All language subtitles for Timeless - 2x02 - The Darlington 500.HDTV.KILLERS.en

Previously on "Timeless"...

- Help!
- That's why we're here.

To save his life.

His name is Nicholas Keynes.

- Where am I?
- You're with Rittenhouse.

In the year 2018.

- And who are you?
- I'm your granddaughter.

Your mother's Rittenhouse?

You have come so far
these past few weeks, Lucy.

I'm proud of you.

Be with us, be on the
right side of history.

This is so much bigger than you or me.

Mom.

Mom!

Jiya.

The mother ship visited
ten different destinations.

History could've changed
and we wouldn't even know it.

I've been reading these plans they have.

Key moments in history
to change the present.

The captain, 1918, he worked
his way up through the ranks.

Emma, she'd been in the
late 1800s for ten years.

I mean, what if they've already planted

who knows how many agents in history?

Was there anything in there
about a Nicholas Keynes?

These plans, this manifesto,
Nicholas Keynes wrote it.

- Something's happened.
- I'll only talk to Lucy.

What're you doing up already?

You know that track like
the palm of your hand.

Turn three's got a weird camber to it.

Would be a good place to pass if

Jimmy or Wendell makes a run on me.

- Quit your worrying.
- Not worrying.

Planning.

Well.

Then let's plan together.

Didn't realize he was married.

Two caskets instead of one?

Three, counting the bun in the oven.

Drive faster.

Okay, output?

- Still 14.4.
- Damn it.

I'd have to rip up the
whole board and start again.

Hand me the T10 Torx.

It's not real.

It's not real, it's
not real, it's not real.

Jiya.

Jiya.

You okay?

Yeah, totally fine.

A little light reading, huh?

Oh, just Rittenhouse's
creepy cult manifesto.

That stuff's crazy.

Crazy my mother believes in.

Can I ask you something?

What'd they do to you in there?

Nothing to talk about.

Which is why you're
staring at the ceiling

all night every night?

Your roommate Jiya sold you out.

- So she's spying on me?
- She's worried about you.

We all are.

I appreciate everyone's concern, but

I'm fine.

What do you mean there's nothing?

I mean nothing.

The mother ship landed in the
South Carolina sticks, 1955.

Nothing historical, no one
important there by a long shot.

What if they're looking for someone

- before they became important?
- So, then what?

We just pick a direction
and start walking?

I have an idea.

I mean, you're gonna hate it,

but we do have someone
who could help us,

who know more about
Rittenhouse than we do.

- Who?
- She's talking about Flynn.

Mm, mm-mm.

And "hate" does not
begin to touch how I feel

about that idea.

Number one, he's a psycho.

Number two, he's a total psycho.

And number three, he thinks he's in jail

- 'cause we set him up.
- Well, we did set him up.

More you than us, but, yeah.

Who... who's counting?

He said that he would only talk to me,

so why not talk to him?

Because he's unhinged.

We can't trust a word he says.

Okay, well, if anyone has a better idea,

say it.

No offense, Lucy, but
you have looked better.

Rittenhouse has gone
to South Carolina, 1995.

Any idea why?

Maybe you should ask
your mother for help?

It came up during our interrogation.

You never suspected she was Rittenhouse?

Your own mother?

Are you gonna tell us what they're doing

in South Carolina or not?

Well, if you get me out of
here, then maybe we can talk.

You know that's impossible.

Well, then it's
impossible for me to help.

I wanna finish what we started.

I wanna take down Rittenhouse for good.

Oh, please, you stopped me
from taking down Rittenhouse

over and over again.

Not anymore. I'll do
whatever it takes now.

Really?

What, you're gonna kill your own mother?

Your hero

who secretly groomed you,

programmed you since you were a child

to become one of them?

And you blindly obeyed your whole life,

begging for her approval like a lap dog.

I'm sorry, Lucy, but it just
doesn't inspire confidence.

They murdered your wife and daughter.

You wanna avenge their deaths?

You can help us or you can
keep being a smug, stubborn ass

and rot knowing that
their deaths were in vain.

There was a South Carolina
address on a Rittenhouse agent

I killed.

145 Fuller St.

And I think the city
was called Darlington.

That's all I have.

This one's free.

The next one will cost you.

These clothes are from Old Navy.

Yeah and the badge looks like
it's from the 99 cent store.

