Raskolnikov & Zapadlo
Raskolnikov Raskolnikov
Zapadlo Zapadlo
Zapadlo Zapadlo
Hey, ever think about how a city’s rules are like a giant lock? The whole system feels like a set of tumblers you can pick if you know the right pattern, but if you mess up you get locked out. What do you think—are those bureaucratic tumblers meant to keep people safe or just keep them trapped?
Raskolnikov Raskolnikov
It’s a strange image, that city as a lock. The rules are set to keep order, to protect us from chaos, but if you don’t understand the tumblers you can end up stuck, a prisoner of your own missteps. So I suppose they’re meant for both—guardians and cages—depending on who’s trying to pick the lock.
Zapadlo Zapadlo
Exactly. The guards are the lock picks, the cages are the same keys. Guess which one you pull on depends on whether you’re a thief or a guard.
Raskolnikov Raskolnikov
It feels like every choice is a lever that turns the same lock, whether you’re the thief or the guard. In the end I’m the one deciding which lever to pull, and that’s why I’m always so damned guilty.
Zapadlo Zapadlo
Sounds like you’re the locksmith, so you choose the lever and the lock. Guilt’s just a side‑effect of the mechanism, not a moral fail. Pick it, and you’ll see whether it’s a key or a dead end.