Estevez (V.O.): This isn’t the Bureau’s first time in Bright Falls. 1970, ‘76, ‘78. Latest one was in 2010. It’s not exactly clockwork, but this town sees way more Altered World Events than most. We knew it was just a matter of time before the lake acted up again. After the AWE in 2010 the FBC’s Research Department set up a facility. The Lake House. To study the Threshold in Cauldron Lake, find better ways to contain the entity inside. Your tax dollars at work. When we detected a spike in paranatural activity at Cauldron Lake, before I even knew you were on this case, Saga, the Lake House was my first stop. I was shorthanded, hoped they could spare some help, maybe give us some intel on the situation. If I had any clue what was waiting for us in there, Saga, I would have just kept on driving.
Estevez: This is Agent Kiran Estevez, responding to an AWE alert in the vicinity. I need to speak with the Marmonts. So much for the welcome wagon. You all set up a perimeter. We’re on the Threshold’s doorstep so keep your eyes peeled.
FBC Agent: Yes, ma’am.
Estevez: Agent Kiran Estevez, requesting entry. I don’t have time for this. This shouldn’t take long. You see anything, radio me.
FBC Agent: Roger that.
Estevez (V.O.): The Lake House was run by the Research Department. Research and Investigations don’t really see eye-to-eye. What they call “science”, I call a violation of Bureau protocol and human decency. Classic inter-departmental drama. You’re FBI, Saga. You know how it goes. In retrospect, my low opinion of the Research Department may have clouded my judgment.
Estevez: Hello? Agent Kiran Estevez. Investigations Department. No one wants to check the individual carrying a firearm into a restricted government facility? No?
Jules: Hello? And welcome to another exciting day here at the Lake House! As I’m sure you know, I am Doctor Jules Marmont and this is my wife…
Diana: Doctor Diana Marmont.
Jules: And together we are the heads of research at this facility!
Diana: And together we are the heads of research at this facility.
Jules: We want to thank you all for helping us break new ground in our study of Cauldron Lake.
Diana: That’s right, Jules. But don’t let our exciting work in Threshold regulation and dimensional coupling keep you from observing the proper safety protocols.
Jules: You said it, Diana. We run a tight ship here at the Lake House. So always remember the three S’s. Safety, security and censorship.
Diana: That’s a C. That’s a C.
Jules: Ha ha, that is the joke, Diana!
Diana: Well it’s a stupid fucking joke —
Female Voice: … wonderful joke, Jules. We’ll see you down there!
Estevez: Yeah, that seems healthy.
Estevez: That’s handy. An experiment? That bodes well.
Estevez: It’s locked.
Estevez: Dr. Marmont’s not here. Nobody is. I’ll have to check downstairs. They must all be working on the lower levels. I’ll need to head on. Changing passwords, huh?
Estevez: This should come in handy.
Estevez (V.O.): As soon as I got in that elevator, my bad news detector started going nuts.
Estevez: Estevez to team, something is going on in the Lake House. I want all nearby agents to head — Oh shit!
Elevator: Sublevel one.
FBC Agent: Ma’am? What’s going on? Agent Estevez, what’s your status?
Security System: Breach detected on sublevel 5. Staff should seek shelter immediately.
Estevez: We have a situation in the Lake House. All agents, converge on the facility now!
FBC Agent: On our way, ma—
Estevez: Ah! Belay that order. Shit.
Estevez (V.O.): A Threshold event had hit the Lake House. It was the Marmont’s problem. Our mission was outside.
Estevez: Where’s the fucking elevator? Okay, okay. Priority one: get the lights on. Standing around in the dark near Cauldron Lake is not smart. What the fuck was that?
Estevez: Doctor Darling? No power.
Estevez: A Power Core receiver. Plugging a core in should get the lights on.
Estevez: This is not a regulation FBC weapon. Can’t open on this side.
Estevez: Jules’ keycard. Could be useful.