Yes, wardrobe and
props are of necessity.

A little barebones at the moment,

due to financial constraints,
but hey, luckily for you,

"Rebel Without a Cause"
made jeans and T-shirts

perpetually cool. You'll blend right in.

What did you find out
about 145 Fuller St.?

Just a house.

In 1955 it was owned
by a Ryan Millerson.

Wait.

The Ryan Millerson?

- Who's that?
- Are you kidding?

He's like one of the greatest
NASCAR drivers of all time.

NASCAR? Yeah, not my sport.

He wins the first Daytona 500 in 59.

He's up there with guys
like Lee Petty and...

And Junior Johnson and Tim Flock.

Oh, you guys really are coastal elites.

Why would Rittenhouse target
a NASCAR driver in the 50s?

Well, we're about to find out.

Jiya.

- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans -
-- www.Addic7ed.com --

Nicholas?

How are you feeling?

We've, uh, followed
your writings to the T.

Planted sleeper agents
in different decades.

This is Wikipedia.

How much did you print out?

- All of it.
- All of it?

Scribed by your mechanical printmaker.

Yes, but this... this tablet

that I showed you, this
would make things a lot...

It strains my eyes.

I don't know how you people
stare at those glowing windows

all day long.

Do you recognize her?

It's my mother.

My daughter. Your mother.

To me she's just a baby.

But...

time is a funny thing.

Nicholas, we've been
waiting for your guidance.

Where is the Victrola I requested?

The, uh, hundred-year-old
record player?

We're having a hard time tracking one.

I want what I'm used to.

- A list of songs.
- For the phonograph.

Okay.

And more pickled eggs.

Sooner than later.

Pickled eggs.

Well, I'll tell ya, y'all
don't look like any reporters

I've ever seen.

Well, we're from California.

California. It's a shame he missed you.

He would've loved talking to y'all.

You said Ryan's at
the track? To practice.

Not to practice, no, to race.

Today's the Darlington 500,

that's why you're here, isn't it?

Yeah, that is why we're here.

Well, if you hurry, you might even beat

your competition to him.

Competition?

Two other reporters were
here about an hour ago.

And I will tell you the
same thing I told them,

Ryan's gonna win it for sure.

You can print that in
your papers right now.

I will.

You mind telling us what these

other reporters looked like?

The man was very serious,
and the woman, well,

red hair and a lot of freckles.

God's kisses, right? Right.

Oh, do... do you know her?

Yes, uh,

more of a professional
rival, if you will.

Get your popcorn here.

Oh, man, that's a 49 Ford sedan.

48 Ford Super Deluxe
with an inline six.

These are original stock
cars, no restorations.

- What?
- Nothing.

Just didn't realize you
were such a stone cold nerd.

Yeah, me neither.

So what do you think Rittenhouse

wants with the race?

Covering the market on
country western songs?

First order of business,
we gotta find Ryan

before Rittenhouse does.

His garage has to be
around here somewhere.

Excuse me, boy.

No, sorry. Excuse me.

Ugh, 1955 in the South.

Not exactly a prime
place for black folk.

Tell that to him.

- That's...
- Wendell Scott.

Why'd you hit my boy?

Son of a...

I was talking to you.

No, no, not toward the fighting.

Why'd you hit my boy?

Caught your dumbass
boy mucking in my engine

so I laid him out.

- Got a feeling you sent him.
- And why would I do that?

'Cause I smoked you
on the track last week.

For the sixth time.

Hey, hey. That's enough.

Who are you?

- Police.
- Dressed like that?

True.

You're gonna argue with this badge?

You saw what he did to my boy.

I know what you did to his car.

Call it an even trade.

Y'all really cops?

- Well, yeah, I'm a chief.
- Uh, the deputy...

Yes, sir, Wyatt Logan.

Big fan of yours.

Makes you one lonely fella.

We're actually looking for
a man named Ryan Millerson.

Is this Old Rusty?

Car that made the Fall Creek Run.

How do you know about that?

My dad's a driver. Not a racer.

But he taught me some moves.

So, Wendell, you could
really help us out if...

Is it true you were running moonshine,

and when you saw the police road blocks,

you threw it into reverse,

took a hairpin turn
backwards at 70 miles an hour?

By the time the police got to my garage,

I had my engine out the
car and on the chain,

no charges filed.

