The Platform - Sci-Fi 2019 English

There are three types of person.

Those at the top,

those at the bottom,

and those who fall.

Level 48.

- The hole.
- Yes.

The hole.

And it's the start of the month.

So the question is:

What are we going to eat?

Obvious. The people above's left-overs.

- Who are the people up above?
- The people on Level 47. Obviously.

My name's Goreng.

Please stay on your side of the hole.

Goreng.

What name have they given you?

Yes.

We should know each other's names.

We'll be together for a long time.

Or maybe not.

Who knows?

My name is Trimagasi.

Mr. Trimagasi, do you know
what the hole entails?

It's obvious: eating.

At times, it's easy,

others, difficult...

It depends where you're assigned.

Fortunately, No. 48 is a good level.

Are there many more people below?
Don't tell me...

It's obvious.

Soon, there will be fewer of them.

- You, down there! Can you hear me?
- Don't speak to the people below.

- Why?
- Because they're down below.

The people above won't answer you.

- Why?
- Because they're above, obviously.

You think it's all very obvious.
You must have been here a long time.

Months. Many, many months.

And I repeat, 48 is a good level,

and you've been very lucky.

And how long are we going to spend
on this wonderful level?

We'll be here for exactly a month.

Then, we will see.

That's the last question I'll answer.

Speaking tires me out.

Especially when I have to give
more information than I get.

That's not fair, obviously.

From now on,

I will give you as much information
as you give me.

The red light went off
and the green one came on.

I've just given you information.

Now, it's only fair for you
to give me some, right?

Why did the red light go off
and the green one come on?

This food has already been eaten.

That's so obvious,
I won't even say obviously.

It's disgusting.

Let's see.

If there are 47 levels above us
and two people per level,

are we eating 94 people's left-overs?

Don't worry.

As the month goes by,
there'll be fewer people up above.

- Aren't you going to eat?
- I'm not hungry.

You will be.

Why did you say there'd be
fewer people next month?

I won't say it's obvious,
because it's not.

I didn't understand myself
till I was on Level 8.

Wine!

There must be quite a few Muslims
and teetotallers up there.

Normally, the drinks all gone by now.

Are you really not going to eat?

For later.

Why did you do that?

For the people down there to eat.

What if the people above did the same?

They probably do.

Bastards.

- Isn't it very hot in here?
- And it'll get even hotter.

Hotter?

We'll be burned to a cinder.

Really? Why?

It's your fault.

The temperature will keep rising
unchecked unless...

- Unless what?
- Unless you get rid of that apple.

The food only belongs to us
while the platform is on our level.

If you keep anything,
the temperature rises till we're cooked.

Or falls till we freeze.

It depends.

Shit.

Do you understand?

I said, do you understand?

What?

Once you're inside, you can't get out
till the agreed period is over.

So, I've been accepted?

Not yet.

Can my item be a book?

It can be whatever you want.

THE INGENIOUS GENTLEMAN
DON QUIXOTE

I'd like to tell you why I'm here.

What for?

So that then you'll tell me
why you're here.

It's obvious.

I wanted to quit smoking
and read Don Quixote.

They said I could bring an item.
So, I thought I've never...

You came here voluntarily?

Six months in exchange
for an accredited diploma.

An accredited diploma?

I should get two.

I came for a year.

Why are you here?

They give this guy one, and not me.

I'd stand back if I were you.

- Aren't you going to eat today either?
- Obviously not.

What a waste!

You don't deserve to be on this level.

You haven't told me why you're here.

Come on. Tell me.

Only if you promise
not to borrow the word obviously again.

I was at home, and an ad came on TV.
A bearded chap with a knife-sharpener.

The Samurai-Max sharpens any blade,
straight or serrated, he said.

Look at this knife.

It's so blunt, it wouldn't cut a sponge.

But just apply the Samurai-Max,

and you can cut even the hardest surfaces,
like this brick.

