“I don’t think you understand how the prison system works” Emilio jokes, pointing the the chain wrapped around his observer’s ankle. “I’m the one that’s supposed to be locked up, not you” the man continues, his counterpart refusing to acknowledge his presence, let alone provide a voice for which Emilio can interact with. “Not much of a talker?” Emilio inquires, his hands chained to the wall just a few short inches away.
“Oh come on, what’s so dangerous about having a little discussion with your subject?” Emilio asks again, the large brute of a man before him still unmoving and unresponsive. Hands placed against the hook protruding from the wall to keep him restrained, Emilio continues attempting to make contact whilst he turns the simplistic hook from one side to another, intending to create give.
After a few minutes of fidgeting combines with an aimless monologue, Emilio ceases his efforts at the sound of metal bars opening up, immediately instigating a flurry of cries for mercy from the captives similarly restrained as Emilio. The soil soft enough to mask the footsteps descending further into the chambers, all Emilio has to go off of is the sound at which the hollers for help travel down the length of the limestone caverns.
Suddenly, the female figure eliciting such a response walks past Emilio’s chambers, in the blink of an eye, entering from one side before disappearing behind another. Again only able to respond to the shouts he can hear, Emilio hushes himself down whilst his chest heaves from the heavy breaths he takes. Finally, the sound of a skeleton key entering the locks of the prison bars emanates, the shouts of help making it easy to locate the one shout of refusal from the depths.
“Please! I beg of you!” the man shouts, the screams of those in captivity remaining unchanged as the pleading man hushes down in a sudden instant. Shouts from beside his prison bars growing silent as the man whom entered slowly trails down the corridor to which he once hurriedly walked. Within moments, the figure returns into Emilio’s view, looking to each side as she carries the decapitated head of her victim by her side, blood dripping from the point it was severed at.
Shocked and disgusted, Emilio simply sits and stares, the figure stopping in the middle of the walkway for a moment and noticing Emilio’s reaction. With a lack of remorse and a calis stare, the figure pulls the head up to her shoulder and brings it to eye level before grotesquely biting its lip. Without concern, the woman returns the head to her side, gliding her thumb across her neck as if to warn Emilio to be careful, disappearing down the remainder of the lengths thereafter.
= Rise is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 3 onwards =
“Thank you all for coming” Dawson greets, the residents of Sun City mostly gathered in the center of the town, awaiting Dawson’s answer in regards to a rumored war being waged. “I know you’re all aware of some rumors, so I’ll just be as upfront with it as we can” Dawson explains, “I’m currently in the process of preparing troops for a hostile takeover of Fisher’s Island.”
The opinion divisive, Dawson is left with a silent audience, patiently awaiting all the information they can obtain. “I understand that this isn’t going to be the most popular decision, but I have confidence it is achievable” Dawson explains, “and as far as we can see now that we have a keener eye on what’s happening inside, I’m more confident in a mission of this scale than I ever have been before.”
Looking towards Jess with a raised eyebrow, Dawson admits to the crowd that he is of the belief that the island has resources necessary to upholding the quality of life Sun City operates. The length of the speech being one of inspiring hope, Dawson finds the response from those that voted him into power with confidence lacking enthusiasm.
“When you ran for the position, you said you’d never go into war without a reason to” one of the many residents inquire, “what do you have to gain from this fight… And what do you have to lose.” Biting his bottom lip, Dawson explains that the answer to the second half of the question is simple, life being the answer every single time. Before continuing, Dawson glances towards Heather again, thinking over his next words very carefully, the crowd unsure of what to make of the prolonged silence.
“We’d gain whatever they have on the island, everything from basic resources to unknown treasures” Dawson explains, continuing to withhold the shortage of gas from the public. Displeased, Heather shakes her head, walking off from the site and returning to her cabin whilst Dawson continues, Ameil taking it as his responsibility to follow after her.
Calling for her to wait, Ameil is left providing himself as the complaint box, Heather turning around to remind him that refusing to inform the people of a problem is wrong. “Everything this place says it stands for is thrown away if the people don’t know what’s going on!” Heather argues, Ameil left with little more than to remind her that it is all for a reason.
“We’re not intending harm on these people by keeping this from them” Ameil explains, the words only angering Heather further, the woman storming off to her home, demanding Ameil stay where he stands. Not one to start an argument over a difference in belief, Ameil does as told, the sound of his friend continuing to answer questions in the background the only sound resonating over the escalating tensions.
