Act 5 - Curtains

It was another gray day drifting over the city, and the rain had finally stopped. The air was still fresh, almost cold, as if the events of the previous day had somehow put the world around them on pause. Cedric, Eliza, and Marcus sat at a small table in an unassuming café near their hideout. Sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing the room in a subdued glow that, for a moment, pushed the horrors of the warehouse into the background.

Cedric sipped his coffee as he watched the street outside. The silence between them was almost pleasant, as though each was trying to shake off the tension of the previous day. Eliza flipped through one of the reports she had compiled on the Puppeteer's latest discoveries after the incident. Marcus, now somewhat more at ease, stared at his laptop, reviewing the encrypted data once more. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though everything was back to normal.

"I think we're on the right track," Marcus finally said, sliding the laptop a little closer to Eliza. "The coordinates from the last message... I mean, we're heading in the right direction. It's starting to become clearer what the Puppeteer is planning."

Eliza nodded, though it was obvious she was still deep in thought. She pulled a note from her pocket and stared at it, as if she might discover something new, something she had missed before.

But Marcus's voice broke the silence again. "Wait a second..." he said, reaching into his bag. "The second letter..." His expression shifted as his hand suddenly rested on the bag where he had safely stored the message. "Where is it?"

The sudden panic in his voice made Cedric and Eliza look up at the same time.

"What do you mean, where is the letter?" Eliza asked, her voice calm, but a trace of concern flickered in her eyes.

"The second letter," Marcus repeated, his voice growing more unsettled. "I read it just last night, and now... it's gone. I... I had it in my bag, but it's not there anymore. It's like it just vanished."

Cedric set his cup down, and for a moment, silence hung in the air. The words Marcus had spoken lingered, unnoticed by the quiet murmurs of the other café patrons.

"That... that can't be," Eliza murmured as she leaned closer to Marcus, peering into the bag from which the letter had supposedly vanished. "You didn't lose it, did you?"

Marcus shook his head, his nervousness palpable. "I swear, I still had it. Someone must have come in during the night... or... it somehow disappeared. We were juggling too much at the time…"

Eliza ran a hand through her hair, exhaling deeply. Her gaze shifted from Marcus to Cedric and back again. Cedric had his arms crossed and was staring down at the table.

"It's not the end of the world," Cedric said suddenly, his voice calm—almost too calm. "There will be a way to get the letter back. Maybe it's just lost somewhere in all this chaos. We'll keep going."

Eliza lifted her head, staring at him. Something in his tone, in his demeanor, was different from usual. In a moment like this, she expected anger or frustration, the kind she was used to from him. But instead, he was... calm. Almost too calm. Too composed.

"So you're not worried that we might have just lost everything we've figured out so far?" Her voice wavered slightly, and her eyes narrowed as she studied him.

Cedric looked up, and for a moment, it felt as though he truly saw her. Then he nodded and said with an unusual softness, "No. Don't worry about it. You should stay positive. We're not at the end. We'll find another way, but this won't stop us. You don't need to worry, Eliza."

For a moment, silence hung between them as Eliza stared at him, as if trying to decipher something in his expression, something that didn't add up. There was a flicker in Cedric's eyes, a glimmer of something she had never seen before, leaving her with an uneasy feeling. It was as though he was trying to hide something—something he didn't want them to see.

Her hand clenched into a fist, and suddenly, a tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, struggling to hold herself together. "It doesn't feel like it. It feels like it's all been for nothing," she said softly, almost a whisper.

Yet Cedric, who would usually snap at her for showing emotion, didn't even flinch. Instead, he looked at her, a faint, inexplicable smile crossing his face. "It'll get better," he said, and it didn't sound like comfort. It sounded more like a quiet certainty, as if he was searching for truth in his own words.

"You'll see, Eliza," he continued, his voice now as gentle as she had never expected it to be. "We're not on the wrong path. We just have to keep moving forward."

Eliza remained silent, and Marcus stared at both of them. The room around them suddenly felt smaller, as if the walls had closed in on them. Cedric was... different. This wasn't the Cedric she knew—the Cedric who was never afraid to show his anger or frustration. The Cedric who always had a sarcastic remark ready. But now... he was calm, almost eerily soothing.

It was unsettling.

"But what if the Puppeteer has outmaneuvered us?" Marcus whispered the question into the silence, and Eliza looked up, waiting for Cedric's response. Yet instead of his usual sharp-witted remark, Cedric simply glanced down at the table, barely perceptibly, before replying.

"Then... we'll just take the next step," he said at last. "That's all. We can't control everything. But we'll keep moving forward."

Eliza, still searching for a trace of the Cedric she knew, shook her head and stood up. "I'm sorry," she murmured as she left the room. She needed space. Something felt off, and she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

And as Cedric remained behind, a faint smile on his lips that wasn't really a smile, Marcus sat in silence, staring at the empty cup in front of him.