And it was true. He cut it.

Then, a few housewives came on,

saying how the Samurai-Max
had changed their lives.

We could never cut tomatoes,

bread fell to pieces when we cut it.

The Samurai-Max changed our lives,
they all said.

Honestly, I've never peeled a tomato,

and I always buy sliced bread.

And I've never known why you'd want
to cut a brick with a kitchen knife.

But I started to think...

Why don't I sharpen my knives?

Maybe my life is such crap
because I don't sharpen my knives,

don't look after the little things.

- The little things, Goreng.
- Did you buy it?

- Obviously.
- And what did you do?

Sharpen your knives and slice open
someone's throat, or what?

After I bought it,
I watched the next advertisement.

The same guy with the beard
came on with the same housewives.

Know what they were advertising?

A knife that didn't go blunt
even if you cut a brick with it.

The knife sharpened itself, as it cut.

Know what the knife was called?

- The Samurai-Plus.
- You bought it too?

- No, no...
- Obviously, they were taking the piss.

The little things...

Because of the little things,
I couldn't take it any more.

I took my television set...

and threw it out the window.

It fell on some bloody illegal immigrant
on his bicycle.

Tell me, was that guy's death my fault?

He shouldn't even have been there.

You killed a man, and they took you here?

They gave me a choice between
a psychiatric hospital and the hole.

And I came here.

They never offered me
an accredited diploma, though.

How many levels are there?

I don't know. But I know there are
more than 132, because I was there.

One hundred and thirty two?

And there were more below.

- How much food gets to that level?
- None.

You can't go without food for 30 days.

I didn't say I didn't eat anything,

just that no food got down there.

And you can go without food
for more than 30 days.

The problem is when you get assigned
to two lower levels consecutively.

We need to tell the people up there.

- What for?
- What do you mean?

We can tell them to ration the food
and pass the message up to Level 46,

and from there to Level 45...

Are you a communist?

It's fairer to ration out the food.

Up there, they won't heed a communist.

Then I'll start with down below.

Hey! You in 49, can you hear me?

Leave more wine next time, bastards!

There's your wine, fuckers!

The people below us are below us.

- Next month they might be above us.
- Yes, and they'll piss on us.

The bastards.

I chose a book.

What did you choose?

It's obvious.

The Samurai-Plus.

Do you never get tired of doing that?

It's incredible.

The more I use it, the sharper it gets.

- Was that a person?
- Of course it was a person.

I hope he wasn't a teetotaller,

because we're low on wine.

On the upper levels,
you can eat anything you like.

But you've nothing to look forward to.

And a lot to think about.

Is no one going to do anything?

If I were you, I'd pray they keep us
on the middle levels.

You look like the sort who'd jump
when they're up above

and lack the guts when they're below.

The guts to do what?

Will you read your book to me tonight?

These days, I can't get to sleep.

I miss my television.

What levels have you been on?

I first woke up on Level 72.

Then I was on 26,

seventy-eight, 43,

eleven, 79,

thirty-two, 8...

Last month, I was on Level 132,

- and now, I'm here.
- Okay, and who were you with?

Because I gather you always wake up
with the same person.

- Who were you with?
- Why do you gather that?

Because you said we'd be together
next month. Who were you with?

It doesn't matter. What matters is
that you have a self-sharpening knife,

and your cellmate disappeared

after you were on a level
that gets hardly any food.

And you don't look like
you spent a month without food.

The conclusion is obvious, isn't it?

You promised not to use that word again.

Obviously, you forgot
the fifth commandment.

Obviously, you dined on your cellmate.

Don't worry about her. Eat.

- Is she injured?
- Nothing serious.

Isn't that right, Miharu?

You know her?

She comes down every month.

- Why does she do that?
- She's looking for her little boy.

There are children in the hole?

Well, well... So, you'd like to keep her
for a couple of days?

I took you for a man of principles.

I want to help her.

I am helping her.