Inspecting the camp to get a better understanding of the area, John notices the small pond just a few steps behind the trees, a man and a woman stood at the edge with fishing rods. “You guys with the camp?” John asks, walking through the bramble towards the waterfront, both residents confirming his belief. “I’m Clint, this is my sister, Vanessa” the man replies, leaving anything other than their names hidden for safe keeping.
“I go by Nessie” Vanessa adds, a fleece jacket hiked up her arms as they rest upon a well-built wooden railing. “Do you guys know what the camp is planning on?” John asks, taking interest in the difference between the posture of the pair and that of the remainder of the camp. Those within scrambling to learn how to wield any objects in their immediate surroundings to fight, Nessie and Clint remain on their own, taking the moment beneath a fair afternoon sun to fish.
“Yeah, we’re storming the square whenever you guys give the signal” Nessie replies, the reminder of an upcoming war being mentioned in a rather nonchalant tone. “And instead of preparing to fight, you lot have decided to fish?” John continues, Clint puckering his lips before glancing at his sister, only to direct them back towards John. “Yup” Clint replies, returning to his activities, leaving the man intrigued by their confidence.
Hands to his hips, John nods to himself whilst walking closer to the pair, suddenly pulling his hand up and lunging his palm out towards the woman’s neck. Having taken notice of the man’s approach, Nessie takes her moment when it appears, grabbing John’s hand and twisting his arm backwards, kicking his feet from beneath him before holding a dagger to his throat.
“We’re ready whenever you are” Nessie exclaims, John’s arm still in her hand and dagger gently caressing his chin. Patting the man’s jawline with her blade, Nessie lets the man’s arm fall and returns her dagger to her pocket, Clint having not moved an inch through the entire ordeal. “My sister knows what she’s doing, Mr John” Clint admits, the man pushing himself to his feet and wiping off the dirt and leaves sticking to his clothes.
“Something you should probably know about us is that we come from much the same place as you” Clint explains, “had a place in Vixen County a ways back.” Hearing the name of the long-forgotten settlement, John freezes in place, Clint having to explain that they doesn’t hold the downfall of Sheol against him. “We know your people started a riot that led to the bomb” Clint explains, “we never liked the people or the place anyway, so we probably should thank you.”
Catching his breath, John inquires about the outcome of Vixen County, Clint recalling it like a sad story. “Once Sheol fell and all the leaders failed to report back, people just started leaving” Clint explains, “deliveries weren’t made, and little by little, everyone just left.” Reeling in what bites at the other end of her line, Nessie explains that the place is either sitting vacant nowadays or has been reclaimed by one of many groups.
“So… Sun City is on the other island, and you both chose to stay here?” John asks, Clint and Nessie both shrugging their shoulders. “We take care of ourselves, we don’t need handouts” Nessie explains, “we snuck onto the island, we can sneak off if we wanted to.”
Their conversation cut short, John is called for by Salem, who traverses nature’s fallen fruits of downed branches and leaves to introduce herself to the group’s resident fishermen. “Whatever these guys want, get for them” John explains, his orders to Salem halted with Nessie’s reminder that they don’t need handouts. “Either way, we’re gonna want them fighting for us” John begins again, interrupted by Clint this time around, the man voicing a consideration best left addressed ahead of time.
“I don’t fight” Clint says, John and Salem both confused by the statement. “I don’t kill people” Clint explains, “unlike Vanessa, I was born and raised Catholic… I don’t kill people.” Chuckling to himself, John asks if Clint truly believes in his faith or if this is nothing more than a tactic to avoid gunfire. “I’ll walk into the war zone with my hands up” Clint replies, “even if they could kill me, Vanessa would get to them first.”
Shrugging his shoulders, John leaves the conversation at that, making sure to double check that the woman is willing to go into fight against the pirates. “We chose this place because it didn’t have rules that would keep us from doing what we wanted” Nessie replies, “even at that… We’re not big fans on the people in charge of this place.”
Taking them on their word, John retreats to the campsite, showing a belief in the people within to be ready to fight when the time has come, but finding hope in the outsider influence giving them more leverage than they had prior.
