[Lamb Freed from Its Cage] 4 – The Year of the Lord, 1912

As we walked through the streets of Columbia, a glaring detail that accompanied the people of Columbia became rapidly apparent. Comstock and his cronies copied my work. Roaming the street, I could see the occasional Companion unit, acting as pets to the more rich inhabitants of the flying city.

I was both insulted and impressed. For one, these Companion models were clearly based on my design with Talos, but they were poor imitations. The limbs and joints were too stiff, making it seem more mechanical, while I adjusted Talos's limbs and joints to the point where they looked life-like. Other than that, my biggest problem with the Companion models was that someone stole my work.

That person? One Jeremiah Fink, one of the most powerful industrialists and businessmen in Columbia, is responsible for the invention of the Sky-hook, Songbird, Vigors, and so much more. He even helped make Big Daddies through the use of a tear to Rapture, which is how he obtained Adam in the first place to make his Vigors. One noticeable difference with Vigor's was that they were charged by Salts, a substance that was in most of the foods and drinks of Columbia, as well as in blue bottles with the 'Salts' label. It was unknown if they were actually Adam, but whatever they were, they acted much like EVE, the fuel source for Plasmids in Rapture.

He was also the host of the yearly Columbian Secession Day Rafle, where a lucky participant who was chosen got to throw the first baseball at colored people or an interracial couple. Luckily, DeWitt had already stopped this year's raffle, where he was also revealed to be the Snake in the Garden after a police officer in the crowd noticed the initials on the top of his hand.

So far, no one has recognized either of us, especially after I covered DeWitt's hand mark with cloth I ripped from my skirt. Luckily, many stores operate on an honor system of sorts, so it was easy to steal bandages from a general store to hide DeWitt's mark. 

"DeWitt, what Vigors have you obtained so far?" I suddenly asked, getting Booker's attention as we walked side by side down a street past several stores and a few police officers who were on edge.

"Uh, Devil's Kiss, Murder of Crows, and Possession, I think; why?" He asked.

"Because I wanted to know what you had so far and the remaining few we'd need to get for you," I explained.

"Which are?" He asked.

"Bucking Bronco, Charge, Return to Sender, Shock Jockey, and Undertow. We need to find the military-grade versions, as the basic utility versions mostly offered are comparatively weaker. For example, they love showing off samples at the fair that can only be used once or twice and to a much lesser effect," I explained.

"And where do you suggest we get these?" Booker asked, his eyes keeping track of our surroundings.

"If we can't find them, the Vox Populi will give them to us," I informed Booker confidently, which Booker relied skeptically on, "And why would these...Vox Pipoli give us these Vigors?" 

"For one, it's Vox Populi, Latin for Voice of the People, and because of what we can offer. The Vox is an insurgency group that plans to take down Comstock, and they are our best shot at taking him down, though we will need to stop the Vox from causing unneeded casualties in their fervor to take the city. Otherwise, they'll kill thousands of innocent people in their war," I explained to Booker.

"War? I did not sign up for something like that," Booker stopped me, grabbing my arm.

"You signed up for this War when you took that deal to get me to settle your debt, and you will not be taking me," I retorted, crossing my arms. Part of me wished to open a few tears for dramatic effect, but I stopped myself, remembering where we were. With all these people and cops around us, it wouldn't take long for DeWitt and me to lose our already fragile anonymity and have to fight through countless cops and Comstock's soldiers before we reach Shantytown.

Shantytown, as its name might suggest, was home to the downtrodden, the lower class of Columbia. It was sectioned off from the city and mostly hidden from view, as the buildings, streets, and people were in terrible conditions. All of the segregated communities and people were forced to live here, and it was also home to the Vox. 

I wanted to ask for directions to Shantytown, but I knew that would draw unwanted attention and suspicion from the citizens of Columbia, so I resulted in followed random people and wandered around aimlessly in hopes of finding Shantytown. While I did not find Shantytown, I did find a Vox Cipher, which told me that some Vox had to be in this area somewhere.

And just as luck would have it, there was a hotel just across the street from the alleyway that contained the Vox Cipher.

"So we're just going to stake it out? Wait for someone to show up in that alley looking for this Cipher?" DeWitt questioned, clearly not liking the idea.

"It's either that or continuing our search throughout the night," I told him, seeing the rapidly darkening sky.

Grumbling but accepting my offer, his frown quickly worsened when he realized that he was the one who would have to pay. The man who gave us our room key made some rather...obvious remarks about a young woman and a man staying in a hotel room for the night.

We were lucky there was a room with two beds available.

...

As it turns out, going from a bed you've slept in your whole life to one of lower quality made it difficult to sleep through the night. Not to mention the loud...noises coming from the nearby rooms and Booker's snoring.

In short, I did not get much sleep last night or sleep at all, which left me rather tired when the sun arose the following day. Throughout the night, I noticed Booker shaking and trembling in his sleep, likely having nightmares or remembering his 'debt' and that he needed to 'bring back the girl to settle the debt.'

Since I was having trouble sleeping, I spent most of the night sitting on the window sill, watching the alleyway, hoping to see a member of the Vox while I toyed with tears. It took me time to get accustomed to my new strength as I felt all the tears within miles of me. I didn't even have to look anymore to feel a tear nearby or open one myself. It felt like I could open a tear anytime I wished with no effort, and part of me felt the need to try, but I refrained from doing so.

Part of me wanted to leave and never return, but I couldn't. Not until Comstock was dealt with. The old man would keep looking for me otherwise, and part of me wanted to stop him from ever kidnapping another baby. The real question was, did I have the will to end the threat, or would I hesitate and fail to stop Comstock once and for all?