Cedric left the café and wandered slowly through the streets, without any real destination in mind. The rain had stopped, but the haze of the night lingered heavily in the air. It felt as though he was walking through a fog, one that distorted the world around him. Everything he had said to reassure Eliza surprised even himself. Stay positive, he had told her. Don't worry.

He didn't understand why he had said it. Why had he told her that? Why had he been so calm in that moment? Normally, he would have let his anger out, venting it through sarcasm or a sharp comment. But instead, he had been calm. Too calm. Almost like someone else.

His destination was the hideout, the place where they had temporarily taken refuge. When he closed the door behind him and the silence of the room enveloped him, he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it carelessly onto a chair. The room was quiet, and in that moment of stillness, something within him snapped. He slammed his fist against the wall. The loud thud echoed through the room, and Cedric stared at his hand, now slightly aching. But the pain was nothing compared to the turmoil inside him.

He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. Why had he said that to her? Why had he given her hope when he had none himself? A deep anger rose within him—anger at himself, at the words he had spoken.

For a moment, he stood there, his breath heavy in the silent room. Then, almost inaudibly, he whispered to himself, "What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Damn it!" he shouted, staring at the floor. "Why... why did I do that?"

For a moment, he was nothing but rage—pure, raw anger and frustration. But then he stopped, took a deep breath, and something inside him began to shift. It wasn't immediately noticeable, more like a quiet, barely perceptible tingling.

His hand, still aching, slowly lowered. The fury within him started to dissipate, and instead of the familiar bitterness he had carried for years, a new feeling emerged—one that overwhelmed him. It was... friendship.

"What is this...?" Cedric murmured into the stillness of the room as the thought struck him. He had never really had friends. No one he could trust. No one he had ever truly opened up to. But now... now he felt it. He wasn't alone anymore. They all—Eliza, Marcus—were part of his life. It was this inexplicable, unexpected connection that had suddenly grown within him, threatening to crush him with its weight.

"Damn..." he whispered, and the frustrated, angry expression that had dominated the room only moments before began to change. It wasn't sadness, nor was it anger anymore. It was a smile. A genuine, deep smile. It wasn't triumphant or sarcastic—it was simply a moment of understanding. A moment of realization.

"Maybe this... this is the right thing," he said quietly to himself as he leaned back against the wall, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Maybe this is what I've needed all along. And now... now I know I'm not alone anymore."

The smile lingered on his lips, and for the first time in his life, he felt as though he had found something he had never sought—the chance to truly connect with others.

The door creaked open softly, and Eliza stepped in, her footsteps echoing gently in the quiet room. She had spent the last few hours clearing her head, and after Cedric had left, she realized she owed him more than she had admitted. The room was almost silent; the faint clinking of glasses and the flickering lamp on the wall were the only sounds breaking the stillness.

Cedric remained leaning against the wall, his head lowered, as though he had just gained a profound understanding of himself. But as he heard Eliza enter, he stood still and turned slowly to face her. His expression was still serious, but the smile that had surfaced in the past few minutes lingered.

"Cedric..." Eliza stepped closer, lowering her gaze briefly before meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier. I was too impulsive, too... too impatient. I should've listened to you more, should've... handled it differently."

Cedric stared at her for a moment. Her apology was unexpected, and it jolted him out of his introspection. Normally, he would have brushed off her attempt, maybe even thrown in a sarcastic remark. But this time, it was different. Something inside him had shifted—something he didn't entirely understand but could undeniably feel.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he said calmly, a trace of ease evident in his voice. "It happens. You're human. And besides..." He paused, stepping toward her. "I accept your apology, Eliza. I didn't expect it, but I get what you mean."

Eliza looked up, surprised by his reaction. For a moment, she hesitated, noticing the smile on his face—a genuine smile, not one of his usual, bitterness-tinged grins. It was a moment of revelation, one that showed her he was truly opening up, meeting her in a way she had never seen before.

"Thank you, Cedric," she whispered, a hint of genuine relief in her voice. "That means more than you think." She took another small step closer and lightly placed her hand on his arm. "It feels good to know you're here. That you're really here for us. We're truly a team now, aren't we?"

"Yes," Cedric said, his voice now clear, almost gentle. "That's what friends do. They're there for each other, no matter what. And that's what I'll do, Eliza. I'll be here—for you and Marcus. Don't worry."

The words sounded so different, so new. Even Cedric could hardly believe how much his own behavior had changed. The doubts that had always gnawed at him began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of connection—something he had never truly known before. Friendship. Honest, real friendship.

Eliza nodded slowly, and for a moment, they just stood there. The silence between them no longer felt heavy but carried a sense of peace. "Thank you," she said again, her voice softer than before.

