The Sketch Survivors: The Enemy Among Us

Grave Digging

This was insane. Soal was staring upon his own grave; or at least of an identically named boy who shared his birthday, but died prematurely. Irene had warned him there was a secret in this cemetery that she tried to hide from him. But she had failed. She had "given up" in that regard, just as with her own self-proclaimed failure.

"I-Irene!" Soal called out to her, hoping for an honest response. But there was not even any response at all. She must have found out, too.

Soal returned to his original subject, and inspected it forlornly. This was clearly wrong; he was not dead. He may have been socially dead at the boarding school, but not physically. And here he was. Was Lint Corp just playing with him? Or was there some deeper meaning buried under this gravestone?

The words at the bottom scared him the most. He was a Revolutionary. Not a Lint Corp supporter!

Alright, Soal decided out of desire for the truth. I'm going to dig the body from this grave, and find the truth.

As though someone had been waiting for him, a conveniently placed shovel leaned against a neighboring headstone. Curious and determined, Soal equipped the shovel and began to dig. With his strength, it didn't take long to topple the gravestone. Now he just needed to unearth "his" body.

Under the dirt was not a body. There instead only existed a tight, packed cube of space, with a note inside.

This must be fate, Soal shakily considered. He warily knelt down to pick up and read the note.

It was in Moth's handwriting.

General Soal, if you're reading this, it's me. I'm probably confined in a Xillingese facility right now, while oil reserves dig for Dark Light around me. Judging from what this gravestone says, you're probably really confused right now. Everyone tells me that there used to be a very devoted young boy, the son of a Facilitator, who died young, and resided here in the Sketch Facility. They say he shared your name and birthday. Coincidence, eh? Well, I don't think so. Trust me, it's just a made-up myth. They know what this means. And I do, too. If you want to be free, so to speak, visit me in Xilling. I won't be hard to find, and you'll know where to go.

Adieu, MOTH

A plot blossomed forth in Soal's baffled mind. He missed Moth so much, and now in particular, when everything seemed to be crumbling, Moth was a priceless source of Lint Corp insight. Surely, he knew the way out of the Facility. If Death's Door and the Keys wouldn't work, the resourceful Moth would certainly find a way around it.

"Irene! Where are you?" Soal called one last time, to confirm her location.

Her location was no longer in the cemetery. Soal was disappointed, but knew deep down, and hoped deep down, that they would meet again. Both she and Moth had tendencies for vanishing for long periods of time.

Determined to find an answer to all of this, Soal sat on the harsh reddish dirt for a moment and pondered the logistics of his plan. In moments, it all made sense. He had figured out a "last-ditch effort."

Mustering all of his dedication to the dying Revolution, Soal drew Limmet, his armor and gear shining in the dim light under the dirty brown clouds.

It was time for the great heist to begin.