In the hole, everyone's free to decide
what they want.

She wants to go down.

Know what she does each month?

Before coming down on the platform,
she kills her cellmate.

That way, there's a chance she might be
with her son the next month.

I wouldn't be surprised
if that body you saw was her cellmate.

I didn't kill anyone on Level 132.

Quite simply, my cellmate
completed his time in the hole.

He'll be out there now,
making it big with his accredited diploma.

After eight days, a body fell
just when the platform was at our level.

We ate human flesh.

But we didn't kill anybody.

Hey!

Hey! Hey!

Leave her alone, you bastards!

They'll only keep her a couple of days.
Don't meddle.

- Will you read from your book tonight...
- Hey!

Go ahead! Jump!

It's only six or seven meters down.

What chapter do you want me to read?

Chapter One, obviously.

Jesus!

Somewhere in La Mancha, in a place
whose name I do not care to remember,

a gentleman lived not long ago,
one of those who has a lance

an old shield, a nag and a racing dog.

Do you believe in God?

Why do you ask?

If you do, I want you to pray for us.

Smell that?

It's gas.

In a moment, they'll put us to sleep.

Tomorrow, we'll wake on another level.

I'm fond of you, Goreng.

I don't think you'll survive long.

But I'm fond of you.

You've got a good heart.

Next month will be my second-to-last.

When I get out,
I should have an accredited diploma.

And that's no small matter.

Do you believe in God?

This month, yes.

You sleep very soundly, Goreng.

Don't worry, don't worry.

Calm down.

This is not a good place.
Do you understand now?

You're younger and stronger than me.

You might not attack me immediately,

but over time,
you'd start to look at me differently.

Hunger unleashes that madman in us.

It's better to eat than be eaten.

Obviously, I don't want to kill you.

Your flesh would soon rot,

and we'd have nothing to eat.

Nor will I mutilate you right away.

For the first week, fasting is bearable.

Have you ever eaten snails?

Refined people call them escargots.

They're highly prized in some places.

Before you eat them, you have
to purge them for seven to ten days.

So, there's no need to be scared. Yet.

Can you hear that?

The screams of people waking

to discover what level they're on.

You don't have to do this, Trimagasi.

As time goes by,
our friendship would deteriorate.

And it would end in mutual mistrust,

ultimately leading to conflict and crime.

I know, because I've experienced it.

You're a fucking murderer.

No. I'm someone who's frightened.

I don't enjoy this, my little snail.

I'm not a fucking snail.

I'm sorry. It's easier for me
to think of you as a snail

purging its impurities.

You see, I'm really quite sentimental.

See that?

They haven't even left us any bones!

Let's see, my little snail,

you're tied down. I'm not.

You have a book. I have my Samurai-Plus.

Obviously, you're in no position
to make demands.

But if you cooperate,

I can offer you a chance to live.

You can't mutilate someone here
without killing them, you bastard.

I promise, I'll do what I can.

After eight days, I'll start cutting off
little strips of flesh.

Each time, I'll do my best
to treat your wounds.

And I'll give you your share.

A share of myself?

Think of your own survival and help me.

I hope you'll see reason,

and we can go on reading Don Quixote.

Let's see. That person's death
might have been an accident,

but this isn't.

You will be solely responsible
for my death, you bastard.

No. The people above make me do it.

Three hundred and forty people
are to blame before me.

We can survive
just by drinking water, Trimagasi.

You might last out,

but I'm an old man.

I need to remember that next month
will be my last one here.

And if I survive... what happens
if we're sent to another bad level?

- Now you get it, don't you?
- Obviously not.

- Will you read Don Quixote to me tonight?
- Obviously not.

In that case, that's an end to it.

Speaking tires me out.

Keeping quiet tires you out!

The time has come, my little snail.

I was trying to read...

but I can't.

The words get mixed up.

My mind clouds over.

Better for you if we start today.