Head pressed against the limestone wall, Emilio stares off at the roof above his head, nothing to pass the time with other than to count the ridges in the material above. After a few minutes, the sound of the crowd begin to whir begins again, the fact of the next victim seemingly beginning to take effect. One cell after another beginning to pur with anticipation, Emilio finally captures the sight of the woman again, her pace stopping in front of his cell, putting him further on edge.
Turning towards the man, the woman stares him down, Emilio pulling himself to his feet, having made peace with what is about to come. With a grunt, turns around one hundred and eighty degrees to Emilio’s dismay, walking for the cell in front of his and unlocking the cold, steel bars. Pleading for her life, the woman just across the dungeon from Emilio climbs to her feet, backing herself against the wall as if it were to swallow her into safety.
Speechless, Emilio stands where he once sat, eyes unable to look away from the sights before him as the butcher grabs her next victim by the hair. Screaming for help, the woman remains shackled to the wall, the butcher ahead of her removing her machete from the sachel on her side before taking a swipe in nearly the same move. From the very top of the back of the her head to her jaw, the presentable side of the woman’s face slides off with a clean swipe.
Half the skull dropping to the ground like a sack of wet meat, what remains is the cross-sectioned portion of what hid behind. Blood oozing from the corpse, the butcher stares down Emilio the entire time, the man left with only deep breaths to proceed. Allowing the body to drop, the butcher retrieves the woman’s face from the ground and returns her machete to her hip.
Sickeningly, the butcher takes the face and bites down on her victim’s lip, allowing the fleshy remains to dangle from her teeth as she leaves the cell and walks out of the cellar. Unable to fully process what he had witnessed just yet, Emilio stands there feeling gross, his hand beginning to resume its efforts to pulling the spike holding his chains to the wall once again.
“How quickly can we move?” Jess asks, sharing the space around the desk huddled beside Heather and Dawson. “We can have them moving within the next three hours” Dawson replies, “they’re ready with firearms, but I don’t want them going while the sun is still out.” Conflicted, Heather begins to push the importance of covering the grounds.
“If any of them are still alive, every inch of that island needs to be covered” Heather explains, Dawson looking in the direction of both Heather herself and Jess. “I gave them the guidelines, they chose to ignore them and got caught up in this mess” Dawson explains, “we’ll look for them, but my priority is clearing out the pirates.”
“We’re the ones that proved how viable an attack was” Jess explains, not having been informed on the delay in which her group would be tended to. Suggesting that Dawson owes the group priority, Jess watches the man snap back, his strategic mind making room for a more hostile one. “I told your people that I wouldn’t go in to save their asses unless they covered half the land” Dawson explains, his tensions rising at the understanding of what he stands to lose.
“Yet here I am, going in to save their asses!” Dawson shouts, “so if anything… You fucks owe me, now get with the plan or get the fuck out!” Calling out to get his friend under control, Ameil has his efforts cast aside, Dawson getting himself under control before continuing with the plan. “What’s the importance of clearing out all of them?” Heather asks, Jess having walked away from the desk, listening into the plan from afar.
“If we leave any stone unturned, they’ll be likely to strike again at a later date” Ameil replies, “they took the land over by force, if they lost it… They’d just come back to regain it with force.”
“Do we know who’s in charge?” Heather proceeds, Dawson hanging his head with a grunt. “I hate how little I can answer that question” Dawson mutters to himself, “of all the people we’ve sent in to do recon, all I’ve got is a name.” Silent, Heather allows her eyes to do to the talking, suggesting her patience for an answer. Looking up to Ameil, Dawson gets a nod from his friend before answering the question.
“Her name is Dakota, but it sounds like people refer to her as the butcher” Dawson replies, “some sicko that likes to present herself by chopping the people she doesn’t like into pieces.” Tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek, Heather asks about how they figured out that last piece of information.
“She found one of our spies a few months ago” Ameil replies, “sent a boat out to our coastline with his body all sliced up into literal bite-sized bits.” Eyes narrowing, Heather asks herself how someone could chop a head into bits, unaware she had asked herself the question aloud. “We wouldn’t know” Dawson replies, Ameil taking over to confess to Heather that they never found his head.
Growing impatient, Jess asks how any of this information helps, a question which leaves Dawson and Ameil frustrated. “We have no idea what we’re walking into, or even who we’re looking for!” Dawson exclaims, “if we have to spend the next hour covering every base to make sure no stone is left unturned, that’s what we’re going to do!”
