Chapter Text
The next morning, Emily Kaldwin is safe in the hands of her guard, her captors dead in the tower. Many people ask her what happened, but she remembers little other than the sight of Corvo’s mask. Nobody notices the spent sleep dart on the floor near the room she was kept in.
At the Hound Pits Pub, the Royal Physician is found in the company of a fellow scientist, barricaded within their workshop. They claim to have seen a man dressed in black and a steel skull mask annihilating the men who had them trapped. The explosions of tallboys lit up the dusky sky like fireworks. If the man destroying them was taller or broader than the physicians remembered, they say nothing of it.
Across the city, Corvo’s body is found on a rooftop in the flooded district after an anonymous tip is left with a guard captain. In his hand is a drawing of himself by Emily, smiling and rosy-cheeked. His cheeks are now cold and crusted over with maroon blood. He is returned to Dunwall Tower for a hero’s funeral. He will be laid to rest next to the late Empress.
His mask is never found.
On a ship halfway to Serkonos, a man sits in the shadows of his cabin. He speaks in whispers to a fluttering something in his hands.
“What did you tell him?” he asks again and again.
It is impossible to tell if he wears a mask, or if he has become it, a mournful voice finally whispers back, just for his ears. It whispers other things, too, things that hurt to hear, about the captain, the sailors, about Corvo, about himself.
When Emily goes to change for the funeral upon returning to the Tower, her home, she finds a note folded in her pocket.
Emily, it reads,
I am sorry it ended how it did. You deserved better.
Know you were loved.
With regrets,
Your Father