Otherwise, I can't guarantee
to make a clean job of it.

I want you to know
that I hold you responsible.

Not the people up above.

Not the circumstances.

Not even the Administration.

You.

You're well purged, my little snail.

Inside and out.

You don't even feel any resentment.

Don't worry, just a few morsels of flesh.

I won't touch your genitals.

Are you ready?

Thank you.

What's your boy called?

Eat...

or be eaten?

You made me.

No.

I was helpless and you showed no mercy.

You didn't treat me with the same respect
I would have shown you.

Obviously.

Still using that word when you're dead.

It smells of gas.

And you're an illusion.

Perhaps.

What does it matter? We're the same now.

Both murderers.

The difference is that I'm more civilized.

- Go.
- No. I'll never go.

I belong to you now. I am in your body.

But you belong to me too,

my snail.

Speaking tires me out.

See? I was right.

Ramesses II! Come here, honey.

Animal! He was only being friendly.

I'm Imoguiri. This is Ramesses II.

Can you bring animals into the hole?

There was no way
I was coming without him, Goreng.

It's not a great idea
to bring a sausage dog in here.

In here, he's more sausage than dog.

I thought someone who chose a book
would be more sensitive with animals.

No one ever brought a book before.

People have asked for everything:
guns, crossbows,

knives, torches,

golf clubs, baseball bats...

- even an exercise bike.
- How do you know my name?

You can smoke if you want.

- Shall we continue?
- Yes.

Any gluten or lactose intolerance?

No.

Any allergy to shellfish, peanuts,
or any type of fruit?

Not that I know of.

You know that once you go in,
you won't be able to smoke?

Yes, I know.

Are these pauses part of the interview?

Do they make you uncomfortable?

No.

Your favourite food?

I don't know.

Think hard, please.

Why do you want to know?

We'll include it on the menu.

So, I've been accepted?

Not yet.

Escargots à la Bourguignonne.

Snails?

- Yes.
- Okay.

- Can you get me out of here?
- You know I can't.

How many did you send to this pigsty
before they sent you?

If I remember correctly,
you came here voluntarily.

No one sent me. I asked to be sent too.

So, you don't know
there are people dying in the hole?

We prefer to call it
a Vertical Self-Management Center.

How many levels are there?

Two hundred levels.

Two hundred?

There isn't enough food for 200 levels.

If everyone ate only what they needed,

the food would reach the lowest levels.

- No, it's not that easy in here.
- No, it isn't.

Or on the outside.

But eventually,
something has to happen in the VSC.

Something that fosters
a spontaneous sense of solidarity.

The VSC? Spontaneous solidarity?

Is that why they created this pit?

Change never happens spontaneously.

Perhaps, that's why you're here.

I'll be glad just to get out alive.

That's it. Isn't that delicious?

You know that what you're doing
could cause the death of a human?

That's it.

One day, I eat, and the next, he does.
It's my ration.

Maybe the death of a child.

Under-16s aren't allowed in the hole.

There's at least one child.

Under-16s aren't allowed in the hole.

The VSC Administration
is very strict about that.

Good morning.

Please listen carefully.

I've left two helpings to one side

so you can each eat your share.

Please prepare two similar rations
for the people on the next level.

What? We've just been in Level 88.
It's a miracle we're alive!

I understand, but we have
a responsibility to those

less fortunate that us this month.

Your rations contain enough calories
to ensure your survival.

Please, gentlemen!

Spontaneous solidarity.

Perhaps this place exists precisely
for the opposite of what you think.

If that solidarity emerged, they'd know
to prevent it happening on the outside.

- Who's they?
- Who do you think?

The Administration.

You're one of those people who thinks
all the Administration does is bad.

I've worked for them for 25 years.

And you enjoy special privileges.

- What are you saying?
- You got to choose your cellmate.

Not me.

Gentlemen, I understand
you were hungry yesterday,

and you didn't pay any notice to me.

