Horizons

###It's dark. Can you see anything? (button:)[[Let your eyes adjust.]] (css: "line-height: 1em;")[](button:)[[I'm scared of the dark.]](enchant:?page, (bg:( black)))(enchant:?passage, (b4r:"ridge") + (b4r-size:16) + (corner-radius:16) + (font:'Silkscreen') + (float-box:"=XXX=","=YYY==")) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/371699__meijstroaudio__dark-ambience-001.wav" autoplay loop> (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant'))

You can focus your eyes through the haze of nausea. It feels like you've had one hell of a night, or something like that. You can hear beeping, distantly. You look harder. You're in something wet. That's unfortunate. It's a stasis chamber, used for recovery. You've been in one of these (link: "before.")[before. Despite having a union job, your mining detail still sees a |rshadow>[ [[4<-high workplace hazard rate]]]. You lost your good eye in an accident years ago. You got a great benefits package after, for not suing, but still. Seems like something has happened again. Just your luck. (button:)[[Climb out of the chamber.]] (button:)[[Stay here, in the dark. You don't know what's out there.]] ]<audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Hospital%20Beep%20(Pitido%20hospital)%20%5BVideo%20and%20Sound%5D%20%5BDownload%20Link%5D.mp3" autoplay loop>

Who isn't? It's creepy. There could be anything out there. But you're also 40 years old. You have a wife and daughter. You're supposed to find them. You need to. (button:)[[Let your eyes adjust.<-Get back to it.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/371699__meijstroaudio__dark-ambience-001.wav" autoplay> (set: $ScaredyCat +1)

You look around. |UHOH)[Something is// definitely// wrong.] (click: ?page)[(show:?UHOH) ###(text-style:"blink")[ [[Observe.<- =>]] ]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/543654__alexo400__sci-fi_door_2.wav" autoplay> (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant'))

Stop it. You know you need to get out, make sure your kid is alright. She must be waiting for you. Something bothers you though. Your wife. Your stomach drops. You remember. |flicker>[ [[The accident.]] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/371699__meijstroaudio__dark-ambience-001.wav" autoplay loop>

###What accident? You've wasted enough time. You should really get going. (button:)[[Climb out of the chamber.]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) (Set: $Memory to it +1)

Stop doing that. You're better than that. Your government mandated mother figure bot didn't raise a quitter. Quit throwing a tantrum. So what you're stuck in a 28 days later situation? That guy totally survived, didn't he? Go find something useful. (Set: $kys to it +1)\ [[Look around for anything useful.]]

This is the medical bay. There should be plenty of sharp, pointy objects you can use to defend yourself, if need be. You see a laser scalpel, stuck into the pseudo-wood panelling the station uses to mimic a retro style more popular on your home planet. The newest nanobots are really good at mimicking that classic wood texture. Someone was really mad at this desk, you assume. There's also a photonbeam. What? That's what you call flashlights on XR-5089, don't look at me. Photonbeam first; you figure you should work on seeing clearly before you put your hands near anything that sharp, anyway. [[Take the flashlight.]] [[Take the photonbeam.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/174450__sonicfreak__space-ambience.wav" autoplay loop>

You mean the photonbeam? [[No.]] [[Yes.]]

Awesome, now you can see. With a click, the path in front of you is bathed in bright white. You flinch, your eyes unaccustomed to the glare. When you refocus, your breath hitches. Shit. The medical bay is a mess. You had a vague idea, of course, in your half-blind explorations, but what you see in front of you is something else. There's blood, the floor slick with fluids. Some of the pods aren't just inactive; they're broken, goo oozing out from between the cracks. You don't want to check if there are people inside; from the looks of things, you wouldn't be any help. Clipboards and pieces of furniture are overturned; it looks like someone tried to make a barricade, at some point. Was there an attack? Did the station drift into something? Did you encounter an unfriendly ship? Pirates are a real concern in space, nowadays, with the economy and all. It's not unheard of, but it's not really good. You take a breath to steel your nerves. You're not sure what's happened, but you feel like that scalpel should really come in handy. [[That's way too scary. Kill yourself now?]] [[Take the scalpel.]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white)) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/458583__inspectorj__ui-mechanical-turning-on-04-fx.wav" autoplay><audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/174450__sonicfreak__space-ambience.wav" autoplay loop>