“We have no hours to waste!” Jess shouts, “Emilio is already in captivity, our group is scattered and my husband disappeared into the woods with a suicide mission to execute!” Slamming his fist against the table, Dawson leaves the table, getting in Jessica’s face before confessing the harsh truth to her. “Your husband should’ve listened to me when I told him not to go forward with this war!” Dawson shouts, completely losing his composure and taking an honest approach.
“As for your people, I don’t give a fuck about them!” Dawson explains, “I gave you all a choice to be stupid or smart, and you all chose to be stupid!” Rolling her eyes, Jess walks away from the man as he continues, refusing to stop himself just because she doesn’t want to hear the truth. “If Emilio was caught, he’s probably dead by now anyway… And he’s got no one to blame but himself!” Dawson shouts, “as for your husband, he shouldn’t have been such a fucking idiot!”
Not willing to hear anymore, Jess turns around and throws her elbow into Dawson’s face, the community’s leader stumbling back until collapsing into the table and falling to the floor. Having had enough of this falling out, Ameil steps away from the table and directs Jess out. “We’re not putting up with shit like that here!” Ameil explains, “I don’t care where the fuck you go, just get the fuck out of this house!”
Happy to oblige, Jess turns towards the door and steps into the rest of the community, slamming the door on her way out as Dawson pulls himself back up. “If she’s gonna be this ungrateful, we’re gonna toss her out on her ass!” Dawson mutters to Heather, the woman left to hang her head and nod, accepting the stakes laid out and directing those remaining towards the plan as originally stated.
Pacing around the camp, John observes the survivors skill improving with each attempt, those left without the undead to fear quickly removing the rust from their abilities. “It’s scary how easy it is to forget about the undead out here” Katie mutters, her shoulders pressed against a fence behind her, watching with glee at the group continue to improve. Opening his mouth to respond, John shares the same expression as Katie once the sound of Caruso hurrying towards them takes effect.
“You need to hide!” the man exclaims, shoving the pair into a makeshift home as the remainder of the community suddenly turns quiet. “What the hell was that all about!?” Katie whispers, her question hushed by John, who peers through a small opening into the wider group. Walking into the property, three armed men survey the area, one directing his attention towards the lake whilst the other two look on in shock at how strange the survivors appear.
“What’s going on here?” one of the guards inquires, the entire group falling to a hush, preferring to die keeping the secret than to live to sell John’s group out. “Do I need to ask again?” the guard proceeds, he and his fellow overseers looking around for anything out of the ordinary. In an attempt to intimidate those residing in the camp, the guard yet to speak removes his blade and runs it down the cheek of one survivor after another, sharing the stare of death.
“I don’t want to have to ask ag-” the first guard calls out, stopping himself suddenly as his counterpart inquires of the reasoning. Without a word, the first guard clutches at the side of his neck, the fishing hook dug into his jugular suddenly torn out to allow the ground to be painted in his blood. The situation suddenly severe, the first guard staggers around, looking towards the man he entered with to find Nessie wrapping her fishing line around his throat.
Pulling the man back, Nessie pushes herself against a tree, suffocating the man as the first guard removes his gun. Three bullets fired, Nessie allows the man being choked to take the gunfire, walking him forward before throwing him into the man firing off. Gun knocked from his hands, the guard falls to the ground with blood still spurting from his throat. Wiping her hands clean, Nessie finishes the job by stomping upon his throat, crushing his larynx beneath the sole of her boot.
Emerging from the lake, Clint drags Nessie’s first victim by the ankles, his head soaked in water and face turned blue from being drowned. Walking away from her other two victims now stacked upon each other, Nessie retrieves each gun and returns them to Salem, who took for cover upon seeing the first guard. “Thanks” the woman replies, watching Nessie return to Clint and pick up her fishing line.
Beginning for the pond, Nessie begins to slow down before eventually stopping before she can descend the slope, looking back to see John and Katie emerging from the home. “Are we ready yet?” Nessie asks, laughing to herself before continuing to the waterfront beside her brother.
