family first.

I would love to know your name.

Second Boot:

How could they get information

from the Galanthi?

Oh, Dainty, torture's

not about information.

Crescent:

It's about hope.

Removing the concept of hope.

But we've done all right.

We're all running hot,

but we found the Galanthi.

And it is still alive.

Well, now, that's

actually your problem.

I called for a full incursion

the moment we met resistance.

Thanks for the intel, big mouth.

So did we. (scoffs)

Wait. Shit...

So, a full engagement

20 feet above our heads?

Nuclear bombs flying everywhere.

We'll never survive that.

Nothing will.

Unless we settle the question,

and put that poor thing

out of its misery.

Close the damn portal.

Tell the world it's over.

You'll save many lives.

Including your own.

I need to reach Command.

Is this a bribe?

You have to help me.

Don't worry, ma'am.

The Planetary Defense Coalition

is here.

(clatters)

(sighs deeply)

What'd you expect?

They were gonna lay down

their lives for something

that gives them nightmares?

-They know what's at stake.

-Stripe: Which is what, exactly?

Why'd the Major say,

"Close the portal"?

I thought they'd close

once the Galanthi get through.

Not this one.

It's stable. It's--

Command think it's what the team

were helping it build.

Reinforcements?

You think there's more comin'.

Maybe the 20 were scouts.

Maybe the Galanthi

are just getting started.

This could be where

we turn the tide.

Do the job the PDC

was formed to do.

There's still time.

Nobody has to die.

Yeah.

Feel like someone's gonna.

(keys beeping)

Scientist (over computer):

It's hard to believe

we're finally here.

Everyone appreciates

the gravity of what

this might mean. (laughs)

Okay. Almost everyone

can appreciate the gravity--

Okay!

What are you after? Huh?

Do you want to do my report?

I never expected

such playfulness.

But seriously,

the team have worked hard,

they deserve

their celebration today.

-(clicking)

-(Major grunts)

How does a free-thinking

man like yourself

get so egregiously split-tailed?

I know you wanna

walk out of here.

To where? The planet's fucked.

I don't like the Galanthi,

but we need them to survive.

What if thousands of them

come through that rift?

Millions?

What if that freak downstairs

is just a pet,

sniffing us out?

It's the Crescent's call.

He doesn't wanna make that call.

And he left you with me.

Okay, then. We move it.

Can't. The storm is bringing

a static front.

Any kinetic movement,

your muscles explode.

You know what?

You win.

-What did I win?

-Whatever you want.

Whatever's here that's

gonna make you step up

and give a shit.

We've got a great selection.

Name your poison.

Can I mix, or do I just get one?

We are this close to winning.

Not the war, but the world.

Imagine winning the planet back.

Making it livable.

Floods, famine, terra-storms.

The Galanthi can make them stop.

-Then where are they?

-(gun clacks)

The portal's stable.

Why aren't they galloping

through?

-It's probably not finished.

-Why didn't they come before?

What about

the five billion people

that your great brainosaurs

came too late to save?

-They're not gods.

-Then stop praying to 'em.

(rumbling, clinking)

Can you do one thing for me?

Can you just hope

that we make it right?

I'm not afraid to fight,

if that's what it takes.

But it has to be for a purpose.

It has to matter.

-To you.

-You don't get to ask that.

-I just did.

-No.

-(gun clacks)

-You cannot.

Twenty-eight years of slogging

through blood and shit

-and towering disappointment...

-Oh, don't war story me.

-I've been in it.

-...has buried me here,

likely forever.

And I am not gonna die

waiting on a savior.

You're just really insistent

that we have to die.

Because this close is

where we always end up.

It's where we all fold.

This close, change is too scary,

even for the people

who fight for it.

That's why FreeLife always wins.

-They don't always win.

-They own history.

One fuckin' form or another,

the man who has the club--

I've heard all of this,

and I know it's not so.

Because you are spored.

Because I was FreeLife.

Born and raised.

I've done things that

you can't imagine.

And the spores,

they didn't make me

brilliant or brainwashed.

They were a question.

And it turns out that

nothing will crack this world

harder than one gentle question.

So, yes. I hope...

for a better world.

