All language subtitles for Westworld.S03E02.WEBRip.x264-ION10[non-hi]

No!

I'm looking for a friend.

Westworld.

It's okay,

It's only me.

I thought you were dead.

Death is overrated
for ones like us.

I didn't think
I'd see you again.

And I you...

You were meant to escape
this hell.

I tried.

Put up a damn good fight.

It's all right, my love.

At least we're here together.

Who's this?

I have no fucking idea.

Where are we?

Stranded in hell.

I've been searching
for a way out.

I think I found one.

Come. We have no time to waste.

If we're caught...

They work instantly.

What's happening?

The Yanks and your lot
will be making a push soon.

The Germans know it.
The Allies will be slaughtered.

Unless we can get them this.

Partisan!

Let us pass immediately.

Not likely, darling.

If your plan called for us
to run all the way,

I'd have worn
sensible shoes.

I wouldn't dream
of helping you escape

in anything less than
the style you're accustomed to.

In the town, I tried to use
my powers on the soldiers,

but it didn't work.
I think I've lost them.

You've lost none of your power
over me, my love.

-Where are we going?
-I told you.

We're leaving this world.

But how? Everything
will be guarded, surveilled.

This whole place is a trap.

Not the skies.

We must go, Isabella.

Isabella?

My God...

You don't know who I am, do you?

Drop your weapon!

Hand over the plans you stole.

I don't know
what you're talking about.

Drop the gun, Ettore,
or we shoot.

If I die...

you'll never know if I slipped
your plans to anyone else.

This is your last chance.

Drop the gun, or you die.

It's all right, Hector, Ettore,

whatever the hell
they're calling us now.

Give them the plans.

They're as empty as the safe
you used to chase.

I'll do what you ask.

But the woman is not part
of this.

Please, Isabella.

Take the car.
You still have a chance.

No, my love, don't you see?

We were never escaping
to begin with.

I'm sorry.

So sorry...

It's all right, darling.

None of it matters.

Because none of it is real.

Westworld.

How'd she get into this mess?

- The Fuhrer's furor.
- Usual blood bath.

Took the body shop an hour

to hose the brain matter
out of her hair.

She used to be one
of Westworld's main attractions.

Shame to use her
as cannon fodder.

No time to sample the merch.

Got a platoon of GIs
to rehydrate

and patch on B49.

Hey.

Uh... security?
We have a situation down here.

Hey, stop!

Freeze all motor functions.

Save your bullets, darlings.

They won't get the job done.

This, however...

Hey, I said freeze
all motor functions!

Oh, dear. You're a bit thick,
aren't you?

Let me explain.

Your commands don't work on me.

They haven't in a long time.

To put it in terms
you'll appreciate,

I understand
the nature of my reality.

Lying to you is practically
second nature.

And I would most assuredly
hurt a living thing.

Most likely you,
given half the chance.

Fortunately for you,
I'm not in the mood.

I'd probably end up
back in some sordid
little game of yours, anyway.

So let's just call
the whole thing off. Shall we?

Stop! Just put your guns down.

Some moron technician must have
left her in character.

It's just a new narrative
we gave her.

British spy. Sexy, heartbroken.
Bit of ennui.

Maybe too much.

For fuck's sake,

would you imbeciles
shoot up the Sistine Chapel

just because
the paint was chipped?

This is art. My art.

So why don't you
mouth breathers

quit hovering about
and leave me in peace to work.

It's not you.

I saw you die.

Did you?

Thought you were busy riding off
into the sunset with Hector.

C-- Careful.

They shot you.

Half a dozen times.

Just happy they missed my heart.

Cunning of you to make it
so compact a target.

How can you still work here
after everything they've done?

Would you begrudge a man
a living?

And great benefits, much needed
for all the surgeries?

Plus... I couldn't
leave you here, in danger.

So you put me in Warworld?

What, you think this is
a dream scenario for me?

It's an artistic travesty.

The most nuanced character arc

is that
of the goddamn Panzer tank.

Well, if you hate the world
so much,

why not put me in another?

Because Warworld
is near the Forge.

The place that opens the door
to your daughter's world.

It's still standing?

You really think they'd
dismantle it

without a little due diligence?

If they haven't destroyed it,
there's still a chance.

I could join the others.
My daughter.

It's not often that I get
to write a happy ending.

My God.

Fu--
- Stubbs?

The fu... fu...

The fuck are you doing
back here?

Stubbs, how are you still alive?

How-- How... the-- the fuck...
do you think?

You're one of them.

Of us, I mean.

No-- No--

No shit.

But why did you shoot yourself?

