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 * 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.
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. *, heartbroken. Bit of ennui.
Maybe too much.
For * 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 * are you doing back here?
Stubbs, how are you still alive?
How-- How... the-- the *... 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 * 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 * 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 * 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?
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 * 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 * 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 * 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 * 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?
* 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 * 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.
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 * 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.