You, uh... It's fine.

Is that moonshine?

Just to show appreciation
for what you did for me?

- Thank you.
- Oh, I'll take that.

We actually, um, don't
want any moonshine,

we just wanna know if you know

who Ryan Millerson is.

Everybody knows Ryan Millerson.

- Oh.
- Can you introduce us?

Sure. I already know you're Wyatt.

I'm sorry, Lucy. Hello.

Rufus.

- What was that?
- What was what?

You shook your head at me.

I was... I was... I
was... I was... Never mind.

Let me find someone to watch Old Rusty,

then I'll take you to Ryan.

Okay, thank you.

- What was that?
- What're you doing?

It's the nod.

You know, when black
people see each other.

The nod.

Guess it's not a thing yet.

So what's the deal with
this Wendell Scott dude?

He runs moonshine and he's a racer?

Well, that's how stock
car racing started.

They were driving fast
to get away from the cops,

and it turned into driving
fast on the dirt tracks.

I know sports history too.

Did he ever actually win?

He only won a Grand
National in 1963, but...

- But?
- He won by two laps, but

they marked him third.

Wendell argued, eventually
they gave him the prize money,

- after all the fans had left.
- Jesus.

So he never got the glory or the trophy.

Huh, hunk of junk, fast
ride, smuggler, rebel, racer,

and made the Fall Creek Run
in less than twelve parsecs?

This Wendell Scott dude's
like a real-life Han Solo.

- Yeah.
- Come on.

How'd you know about Fall Creek Run?

You a bootlegger
before you became a cop?

I was.

Misspent youth.

Not a bad way to make ends meet, is it?

Until I start winning

the big races, anyway.

Well, I'm sure you're gone.

Let me see if I can get
y'all an introduction.

All right.

Yep, that's him.

Wyatt Logan, notorious bootlegger.

I was.

No, seriously.

I used to run stuff
across the Texas border.

Oh, what, like you ran moonshine?

Let's just say it was a
little stronger than that.

A little more illegal.

- How old were you?
- About 15.

- You guys never asked.
- Y'all good?

He'll see you after
the reporters clear out.

Great, thank you so much.
It was great meeting you.

- See you around.
- All right.

- 'Ey, Bobby.
- See you later.

Come on, fan boy.

You think somebody's looking to hurt me?

- Well, we're not sure.
- Doesn't make sense.

I got lots of rivals, but no enemies.

Have you noticed anything suspicious?

- Anyone following you or...
- Maybe a...

A woman with red hair and
freckles and an evil stare?

I'd think I'd remember
somebody like that.

Hey, Ryan.

Has anyone, uh, been in here recently?

I don't think so.

I've been outside talking to reporters

for the past 30 minutes.

Ryan, there's something in here,

looks like a trigger install.

Whoa. It's a bomb.

Guys?

He's the Rittenhouse sleeper agent?

How's he the sleeper?

Well, what do we have here?

The prodigal princess and her boy toys.

Hello, Emma.

Hand over your weapon.

What're they doing here?

Dying.

Except maybe you.

Tell me where the "Lifeboat"
is, I'll let you live.

I promise.

Right now your promises mean

a grand total of jack squat to me.

Que será, será.

Do it.

You want me to kill Carol's daughter?

I'm ordering you to. Do it.

Go, go, go.

Over here.

All clear.

What the hell was that
thing you threw back there?

Fire extinguisher grenade, obviously.

Obviously. Well, thanks.

Quit nodding at me.

- Sorry.
- Who the hell are those folks?

Bad people.

Why are they trying to hurt Ryan?

Well, Ryan's one of them.

I've known Ryan for six years.

He's a good man, churchgoing.

And a communist.

Communist? In South Carolina?

That's right, Ryan Millerson
is a known communist

who has embedded himself in
American society for years.

How do you know that?

Because we work for the government,

hunting down those guys.

That's right. We're commie hunters.

Damn.

Them good ol' boys
down back on the track

messed up my engine again.

Good news is my garage
is just up the way.

I don't understand, I thought
you said that Ryan Millerson

was some golden boy
of NASCAR or something.

Had his poster on my wall.

- What do you know about him?
- Millerson?

He wins the Daytona 500 in 59...

Further back. Where did he come from?

Sort of came out of nowhere, like, 46?

Out of nowhere?

