Burial at the sea Episode 1 events

A cigarette burns in the ashtray. Jazz leaks faintly from a gramophone — “La Mer”, warped, slow.

Elizabeth Comstock stands before a mirror, adjusting the red ribbon at her collar. Her reflection feels older than she is — the same steel-blue eyes, but tempered by loss instead of wonder.

Her white blouse catches the amber glow of the bar lights; her black pencil skirt folds neatly as she sits, crossing one leg over the other with mechanical grace. A gunmetal revolver rests on the table beside her — next to a glass she hasn’t touched.

"Different city. Same cage....."

She opens a small tear — no larger than her palm. The air fractures with a crystalline sound. Through it, flickering images: a tower in the clouds… a baptismal river… Booker’s hand sinking beneath the water.

"You thought you could hide from judgment. But there’s nowhere left to go — not above the clouds, not under the sea, Comstock."

The tear snaps shut.