"| remember my Gram going there a few times when | was a kid. | 
never really knew it as anything other than a big containment 
country." 


"Oh, so you grew up in the know, then? That's kind of interesting." 


Ralph shrugged. "| guess, | don't know how much of it was different. 


The Foundation has... pretty extensive childcare stuff, so | got to go 
to school, have friends, be normal... at least | think | did." 


"Did you ever have your parents in the picture?" Conwell stood, 
striding over to a nearby locker and retrieving a submarine 
sandwich. "I know | still can write to mine and see them at 
Christmas." 


"None of your business." 


Conwell frowned for a second, pausing as he prepared to bite. 
"Offensive line of questioning then, sorry for asking." 


Shaking his head, Ralph crossed his arms and looked away. "No, 
I'm sorry. I'm just a little wound up about all this. y'know?" 


"Understandable. If someone tried to assassinate one of my family 
members, I'd probably be a little upset too." 


"Tried to assassinate one family member and muck up the mind of 
another." 


Conwell nodded. "I heard about your sister. | hope she recovers." 
"Thank you." 


A silence hung in the air for a moment. The plane ran through a 
patch of turbulence, and both men gripped the sides of the table as 
the interior rattled. 


"You said your grandma came here before... have you been at all?" 
Conwell peered out a window, perusing the deep blue sea below. "! 
want to get some idea of what to expect." 


Ralph shook his head. "I've got no idea. I've read lots about it, but 
it's really hard to get concrete facts unless you're directly involved in 
things. Which... even if we're asking something, we're not getting 
the full picture." 


"| would like to have some kind of information, even just an outline. 
Dictators don't often appreciate when you bother them with pointless 
questions, so getting some knowledge might give us an edge." 


Shrugging again, Ralph leaned his chair back, balancing it on two 
legs. "Well, this was kind of a last-minute trip so we didn't get all the 
arrangements you might get on a mission prepared by someone 
else." 


Conwell's eye twitched. "So, wait, we're just walking in here 
completely blind?" 


"We don't even have an appointment." 
"So this is just going to go splendidly." 


Just then, they began descending. Ralph toppled out backwards 
from his chair and fell flat upon his back. Staring at the top of the 
canopy, he closed his eyes. "If we waited any longer, the trail 
would've gone cold. Vang tried to kill the only family I've got. | can't 
let him get away." 


"A personal vendetta is not an excuse for unpreparedness. If you're 
going to pursue him this hastily he's going to see you coming a mile 
away." 


Standing and brushing himself off, Ralph sat back down in a seat by 
the side. "We'll see how it goes. I'm sure everything will be fine." 


The plane touched down on a long empty plain of concrete. At the 
tarmac, there were dignitaries. Ralph frowned. Nobody had said 
anything about dignitaries. 


Kumsusan Palace Of The Sun 
Pyongyang, North Korea 


Kim Jong-Un's inner chamber was a lavish affair. A long, marble 
floor stretched from end to end, with a dozen red columns in rows on 
each side. Above them was a massive mosaic, depicting 
courageous Korean soldiers steamrolling a row of capitalist 
American dogs. Behind that, a massive Korean tank was 
demolishing the U.S Senate, while Korean jet planes carpet-bombed 
the national mall. It was an impressive sight to behold. 


"Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with us, your 
excellency." Ralph said, looking around the majestic splendor of the 
palace. "You must have a very busy schedule." 


"Your kind comments are noted." The voice was light, with a faint 
Korean accent. 


"| like your decor," said Ralph, sitting upon a cushion across from 
Kim "It's very... epic." 


Conwell gave Ralph his best get-to-the-point face, then smiled at 
Kim. 


Kim, however, appeared to be amused. Smiling in turn, he spoke. 
"Thank you. It was designed by my grandfather." 


Conwell, seated beside Ralph, sipped on tea from the table between 
them and Kim. "Your English is very good, sir." 


Kim's smile widened to a grin. "You are too kind. But | must ask for 
what purpose you come here? | was not expecting to see another 
representative of the Foundation so soon. Your last tribute mission 
only just departed." 


Ralph slid Vang's dossier across the table. "This man may have 
come by your palace recently. We need to know what he wanted, 
and where he's going." 


Kim opened the dossier and began browsing the contents, picking 
out a picture of Vang."Was he a rogue, then? | thought he might be. 
A very nervous character, left like the breeze almost as soon as he 
had arrived. But he was a very respectable guest." 


"That man attempted to kill my grandmother. | need to know where 
he's going.” 


"An assassin? Not what | expected. If you think that you're in a 
position to be asking questions already, then you clearly don't know 
how proceedings go in our system." 


Ralph frowned. "What?" 


"Ah, my time is up, I'm afraid." Kim rose, gesturing for Conwell and 
Ralph to rise with him. "If you stayed overnight, or perhaps a week, 
we could discuss things more fully." 


"Why not now?" 