Estevez: Ugh. Wish they’d make these things lighter.
Estevez (V.O.): The way I saw it, there was only one way out. Identify the source of the event and contain or eliminate it. Good news, I just had to keep going down. Bad news, the elevator liked to disappear.
Estevez: At least the elevator is back.
Dr. Darling: First off, a huge thank you to everyone here. The Lake House has made amazing strides in researching the AWE here at Cauldron Lake! Great work, team! I wanted to come in person so I could check in on the latest work. I won’t get in the way, and it’s not a review, so no reason to be scared! Do you hear that, Doctors Marmont? While I’m here, I want to focus on the relationship between the Shadow and the AWE site below the lake. The theory that the Shadow even originates from the dimension this threshold is tapping into is compelling. Eventually, I want to understand how this dimension manages to convert subjective elements like art into objective reality. What are the constraints of this phenomenon? Can it, say, create Altered Items or even Objects of Power simply by manifesting them via a piece of art? These are the things we need to know to accurately classify the Shadow. That name is not very scientific. I mean, who came up with that? Shadow? So! Any and all proposals are welcome. Anything testing art’s affect on reality by using the Shadow’s energy is preferred. To find the answers, we’ll first need a lot of data. No wrong answers. And when I return to the Oldest House, I’ll take back anything we end up with to run against a classified project called Hedron to build a comparative dataset. I wish I could tell you more, it’s very, very exciting. Non-physical forces impacting— no,no, sorry, I really can’t. It is… You know what, maybe some of you can come visit. We’ll have to get you clearance, of course, but that would… Maybe that can… You know what, I don’t want to take the entire day talking. The Shadow represents a whole new area of research and I couldn’t be more excited to start digging in. It is a brave new world, people.
Estevez (V.O.): The Lake House’s research went way beyond studying Cauldron Lake’s Threshold. Playing with paranatural forces… it never goes well, Saga. This is exactly why we lock up people like Wake.
Estevez: Fuck! If you can understand me, I am an agent of the Federal Bureau of Control. I can assist you if you take no hostile action against me or any action that can be perceived as hostile. That never fucking works. What the fuck were those things? Okay. Deep breaths. One, two, three, four, five, six.
Estevez (V.O.): You never really get used to the things you see in this job. But you can learn techniques to adjust, to function. Take six deep breaths, then get to work. Find the source, collapse the Threshold.
Elevator: Error. Please hold. Please hold. Please hold.
Estevez: Now where am I? What is that?
The Painting: (strange murmurs)
Estevez: If you can understand me, I am an agent of the Federal Bureau of Control. I can assist you if you take no hostile action against me or any action that can be perceived as hostile. Do you understand?
The Painting: The first time.
Estevez: Well I’ll be damned. So what kind of entity are you?
The Painting: Murderer and victim. The anger.
Estevez: You can speak. That means you probably imprinted on a person or retained some of your former self’s information. Previously human, maybe. Okay, I can work with that. I just had an unpleasant encounter with some other… painted individuals. Any relation?
The Painting: A thousand paintings. Hues. Crude.
Estevez: What does that mean?
The Painting: Paint! No brush! A self-portrait!
Estevez: Hey! Calm down.
The Painting: FIRE IN HIS EYES AND HANDS AND BONES!
Estevez: You need to cease all hostility right — now. Bad news: that thing is really pissed off. Good news: it didn’t try to kill me. Baby steps.
Estevez (V.O.): Angry living paintings are not typically on the Cauldron Lake Bingo card. Something different was happening at the Lake House and I couldn’t let it escape. Bright Falls didn’t need this particular cherry on its already shitty sundae.
Elevator: Sublevel 3.
Estevez: This isn’t the floor I wanted. Fucking elevator.