It's a long piece of metal. You press the button on its smooth side, hoping it hasn't run out of battery. You're lucky -- it turns on, and with it, a blade consisting of several neon lines of lasers stutter to life. These things are small and precise, used for fine-tuning and surgery, but it's better than nothing. You think you could leverage your weight in a way so that you could do some damage with this. It could work. Still, you hope you run into someone with a phaser rifle; higher ranking officers -- higher ranking than you at least -- carry them. [[Move forward, weapon and light in hand.]] (enchant:?page,(bg:(gradient: 0, 0,#131363,0.6779,#000000,1,#000000))) (set:$scalpel to true) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/174450__sonicfreak__space-ambience.wav" autoplay loop>

Was that so hard? [[Take the photonbeam.]]

Why are you being so difficult? You know what it's called. [[I really don't.]] [[Take the photonbeam.]](set:$sassy to it +1)

Ok. (if: $kys >=1)[ You are way too difficult. You know what, go ahead. ##Just kill yourself. [[Just do it.<- Go ahead, do what you want to do.]] ]\ (else:)[ Well, you died. Game over. Not really, but take the sci-fi conceit already, damn. Haven't you watched a movie or read a book before? Immerse yourself in the world. What is wrong with you? [[Take the photonbeam.]] ] (set:$sassy to it +1) (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant'))

Stop doing that. You're not going to kill yourself, you're going to find your family, and get out of here. You have to make sure they're safe. (set:$kys to it +1) (set: $ScaredyCat to it +1) [[Take the scalpel.]]

You gingerly step over puddles of goo and blood and medical equipment as you make your way towards the end of the bay. Despite the apparent violence, you don't see any bodies. You're hoping that's a good thing; maybe there's working medical support somewhere else. It's plausible. Everything could be okay; maybe only this wing is out of power. [[I guess that means I'm excused from work today!]] [[Open the exit doors.]] (enchant:?page,(bg:(gradient: 0, 0,#131363,0.6779,#000000,1,#000000))) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/174450__sonicfreak__space-ambience.wav" autoplay loop>

(link: "Yay!")[ (transition: "pulse")+(transition-time: 5s)[Yay!] ](set:$optimist to it +1) You were not looking forward to that back-breaking labor. You wish you had a cold space-beer to knock back to celebrate. But instead, there's only blood and stuff. What a mood killer. Still, you should get going. [[Open the exit doors.]] (enchant:?page,(bg:(gradient: 0, 0,#131363,0.6779,#000000,1,#000000))) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Children%20Yay%20Sound%20Effect%20(HD).mp3" autoplay>

You reach towards the biometric scanner on the opposite wall to open the exit doors to the medical bay. The sound of something banging against the doors on the other side stops you in your tracks. It reverberates in the otherwise silent medical bay. Your heart pounds. (text-style:"shudder")[What is that? ] [[Don't panic.]] (transition-arrive: "shudder")[[Panic.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Knock.mp3.mp3" autoplay> (enchant:?page,(bg:(gradient: 0, 0,#131363,0.6779,#000000,1,#000000)))

You've dealt with worse things than a rude visitor. You've survived so many IOSHA (Intergalactic Occupational Safety and Health Administration) violations, met space aliens (though that's not the politically correct term in this enviroment), raised a child. So what if you're totally alone in a blood soaked medical bay in an unpowered space station? You have your scalpel, remember? You can do this. [[Ready your scalpel and open the door.]] (set: $calm to it + 1)\ <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Knock.mp3.mp3" autoplay>

(change: ?page's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) |flicker>[(text-style:"rumble")[Oh my god. ''You are so dead''. ] ](set: $ScaredyCat to it +1) Shit. Are you religious? You should pray. Are you going to piss yourself? Fuuuuck. What could be on the other side? [[Kill self.]] [[Ready your scalpel and open the door.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Knock.mp3.mp3" autoplay>

<img class="full-width" image src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Untitled_Artwork%20(1).gif"> What the fuck is that? You can hear the wet crunching of bone as the figure -- monster? animal? homunculus? -- moves, sickening crunches and cracks. It breathes, heavily, and a deep, primal instinct in your mind tells you to run and hind. This is unnatural. This thing is unnatural. It's not right. It sees you. (if:$Anger >=2)[ [[Fuck it. Charge at the thing.]] ] (else:)[ [[Fuck it. Charge at the thing.]] [[Study it. Watch how it moves.]] [[Run.->Run1]] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Multiple%20carnivores%20eating%20sound%20effect.mp3" autoplay >