Kim's smile vanished in an instant. "Because a knave has come to 
my kingdom, bearing no tribute, expecting me to answer his 
questions like he is above me. You are lucky if you even get out of 
here in one piece!" 


"What?" Conwell and Ralph looked at one another, then back to 
Kim. 


"As | have demonstrated before, the presence of the Stele doesn't 
mean | defer to your organization's every whim." Kim began 
snapping his fingers. As he did so two men in Korean People's Army 
uniforms stepped into the room, pointing rifles at the pair. "Now, if 
you will excuse me, | have important business to attend to." 


Ryugyong Hotel, 69th Floor 
Pyongyang, North Korea 


The Ryugyong hotel was a structure that dominates the skyline of 
Pyongyang. A huge wavy structure akin to a rollar coaster, it had 
once been intended as a hotel but was now used by the regime to 
house some sensitive prisoners. Ralph stood by the door to their 
cell. 


It had some remnants of hotel room, rivet marks on the floor where 
furniture might once have stood and markings on the floor where 
walls had been knocked down. The far wall had been knocked out 
completely, and was open air, allowing full view of the city below. 


Conwell was sitting on the ledge, staring out the gaping fourth wall 
of their prison cell. Below him was the outstretched silent maze of 
Pyongyang. The wind whipped through their makeshift cell. and the 
utter silence of the city enveloped them like a blanket. Every few 
minutes, the sound of heavy-stepping boots would march by their 


door. "What do you think he intends to do with us?" 


Ralph looked back from the door. "Probably extract some kind of 
concessions or money, maybe exchange of personnel. They get a 
lot from holding people hostage, actually." 


Conwell peered over the edge of the cell, looking down. "What do 
you think about scaling down ourselves?" 


"It's doubtful we'd make it. This thing is like a hundred million stories 
tall, and we're near the top." 


"But if they're all rooms, we don't have to go all the way down. Just 
down to a room that's unlocked. We can figure it out from there." 


"Let's skip the first part. This building is a hundred thousand billion 
trillion stories tall and I'd rather not eat pavement for my last 
supper." 


Frowning, Conwell turned to look at Ralph. "Do you actually know 
how tall it is, or are you going to keep bullshitting me?" 


"Shhh. | think they're switching up the guard." Ralph put his ear to 
the door. "Yep. Alright, hold on for a second." He began to fiddle 
with the lock, which clicked and clacked cooperatively. 


Before he could be asked what exactly he was doing, Ralph had 
opened the door. "Come on. We don't have a lot of time." 


Ralph looked out into the hall. It was a dusty, empty corridor, with 
sections of the floor and walls crumbling to reveal the massive 
concrete skeleton that comprised most of the building. As they crept 
down the hall, Ralph kept his eyes peeled for any sign of an exit. 


Conwell leaned into Ralph's ear to whisper. "Where did you learn to 
pick locks?" 


"It's easier than you'd think. I've taken classes on this kinds of stuff, 
it was part of my education growing up." 


"What?" Conwell stopped in his tracks. "You learned how to pick 
locks in schoo/?" 


"When your education is taken care of by the Foundation, you learn 
some interesting stuff.” 


Suddenly, there was a commotion from a ways behind them. 
Turning, Ralph could see that the door to their cell was opened, and 
KPA soldiers were standing by. "We have to hurry!" 


Quickly and quietly scurrying down the hall, they quickly reached a 
staircase. Hopping onto the handrail, Ralph began sliding down, 
followed by Conwell quickly making his way down the steps. It was a 
long way down. 


Alarms were blaring by the time they got near the bottom. Also at 
the bottom was an emergency exit. Another klaxon joined the mass 
of alarms as they burst out of the building. 


Ralph looked to Conwell. "You think they've noticed we're gone?" 


Instead of responding, Conwell looked around. "We gotta find some 
way to get out of here. | didn't see a lot of cars..." 


Just then, the sound of squealing rubber filled the air. Dark vans had 
pulled up at both sides of the alleyway in which they were standing. 
KPA soldiers emerged, wielding dark batons and handguns. Ralph 
looked around wildly. As the soldiers began to advance on them, a 
manhole cover came to his notice. 


Quickly lifting the lid, Ralph began climbing down. Conwell took the 
hint and clambored down after him. The KPA soldiers, seeing this, 
began running and firing at them, yelling angrily about their 
ancestors in Korean. Behind them, as they proceeded through the 
sloppy sewage, they could hear the soldiers balking at jumping after 
them. 


Ryugyong Hotel Parking Garage 


Conwell was the first one to emerge from the sewers. They were 
surprisingly spacious, however they were also filled with some of the 
least trafficked sewage they had ever beheld. Making it even a few 
blocks from their breakout had been an ordeal. Ralph clamored out 


after him, gasping and flapping for fresh air. 


Ralph stood first, wiping some of the raw sewage off of himself. 
"Alright, so... wheels. We need them." 