But it's important you only eat
the helpings I've prepared.

And make two more for Level 35.

Leave us alone!

We'll eat what we fucking like!

Sooner or later, you will see reason.

Are you real?

Gentlemen, please, eat your rations
and prepare two similar ones for the...

Gentlemen, please,

eat your rations
and prepare two similar ones for the...

Gentlemen, please.

Eat your share
and prepare two similar rations...

Gentlemen, please, eat your rations
and prepare two similar ones...

Gentlemen, I have prepared your rations

and the rations for Level 35
to make things easier for you.

Please prepare two...

Please, it's been two weeks.

This time, please follow my instructions

because there are people dying
beneath your feet.

Do you understand me? People are dying!

Okay, bastards.

You do exactly what the lady says,

or I'm going to shit
in your food every day.

I'll mix it all up till there isn't
a grain of rice left untouched.

Do you hear?

You're going to eat shit every day.

And now, go and say the same
to the bastards beneath you.

Is that clear?

Right.

It seems to be working.

Obviously.

But it's not what I thought.

I thought I'd persuade them.

They're persuaded.

With shit?

Much more effective
than your spontaneous solidarity.

Let's see if now we can persuade
the people up above.

The people above won't listen to me.

Why not?

I can't shit upwards.

Help me! Help me!

Okay, calm down, calm down.

It's the mother of the boy.

The pillow, the pillow!

Don't worry.

Don't worry. It's okay.

- What?
- So cold.

It's cold.

That's it.

I'm cold, too.

What's happening?

Fucking dog. Come here!

Bastard, come here! Let go!

I hate you.

You vile bitch!

- I hate you!
- Hey!

What? What?

It's because of her son.

Seriously? I don't know.

I've never been a mother.

Hey! Is this our helping for today?

That's fucking ace, man.

I selected that woman ten months ago,
and she came here alone.

She has no father and no children.

Her favourite dish is bibimbap.

She's a movie actress.
She brought a ukulele.

She wanted to look like Marilyn Monroe
in the film.

She came into the hole on her own.

You hear, Goreng?

Completely alone.

The bitch wanted to be
the Asian Marilyn Monroe.

With her slit eyes, playing the ukulele...

And now she's a crazed killer
looking for a non-existent child.

A spontaneous act of solidarity.

Solidarity covered in shit.

This isn't a great place
for someone who likes books.

I've worked for them for 25 years.

For eight years,
I've sent people to this hell.

I didn't know what I was doing,
because I didn't know.

I swear I didn't know.

Do you believe me, Goreng?

You don't believe me, do you?

Right now, I need you to believe me.

Look at me, Goreng.
I fought cancer for three years.

And the day I found out
I'd lost the fight...

I applied to come here, to help.

But you know something?

That doesn't matter any more.

I don't care any more.

I don't care about anything any more.

Who the hell would bring a book here?

Who the hell would bring
a fucking book here?

Look, it's a miracle
nobody's touched the snails.

Don't you want to eat something?

I'll put a couple in each helping, okay?

Imoguiri, why don't you eat a bit?

It's Ramesses II's turn today.

It's the last day, you should eat.

We don't know where we'll be tomorrow.

Aren't you going to take her down?

You were her friend.

Are you going to eat her?

Of course you are, Goreng.
Why do you think I hung myself?

It would have been much easier to jump,
like most people do.

But I wanted to leave you a gift.

My body.

I want you to feed off my body, Goreng.

I want you to digest it,
then flush it out like redeeming shit.

Remember: solidarity or shit.

Do you think covering your ears
will do any good?

We're inside your head, you idiot!

Did you call him an idiot, idiot?

You're talking to the Messiah.

The Messiah of Shit,
but still the Messiah.

- Eat me, Goreng.
- The madwoman is right.

It's your only chance of survival.

That's right. Cut slices of my flesh
and eat my body.

Oh, Saviour!