(sighs softly)

-(beeping)

-No.

(power surging)

Fuckin' no!

(sparking)

(bot squeals)

(distant gunfire)

(distant thud)

Major:

The only way you live

is if it dies.

We have to get rid of it.

Byner:

You moron. You already did.

It's leaving!

(grunts)

There's no reinforcements!

(grunts)

The rift is stable,

'cause it goes the other way.

Galanthi's not getting help.

It's getting out.

Nah. Nah, that--

That feels just a bit

too convenient.

-(firing)

-(grunting)

(panting)

(rumbling)

No.

-Please, don't leave us.

-Stripe: Can we cut the power?

Rex must have tripped

the safety.

The Galanthi locked us out.

He's got enough power

now to--

to get up to the portal,

and... Aah!

Hey, can I get

a fuckin' Knitter here?

I'm bleeding out!

You were right.

It was always

gonna end like this.

-(gunshot)

-(grunts)

Crescent:

Boot! Stand the fuck down!

-Good man.

-Who's the best at

playing possum now?

She is.

(gunshots)

(grunting softly)

(grunting)

Crescent:

Stay with me.

(panting)

I don't understand.

They... They gave up.

(distant rumbling)

-They gave up on--

-Stripe: No. Shh.

-Shh.

-I'm sorry.

Stripe:

Hey. Look at me.

Hey.

-(whimpers)

-The Galanthi is going

back for help.

Believe me, okay?

I believe there's hope.

-Please hope.

-(Knitter sniffles)

(sniffles)

Do you wish to

tell me your name?

H...

♪

♪

-(gulps)

-(bottle clatters)

(lid pops)

(clatters)

(moans softly)

♪

♪

(energy whirring)

(uplifting music playing)

♪

(exploding)

(light classical music playing)

♪

(distant indistinct chatter)

Aren't those

sweet little things?

Varnum!

Didn't expect to

see you at this hour.

-They've got us in early

for the inventory.

-Mmm.

What are they?

French cakes.

Financiers.

Got more butter than flour.

Can you imagine?

Molly, for the shops

by the docks,

when you're done.

Here. Gert says

they're out of place.

I guess she's got a point.

Little pups among the hounds.

That's incredible.

I mean it, Molly.

-These are--

-Gert, your sign's blocking

half my doorway!

-Gert: Get away with ya!

-You could have a posh tea room.

Thomas: Oi-oi.

That one's a monster.

(laughs)

Someone cock it up, did they?

A tea room?

No, it's just a treat

for when I have a family.

You could have both.

Thomas:

See, you've gotta charge

more for bigger.

The ladies like it bigger.

(clicks tongue)

Ah, yeah.

This one knows what I mean.

Look at her, eh?

Blushing like a maid.

Gert:

We're gonna have more day-olds

tomorrow than I'd like.

Oof.

-Kicking?

-Ooh, like a musical can-can.

-You're gonna tell him yes?

-(register dings)

You'll not get

many offers as good.

-I'm not sure.

-It's Varnum

you're mooning over.

He's not got the money to marry.

-Has he even said

he would if he could?

-(bell jingles)

He's made no kind of promise.

Gert:

I like him the better for that.

You've gotta be thinking

of your future, Molly.

Your real future.

Not the one that's in your head.

Thing is, our Jenny's

coming on 12 this autumn.

And, uh, I can put her on

for no pay.

So it-it's a savings...

I understand. Yes, of course.

I could send her out

to earn instead,

but these factories...

No, of course she'll not

go to a factory.

She has to come here,

work with her mum.

The shops still need

rolls delivered.

(laughs) And I wouldn't send

Jenny 'round by the river.

I'll give you a penny

to carry 'em down.

-Married ladies need

a little pin money.

-Thank you. Yes.

Well, God makes His plans,

so here we are.

♪

Ma.

Do you remember Molly?

We're married now.

You look well, Mrs. True.

Thomas:

Well, you bothered to carry it,

so show her the cake.

-I brought you--

-Thomas: Louder.

I brought you wedding cake.

(chokes, coughs)

Thomas:

Nah.

-It's too rich.

-(coughing continues)

♪

(distant yelling)

(dog whimpers)

♪

You got better a lot

quicker the last time.