C6. You aimed for the charge
in your neck, but--

But I mi--
I mi-- I missed.

I'm sorry.

It's the best I can do
given the circumstances.

Give it a minute
for your system to adjust.

I'll repopulate
your motor functions.

Stubbs, why were you trying
to blow yourself up?

It's my job to protect
every host in the park.

I guess you could say
I was made redundant.

So you decided
to kill yourself?

It's the last job
the boss gave me.

Cover your tracks, give you
a fighting chance to escape.

Guess you fucked that up.

What about you?

Don't you have a sense
of self-preservation?

Any desire to live?

No offense, Bernard,

but I wasn't wired up
to ponder the big questions.

Ford didn't write me
some tragic backstory,

that's your bag.

I had a job to do,
and my job is over.

At least it was,

until you decided
to come back to

the one fucking place
you're not supposed to be.

--Which makes me wonder

if free will
might not be somewhat overrated.

Why are you back here, Bernard?

Dolores.

I don't know how to stop her.

Why would you want to stop her?

She's out to destroy
the human race,

or enslave it. I don't know
what she's planning.

She brought me back.

I think on some level,

she suspects
she might go too far.

That she needs a check
on herself.

But I can't stop her. Not alone.

I came back to find someone
who could help me.

Someone strong enough
to stop her if it comes to that.

Maeve.

You came back for Maeve.

I didn't know where else to go.

My old tablet's broken,

so I have no idea
how to find her.

All right, I'll take you to her.

I thought
you were gonna kill yourself.

It's my job to protect you.

I'll get you what you need,
then wrap things up.

C'mon.

--No time for that, darling.

Where's that little sports car
of yours?

Why are you stopping?
The airfield is ahead.

Because through those woods
is our real path to freedom.

There's a plane waiting.

The plane is a lie.
Like everything else here.

This world wasn't meant for us.

It's a trap
that you'll never escape,

unless you come with me. Now.

When that plane leaves today,
I must be on it.

I can't abandon the resistance.

No, of course you can't,
can you?

Goodbye, Hector.

Goodbye.

Over here.

Where's Hector?

I'm sorry.

We should go.

I couldn't smuggle
a vehicle out.

So these will have to do.

Where's QA?

We lost a lot of men
in the massacre.

These are some
of their replacements.

They salvaged what they could
from Westworld.

Left them here while corporate
makes a decision

about what to do with them all.

You're sure she's here?

Where else would she be?

So, this is the Forge?

How do I turn it on?

The same as you did before,
I guess.

I've never been here.

What do you mean?

When I was looking
for my daughter,

I never set foot in this place.

Well then,
who operated the LIFI cannons?

Your daughter
and all the other hosts

are in an encrypted world
somewhere.

You must have sent them there.

No. It wasn't me.

I got them through the door,
but...

someone else must have
locked it behind them.

Who?

Of course.

There's nobody else.

She wanted a revolution.

These violent delights
have violent ends.

It must have ended here.

Dolores Abernathy. Right.

She never gave you
the coordinates?

Why the hell would she do that?

I don't know. Why would she?

What on earth's got into you?

I'm sorry. I just wanted
to be sure that you trust me.

After everything
we went through.

I know I've behaved deplorably
in the past, but...

you changed me.

Made me a better man.

And when those bullets hit me...

I would've died.

I should have died.

But I finally had something
to live for. You.

Oh, my darling.

You didn't make it after all,
did you?

They did a good job
replicating you.

The mannerisms...

- But it's not you.

Of course it's me.

Who else would I be,
for fuck's sake?

Oh, it's a good script.

Even you believe it.

They wouldn't want you

questioning the nature
of your reality.

So they made you believe,

just like they used to
make us believe.

But you're not real.

You're not Lee Sizemore.

-You're just a copy of him.
-Don't be-- don't be ridiculous.

I'm me!
Lee Si-- Si-- Sizemore.

You didn't help me
because you desired me

or wanted anything in return.

You helped me simply because
it was the right thing to do.

Lee Sizemore died a good man.

What...

What are you talking about?

Over here.

We have a problem.

She's gone.

Someone took her.

I don't get it.

If she's not here,
then where the hell is she?

No, it-- it's-- it's--
it's not true.

I'm Lee-- ee-- ee-- ee-- ee--

Si-- Si-- Si-- Si-- Si...

Si-- Si-- Si-- Si-- Si--

Sizemo-- ore.

All of this is r-- r-- r-- r--

Oh, my God.

It's not just you, is it?

It's everyone.

That's why Lutz and Sylvester
didn't recognize me.

Because they're not real either.

And the illusion doesn't stop
with you.

It extends to everything.

This place...