Verily I say unto you:

If you eat not the flesh of the Son of Man
nor drink of his blood,

ye have no life.

He that eateth my flesh
and drinketh my blood

hath eternal life.

I will raise him up at the last day.

For my flesh is meat indeed,

and my blood is drink indeed.

He that eateth my flesh
and drinketh my blood

dwelleth in me,

and I in him.

Amen.

Here, Goreng.

With a Samurai-Plus,
it was like cutting butter.

Do it.

Ears, cheek, jowl...

breast, ribs, belly...

brisket, trotters, knuckle...

shoulder, ham...

loin, chops.

You, up there! Bastards.

Come on! I know you're there!

My name is Baharat, and I'm on fire!
You're here!

Have you seen what level we're on?

Level six, my friend!

I'm on fire! I'm on fire! I'm on fire!

I can get to the top from here! Hey!

You, in No. 5, answer me!
Come on, answer me!

- What's up? You want to come up?
- Yes, I want to come up.

- What do you want to come up for?
- What for?

To get out of this fucking hell!

- Do you believe in God?
- Yes.

Yes, I believe in God.

But what God do you believe in?

In the One God.

In the One True God!

He says he believes
in the same God as us, darling.

Come on!
I'm just passing through, I promise.

God told me to get out of the hole!

He says God has spoken to him.

And what did he say exactly?

That two pious souls
would help me get out of the hole!

Did you hear that, darling?
I think God was talking about us.

And he will reward you for this!

And how will God reward us?

With everlasting life!

Everlasting life, no less!

Not a bad exchange
for helping a black man.

Come on, let me up!

Throw up the rope. We'll help you.

Thank you, brothers! Praise the Lord!

See you on the outside. Got it?

Help me!

Bastards!

Pigs!

The bitch shat on me!

Pray for a rope to your God!

The rope! My rope!

You're fine. Be optimistic.

You're screwed.

You're screwed!

Five, five...

You'll never get that close.

Five fucking levels!

You're adapting very well, my snail.

I attacked you.

The mad witch committed suicide.

Now, you can recover fully in this level,

eating everything.

You'll have just one more month

before you get out with your diploma.

See? It wasn't that difficult.

It's just up to you now...

just you.

Change never happens spontaneously, ma'am.

Maybe that's why you are here.

Help me down.

We use whatever weapons we can.

We get onto the platform and hand out food
at every level, just enough to survive.

What?

I can't manage it on my own...

but we can do it together.

Together, we have a chance, Baharat.

I'll try getting up next month.

There'll always be some bastard
who won't let you past.

Going down is suicide.

If we can get food to the last level,
we'll have broken the machinery.

The hole doesn't have machinery.

The hole is the hole.

The hole is a prison.

We don't know how many levels there are.

When I was at Level 202,
I counted, second by second,

the time the platform took
to come back up.

It's not very exact,

but by calculating the time
the platform stops at each level...

I reckon there are around 250.

- Two hundred and fifty?
- Two hundred and fifty.

What if you're wrong?

What if we run out of food
and haven't got to the bottom?

Then we stay on the platform
and go back up on it.

Just like you wanted to.

- Go down...
- To go up.

Only a lunatic would leave Level 6.

Or two lunatics on fire.

You're ridiculous up there.

I hope they kill you both, assholes.

You! Get out of here!

Keep well back from the platform!

Baharat! What the hell are you doing?

Relax, we're just passing through.

- We'll give you your rations and go.
- No.

- No?
- No.

The first 50 levels eat every day.

We start handing out food on Level 51.

These two are friends of mine.
Two months ago, they helped me climb.

These two ate yesterday,
and they'll eat tomorrow.

A day without food won't kill them.

No way! I'm on Level 7,
and I'm entitled to stuff my face.

I nearly died last month on Level 114.

Where were you then, you bastards?

Then, you should understand.

What are you? Some sort of Messiah?

A Messiah who has come to save us?