Fair enough. This is like, super scary. You made it pretty far, you should be proud of yourself. You dunk yourself into the medical pod from which you woke up, and close the lid over yourself. You drown, quietly, bubbles breaking the surface of the thick liquid. The banging continues, oblivious to your plight (or perhaps, lack of it). You die, alone, cold and wet. Start over? [[Wake up.]] (set:$kys to it +1) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Drowning%20-%20Sound%20Effect.mp3" autoplay>

With some animals, you're supposed to stay still, so that they can't see you. So they won't get excited. You hold your breath, watching the monstrous being in front of you heave, its neck moving with a sickening crunch as its head turns towards you. It sees you, too. While you study it, it studies you. Maybe its not harmful. Maybe its just a scared animal, like the border collie mix you rescued years ago on your home planet, with its broken leg. It even cocks its head towards you. It's learning. It looks pained, even. You feel a pang of sympathy, pity. You know what that's like. You've been hurt before, too. And then it charges at you. (set: $calm to it + 1) \ [[Duck.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Heartbeat%20sound.mp3" autoplay >

You move forward with the scalpel, your flashlight still in hand, waving frantically at the thing. You nick it, just slightly, and it sizzles; the laser of your blade slices into the skin, and capsules of flesh pucker and pop, leaking thick, red sludge. It's almost like blood. The thing rears back towards you, letting out a gutteral, echoing cry. In a fit of desperation, you kick at the monster with your boot, aiming for one of its arms. Your heart sinks when instead of making contact with something solid, it sinks into it, reminding you of a childhood physics demonstration with oobleck. The tendons of it reform around your foot, and you have to use all of your might to free yourself with a sickeningly wet crunch. (click-replace:"sickeningly wet crunch.")[sickeningly wet crunch. It continues to lurch at you, moving with crunches and wet cracks, unnatural and stiff. You dive to the side, and it simply mirrors you. You get the strangest feeling that its studying you, understanding you. You narrowly miss a swipe of its massive arm and instinctively duck behind your arm for protection. A bit of your skin that's uncovered by your medical dressings comes into contact with the thing, and you smell and hear the burning of flesh before you feel it. It sizzles. Acid? [[Damn, that hurt!]] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/fight%20sound.mp3" autoplay>

Emboldened by your previous sucesses, you charge with your scalpel, hoping to end this once and for all. You let out a shout of exertion as you launch yourself towards the monster's grisly face. It morphs, and in a flash of movement you have a single thought. "That's not the head," you think blandly, as it slices its sharp, bony appendage right through your own cerebrum. It was worth a try, but your wife and daughter will simply learn to survive without you. They're resourceful. You think they could do it. Start over? [[Wake up.]] (text-colour:#747a81)[Helpful tip: there's a rewind button on the side of the text. Just in case you've been clicking through this entire thing every single time. That would be crazy. ]

You duck behind one of the columns, catching your breath. Your heart is pounding. It's difficult to really hurt that thing; you need a much bigger laser-blade. You need one of the rifles. [[Run away.]] [[Stand your ground.]]

Once you're out of view, you hightail it out of there. That was way too scary, maybe you should've just killed yourself earlier. Moving on blind instinct, you rush forward, running and running until your lungs are screaming with the desire to breathe. [[Catch your breath. -> 5]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Breathing%20%26%20Running%20Ambience%20Sound%20Effect%20Metal%20Footsteps.mp3" autoplay loop>

You jump out from behind the column, hoping to use the element of surprise to your advantage. The monster is unphased, simply cocking its head at you before pouncing on you. You wrestle with it briefly, feeling the upper layers of your skin melt before it crushes your skull against the floor. You die. Come on. Standing your ground against that monstrosity? You have a tiny little baby knife. Are you trying to make this 101 ways to die in space? If you choose to start over, let's hope you make some better choices the next time around. [[Wake up.]]