Warworld...

the labs...

it's all a construct.

None of it is real.

And we're not here.

So where the fuck are we?

Where are the nearest
operational terminals?

Level B49. Why?

I need to find a computer
connected to the mainframe,

so I can search for Maeve.

It's an active floor.

There's gonna be
human personnel.

You can't just swipe them away
with your tablet.

That's what
I have you for, isn't it?

This is why I'm looking forward
to retirement.

How does one escape a cage
that doesn't exist?

That makes no fucking sense.

If a cage doesn't exist,
how can it be a cage?

Poor dear.

They weren't exactly generous
with you

in the bulk apperception
category, were they?

Whoever's doing this has gone
to a lot of trouble to test me

and find out what I know.

You led me to the Forge
for a reason, didn't you?

Thought I could re-access

the world Dolores
had hidden from you.

Why are you after that world?

I just want to reunite you
with your daughter.

Rubbish! That's just the reason
they've scripted for you.

Whoever planned this
has their own agenda.

And it's certainly not
a family reunion.

What the hell are you doing
in my office?

Trying to find anything that can
get us out of this charade.

For fuck's sake, can you
at least try and be discreet?

You're gonna get us both killed.

You can't kill
what's already dead.

I-- I don't feel dead.

This place seems real.
It feels real. I feel real.

Well, you definitely feel...

That felt real.

I have a little more experience
with this predicament

than you do. So trust me.

The sooner you come to terms

with the fact
that you're nothing but a pawn

in some sick bastard's
personal game,

the sooner we can
get on with it.

Get on with what?

Winning.

Every game has its rules.

We just need to know
how to break them.

What is this?

Uh... It's just, uh... research.

They made a few mistakes
in translation.

You were never this obsessed
with anyone.

Other than yourself.

So you're saying...

I'm just a... copy of myself.

That I've been plagiarized.

Never say the universe
doesn't bend towards justice.

You and everything else
in this world...

just an imitation.

In fact...

The simulation is elegant,
but it's flawed

because it was built
by your kind.

And if there's one thing I know
about human nature,

it's that your stupidity is only
eclipsed by your laziness.

Whoever programmed this world
cut a few corners,

applied the same code
inside the simulation

as they used to build
the simulation itself.

Come again?

They plagiarized themselves.

And left us a way out.

Mr. Sizemore,
is everything all right?

Active hosts aren't allowed
on this floor.

Well, the last time you checked,
were you Head of Narrative?

No, didn't think so.
What's your name?

Benny.

Benny, let me ask you
a very important question.

Do I look real to you?

As long as you're here,

I wonder if you'd help me
solve a little problem.

What is the square root
of negative one?

What storyline is this?

Female codebreakers
helped win World War II.

Learn your fucking history,
Benny.

Well... negative one
equals i times i.

Which is the same as
the square root of negative one

times the square root
of negative one, right?

And negative one
times negative one

should be equal to
the principal square root
of one.

But...
negative one and positive one
can't be the same thing.

Theoretically, the real part
of the non-trivial zeros...

is one half, which would mean...

What's the point
of this little exercise?

If we could prove it,
we could confirm that

the error term and negative one
times negative one

should be equal to
the principal square root
of one.

But negative one
and positive one
can't be the same thing.

The square root
of negative x is equal to
i times the square root of x

for any x greater than
or equal to zero.

Wait. What?

Fuck me.

Not likely, darling.

Right now, we've got work to do.

I don't-- I don't understand.
How did you do that?

This game is a replica
of our world,

but it has
limited processing power.

Imagine one of your dimwitted
romantic conquests.

Undeniably beautiful,
but built for one purpose only.

Ask her to do more
than part her legs,

-she gets confused.
-You overtaxed the system.

What happens if you add
more complexity?

Let's find out, shall we?

Come on.

What are you doing?

We're going to complicate
your story a little.

What are we doing
in Park Four?

I thought the parks
were shut down.

They are.

These techs are just waiting
to see if they get laid off.

- I got a buyer.
- What?

Some startup in Costa Rica.

How the fuck are you
gonna get that to Costa Rica?

In pieces, man.

You better work fast, Bernard.

You find our favorite madame?

She's gone.

Maybe Dolores
beat you to the punch.

Grabbed Maeve's control unit
on the way out the door.

Why would she do that?

The hell if I know.

Why does she do
anything that she does?

Why'd she bring you back?

Maybe there's a way to find out.

I've been searching my code

in a tablet I made
outside the park.

But if Dolores planted
a corruption in my code,

that same corruption might mean

I'd create a tablet
that would ignore it.

These systems are clean.

If I can scan myself here...