A Messiah would multiply the loaves
and fishes, not take them from our mouths.

This is crap, Baharat. Christ!

I didn't expect this of you.

Who are you?
The black servant of a white man?

You! Get into the fucking corner!

Hey! I'll kill you!

Into the corner. Don't move!

Into the corner! Don't mess with me!

You! Drop that! Drop that!

On the ground! Don't move!

Out! Or I'll crush you!

You! If you come close, you're dead!

Baharat!

Sorry, sir.

Get off there right now!

You idiots are standing on the food.

Who the hell is this guy?

A wise man.

Did I teach you nothing?

Sir, we are trying to make sure
that food gets to every level.

That's good.

Very good. But manners come first.

Win them over before you hit them.

Sure, but what if we can't?

Then, hit them hard.
But dialogue must come first.

However...

who up there will know if you succeed?

The Administration?

The Administration has no conscience.

However, there is a slim chance

the people working on Level 0 do.

That's where you must send your message.

And how do we do that?

With a symbol.

We need a delicious,

perfectly presented dish.

A luxury dish
that gets back to Level 0 untouched.

Imagine their faces

when they see the hole send back
a dish like that.

Then they will understand the message.

The panna cotta.

You must preserve the panna cotta,
as if your life depended on it.

The panna cotta is the message.

Friends,

I ask you please not to approach
the platform.

We want you to join

a peaceful protest movement

that will inexorably change
the course of events

and set an important precedent...

What? Speak properly, asshole!

- We want you to go hungry for a day.
- A day without food?

Yes.

Fuck that!

The important thing is the message.

Out!

Another couple of levels,
and we start handing out food.

Back!

We don't want trouble, friends.
We're just passing through.

We'll give you your ration and go.

- He's going to die.
- Not if you look after him.

He's going to die anyway.

I'll smother him with the pillow.

Eat up and don't talk nonsense.

I'll slit open his belly,
and I'll eat what you've given him.

Jesus!

This must be where Miharu woke up.

- The mother of the child?
- That child that doesn't exist.

Fuck.

Shit.

Shit! Shit!

The platform didn't stop.

That means there are more levels
than you counted.

Shit...

If there's nobody alive,
the platform doesn't stop.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Miharu! Miharu!

She's dead.

No! No!

She is dead!

The platform! Let's go!

Let's go!

The platform!

Get back!

Be strong.

There's nothing left.

Just the panna cotta.

We still have the panna cotta.

The panna cotta is the message.

There's nobody here.

The platform's stopped.

It must be the last level.

Get ready. We'll go up now.

The child...

No.

Don't do it. Don't do it.

No, no, no, no! Fuck! Fuck!

Throw out the panna cotta.

- Throw out the panna cotta.
- No.

Throw out the fucking panna cotta.

No, no, no, no!

Wait.

It's not hot.

Or cold.

It's a girl.

She's hungry.

Give her a bit.

No.

The panna cotta is the message.

A great man who is sin-ridden
can only be a great sinner,

the wealthy man who is not generous...

will be a miserly beggar.
The owner of wealth is not made happy

by owning it, but by spending it,
and not by spending it capriciously,

but by knowing how to spend it well.

What do you want?

I like listening to you read.

Knowing how to spend it well.

You were very daring to squander
the bounties of Level 6, my little snail.

- I didn't squander it.
- What now?

Will you eat the black guy?

Why not the girl?

The girl has a gift. Haven't you realized?

Ramesses is the message.

Ramesses II is the message.

Ramesses... Ramesses...

Hey! Wake up!

The girl is the message.

She is the message.

She's the message.

Baharat...

Together, we parted,
and together, we peregrinate.

One luck and one fortune we shall share.

Your journey is over, little snail.

Not yet.

- I've got to go back up with the girl.
- But you are not the message.

But I'm her bearer.

The message requires no bearer.

Don't call me little snail again.

Don't use my word again.

She will succeed.

She is the message.