Chapter Text

Epilogue

The sound of chatter echoed through the pristine halls, excitement filling the rooms as The Curator was waiting patiently to present her newest discoveries. "Welcome, welcome. I will be your guide for today. What I found here is something exceptional, everybody. Before you lay an array of paintings done by an anonymous artist that signed his works as «Narrator». These paintings are approximately 427 years old, depicting what we can only assume is the life of the artist. There are no self-portraits as far as our knowledge goes, if there ever existed any, they were probably too damaged to save."

Curiosity filled the room, the crowd becoming restless as the suspension about this mysterious artist grew. "I know you all must be quite intrigued and eager to see the paintings, so if you could please follow me, I would like to show you the oldest painting discovered, presumably the first one too, entitled «Purgatory».”

“This depiction is of a small office, with an old computer on a desk. The room has the number 427 stenciled neatly onto the desk. Now I can assure you that we did not hide these paintings until the same amount of years passed, but the coincidence is rather interesting. We can only speculate what the number means to the artist. Perhaps it was a birth date, perhaps the number used to tell them apart from other employees, perhaps the number didn't have any meaning to the artist. Although you can't see it due to the delicacy of the painting, on the back of the frame the artist wrote something under the title. The quote reads: « This is the story of a man named Stanley.» "