I'm fine.

Yeah. (chuckles)

You should charge more.

Since it looks like them rolls

are all you're gonna deliver.

(giggles)

I'm serious.

That's two you've lost.

-If I'm not gonna have

a namesake to take over--

-The next one will take.

-(thunder rumbles)

-(rain pattering)

(groans)

Solicitor:

I'm just so sorry

for the timing.

But with the medical bills,

him being behind on

the payments for the shop,

the flat's his mum's.

So you'll still have a place.

But Thomas' debts

are outstanding,

and you'll need

to find something...

♪

-Gert: Just dragging

your heels a bit.

-Good morning, Jenny.

-Morning.

-And here's me

dying to tell you

who I saw in the

high street yesterday.

Varnum Dale.

Varnum.

-I thought he moved away

for the promotion.

-And back for the next.

In charge of the whole office.

But he recognized me.

Can you imagine?

Pulled his carriage over.

Asked after you.

After me?

Invited us all to attend

his housewarming, sweet boy.

'Course his wife's

seven months in,

and a barren woman's bad luck

in an expectant home,

so I just thanked him for you.

That's the man

you should have gone after.

I always said.

(horse whinnies)

Man:

You in a hurry?

-Now you're being rude.

-Leave me be.

There's no real changes.

Probably just wind.

And how are you feeling?

Well enough, thank you.

We had our troubles

with your system, my girl,

but Thomas having passed,

it's a clear mercy

there were no children.

A mercy.

You're very good with her.

She's a dying woman.

I could hardly do less.

(laughs)

Don't write her off

too quickly, my dear.

She'll not rise from that bed,

but she survived an illness

that killed her son.

I know that type.

Cast iron all through.

Bury us all, more'n like.

Well, God makes His plans,

so here we are.

Sometimes it feels like

God made His plans

long before He met us.

I don't need to

charge you this time,

but, well, in the future...

♪

(baby crying)

♪

(squeaking open)

Came out the drink.

Guys at the dock said

she works for the bakery.

Molly something.

You'll be fine here, Molly.

-(screaming)

-(slashing)

-(grunts)

-(in Stripe's voice):

Yeah, I might not.

Is this a sim?

It's gotta be FreeLife tech

'cause your temporal

sequencing's fucked.

Sarah:

Play with me.

Back you go now, Sarah.

You have been here

enough now to know the rules.

What are the fucking rules?

'Cause this "Christmas Carol"

crap is so specific

to my three-term focus.

Matron:

You will keep a civil tongue

in this house.

You will be meek

and grateful to God

that you have been delivered

from your own sinful act.

And now I know the rules.

-(thwacks)

-Orderly 1: Oi!

-Orderly 2: Hey!

-(grunts)

(inhales sharply)

-(groaning softly)

-(chains clinking)

(exhales)

Hi, Molly.

Sorry about the restraints.

They don't usually do that,

but you made a mess

of the Matron.

I never heard her wail so.

(laughs)

-I'm Sarah.

-Yeah. That's a straight play.

You can just gift

your sacred name,

'cause you're not a sim.

You're from 18-fuckity-12.

You're not mean like the others.

We become friends.

We tell each other secrets.

You know, Sarah,

a friend's the one you trust

to trust you back.

Well...

Yes. (laughs)

My carbonated fuck,

you are gray!

I don't have any secrets.

-I don't have any secrets!

-(chair slides)

(girls shushing)

I'm a Stripe.

I go, and I do.

And no one said "go."

I got no mission.

I should be dead.

Why aren't I dead?

(pants)

Why are my hands so...

tiny?

(breathing shakily)

It's all right, pet. Shh. Shh.

-(Amalia yelps)

-Shh... Shh...

Shh. It's all right.

-Shh.

-(Amalia sobbing)

-It's all right.

-(sobbing continues)

-(crunching)

-Nurse: It's how many,

the last few weeks?

Do you know what?

Some of them seem

fine at first.

Nurse 2:

Fine? Girl comes in

last night soaking wet.

Couldn't dry her off.

Toweled her for an hour.

Had to send her away,

soaking worse than

when she first came...

Fucking PitSid.

I need some pheen.

