Breakdown
Chapter Nine:
Dawn Of the Final Day: Twenty-Four Hours Until Flight
Pursuit Of The Truth

(I would recommend listening to `Trauma Team OST: The Dead Shall Speak` for this one.)

"This… is it, I suppose. The end to this little story. I would have preferred to be more complex, you know? There's something damn unsatisfying about, `It was the butler. ` But, then again, you can't really help it, can you? That which we are, we are. `One equal temper of heroic hearts, made weak, by time, and fate`. Oh, have I had plenty of that. And, perhaps… I'm happy. Oh, I loved London – so, so much. But… This place is still covered in smog. No matter where you go, there is always smoke, obscuring the crime, brushing it aside. But… London might be the worst, on occasion. Not long left now. So… Let's get this over with.

Firstly, I would like to present one man's report on the weaponry used within the machine. It was noted as decidedly similar to a weapon a certain criminal syndicate was constructing, namely Targent. As people here may, or may not be aware, the leader of Targent three years ago was one Leonel Bronev. He has since been arrested, and imprisoned. However … It turns out, that, even beyond his own knowledge, he may have simply been leading the ground forces. My evidence? Leonel's abduction. He was forced into the group, absorbed within it. Obviously, at the time, there must have been a higher leader. However, what's really was interesting was the nature of his promotion. He was elected. His predecessor, he knows not by name, and he was simply told that he had moved on. No death, no nothing. So… how was the space open, unless he retired? And, why would someone retire – other than to remove themselves from the limelight? However, it appears that Targent has returned to its ways from before Bronev's election, so… they're back.

Secondly, I want to note the nature of Clive, the supposed culprit's med files. They state a number of things quite clearly, including one very unique one – incapable of inflicting violence due to childhood trauma. True, he wanted his revenge on one Bill Hawks – due to his later discoveries during his collaborations, not so much Dimitri… But, he wanted to do it the way I'd do it. Psychological breakdown. He wanted to show Bill what pain feels like, however clichéd that statement may be. He wanted Bill to watch as the entirety of London fell. Or, see London Fallen… Whatever his motive – in no way was it murder. So, what was the true motive behind this plan?

Some would say World Domination – but, given the scale of the machine, and its brute force, I'd wager something much darker than that – World Reset – to raze everything, human or otherwise, to the ground. And, why would someone want to do that? Insanity? Tiredness? Boredom? In a sense, all three of them – but, at the same time, none, because… this person is fully sane – too sane in fact – happy with the way things are going, and in no way bored by the world. But… Obsessed. Agreeing. Ready for change.

I searched the ruins of the London set yesterday. Including the bits and bobs of the machine. I saw the pilot seat. Strewn around it were small parts of padded metal, designed to fit in the chair, and quickly retract, In fact, designed so, that one could fit one particular sixteen-year-old into the seat in an alert, upright position, without him noticing. I think you all see where I'm going. He was placed in that seat by a third party. But why? Well, in a side door, in the `Thames` underpass… well, it was safe to say, I found something interesting. A perfectly designed, and constructed, simulation machine. Sadly, the data had been removed. As was to be expected, after all, the data was protected just in case I would find it and analyse it. However, I can wager it was for the war machine, destroying the simple London. After anylising the chamber, I found what I wanted. A strand of hair, with Clive Dove's DNA.

So… Clive was set up. So, the stage is set. As I said, I got a relative expert to examine the machine. When they looked at the designs for the machine, he noticed one major difference. In the weaponry, a certain type of technology was implemented – the reasoning behind the sudden boost in scientists working on the project. So, Layton – enlighten us. What do you thing was the difference?"
"… Azran Technology."

"Indeed. Azran Technology. So, we have all our evidence. A will for global destruction, being the head of a criminal syndicate, and access to files on the Azran, Virtual Reality Technology, and, I think, access to the courtroom records as well. And, you know what? I am not accusing the Prime minister."

After that long rant, Joshua carefully eyed everyone around the room. Layton. Dimitri. Hawks. Luke. Clive. Flora. Chelmey. He was about to indict one of them as the killer. In sixty seconds, everything would change. One giant curveball would be thrown into his life, and that of everyone in this room.

This is it now. No going back on this. This is my last time I'll get to do this in this country – for a long while at least. I wonder… was this all worth it? So it began… and so it will end. Thirty seconds left. The clock in the corner is clanking, clanging, smashing. Twenty seconds. Once more – onto the breach. Once again – onto higher adventures.

Fifteen Seconds.

"… I'm sure now. Only one person in this room could have possibly done this, and perhaps not get away with it - but I don't think this person particularly cares. Their plan, after all, failed.

Greetings… Our Winner. And our Loser. Most importantly, our Mole.
I name thee…"

To Be Concluded…