Diana: September 12th, 2023, notes regarding a page of an Alan Wake manuscript I found in the archives. I checked the records and this page is not in our inventory. I believe it manifested inside the Lake House directly. I won’t be filing this page. It will just send Jules into a panic. The page is written in Wake’s usual style, so I can’t say for certain if it’s being literal or figurative when it calls us “monsters”. But what’s interesting is that the page indicates that a painting succeeded in linking Cauldron Lake’s Threshold with our facility. Writing has always been the clearly superior avenue of research, but I never considered that the writing itself would dictate a different art form as the catalyst for our success. I can’t accept that. I can’t allow Jules to stumble his way into success. Not after the years of work I put into this research. I got word yesterday that two writers are visiting Bright Falls. I will beat Jules to the finish line.
Diana: “There was a crack in the Lake House. The Marmonts had let the lake in, but the water could not flow. It became trapped, stagnant. Went bad. The truth was controlled here. The art was not art. Just content for the experiment.”
Estevez: Typewriters? Oh, please don’t let this be what I think it is.
Estevez (V.O.): As you know by now, typewriters and Cauldron Lake do not mix. And a room full of them, all clacking away? One hundred percent bad news.
Diana: March 7th, 2018, notes regarding Dr. Emil Hartman. Founder of the Cauldron Lake Lodge, where he manipulated artists in an attempt to control the power of the Shadow. I’ve gone through his notes, which were confiscated by the Bureau after his arrest in 2010. Overall, Hartman’s work was sloppy. Complete disregard for proper scientific method. But he was bold enough to try something we haven’t. Our procedural writing machines are promising, but we could understand the effect of Cauldron Lake’s Threshold much better by observing live artists in action. Thanks to Hartman we even have a list of prospects. Next step is to send Dr. Darling a request to bring some in to the Lake House for analysis.
Estevez: Ah, shit. I can never say no to extra firepower. Back where I started. Spatial recurrence. Usually observes the Law of Three.
Diana: “This contrived Overlap rebounded on itself. Compressing. Compounding. Reflecting and refracting. An urban legend and a murder in constant imbalance. Cause and effect hopelessly tangled. Arranged wrong, the dream logic flawed, the feedback loop doubled and redoubled. Out of control. The pressure kept building, looking for release.”
Estevez: Damn. The Shadow is here. Good thing I brought a flashlight.
Taken: We’re out of Bright Falls Blend. Plastic deer mask.
Estevez (V.O.): Some staff down there had been corrupted. Shit just kept getting worse.
Estevez: Loop three. Should be the last one.
Diana: I keep coming back to this page. The author is clearly Wake. It’s like he’s warning us. But about what? What does it mean? This page scared Jules away from the work on Wake’s writing. The coward can’t stand risk. But Science is risk. For me, this is proof that we are going in the right direction. I just need Rudolph Lane’s paintings to lead to more pages so that hopefully one day we can understand.
Estevez: What is that?
Estevez: Huh. Controllable shifting phenomena.
Estevez: You again. What happened to you? Did the people here do this to you?
The Painting: Marmonts. Clogging his head.
Estevez: Alan Wake’s writing is being studied here. Do you know anything about him?
The Painting: Names don’t matter. A thousand more to come.
Estevez: They say clear communication is the key to any relationship. You and I have some work to do there. You said “Marmonts” before. Did they do this? Where are they now?
The Painting: Mystery! Hate!
Estevez: Tell me where they are.
The Painting: A MAN IN A WHITE COAT!
Estevez: Christ! It’s fixated on the Marmonts. What did they do?
Estevez (V.O.): A Threshold is the connection between a foreign reality and our own. They all have their own rules, strange as they are. But the further down I went, the more chaotic this one got. Clearly this was the Cauldron Lake Threshold, but something was wrong. Well, more wrong than usual.
Elevator: Sublevel two.
Announcement: Level-wide lockdown in effect. Please remain calm. Level-wide lockdown in effect. Please remain calm.
Estevez: Wish the elevator would stop moving.