You push at the door. You pray to every higher being you can think of that it will open. Your biometrics wouldn't allow you in to this office, normally. You recognize the name, vaguely. This is one of the big pHD white coat guys you would hear of, in passing. You close your eyes and press your hand against the screen. (click-replace:"press your hand against the screen.")[press your hand against the screen. It turns out you didn't need to pray: it's unlocked, and opens with a slight push. As the loud footsteps draw closer, you close the door quickly and shove the nearest piece of furniture-- a chair-- against the door. It's besides the point; it wouldn't stop much, and the doors slide side to side anyway. Still, it's better than nothing. You're in a large office. (click-replace:"You're in a large office.")[You're in a large office. It looks like the reserve lighting in here is a bit better. You wouldn't be surprised if there was a personal generator here, given the scale of the space. This guy must have been super, super important. You frown at that-- he could still be alive. He must ''be'' important. The illusion of hope is necessary, right now. Your eyes take in the room. (click-replace:"Your eyes take in the room.")[Your eyes take in the room, on the lookout for any sign of the things that have taken over the station. Tables are overturned, reddish stains that suggest blood on the floor, the walls, but there's something about it that stands out to you. The stains look old; not like the ones outside, which were fresh and still slick. These are dried and dark; crumbly. The blood in this room is old. You shine your flashlight around, looking for anything that could help you. This guy definitely counts as a higher up. He should have a phaser rifle. He's got like, a million awards. [[Rifle through the drawers.]] [[Take this as an opportunity to relax.]] [[Steal an award.]] ] ] ]

You should really make less of a habit of killing yourself every time you're confronted with danger or choices. How many times have you chosen this? Do you really want to kill yourself? Yes, there are scary, crazy, monstrouous things out there that burn and eat you alive the moment your skin merely comes into contact with them. But don't you want to see where it goes? Don't you think your wife might be out there? Your sweet little kid? Don't you remember her first steps? [[Fuck that kid. I'm killing myself.]] (link: "You're right. Choose a door.")[(goto: "Think about how fucked you are.")Think about how fucked you are.] (set:$kys to it +1)

Are you sure? [[Yes, I am sure.]] (link: "No. I'll choose a door.")[(goto: "Think about how fucked you are.")Think about how fucked you are.](set:$kys to it +1)

Are you okay? Like, seriously. You want to kill yourself in this game so bad. Is the writing that bad? Are you not having fun? If you’re in emotional distress there are options available to help you cope. You can contact the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline at any time to connect with someone and get support. Confidential support is available 24/7 for everyone in the United States and its territories. This is pretty sad. I had to link the hotline. You're kind of being a bummer. [[Yes, I still want to kill myself.]] (link: "Okay, you win. I'll choose a stupid door.")[(goto: "Think about how fucked you are.")Think about how fucked you are.](set:$kys to it +1)

Dang. Like, damn. That's crazy. You jump off the balcony, and your body bursts like an overripe tomato on the floor. Those things probably eat you, but who cares. You died. You want to start over, don't you? Well, no. You don't get to. Yeah, there are concequences. Live with your choice. Couldn't just enjoy this; you wanted to kill yourself. What if Odysseus killed himself before he got on that boat? What if Goku was like 'Nah, Frieza, you can have Earth.' If Rocky was like, 'Yeah, boxing is just too hard." That's would be crazy! That's crazy talk. You're crazy. Don't you want to see where this goes? (link: "Fine.")[(goto: "Think about how fucked you are.")Think about how fucked you are.](set:$kys to it +1) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Falling%20sound%20effect%20with%20SPLAT!!.mp3" autoplay>

You slide open the door with a shove in a fit of desperation, and luckily, it disengages. As you step inside, you rattle the brooms and mops propped up against the wall. As the door hisses shut behind you, you hear soft, shallow breathing from somewhere in the closet. [[Turn to look.]] [[Kill yourself.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/wheezing%20and%20door.mp3" autoplay>

''You are so fucked.'' But before you can think too deeply exactly how fucked you are, you hear someone -- something -- approaching, big, lumbering steps. You only have a split second to make a decision. There are two doors closest to you. <img class="full-width" img src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/IMG_4455.jpg"> You have to focus your eyes to read the labels. [[Open the door on your right, marked 'CLEANING SUPPLIES.']] [[Open the door on your left, marked 'Dr. Li's Office.']] [[Jump off the edge of the observation deck. #semicolontattoo.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/71949__cmusounddesign__bm_monster.wav" autoplay loop>

