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Sciel: Wow, I drank too much last night.
Monoco: I can’t remember a thing.
Esquie: You cleaned me out, mes amis!
Maelle: You bunch of drunks.
Maelle: We can finally reach the Paintress.
Lune: Let’s make sure we’re well-prepared beforehand. We still have a little bit of time.
Verso: Hm.
Lune: Maelle, you should do the honours.
Maelle: (screams)
Maelle: We can– We can do this. For Gustave.
Lune: For all of them.
Lune: Our attacks do nothing!
Verso: I don’t understand, the Gradient Attacks should work– Wait, Maelle.
Maelle: I don’t think this is the–
Verso: No, nononono.
Lune: Everybody okay?
Verso: Follow her. Quickly.
Lune: What?
Verso: This might be our only chance.
Lune: Yeah. Ok.
Inside the Monolith
Lune: We are… inside the Monolith… What was that thing? Why did it help us inside?
Verso: …
Sciel: Are you alright, Maelle?
Maelle: Up– Up there– She’s– The Paintress– She’s up there.
Verso: What do you mean?
Maelle: I don’t know, but I can sense– The real Paintress– Her heart is above us somewhere.
Lune: I guess we head up then.
Lune: Verso, what was that?
Verso: I don’t know…
Maelle: Fire. Again.
Lune: Again…
Maelle: …
Lune: Teaching her children to paint, huh…
Lune: Who is she fighting?
Sciel: Her husband?
Maelle: We’re inside her mind… These are memories…
Lune: How do you know that?
Maelle: The Chroma here… I can “read” it.
Young boy: Welcome to my train station. Where do you want to go?
Lune: Your “train station?”
Young boy: Yes, and Maman just bought me a new train.
Lune: Your maman bought you… an entire train?
Young boy: Yes, she knows how much I love them. (The boy turns back to admire his train.)
Lune: Where can you take us?
Young boy: From here your next destination is Lumière? My hometown!
Lune: All right, then, take us there.
Lune: I don’t understand…
Sciel: Verso, you ok?
Verso: Yeah, fine. Let’s keep moving, we’re almost at the top.
Maelle: Is that- You…
Verso: We’re taking her down.
Renoir: She’s not the only one who grieves. The pain of losing you… She made me inherit it. Punishment, perhaps, for not being there when it mattered. I refuse to lose my son.
Verso: That son was a stranger.
Renoir: But you’re not. You’re not.
Verso: You lost me years ago. And I lost you.
Renoir: So you leave us no choice? How are you different from her in doing this?
Verso: I’m tired.
Renoir: So trust me. We are your family.
Verso: Family is… complicated.
Renoir: If saving you means losing you, then so be it.
Verso: We only need to incapacitate him.
Maelle: We’ll find a way to kill him.
Renoir: Remember who your REAL family is. It’s not her. It’s your sister. Your mother. Me. WE are your family. You would condemn us all to die, for what? Who do you really save with your sacrifice?
Maelle: Your sister. And… your mother…
Verso: You’re too drunk on your own illusion to understand.
Renoir: Then let us celebrate the second destruction of the Dessendre family. At long last, we meet. This is all you have left of your son. Destroying it won’t bring your wife back. It will only destroy the last tie you have to each other. I love them too.
Maelle: We did it, Gustave–
Lune: Hey. How did you do that?
Maelle: I’m not sure. The Curator– I felt it–
Lune: Can you do it again?
Maelle: I don’t know– uh. I think so? Yeah, yeah I think I can.
Sciel: What did Renoir mean? The things he said to the Curator.
Verso: I’m– I’m not sure.
Maelle: She’s through there.
Lune: Yeah. Behind this door is the future of Lumière. What every expedition has worked towards. I have trust… in us.
Lune: We’re… outside?
Maelle: She’s there– I can feel her.
Monoco: We need to be as prepared as possible. Once we go up, there’s no turning back.
Maelle: That’s her. The Paintress.
Sciel: She looks like the Curator.
Lune: Renoir. He mentioned the Curator’s wife. She’s the Paintress?
The Paintress: You’ve come– back– But the fire– Are you really here? Or is He–? Oh… is he playing tricks again? Alicia…
Lune: Alicia?
The Paintress: Your face–
Maelle: My face? What about my face? Are you going to burn it again?
Lune: Alicia’s your daughter.
Sciel: And Maelle reminds you of her. The daughter you lost.
The Paintress: Come along. Let’s go home.
Verso: Yes. You need to go home.
The Paintress: This is another trick. She’s not Alicia. You are not my Verso.
Verso: No, Verso’s dead.
The Paintress: No, no, you are HIS creations, not mine. You will not take this Canvas from me!
Verso: This is what we created the Expeditions for.
Lune: Tomorrow comes.
The Paintress: How cruel of your father to use you like this.
Verso: Merde! I don’t like this. Esquie! Look what I found.
Esquie: Oooooh! SOARRIE! Whoooohooo! All aboard!
Lune: Let’s go.
The Paintress: Renoir can grieve however he likes. But I get to grieve my own way.
Maelle: Is it over?
Verso: No, we’re not done yet.
The Paintress: Why?
Verso: Rest now. Things’ll be better soon.
The Paintress: Alicia.
Sciel: It’s… over. The number–
Lune: She’s gone.
Monoco: It’s done. You’re free. You are all free.
Maelle: Is this real?
Sciel: Yeah. And I’m pretty sure Gustave’s watching over us. Hey, come– Wanna plant it?
Lune: Though presumably, there will be no one coming after, right?
Sciel: It’s symbolic!
Maelle: Let’s… let’s go home.
Sciel: Yeah.
Sciel: Still feel immortal?
Verso: No less than yesterday.
Sciel: Shall we test it out?
Verso: I appreciate the offer.
Sciel: Monoco. You’ve been extra quiet since we got to the Monolith.
Monoco: Have I?
Maelle: What now? We go back to Lumière and… life goes on?
Sciel: Yeah. Decades and decades in front of us. Guess this is how it feels to be immortal. What do we do now with all this time?
Lune: The Expedition might be over… But we’re not done yet. There are so many questions left to answer.
Esquie: LUMIERE… LUMIERE AHEAD! OOOOH!
Alicia: Brother, I tire of the conflicts and deceptions that plague our family and theirs. So I entrust you with this letter. Whether you give it to her is up to you. I’m at peace with what’s to come. When the time comes, I hope you will be too.
Maelle. It’s a strange feeling, watching you with my brother. Laughing and smiling. Without the scars or the memories that afflict me. Alicia – as she was meant to be. Not this painted version that I am. My family, a facsimile of yours. And this world, a mirror. Painted by our mother, the Paintress, to stave off her grief.
Seeing your expedition through would plunge us all into the abyss. For in ridding the world of the Paintress… You’d lose the sole force standing against the one who would erase us. The one who invokes the flowers of the Gommage. An act of love. For he does love her. Your Father.
On her Monolith, she paints a warning for us all. Of the few she can save as her power wanes. We all wish for our families to thrive. Your family, however, believes only one can survive. But perhaps you’ll find another way. You who have lived amongst us. Perhaps you differ from your father and your father, as I differ from mine. Your mother paints life. While your father, death. What will you paint?