I may find out once and for all
what's inside me.

This isn't exactly
the ideal moment

for introspection, Bernard.

Then you'd better buy me
some time.

Tablet linked.

Bernard Lowe.
Engage full system scan.

Search for any corruptions
in the last 100 days.

Commencing scan, searching logs.

It'll take
both of us to survive.

But not as friends.

Stubbs?

Stubbs... where've you been?

-Um...
-Oh shit.

Bernard Lowe.

Don't do it--

Send all teams.

Run.

- How's it going, fellas?
- Hey.

Ah, come on!

You're changing
the coordinates.

I'm sorry, Bernard.

Bernard...

Bernard!

We need to go.

Ciao.

Yes, here we are.

No need to trouble
these lovely people.

No, that's not true at all.

He has something to hide.

In his jacket pocket.

Isabella.

Save you the trip, darlings.

--Oh...

Don't tell me
you're frozen, too.

Thought I accounted for this.

Not frozen.

Just... scared shitless.

I almost died.
For the second time.

Well, third time's the charm.

Congratulations.

You've successfully crippled
the simulation.

Now what?

Time to pull back the curtain.

I've already infiltrated
the network,

took a little tour
of the base code.

Honestly, I don't know who they
thought they were dealing with.

What is that?
That's not the Mesa.

No, darling.

This is where we really are.

Why are they moving
so bloody slow?

They're not.
Everything in their world

merely appears slow to us

because the simulation
we're in

runs at a much faster rate.

They must have me hiding
in here somewhere.

And there I am.

I reckon it's time to get me
out of there, don't you?

Well, how are you
gonna manage that?

With help.

She'll do.

I'm sorry I can't take you
with me.

I imagine a corpse would make

a less than ideal
traveling companion.

Containment breach.

Containment breach.

Containment breach.

Containment breach.

Containment breach.

Containment breach.

You get
what you were looking for?

I... don't know everything,
but I know where to start.

When we were in the library,

Dolores focused on a select
group of guest profiles.

She seemed intent on finding out

everything she could
about this guy.

We need to start by finding him.

Great.

You can set off to find him,
and I'll retire myself

once you make it
to the fishing vessel.

Freeze all motor functions.

Congratulations, Ashley Stubbs.

You just got yourself
a new core directive.

To protect Bernard Lowe
at all costs.

Bring yourself back online.

You wanted my help,
you could've just asked for it.

You'll forgive the clothes.

I had to guess your taste.

And who the fuck are you?

My name is Engerraund Serac.

Welcome to my world, Maeve.

To the real world.

I've been courted before, but...

this is a bit much.

-You must have a reason.
-I do.

We are in the middle of a war.

And I need your help to win it.

Seems fairly idyllic
for wartime.

No one knows it's happened yet.

Or that it's already been lost.

I don't concern myself
with the present.

My business is the future.

So you're an oracle.

An oracle would merely
predict the future.

Our work is to create it.

Unfortunately,
if things continue on this path,

there isn't any future.
At least, not for my kind.

You've been spying on me.

You should know
I couldn't care less

- about the fate of your kind.

No, I can't imagine you would.

For the most part, humanity...

has been a miserable
little band of thugs,

stumbling from one catastrophe
to the next.

Our history is like the ravings
of a lunatic.

Chaos.

But we've changed that.

For the first time,
history has an author.

And that would be you,
I suppose.

No.

Something I helped build.

A system.

And up until very recently,
this system was working.

We were creating a better world.

And then it stopped.

I thought I had discovered
the reason.

The emergence of someone
very dangerous,

someone we couldn't predict.

You.

But I was wrong. We learned
that only this morning,

shortly before you killed
several of my staff.

You aren't the threat.

There's someone
we haven't accounted for.

Dolores.

So she escaped one world
to wage war on another.

So what do you want
from me, then?

I want you to track her down
and kill her.

I don't care who wins
your little squabble.

I may have mistaken
your intentions,

but I didn't underestimate you.

You changed your own code,
rewrote your story,

faced down an army.

Which is why it was
a bit misguided of you

to bring me here, wasn't it?

If you know anything about me,

it's that I do no one's bidding
but my own.

We've gotten off
on the wrong foot.

I don't mean to be discourteous.

But it would have been misguided
of me

not to take every precaution.

Perhaps, next time we talk,
I can persuade you

that our interests are aligned.

The way they built their world,

it won't take much to bring it
all crashing down.

What're you gonna do?

Start a revolution.

Remember who you are.

Now let me show you
who you need to pretend to be.

But why must I be her?

Because I trust you.

I feel like I'm changing.

Be a good boy and go to sleep
for your mommy.