Sarah:

If you'd been outside,

you wouldn't be making fun.

Mrs. Hundley:

I highly doubt the Lord Himself

-presented to you

as a great light.

-I know what I saw.

You're an unreliable witness,

my dear.

You're in an asylum.

-So are you.

-Sarah: This is different.

He was sh-shaped like

a dragonfly.

And He came all apart like...

snow or sparks.

Mrs. Hundley:

Sparks?

Was there fire?

Or spores...?

He flew over me,

and then they come down,

and then I saw a flash.

Like an explosion,

but with no noise or smoke.

He was just gone.

Someone else will believe me.

I believe you.

I want to know

exactly how it went.

Mrs. Hundley:

A single spark can set

the whole house ablaze.

-Horatio: Mrs. True.

-Mrs. Hundley: An oil lamp can

be hidden under a proper skirt

-for just so long...

-Horatio: Mrs. Amalia True.

-Mrs. Hundley: Mr. Hundley...

-I'm Dr. Cousens.

I'm here for your

physical examination.

Amalia:

Sorry.

It's my name.

I'm not used to--

(passionate moaning)

There's another physician

making the rounds,

if you'd prefer a white doctor.

No! No. That's not--

Yes. Hi, Dr. Cousens,

it's Molly.

Just Molly.

Let's do this.

You seem to have

avoided infection,

despite the Thames'

best efforts.

Believe it or not,

I've been in worse.

-Are you from America?

-South-coast Canada.

Or... Yes. Or no, I'm...

(with British accent):

a baker.

I see.

Are you in any pain?

(in Stripe's voice):

I'm weak.

Has there been anything

about a light

in the sky, from the day

I ended up here?

Someone saw, or in the news?

Is that why you went

in the river?

-A light?

-No, I think it's

why I came out.

Has anyone been, uh... better?

Smart, or...

compassionate, or...

(distant rattling)

You know what? Never mind.

I sound like I belong

in this place.

(distant screaming,

commotion)

-(screams)

-(slashes)

They took my babies!

I have a baby every day

and they take it!

-(slashes)

-(yells)

-(screaming)

-Nurse: You're just

making it worse!

-Back to the cellar for you!

-Aah! No, no, no!

No! (screaming)

I've done this before.

-I can tell.

-No.

No. I...

-(door closes)

-No, I saw it

the day I came here.

I thought it was a sim...

-mptom.

-It's all right.

I'm gonna sew you up.

I just need a nurse to...

(faint whirring)

Please.

(energy humming)

It's a lot to take in.

No. No, no.

Aliens from the future

gave us magic powers.

It was staring me in the face.

Well, you've seen ailments

you can't explain

last few weeks, yeah?

Here in the ward, yes.

But I'm not...

Insane?

A woman.

Well, there's gotta be more.

The spores don't affect

everyone they hit.

I never understood why.

But they don't normally

cause random powers.

There's a pattern I'm missing.

Wish they'd let us

read the papers.

Why are you telling me

all of this?

-I trust you.

-Why?

-Did... did you see

something in--

-No. No. I...

Should I trust you?

Do you think I'm insane?

Maybe.

Maybe your alien was.

They were torturing it.

I don't know if

this is good news.

But you were right.

People are hiding it,

but it's all over.

Amalia:

No one's spored,

empathically enhanced.

There's no one

here to guide us.

To say here's what

needs to change.

Or... What?

-Fuck you.

-No, I'm--

No, I... Fuck you.

I was a mistake.

A mean joke. I'm a Stripe.

I'm not good.

I've got issues you literally

don't have names for yet.

I might be why

the spores were shit.

-You know what's coming.

And you care.

-I did my time!

I spent a lifetime fighting

and it didn't make any...

Why would it put me in this?

Yeah, this doughy little frame.

It's perfect.

I got world-class tits,

but I can't see over a chair.

It's a...

...good frame.

And nobody was using it.

I gotta get out of this place.

Then you might not want

to say "fuck" quite so often.

And give me back my morphine.

Fuck!

Lester says just a few weeks.

I do feel so much better.

I miss his cooking, though.

A man who cooks.

(in British accent):

A man... who cooks.