Cedric met her gaze and returned the smile forming on her lips. "You don't need to worry," he added, a final thought rising within him as they faced each other. "I'm not the only one opening up."

The sound of the doorbell rang out, and Eliza's eyes widened in surprise. It was late, and she hadn't been expecting anyone. She moved to the door, opened it cautiously, and froze at the sight before her.

Standing there was their superior, Sir Jonathan Harrington. A sharp jolt of shock ran through her as she noticed Marcus standing behind him, his eyes cast nervously to the ground.

"Sir Jonathan?" Eliza's surprise was evident, and she couldn't hide her astonishment. Their relationship with him had always been formal and distant, and seeing him here, at their door, was the last thing she expected.

"Eliza," said Jonathan with a smile that was as charming as it was piercing. "The little one led me here." Marcus took a step back, looking apologetically at Eliza, as if silently asking for forgiveness for what he had done. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Jonathan barely acknowledged him. Instead, he focused all his attention on Eliza as he continued, "I've found a clear interest in you, Eliza. After seeing the television report about the warehouse incident, I simply had to know more." He stepped closer, his voice now more intense. "It was your face that day. Your determination, your strength... I can't stop thinking about you, day and night."

Eliza didn't know what to make of it. Her pulse quickened as she sensed something deeper behind his words. There was something different about him, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't here just to support her—he had ulterior motives.

"I want you back in the main unit, Eliza. At my side. As my right hand," Jonathan said finally. He leaned forward slightly, fixing her with an intense, almost hypnotic gaze. "You can have anything you desire. Wealth, power, fame—all of it is within your reach if you work with me."

Eliza stared at him, and for a moment, everything went quiet. Her thoughts raced as she tried to process his words. Did she really have the chance to change her life completely? Everything he promised seemed so close—but at what cost?

A long silence passed as Eliza thought deeply. Cedric, standing in the background, observed her silently. She felt torn, and the weight of the decision bore down on her.

Finally, she took a deep breath, but then shook her head. "Thank you for the offer, Jonathan," she said calmly, "but I have something you can't give me. I have my friends—the Unchained unit. They're more than just colleagues. We're a team."

Jonathan's face hardened for a moment as he heard her answer. He clearly hadn't expected it, and a hint of frustration flickered across his features. "What a shame," he muttered, but then he gave a soft, almost amused sigh and stepped back. "I won't force you, Eliza. But I want you to know that my services and the entire police unit are always at your disposal. If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room, heavy and oppressive. Eliza nodded, aware that her decision hadn't been an easy one. Jonathan gave her one last, cool glance before turning and stepping out the door.

Eliza exhaled deeply, turning to find Cedric's gaze fixed on her. He had been watching her closely. "Thank you," she said softly, feeling the support she needed in his steady eyes.

Cedric simply nodded, without saying a word. Sometimes, he didn't speak much, but in moments like this, his presence meant more than any words ever could.

After the door clicked shut, a tense silence hung in the room. Eliza took a deep breath, her thoughts racing as she turned toward Cedric. But before she could say anything, Marcus stepped forward.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his hands buried nervously in his pockets. "I really didn't want this, but... when the boss suddenly showed up and asked where you were, I didn't know what to do. He just... pressured me."

Eliza looked at him, her expression softening as she understood what he meant. She could see that Marcus felt bad, but she couldn't blame him. What could he have done? When the chief of police personally asks for something, it's hard to refuse.

"Marcus, it's totally okay," she said calmly, taking a step toward him. "What else could you have done? If the big police chief suddenly asks about me, what can you do? Sure, you could've blown yourself up, but even that wouldn't have helped much."

Marcus looked at her with an apologetic gaze, but she could also see the relief in his expression. "Thanks, Eliza," he said at last, sinking into the sofa with a sigh of relief. "I thought you'd tear me apart."

Eliza sat down as well, shaking her head with a slight smile. "Did you really think I'd be mad at you? You didn't act out of your own free will. I know you're only trying to do what's best for us, Marcus."

Marcus nodded gratefully and exhaled deeply. "Still, it feels weird to upset the chief like that."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Eliza reassured him. "Everything we're doing is for the team, and no one can hold that against us. Not even Jonathan Harrington."

Cedric, who had been standing quietly in the corner until now, let out a loud sigh and placed his hands behind his head. "Jonathan might be the boss, but he doesn't have the right to tear us apart. Not as long as we stick together."

Another silence settled over the room, but this time, it didn't feel uncomfortable. On the contrary, the atmosphere was calm, almost comforting. Eliza felt that she, Marcus, and Cedric were truly on the same side.

"We're a team," Eliza said finally, glancing between the two of them. "And we won't let him or anyone else tear us apart. We've been through worse."

Cedric looked at Eliza thoughtfully before asking his question. "Why are you so determined to fight the Puppeteer? What's driving you to go after him?"

