Deafening cheers, lilting marches, the aroma of food, golden confetti... Votradnoi was immersed in a boundless sea of celebration.
Chris and Elena's wedding procession was like a golden sun in motion, illuminating every street and kindling the flame of hope in every Bagnian heart.
Yet beneath this dazzling spectacle, what kept it running smoothly and defended it against the undercurrents were countless unseen hands, countless streams of sweat, and even blood quietly spilled.
Home Alone was merely one tiny node in an immense network of shadows.
Deep within the clamoring crowds, in the dark corners of alleys, and above the din on the rooftops, more Inquisition agents and temporarily recruited player "cleaners" worked like precision gears, spinning at high speed within the invisible web of order Chris had woven.
An Inquisition operative disguised as a street vendor keenly spotted someone trying to light an improvised Molotov cocktail just as the crowd grew most congested.
He had none of Home Alone's sleeve darts, nor could he act with the same elegance and stealth. All the operative could do was charge like a bull and, in the instant his target froze in shock, end the threat with the scale weight in his hand... by smashing the fellow's skull.
The operative then quickly dragged the corpse into a nearby pile of junk and covered it with an oilcloth, as though it were merely a heap of rubbish awaiting disposal.
Seconds later, his sales cries rang out again, thick with a nasal twang, as though nothing had happened.
A player with the ID "Steam Wrench" had used his status as an apprentice tech-priest of the Mechanicus Cult to slip into the crew maintaining the enormous parade floats.
He was there not to sabotage, but to protect.
While inspecting a vehicle named "The Omnissiah's Blessing,"