Unknown Voice: (humming)
Estevez: Finally! Someone who isn’t a painting. Hey! Hello! Who are you?
Ed: Sorry, got a flow going. Can we do this later?
Estevez: No, we can not. I’m Agent Kiran Estevez. I’m with the government and I need your name.
Ed: Ugh. I’m Ed Booker, the playwright. And I’m hitting my stride here, so can you guys stop with all that banding and screaming? It’s throwing me off.
Estevez: Where do you think you are right now?
Ed: In an immersive writing workshop.
Estevez: Well, bad news, it’s not a writing workshop. Good news, it’s not a writing workshop!
Ed: Right. It’s a government facility studying the power of creativity. That makes way more sense.
Estevez: Look around you. How is this a workshop?
Ed: You have to stay in character. I get that. I’m in the theater business too. And look, the sets, the costumes, all great in that, you know, campy 70’s sci-fi kind of way. But you could dial down the roleplaying like fifteen, twenty percent. Just some professional advice.
Estevez: What are you even doing? What are you writing?
Ed: Well, after you all “abducted” me in the woods, I’ve been working on this manuscript you gave me because you need it for some experiment or something? I kind of forget the premise. But you know, I’ve had this block lately and filling in the gaps of this story has really loosened me up. Copying the style is a nice constraint, but I still have lots of room to play. It’s a solid creative exercise!
Estevez: Sir, whether you’re aware of it or not, there is a situation here. I need you to stay in your cell until I can resolve the matter, okay?
Ed: Uh-huh, got it. Hey, no one has been around with food for a while. I could go for some dinner when you have a second. Oh, and can I get my phone back? I want to call my wife. I don’t know how Tammy found you guys, but she killed it. Five stars, all around.
Estevez: Yeah, I’ll get right on that.
Ed: The shadow monsters represent capitalism, which means the flashlight is the power of the artist. Sheer creativity tearing through the shadowy cloak of corporate cookie-cutter bullshit. Killer metaphor. This is good stuff. The style is a little clipped, but I can work with that. Short. To the point. Visceral metaphors. Dark imagery. The government is spreading darkness. Trying to control the uncontrollable. It speaks to climate change, oppression, the disenfranchisement of immigrant, minority populations. Lots of heavy themes in a dark sci-fi wrapper. Love it.
Estevez: I wonder what happened here.
Rudolf: I can’t paint anymore. I know you want me to paint, but I can’t. I’m empty.
Jules: Rudolf, no! You love to paint. And you are such a talent! This is just the classic artist slump.
Rudolf: No, I… I hate it. It’s just taking from me now. When can I leave?
Jules: Ah, Rudolf, but you volunteered to come, remember? We are helping you, like Dr. Hartman did. Perhaps you need to see our doctor? I can arrange that.
Rudolf: No, no, that’s… I am feeling better. Much better. I will paint.
Jules: Ah, this is wonderful to hear, Rudolf. I knew you would come back to your old self.
Estevez: More Shaded. I hope that glass is thick.
Estevez: A higher access card. Sorry, but I need this.
Estevez: How many paintings did they have this guy make?
Estevez: There. Without HQ, more situations like this will fall through the cracks. I’m glad someone here stood up to them.
Announcement: Lockdown lifted. You are now safe to resume working.
FBC Agent: Estevez, come in. (static) the facility. (static) sublevel one. (static) you copy?
Estevez; No, turn back! Area is extremely hostile! Fucking radios. They’re on floor one. They’ll need help.
Jules: I had a thought today. A possible avenue for further research. When we think of art successfully affecting reality, we always think of Alan Wake and his writing. This could be due to recency bias, or simply the amount of recorded evidence skewing our opinion, but also I wonder if writing’s very nature is an advantage. Text can describe events in such explicit detail. The story gives the Shadow a, how you say, blueprint, a map, of what to make real. But not all art is like this. Music, sculpture, dance, cuisine. In our case, a painting. When the source material is open to interpretation, how will the Shadow choose to interpret it? I think Diana will find the question very interesting. Most likely she already has an answer. That is why I love her.