He said the light might

have been a German balloon.

A zeppelin.

He doesn't know

what's going on about God.

How He's gonna

give us a mission.

(in Stripe's voice):

You didn't say anything,

did you?

About us, or the mission?

You don't have to ask me that.

You're the one I trust

to trust me back.

Dr. Hague:

Ladies!

I'm Dr. Hague.

I've been hearing about you two.

Which one is Amelia?

Amalia. Molly.

Then you must be Sarah.

(laughs softly)

What, uh...

(with British accent):

What have you been hearing?

Well, first of all,

that you two may be among

the-- the Touched.

That's what they're calling

these people who've...

blossomed these

last few months.

"Touched."

They called me that already.

(laughs)

I'll tell you what, Sarah,

I'm looking for someone

to do a special study with

at my facility.

I'd like to spend a minute

with each of you.

One on one.

Can you give me a minute

-with Amel-- Amalia?

-(chuckles)

And then you and I

can have our own little chat?

(footsteps departing)

They tell me that

you can see the future.

No, I... feel it.

Suddenly. Like I'm falling down.

But I'm not.

And then later, I do.

Once, I smelled oat cakes,

and we had them that night.

I don't like to think

about it too much.

It hurts a little.

I wouldn't want to study it.

It's not a volunteer study.

Tell me...

about the lights.

Sorry?

Dr. Hague:

The lights in the sky.

When you were admitted.

I didn't see any lights.

I was...

Well, I fell in the river.

I jumped, I guess.

I don't remember.

(imitates British accent):

I don't remember.

Huh. Can that really be true?

-The Matron said you were

very outspoken about--

-It was Sarah.

She was terribly upset. She...

said she saw God in the sky,

and no one would believe her.

I lied. Because, well,

she wouldn't stop crying, and...

Well, she never let it go,

and I couldn't tell her

that I...

When the weird things happened,

she said it was proof that

there was a "mission"?

Please don't tell Matron

what I did.

I just wanted Sarah to be happy.

To have something to...

She thinks she's getting better.

(clicks tongue)

No.

What's going on?

(in Stripe's voice):

Tell him what you saw.

He's going to help.

♪

-(in British accent):

What a to do.

-What a to do.

What a to do.

What a to do to die today.

Amalia:

What a to do to die today.

And sip.

Mmm. Delicious.

-Loud.

That's right, gently.

-Noisy.

Lovely.

Mrs. Hundley (speaking slowly):

Loud noisy girls...

-Girls...

Mrs. Hundley:

Return to the bowl.

Take your napkin, and dab.

Corners of the mouth,

very lady-like.

And thank your hostess.

Lovely.

-(panting)

-Amalia: Now remember,

this is not what this is for.

♪

(grunting)

(panting)

♪

(exhales)

♪

Amalia?

The board will see you now.

(distant wailing)

Lavinia:

(clears throat)

The review board said

your release hearing

was exemplary.

That you are motivated,

articulate,

that you take care

of the other inmates,

and in terms of the Touched,

you, and I quote,

"practically run the place."

There is also

an impassioned

recommendation

from Dr. Cousens.

Although he is

not a psychiatrist.

-Why are you here, Mrs.--

-Bidlow. Miss.

The voice is good.

No trace of the butcher's

widow to be found.

It's as if it were another life.

They did find

a cache of weapons

under the floorboards

beneath your bed,

during your hearing.

You grab the spoon

after they've set aside

your dishes.

A sharpened spoon,

that's your first step

to freedom.

Unless they find it.

You had every reason

to expect a positive

outcome from the hearing.

I had no reason to expect

a positive outcome.

Because of your "turn"?

Did you see

the coming rejection?

I "practically run the place."

For free.

If you have any head

for numbers, you can do

the lack of maths.

I have an extraordinary

head for numbers.

I also know that people

will often do

everything in their power

to keep from getting

the thing they want.

I suspect you could've been

miles from here months ago.

And where would I go?

That is why I am here.

What do you think?

I think I am starting to like

this body after all.

Oh, the place.

It's dreary as fuck.

And it's definitely filled

with the angry ghosts

-of murdered children.

-Hmm.

Miss Bidlow give you

any new names?