Eliza took a deep breath and sat down, placing her hands on the table in front of her. She had known this question would come sooner or later, and she knew she'd have to confront it eventually. "It's more than just this case," she began quietly, her voice barely audible. "It's about my past. About my father."

Cedric and Marcus looked at her curiously as she continued.

"My father was a psychologist," she explained, "and the Puppeteer was one of his patients. He could never tell me his name or any specific details. All I know is that he was a very difficult case. No one ever really understood why he became the way he was, but my father believed he could help him. He wanted to help him, to understand him."

She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "One day, he came home like he'd seen something horrifying. He was terrified. And I never truly believed him when he said he felt responsible for the Puppeteer, for what he had done. But on the day... the day it happened... the Puppeteer wasn't just his patient anymore. He was the man who murdered my father. That was the Puppeteer's first kill."

Neither Cedric nor Marcus spoke, but Eliza could feel the weight of her words in the air. She glanced at Marcus, then at Cedric, both of whom were listening intently.

"I never really understood what my father went through before he died," she continued. "But now, as I get closer to the Puppeteer, I know I have to stop him—not just for my father. I need to show him that what he's done won't go without consequence. He has to pay for everything. Not just for my father, but for all the lives he's ruined."

For a moment, silence enveloped the room, the gravity of her words settling over all three of them like a heavy cloak. The darkness of the case that connected them was palpable, and Eliza felt a rising sense of resolve within her.

Cedric leaned back, his eyes no longer those of a man who only looked out for his own interests but of someone who had come to understand what it meant to fight for something greater.

"You're doing this for a deeply personal reason," Cedric said at last, his voice soft. "And you're right. This isn't just a fight against a psychopath. It's about something bigger. Something only you truly understand."

Eliza nodded, her eyes stinging slightly as she lowered her head to gather her thoughts. "I don't just want to stop the Puppeteer. I want him to know he won't get away with it. What he did to my father is unforgivable. And what he's doing now... it can't be ignored."

"This won't be an easy goal," Marcus said, his voice a little rough but carrying understanding. "But you have us. We're here to help, right?"

"Exactly," Cedric said, his gaze now steady. "If you're fighting for your father, then we're fighting for you."

A quiet but powerful sense of determination filled the room as they looked at one another. The Puppeteer had affected all of them in different ways, but it was now clear they would stand together. This was more than a job. It was a mission Eliza wouldn't have to carry alone.

"Then we go," Eliza said finally. "We go all the way. And the Puppeteer will pay for what he's done."

Suddenly, the television flickered to life, the image of a dark, dimly lit stage filling the room. A masked man stepped out from the shadows, his presence both eerie and captivating. He wore a gleaming, golden mask that shimmered in the faint light of the stage, and his movements were calm and deliberate.

"Good evening," he said, his voice clear yet cold. "I am the leader of the Puppet Theater. And I welcome you, Cedric, Eliza, and Marcus."

His words were quiet, almost melodic, and seemed to dissolve into the stillness of the room. Yet there was a commanding undertone to his voice that made the air crackle with tension.

"The Puppet Theater is not merely a group of followers," the man continued. "It is the greatest union of those who support the Puppeteer. We, the shadows, the marionettes, are the ones who revere him and carry on his mission. We are the network that pulls the strings. And now... now you have caught our attention."

The man paused briefly, stepping closer to the camera, the light casting his golden mask in a menacing glow.

"We would like to invite you. A banquet, held in the basement of the La Belle Nuit Theater. A place where all true players can come together. The Puppeteer and I would be delighted to host you there. We have much to show you. And I assure you, it will be an event you won't forget."

The man tilted his head, as though personally handing over an invitation. Then, he turned and disappeared back into the shadows as the television screen distorted and finally dissolved into static.

For a moment, there was silence. Eliza, Cedric, and Marcus stared at the television as if still trying to process what had just happened. The tone of the mysterious leader lingered in their minds, and the threat behind his words was unmistakable.

"That's... the Puppet Theater," Eliza whispered, her gaze fixed on the screen. "So the Puppeteer has more people backing him."

"This won't be a harmless meeting," Cedric said grimly, his fists clenched. "We need to be careful."

"But we can't just run away," Marcus added, his voice trembling with both concern and curiosity. "This might be our only chance to learn more about the Puppeteer and his entire organization."

"We're going," Eliza said after a brief pause, her voice resolute. "We don't have a choice. We need to know what they're planning."

Cedric nodded slowly, as if coming to terms with the idea. "Fine. But we're not walking in blind and letting them catch us. If this is a trap, we'll be ready."

The room fell into a heavy silence once more as they began to prepare for what lay ahead. A banquet in the basement of the La Belle Nuit Theater, heralded by a man in a golden mask. And as the darkness of the city enveloped them, they knew this was only the beginning of a much larger game.