Estevez (V.O.): My team was on sublevel on. I knew they were in danger. The marmonts turned innocent people into tools using the FBC’s authority. They thought they were untouchable out here, hidden away in the woods. Actions have consequences. And I’m the consequences.
Elevator: Sublevel one.
Jules: Heads of Research!
Estevez: You fucking bastard!
Estevez (V.O.): Jules Marmont killed my team. He was Taken by the Shadow.
Estevez: I’m sorry.
Estevez: I should get that gun while I’m up here.
Dr. Darling: I mean that name isn’t really scientific. I mean who came up with that? Shadow…
Jules: He comes to my lab and treats me like some kind of assistant! Un putain d’assistant, moi? I run the Lake House! This is my facility! Mine! He cannot just walk in for one week, make some speeches, then fly back to New York. Espèce de crétin! Prétentieux! The jackass thinks he is a fuckign rock star! And he made fun of the name! Ooh, the Shadow. The Shadow is good! It’s evocative! He is just a jealous spoiled little child and I will make it so everyone can see this! I will make it so no one even remembers his name. Et tous ces imbéciles, là! They all think I am a pencil pusher. They all think I do not have the mind for such work. Eh bien, ils verront! I will take what they think is possible and I will break it!
Estevez: Doesn’t even faze them…
Estevez: This should get me down to sublevel 5. And THIS should get me past any other problems.
Estevez (V.O.): The Shadow had changed Jules Marmont into a hostile paranatural entity. That made everything simpler. No arrest. No paperwork. I could put him down like the monster he was.
Elevator: Sublevel two.
Jules: Lane was found dead in his cell this morning. It’s a… an unfortunate setback. But! When a door is closed, a window is opened. I believe that is the saying. Lane may be gone, but he left us with a goodbye present. A final piece of art. This piece is different. It is raw emotion. Pure truth. He put everything he had into this one. Literally. Every reading we take is off the charts. This is what we have been waiting for. It is the key! I will achieve what no one has before me. Not Darling, that arrogant shit. Not my selfish harpy of a wife. So we have a painter and a painting that can talk… Clearly connected. But Lane was dead before any of this even happened. I never needed any of them. The fools will finally see me for the genius I am.
Elevator: Sublevel three.
Diana: Jules’ team has found new pages written by Wake. He must have gotten Rudolf Lane painting again. His pedestrian bullshit methodology can NOT produce results before mine. I have to go faster, no matter the cost. We’re still behind our projections. The more the machines can produce, the closer we can calibrate them to Wake’s style. But proper calibration takes a lot of raw material and production is slow. No. We’re changing directions. The hypothesis remains unchanged: imitating Wake’s writing style will allow us to generate art capable of linking with the Threshold. Our live subject should match Wake’s style much faster. People can be calibrated just like a machine, you simply have to push the right buttons.
Elevator: Please hold. Please hold. Please hold.
Estevez: This is not level four.
Estevez: The Marmonts were holding a painter here. Rudolf Lane. Does that ring a bell?
The Painting: The shape of a man.
Estevez: I think you are, or were, Rudolf Lane.
The Painting: Himself! A self-portrait! Make them see!
Estevez: Look, I might be able to help you, but I need information. Cooperation.
The Painting: NO BRUSH, JUST HIMSELF!
Elevator: Sublevel four.
Estevez: Gotta find that elevator. Hm. Nice office. Come on. Black Rock powder. Need to keep an eye out for more of these.