Looking around, Conwell walked over to the nearest, largest van. It 
had the emblem of the Korean Workers Party emblazoned on the 
side, along with two Korean women with angry fists upraised. Plus, 
there was a sunroof. "This one might be good for punching past 
blockades between us and the airport." 


Nodding, Ralph began walking towards the van. "Sounds like a plan, 
Stan." 


As they climbed in, Conwell began looking around the cabin. "So 
you knew how to pick locks, any chance your schooling taught you 
to hotwire a car?" 


"No, but check around. A lot of times, in places like this where the 
car's not likely to be stolen, keys end up getting left in the car for 
convenience's sake." Ralph clicked his seatbelt in place, and began 
searching through the glove compartment. 


Flipping down the visor, a glittering prize fell into Conwell's lap. 
"Hey! | think I've found them." 


"Terrific." Ralph slammed the compartment closed, and tried to wipe 
some more of the sludge from his face. "Let's blow this Popsicle 
stand." 


The streets of Pyongyang were utterly devoid of traffic. As they 
surged out of the parking garage, there were a few vans pulled up 
outside but they were thrust aside by the force of their impact. 
Struggling to stay in control of his vehicle, Conwell gritted his teeth 
and gripped the steering wheel. The game was afoot. 


Civilians and loitering soldiers alike dived out of the way as they 
raced down the street. As Conwell slammed on the brakes to slide 
around a corner, there came a groaning sound from the rear of the 
vehicle. Ralph pulled back a piece of opaque glass separating the 
cabin from the interior, and saw to his surprise a Foundation Agent 


Time: 13:13 

Duration: 10 min approx. 

Observed: Researcher Ford looked thoroughly confused upon 
exiting the tree house. He then explained that he had seen four men 
in lumberjack attire gathered around a log. None of the men had any 
apparent facial features. One carried a trumpet that appeared to be 
made of brass, and was holding it next to where a mouth would be. 
Another was dribbling a basketball between both his hands. The 
third carried a birdcage containing a gray bird similar to a pigeon. 
The last had a jar of peanut butter and a plastic knife that it was 
using to butter the log. Researcher Ford was oddly concerned with 
the fact that the peanut butter jar didn't seem to run out even after 
ten minutes of spreading it on the log. This was noted as within 
normal parameters and did not warrant any psychological testing. 


Name: Dr. Gums 

Date: 5/27/2013 

Time: 14:35 

Duration: 42 min approx. 

Observed: A swarm of insects resembling Vespa mandarinia (Asian 
Giant Hornet) were observed to be feeding on the burnt corpse of an 
unidentified mammal. After about 10 minutes, a live version of the 
mammal, seemingly on fire and led by what appeared to be a 
bipedal Crocodylus porosus (Saltwater Crocodile), appeared in- 
view. The bipedal crocodile proceeded to tear off a low-hanging 
branch of a nearby tree and carve it into a crude approximation of a 
flute. About 20 minutes in, it played the makeshift flute, causing the 
hornets to spasm uncontrollably for a period of about 5 seconds and 
cease motion. The mammal proceed to systematically crush and 
consume the hornets for the duration of the observation. 


Name: Dr. Miller 

Date: 11/05/2014 

Time: 10:24 

Duration: 17 minutes 

Observed: A line of approximately 200 aardvarks (Orycteropus afer) 
marched past the observation post two by two. The aardvarks were 
colored with various bright patterns in a tie-dye fashion. 


Name: Dr. King 


lying in the backseat. 

"Hey! They've got one of our guys here!" 

Conwell glanced over incredulously. "What? How?" 
"Could've been a parting gift from Vang." 


"Well, we're almost there, try to see if you can get him up and 
moving!" 


Squeezing through the small space, Ralph popped into the 
backseat. The agent had a bruise on his temple and a shaved head, 
but other than that didn't look much worse for wear given his 
abduction by the hermit kingdom. Checking his pockets, a 
Foundation-issued ID denoted the man as Agent Aaron Ekblad, a 
pilot for Psi-7. 


Checks out 


Using all the medical knowledge he had, Ralph proceeded to begin 
slapping Ekblad's face to rouse him from sleep. "Hey! Wake up! 
We're gettin’ outta here!" 


Mumbling something about cabbages, the agent turned his head 
away from Ralph's striking hand. Repeating the process resulted in 
an opening of the man's eyes, blinking in the filtered sunlight. "Huh? 
What... is it still number one with a bullet?" 


"What? Never mind. We're escaping North Korea and | need you to 
be ready for that." 


Conwell shouted from up front. "We're here! Get ready!" 


Ralph looked out the window. Amazingly, their plane was still there, 
along with about a half-dozen KPA keeps. The plane itself was 
busily taxiing out of there. 


Turning back to the dazed agent, Ralph yelled to Conwell. "Throw 
the sunroof up!" 


"What?" Conwell threw the steering wheel left to right, trying to avoid 


the KPA vehicles as they rushed at their van. 


"I'm gonna prop him up so that they can see him from the plane! 
They won't leave one of their own behind!"