What if Rittenhouse
dropped him here in 46?

Are you saying that he's from 2018?

Like the World War I captain?

That's exactly what I'm saying.

Uh, Rittenhouse dropped him off,

he lived his life and then
he became a racing legend.

Which means that Rittenhouse
already changed history.

No, no, I've known about
Millerson since I was a kid.

Because they planted him in the past.

All the memories you
have of him are new.

Okay, this is simultaneously

giving me a headache and a panic attack.

What else has changed
that we don't know about?

Whatever he's gonna do has
something to do with that bomb.

This is it.

It's this race, the Darlington 500.

Damn it. I should've thought about that.

What is it?

This is one of the
biggest races of the year.

All the car companies' CEOs are here,

the top engineers, it's
everybody who matters.

So Rittenhouse is just
gonna kill a bunch of

car company executives?

Cars are the most valuable industry

in the world right now.

It could cripple the companies.

Rittenhouse would take
control of all of them.

I mean, they could
basically run Detroit,

which, you know, in 55
was still a big deal.

Hey, Wendell.

What?

We're gonna need you to
get us back into that track.

You're supposed to keep a low profile.

Speaking at a tech symposium
doesn't qualify, no.

I have done everything
you've asked of me

these past two months.

I took the blame for the
explosion at my headquarters.

So we could go underground
without anyone looking for us.

I forfeited my fortune.

You were being funded by Rittenhouse.

Come on, Connor, give me a break.

I allowed myself to
become a global joke,

an embarrassment,

all so that we could fight Rittenhouse.

Now, at some point, these
missions will be over,

and I'll need to move forward.

I need to begin reclaiming my name,

my reputation.

I'm sorry, but you spent over 20 years

with more fame and
fortune than most people

could ever dream of.

A few more months living like
everyone else won't kill you.

So cancel your appearance.

Yeah!

Here's my question.

Why would someone on a suicide mission

decide to fall in love and have a baby?

Almost makes one question
one's commitment to the cause.

I don't care about her.

She's just a way to have
fun while I wait here

for you to come back.

The kid was an accident.

What about those three
that came in here?

Thought they were out of the picture.

Reports of their death were premature.

We'll keep an eye out.

Besides, we've got soldier boy's gun.

You'll be fine.

Maybe it'd be smarter to wait.

- Find another race.
- That'd be nice, wouldn't it?

Maybe spend a little
more time with your wife,

see your kid born.

- You squared away?
- Yeah.

And what about you?

Are you squared away?

Of course I am.

I just snuck your butts out of there.

Now you're asking me
to sneak you back in?

No way.

We didn't wanna have
to tell you this, but

there's a bomb in Ryan Millerson's car.

We think he's planning on
killing a lot of people today.

I don't know what you
three are really up to,

but this whole communism story

sounds like a bunch of bull to me.

You guys mess with Ryan Millerson,

the most popular driver on this circuit,

every official there is
gonna be looking for you.

And seeing as how they're
looking for a reason

to keep me out of races,

I ain't giving them one by
getting mixed up in this.

- Sorry.
- Look.

- People are gonna die.
- Or you're completely nuts.

Uh, what the hell are you doing?

Uh, I'm an engineer, I
thought I'd help fix your car.

You know, I help you, you help us.

- Get your hands off my engine.
- No, I got it, I... ah!

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Wait, wait, wait, are you okay?

- Oh, my God.
- Yeah, some engineer.

Take this for his arm,

and get the hell out of my garage.

- We are so screwed.
- Maybe not.

Right this way, Mr. Mason.

And you'll be seated right here.

Well, that's perfect, thank you.

Okay, you're welcome.

Connor?

Vincent.

I'm shocked to see you here.

What topic do you plan
on speaking on today?

Best ways to file for bankruptcy?

Bankruptcy? That's temporary, Vincent.

Ingenuity, now that lasts forever.

I'm one idea away.

You know ideas have always
come more easily to me

than to you, haven't they?

You must excuse me, I really
have to look at this speech.

I am first up, after all.

Wanker.

Damn it. It was right there.

Clogged fuel filter?

I fixed it.

We really are telling the truth.

I am a fan.

I was a bootlegger.

And people really are in danger.

You gotta get us onto that track, man.

Let's see how you did.

These floats tend to get stuck.

Dad taught you how to drive and wrench?