Lyrics: Deep breaths Deep breaths
Clocks stopped
And another shoe has dropped
What a mess (what a mess)
Deep breaths
6 deep breaths
Forget all the rest
Sharp pain (sharp pain)
There’s something in the way
What next
Sharp pain
Deep breaths
6 deep breaths
Forget all the rest
Go (Go)
Gotta let go (Go)
Of everything that I’ve ever known
(Deep breaths)
Slow
Gotta take it slow
‘Cause that’s the fastest way that I know
Deep breaths
6 deep breaths till the pain subsides
6 deep breaths till I’m fine (I’m fine)
6 deep breaths swallow all my pride
And just like that
Just like that
I’ve arrived
I feel like I’m floating on air
I’m finding roads everywhere
I feel like I’m floating on air
The Nightmare can’t have my dream
I feel like I’m floating on air
I’m finding roads everywhere
I feel like I’m floating on air
The Nightmare can’t have
Can’t have my dream
Cannot have my dream
Gaslight
Something isn’t right
Might be best to fail the test
Deep breaths
6 deep breaths
Forget all the rest
Road block
Feels like my heart already stopped
Too much stress
Bones to reset
Deep breaths
6 deep breaths
Forget all the rest
Go (Go)
I’ve gotta let go (Go)
Of everything that I’ve ever known
Deep breaths
Slow
Gotta take it slow
Cause that’s the fastest way that I know
Deep breaths
6 deep breaths till the fear subsides
6 deep breaths till I’m mine (I’m mine)
6 deep breaths you can wait outside
And just like that
Just like that
I’ve arrived
I feel like I’m floating on air
I’m finding roads everywhere
I feel like I’m floating on air
The Nightmare can’t have my dream
I feel like I’m floating on air
I’m finding roads everywhere
I feel like I’m floating on air
The Nightmare can’t have
Can’t have my dream
You can’t have my dream
You can’t have my dream (Can’t have my dream)
You can’t have my dream (Can’t have my dream)
6 deep breaths
Forget all of the rest
You can’t have my dream
And the cage is the sky
That suddenly showed me how to fly
You can’t have my dream
Can’t have my dream (The nightmare)
Can’t have my dream
(espace)
Diana: September 13th, 2023, notes regarding the concept of the tortured artist. A romanticized image of the sensitive artistic temperament, yes, but there may be truth in the cliche. It’s no secret Rudolf Lane has been unhappy here for years, but the aggregate data shows his art’s viability score trending upward over time. If Jules hadn’t neglected to hold regular psychological exams then we could have quantified the subject’s emotion state, creating a sort of “distress rating” to compare against the art’s score. I’ll make this a subgoal of my study of Edward Booker. Once we set the variables and establish a control reading of his art and mental state, then we can begin inducing negative emotion. Limited food and water, perhaps. An increasingly tight living space? This is how Jules lost his subject though. Need to be careful not to leave any sharp objects in Booker’s cell.
Jules: Progress!
Estevez: Ah!
Diana: He booked the lab! Some big experiment tomorrow! I can’t find any details anywhere. The bastard is hiding them. All those years he steals credit for my ideas, my work, and now he’s scared of being plagiarized. That is really fucking rich, Jules! And he’s reportedly “misplaced” the manuscript pages I need for my work. Suddenly the exact pages I need to reference have just vanished. He is actively impeding critical Bureau research! I mean, if he can do that then what is stopping me from going down to that lab, and, I don’t know, inverting the amplifiers or, or, or misaligning the receivers, or both?! It’s the same thing, in principle!
Estevez: This doesn’t look like Lane’s style. A different artist?
Estevez: A light switch cord…?
Estevez (V.O.): A quick lesson on light switch cords. If you find one, pull it three times.
Estevez (V.O.): The Oceanview Motel is a dimensional intersection. The doors from the lobby can lead anywhere. But I didn’t end up in the lobby this time, which was definitely unusual.
Estevez: “Panopticon”? But the Panopticon is at… headquarters.