The sound of roaring commencing again, Emilio takes his hands away from the spike, dropping them to his lap as the roaring persists. Within seconds, the figure returns to Emilio’s sights, the familiar face of the sickening butcher replaced with the sight of the towering skyscraper Emilio had been indoctrinated by prior. Without hesitation, the man refuses any theatrics in his process of unlocking Emilio’s cell, telling him to stand up and think twice before making any funny moves.
Accepting the terms of his release, Emilio allows the man to free him of his restraints before walking wherever the man behind him requests to go. Being thrown death threats at every cell he walks past, Emilio emerges from the dungeon to a darkening sky, a community created in the middle of the the forest populated by nothing more than armed guards and lanky men with firearms straight out of a pirate movie.
“You guys took the whole pirate joke seriously, huh?” Emilio jokes, the man beside the tower chuckling to himself as the familiar face tells Emilio to remain quiet. “You’ve got me locked up, can you blame me for wanting to crack a joke?” Emilio asks, glancing back towards the tower, who remains silent. “I know you don’t like me, or don’t wanna get attached, and that’s fine!” Emilio exclaims, “but don’t let that dislike keep you from enjoying whatever life you’ve got.”
Ending his statement there, Emilio keeps his eyes forward, unaware of the tower glancing down at him behind, his expression almost admitting to himself of the point Emilio has. “You’ll be dead either by our hands or whatever we have you do” the tower replies, “I really don’t care how we get along, just do as you’re told and make it easier on yourself.”
Led around the campsite, Emilio is brought to the steps of a rundown office building, doors removed from their hinges, allowing the first sight to anyone entering to be a mass of pitch black nothingness. “Go on” the man behind him exclaims, Emilio turning around to find the pair responsible for leading him there insist he go on without them. “Aren’t you my chaperons?” Emilio replies, the man expressing his disappointment for not being allowed to see what comes next.
With a deep breath, Emilio readies himself for what is to come next, ultimately thinking of what he has to gain and lose from death. Comforted by whatever thoughts run through his head, Emilio takes the walk into the great beyond, the darkness consuming him completely until a voice beckons for his presence at once. “This way” the woman coos, Emilio led by the sound of her voice deeper into the abyss, the nothingness engulfing him almost comforting in a strange way.
Continuing further and further into the unknown, Emilio begins to hear the voice equal out, as if its point of origin had finally been stumbled upon. Despite being unsure of how far into the building he has traveled, Emilio feels the sense of an opening beside him, uncertain of its existence but beckoned to explore deeper into it nonetheless.
After a few moments, Emilio is congratulated for finding his way through the darkness, admitting that most people don’t usually make the journey. “It was a pretty easy walk” Emilio replies, his confidence present, not minding the reasons behind such a statement, instead insisting it was nothing impressive. “Do you happen to own a lightbulb, or is this more freaky shit?” Emilio proceeds, “I know you’re into biting lips, but I didn’t think that made you a vampire until now.”
With a chuckle, the woman sat on the other end of darkness admits that she wishes there was a chance in which she could have gotten to know Emilio better. Amused, Emilio confesses that he appreciates the sentiment, but can’t see eye to eye. “I’m kind of into guys, sweetheart… But at least you have your abundance of faces” Emilio replies, his confidence hiding a deeper concern that the woman notices without hesitation.
“You have all the makings of someone that makes jokes because you don’t want to show anyone that you’re scared” the woman explains, standing from her seat in the darkness and effortlessly strutting towards Emilio. “And you figured that all out because I mentioned how dark it is?” Emilio replies, his curiosity shot down by the woman at once, her gentle tone different from anything Emilio would have expected the machete-wielding lip-biter to have.
“I have stronger senses for lack of a better term” the woman replies, finally standing face to face with the man before pulling a chain, allowing a small table lamp to light the room, revealing her cold, colorless eyes. “I was blinded as a child, so every other sense I have heightened to allow me to survive” the woman explains, running her finger down Emilio’s arm, proving her point by mentioning the goosebumps running down the length of his skin.
“The world is only meant for the people that can adapt to its requests” the woman explains, “so those that cannot will perish, and those that can will thrive.” With a deep breath, Emilio asks the woman for the explanation behind this encounter. “If it’s because you wanna fuck me, cool… Just say that” Emilio explains, “but if there is something you’re trying to get off your chest, I’d suggest you just fucking say it before I get bored.”