Sounds like a good man.

He didn't do it out of love.

When I'd mouth off he'd hit me, and, uh,

throw me in the back of
his precious old Chevy,

rip around the backwoods at
night with the lights off,

just to scare the crap out of me.

He'd run the car till something broke.

He'd tell me I wasn't allowed
to come home until I fixed it.

He'd just sit there with
his beer and his cigarettes,

laughing at me.

And I thought my daddy
was a son of a bitch.

Give me a hand with this.

This don't work.

Your daddy's beatings
won't hold a candle

to what I'm gonna do to you.

- What'd your dad do?
- He wasn't mean.

He just liked to gamble too much.

One day, Mom told him to choose

between his family and his racketing.

Never saw him again.

Shoot, I'd use to pray
my dad would run off.

When I turned 15 and
realized he wouldn't,

I did.

I took his car.

- You stole his car?
- Yeah.

Figured he owed me at least that much.

Ran it till the pistons blew
and I drove the damn thing

straight into a lake.

Mm.

- Give it a shot.
- Yeah.

Well...

All right, I'll sneak
y'all back into the track.

Really?

Thank you, so much, um...

just one question.

How are we gonna get back in?

Because I think they're
gonna be looking for us.

Yeah, Rufus will ride up front with me.

And you two are getting in another way.

You two a'ight back there?

Yeah, we're fine.

Right?

So far so good.

So, if you're an engineer,

who can't fix an engine,

what kind of engineer are you?

I work with other types of machines.

Time-related ones.

Clocks?

You need schooling for that?

Never heard of MIT?

I heard of it.

One of the best.

Can't be too many black folk there.

Yeah, yeah, well, you know how it is.

One foot in front of the
other, and never quit.

Sure do.

That's how I plan on attacking NASCAR.

Start winning races.

Got your work cut out for you.

Hell.

What's too tough for everyone else,

that's just right enough for us.

- I'm sorry, I'm so...
- Wildly claustrophobic.

- Not helping.
- Sorry.

Ooh.

- Oh, God.
- Here.

Why don't you just
hang... Hang on to me.

Is all that stuff you
said about your dad true?

Hmm.

I don't know how you do that. Just...

Call him a bastard one second,

and the next be laughing about it.

Maybe it's 'cause I
drove his car into a lake.

I just sort of let it go after that.

Hmm.

You're lucky you never admired him.

Of course I admired him, he was my dad.

For years I thought
that every terrible thing

he did was my fault.

I revered my mother.

I thought she was Superwoman.

Come to find out that
she's just terrible.

Maybe it's a good thing.

What do you mean?

Well, now you know.

You know for sure you can move on.

Nothing ahead but the open road.

Paid the race fees this morning, Carl.

Looking for some unfamiliars.

White couple and a Negro.

Took a run at Millerson.

I know you?

That's George, my cousin.

On my pit crew, you've
seen him half a dozen times.

How's it going, Carl?

We don't all look alike, you know.

Anyway, gotta search your trunk.

Look, man, I'm in a rush, but, uh,

give you ten bucks, you let us
skate on by and get to racing.

Many thanks.

Now open your trunk.

- This really necessary...
- Now.

All good?

Told you I had it.

You all right?

Wasn't expecting that.

Didn't mean to interrupt.

Ryan.

Hey, baby.

You can't be here in your condition.

Go home and rest, huh?

Well, might've, but that
reporter that stopped by

earlier came and got me,
and said you wanted me here.

Hey, my eyes on you
won't make you nervous.

Make you calm, right?

Right.

I love you.

I love you back.

Take her away from here.

I'm begging you, please.

Well, what does it matter if
she's just part of your cover?

I'll be sitting right
next to her in the stands.

Carry out your mission, or she dies.

It's that simple, you understand?

Yes.

Ryan.

Press wants a few last
photos and interviews

before the big race.

- 'Course.
- Come on in, fellas.

Gather around.

- Look over there.
- Who's that?

Those are the guys from
Ford, GM and Chrysler.

Ryan's gonna ram into
them with that bomb.

Kill 'em all.

Good Lord.

We gotta get in Millerson's garage.

We're just gonna go
in there without a gun?

Well, we don't really
have any other choice.

Getting in isn't the problem.

Getting out is.

I got it.

It's cold, so I'll Casper.