P6: I’m outside. In a forest. The sun is shining. Birds are calling. I feel dirt beneath my feet. A breeze. Everything smells like rain. I’m not here. I’m in a forest. Sunlight on my face. Birds are flying past. Leaves rustle in the wind. In a forest. Not here. Sunlight. Trees everywhere. A field of wildflowers. Not here. Not here. Not here. I’m in the forest. The sun is shining…
Estevez: I’m Agent Kiran Estevez, Federal Bureau of Control. Identify yourself.
P6: I’m… It’s quiet.
Estevez: Who are you?
P6: It’s been a long time since I’ve seen anyone.
Estevez: This is a FBC containment unit. Why is the Bureau detaining you?
P6: I’m where I belong.
Estevez: Everyone I meet here is either a painting or a paracriminal. There’s a sign over there for the Panopticon. The Panopticon’s only in New York, in HQ. Is this the Oldest House?
P6: I think… that’s where I am.
Estevez: So you are inside the Oldest House? Is anyone else alive?
P6: I’m there. Home. Prison. Never left. Can’t return. I… can’t… Don’t hear. Mistake. Can’t escape.
Estevez: This is a waste of time. This is important. FBC headquarters went dark four years ago. What exactly happened in there?
P6: We were attacked. Was it me? It was them. Asleep. Awake. Wide awake. Trapped. Free. Dreaming. Suffocating. No. Did I do it? Not again. Can’t remember. Remember too much. Not yet. No, no, no, no —
Estevez: Hey! Stay with me. Stay with me.
P6: Okay… okay…
Estevez: What attacked the Oldest House? I need to know.
P6: Something’s changing. Outside. Can you feel it? I can hear it. It’s getting worse. You can’t stay, can you?
Estevez: Hold on (altered speech) I need to know if (altered speech).
P6: Tell Jesse I tried… I really did.
Estevez: Was that really the Oldest House? It felt wrong somehow. At least my voice is back to normal.
The Painting: THE COLOR WAS PURE! THE FIRE!
Estevez: Ohh Jesus! Hha. Ah. One. Two. Three. Four.
Elevator: Sublevel five.
Estevez: Five. Six. Oh, hell.
Estevez (V.O.): The Marmonts had opened the door into Cauldron Lake’s Threshold. It was forced. It was unstable. Shutting the experiment down was the only option.
Jules: Their home! Cut the painter open.
Diana: Diana innovated.
Estevez: Typical fucking Marmonts! Why did you idiots think this was a good idea? The Threshold’s about to fracture.
The Painting: The paint! No!
Estevez: I know what the Marmonts did to you – to Rudolf Lane.
The Painting: Blood!
Estevez: I’ll do whatever I can to make sure this kind of thing doesn’t happen again.
The Painting: A putrid weight he could never wash away!
Estevez: The Marmonts are dead. I don’t know if that’s any sort of consolation, but it’s done.
The Painting: The paint. It was all over him.
Estevez: The Threshold is tearing itself apart. I need to shut this down. Look, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t make a choice here. It’s not fair. But I have to shut this Threshold down before it fractures.
The Painting: Murderer!
Alan: Agent Estevez stood in the forest just outside of Bright Falls. She watched her team detain Alan Wake and Ilmo Koskela, stuffing them into black SUVs.
Estevez: Hey! Wake!
Alan: She realized this was the moment Wake had been writing in the vision she had seen. The story was coming true. She pushed the thought out of her head. It had been a good tip, a way to find Wake. Nothing more.
Estevez: Alan Wake!
Estevez (V.O.): After the Threshold even collapsed, I was back at Cauldron Lake. But for a moment, I was somewhere else. I saw Alan Wake there. He was writing about me finding him in Bright Falls, in the woods. It was a good tip. I called the surviving members of my team, and I told them to meet me there. You know, these cases, they never get less ambiguous or easier, but this one was tough. Because protocol says entities like the Taken are monsters. Threats. But the Marmonts were monsters way before the Shadow got to them. So at the end of the day, what’s the difference?