With a smile, the woman reaches up and places Emilio’s cheek in her hand, telling Emilio to stop playing games. “Boredom would require normal senses” the woman explains, “what you’re feeling is worry, which is why you didn’t even attempt to move your head when I reached up for you.”
Her head tilting, the woman tells Emilio to explain what his interpretation of her words is intended to be. With a smile, Emilio responds by taking the woman’s had in his hands and planting a kiss on her, expression on her face changing into one of confusion. “It’s exactly what that kiss was, a distraction” Emilio replies, “all you’re trying to do is confuse me into buying whatever shit you try to sell next. So do us a favor, stop wasting our time and come out with it.”
Shaking her head, the woman’s smile fades into one of disappointment, leaving Emilio no option other than to turn around and face the wall behind him, turning his back to the woman. “Fine, I’ll play along” Emilio replies, hands pressed to his hips as he turns to face the woman once more. “You’re telling me that some people are stuck in their ways and refuse to change with the world” Emilio replies, “you’re telling me the only people that get to live, do it on the world’s terms.”
Clearing his throat, Emilio folds his hands together, assuring the woman that he knows exactly what she’s correlating this to. “Whatever camp you’ve got here is adapting to what the world wants and is changing with it” Emilio explains, “while your gripe with Sun City is that it’s refusing such a change and trying to bring about a world that used to be but no longer is.”
With a smile, the woman nods, admitting that she was wrong to have doubted him. “I was a politician, sweetheart” Emilio replies, “the world may have ended with Donny in office, but I still had to ted from Texas… Breaking down the bullshit is what I live for.” Her head swaying from one side to another, the woman approaches Emilio again, explaining that she notices too much in him to let his talents go to waste without being given a chance.
“Your group killed a camp full of some of my strongest men and women with a few knives” the woman explains, “if any of them came to my doorstep, I’d offer them the same chance.” Head hung with a smile on his face, Emilio asks the woman if she’s truly making the attempt he believes her to be making, “You want me, a former gubernatorial candidate in a country founded upon and firm in the belief of an everlasting democracy… To admit that democracy is dead?”
“I’m sure you understand it died in what was once this country long before all of this happened” the woman replies, Emilio left with no response other than laughter. “When I swore into mayoral office, I took a duty to uphold the constitution of this country!” Emilio exclaims, “how am I supposed to do that in good faith?”
“You’re not the same man you were back then where you stand, are you?” the woman asks, “and this is not the same world that it once was in this moment, is it?” Left speechless, Emilio looks towards the woman with the inability to give any definitive statement. “You once were a politician, Emilio” the woman exclaims, “so of all people, you should know just how corruptible a democracy truly is… especially in a world such as this.”
Closing his eyes and hanging his head, Emilio approaches the woman, asking for a night to think about her offer. “Why would you need the night?” the woman proceeds to ask, Emilio admitting that it takes a moment to throw aside morals with something as important to him as this. “Haven’t you already thrown them aside?” the woman proceeds to ask, leaving Emilio confused.
“What are you talking about?” Emilio asks, the woman smiling as she senses him look at her in a mixture of worry, doubt and anger. “Isn’t one of your morals as a politician to uphold the sanctity of life?” the woman asks, Emilio responding in kind. “Where did that go when you and your people made it known that they could take no chances?” the woman proceeds, Emilio taken back by the statement, speechless as to how she could have known that.
“Do you think we’ve never been to the mainland, or are we just in complete isolation to you?” the woman asks, her face dropping into curiosity as Emilio stares on in fear. “How did you know about that?” Emilio asks, the woman biting her lip as she places a deviant smile upon her face. “How we’ve known about that isn’t of concern, it’s how we respond to it” the woman explains, “I didn’t believe it at first, but when I heard that the same group had boarded our shores, I was ecstatic.”
With a sigh of joy, the woman explains that the group’s initiative to take no chances is exactly why she believes in their ability to adapt to the new world. “You can stand for something more than a forgotten relic of the past” the woman explains, “take control of your future by power rather than by the people.”
Her hand held out, the woman asks Emilio to join her hand with his, wishing for he and his group to usher in a new world to live in, evolved into what’s necessary to thrive. “Join me in making something this world is desperately working to create!” the woman explains, her hand continuing to extend outwards, waiting on Emilio to make his decision. “Make it here, make it now, Emilio” the woman explains, “adapt or perish.”
== Rise ==