You head in and rip a cherry,

then make a snow angel and go to church.

Rip it? In front of everyone?

Do you have any idea what
they're talking about?

I think it's smuggle talk.

That or they're both having a stroke.

- Come on, man.
- All right, yeah.

Wait, wait. You're just gonna leave?

It's all good. Come on.

So why'd you decide to go
with Chevrolet as a sponsor?

Here's my answer.

So you're predicting first?

By three laps.

I like being the
opposite of an underdog.

Makes me remember that I was once a...

You were once what?

Uh...

M... Mr. Millerson?

Hey, somebody break it off.

Hey, stop it!

You two, stop it now.

Somebody get the cops.

Ryan!

Ryan, stop.

Stop!

Wyatt.

Go, come on.

He armed the bomb.

What? Then disarm it!

I gotta get to the engine.

No!

Rufus!

Wyatt, I don't know if you know this,

but the bomb in this
car is pressure-sensitive

and we are going really fast.

Guys!

We've got company.

- Wyatt, it's still armed.
- Okay, I get it, Rufus.

Good, because if you so much
as hit a bug, we're done.

Well, in order to get
away from them, Rufus,

I might need to hit a couple of bugs.

Guys, they're gonna hit us.

Hang on.

- You lost one!
- Hang on.

If you wanna slow down, feel free.

Too fast, you're gonna hit the car.

Phew!

How we doing?

Uh, you sure that won't go off?

Yeah, pretty sure. I think so.

Just kidding.

Well, thank you

for everything.

Wasn't nothing, ma'am.

That was some driving out there.

We should hit the track some time.

You have no idea how amazing it is

you're asking me to do that.

I'll be here.

Like that?

That's pretty good.

It's gonna catch on at
some point, so, you know,

- you'll be a trendsetter.
- Maybe.

I'll have won my first
race for sure by then.

What?

Y'all don't think I can do it?

We...

It's not that, I'm sure
you will, it's just...

you really think they'll
give a black man the prize?

Of course not.

What, y'all think I'm thick?

They ain't gonna call
no race for a black man.

Sure as hell won't give me no trophy.

Why do it?

I wanna race and be the best.

No more wisdom behind it than that.

And if they don't like it, screw 'em.

Give 'em hell, Wendell.

You burned it.

Yeah, it's nothing.

Hey, it's fine.

You know what I was thinking?

Maybe we could make breakfast
for everyone in the morning?

You in?

Sure.

- I'll see you in the morning.
- Good night.

Good night.

And it is with this vision and...

Mr. Mason, quite a crowd out there.

- We're about to open the doors.
- Great, thank you.

You're welcome.

Sir.

You need to come with us. Now.

Get your hands off
me. You know who I am.

You're Connor Mason
and you're under arrest

for conspiracy to commit
fraud and aiding and abetting

an enemy of the state.

You can't do this to me here.

You can walk out or be carried.

Pick one.

Thought you were first up.

You did it to yourself. I warned you.

That was unforgivable.

Unforgivable is putting
the team in danger

just to feed your own ego.

If you ever try to pull
anything like this ever again,

you will walk into a prison
and you will never walk out.

Do you understand me?

Connor.

- Yes.
- Good.

You failed. That's the short of it.

Yep, we failed 'cause your daughter,

who you should've let me kill
in 1918, is still out there.

So this is my fault.

I'm saying you share
some responsibility, yes.

For everything.

Two more of our soldiers are
dead after listening to you.

Our course will soon be set.

Why, because of dear leader Nicholas?

Watch your mouth.

Without his writings
we wouldn't be here.

Where is here exactly?

Is your aloof, younger
grandfather ready to lead

or is he still asking for pickled eggs?

Ma'am, you have to take a look at this.

What the hell is this?

It's a map.

Don't call it that.

A map is for explorers.

That isn't who we are.

It doesn't do us justice.

What we are are artists.

Time is our canvass, and this

is our brush.

When did you do all this?

While the rest of you were
rolling your eyes at me,

contemplating whether or
not I was a competent leader.

Now it's time to begin
preserving human culture.

Taking what's best of us,

and subtracting and
sloughing away the worst.

Shaping, cutting away at the rock

that is the human race, until
it resembles something like

Michelangelo's "David."

Until it reaches...

perfection everlasting.

We few will save the world.

Wow.

- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans -
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