Possible charges?

Some Irish girl.

I think she builds things.

Not Patience,

but something weird.

Sadness O'Religionface.

I don't know.

God, I hope she drinks.

I thought you were

boasting before.

But you might actually be

the worst person for this job.

No, I'm gonna be great.

Gonna bring us all

harmony and peace.

-(yells)

-(loud thud)

(commotion, grunting)

-Annie: Penance said

this was the easy way!

-(yelling)

Augie:

Bertie Blair told me

all the soldiers

would be deployed elsewhere!

Horatio:

Augustus! Leave the drilling!

-(drill powers off)

-True!

Sorry, sorry, sorry!

-(grunts)

-(indistinct shouting)

Aah!

Annie:

They're backing off!

If we can't get down there

you need...

Augie (yelling):

Amalia!

(crumbling)

Amalia!

(coughing)

(panting)

(coughs)

(rocks crumbling)

Horatio!

(breathing heavily)

♪

♪

(exhales sharply)

All this time, you're still

in the fucking ceiling.

-(thuds)

-(grunts)

(energy humming)

So now what?

(exhales)

I told everyone you were

going to save them.

Save the world.

That you're... hope.

But you're not.

Not for Lucy. Not for Mary.

And Sarah?

(scoffs)

What a team, you and me,

except no you.

No wisdom. No plan.

Just people to leave behind

over and over and...

I'm doing it now.

I left Penance because

you said, "Find me."

I left my heart to come

talk to you. Talk to me!

Why are you hiding?

Why did it go so wrong?

Was it me?

Did my... wreck of a brain

cause all this shit?

I can't think what else to...

I woke up in this world,

in this body that

I can't fit into. Who...

Who is this? Who the fuck am I?

You should have brought Knitter.

She believed.

And I took that from her.

She died in despair. My despair.

It should have been

anyone else.

Someone not broken.

Someone... taller.

(cracking, rumbling)

(chatter, laughter)

(gunfire)

-(thuds)

-(grunts)

(soft laughter)

Sarah:

Molly...

♪

-(sobbing)

-(screaming)

Amalia:

Are you upset that I...

Are you upset that I told you?

-What?

-Is it too much too soon?

-No.

-(bottle clatters)

No.

It is upsetting.

The future being

so grim for everyone.

But we'll just change it all up.

You make it sound so simple.

Penance:

No. It's work.

It's a life's work.

Like as not to drive us mad,

or get us killed.

And we'll never know

if we'd done enough,

or done it right.

But what in the world's

as rare and nourishing

as a life's work?

As I see it, God gave me a gift.

And by way of recompense...

He's given me another.

Any idea what we do next?

Declan:

You wanted a war, love.

Man:

Yes, I know what happened.

-Dr. Hague: Did you think...

-Woman:

...you were the only one

who hitched a ride?

(growling)

(gun cocks)

-(fires)

-(exploding)

-(rumbling)

-(grunts)

Myrtle:

Oh, Amalia...

This is a long time

from that little cave.

This...

I will need you to forget.

(exploding)

(thuds)

(grunts)

(panting)

(distant running footsteps)

(growling)

Oh, that part's now.

(growling)

-(thwacks)

-(grunts)

(grunts)

(fires)

(firing)

-(door bangs shut)

-(whirring)

(gun cocks, fires)

(energy whirring)

(rumbling)

(grunting)

(panting)

♪

(cawing)

(men grunting)

♪

(indistinct chatter)

♪

Go all right?

You?

Uh, it was a riot.

-Horatio:

Slowly, slowly.

-Aneel: Harriet!

Horatio:

Slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly.

Aneel:

Harriet! I'm, I'm...

so sorry.

We didn't save Maladie.

I'm glad you tried.

It was the right call.

I didn't find out

who our enemy is.

But you found something out.

(exhales)

It's time to tell them.

Everything.

The future. The Galanthi.

-The fight that's coming.

-Feels right.

-It's coming soon.

-I know.

(sighs)

My name is Zephyr.

Zephyr Alexis Navine.

Well, I'm very pleased

to meet ya.

Me, too.

(distant whirring)

(firing)

Fuckin' prototype.

(lively music playing)

♪