As you open drawers, you are met with an extensively neat filing system, documents and documents with sub-headings and categories, color coded and obsessively done. This is remarkable, not just because its so organized, but because paper went out of style several centuries ago. For the most part, mantaining physical documents is for security; there's no system harder to hack than plain paper. There are a couple items that catch your eye. [['CATASTROPHIC INFRASTRUCTURE COLLAPSE.'<- An old newspaper clipping.]] [['LI, ZORA HUDSON MEDICAL REPORT.'<- An old-school dumb reading device.]] [['SCALING NANOTECHNOLOGY'<- A leather-bound journal.]] That is a lot of reading, though. You're pretty sure you should focus on looking for a weapon. [[Look somewhere else.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Metal%20Filing%20Cabinet%20Open%20and%20Close%20with%20Rifling%20Through%20Files.mp3" autoplay>

You are in such a life-threatening situation right now. But you didn't get this far in life without remembering how to relax. You spin the plush office chair in the center of the room around experimentally, and get in it yourself. It's extremely comfortable. This is really awesome. You can feel the day's exhausion and fear and pain fade, just for a bit. You visualize a beach. You used to do this all the time, when you were at work, trying to ignore the digging pains in your hands and shoulders, the twinge of your back and the memory of getting your artificial eye implanted. Cybernetics are awesome for a lot of reasons, but you're especially grateful now as you use your eye to project the visual of a beach inside your mind. Some call it imagination, but you would swear that since you got it installed, you can visualize much easier, at least in your right eye. So many days at work were spent like this. You deserve this. [[Mental beach time.]]

(prepend:?passage)+(size:0.9)[\ =><= (font:"Times New Roman")[CATASTROPHIC INFRASTRUCTURE COLLAPSE ON S.P.A.R.K. STATION XR-5089.] <== --- ](size:0.9)[\ --- |= =| ==> ](enchant:?page, (bg:gray+black) )(enchant:?passage, (float-box:"=XXXX=","Y") + (bg:white) + (color:black) + (b4r-color:gray) + (b4r:"solid") + (b4r-size:0,4,4,0) )(enchant:?link, (color:black) + (text-style:"underline") + (hover-style:(color:blue) + (bg:blue+white)))(font:"Times New Roman")[ It’s a clipping of a newspaper article, from several years ago. The fact that its printed physically must mean he went out of his way to obtain a copy. Most of it is taken up by the picture, though it’s difficult to make out exactly what the subject is; rebar and metal beams are visible past a haze of black smoke, silver and white casing cracked and lodged between the ruined foundation.] [[Read it.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/book-page-flip-28603.mp3" autoplay> (set: $investigator to it +1)

(prepend:?passage)+(size:0.9)[\ =><= (font:"Times New Roman")[CATASTROPHIC INFRASTRUCTURE COLLAPSE ON S.P.A.R.K. STATION XR-5089.] <== --- ](size:0.9)[\ --- (font:"Times New Roman")[ //This clipping must be of the front page, because there are only a few paragraphs of an article before it cuts off abruptly//. ] (enchant:?page, (bg:gray+black))(enchant:?passage, (float-box:"=XXXX=","Y") + (bg:white) + (color:black) + (b4r-color:gray) + (b4r:"solid") + (b4r-size:0,4,4,0) )(enchant:?link, (color:black) + (text-style:"underline") + (hover-style:(color:blue) + (bg:blue+white)) )(font:"Times New Roman")[ =|= The morning of October 8th, the residential sector of S.P.A.R.K. Station XR-5089 suffered millions of fatalities and millions more casualties when foundational infrastructure buckled under its own weight and collapsed. The collapse seems to have left the military barracks and laboratories of the station untouched, contained to the residential wing that housed the majority of workers in XR-5089’s janitorial, mining and other blue-collar labor divisions. =|= First responders are still in the process of recovering the bodies of laborers and their families from their apartments, the majority of which were completely flattened. S.P.A.R.K. officials say they are prioritizing the recovery and treatment of casualties. Station XR-5089’s Research & Development department has released a statement that they are expediting the release of new medical technology to assist…] [[Turn the page over.]] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/book-page-flip-28603.mp3" autoplay>

(enchant:?page, (bg:gray+black) )(enchant:?passage, (float-box:"=XXXX=","Y") + (bg:white) + (color:black) + (b4r-color:gray) + (b4r:"solid") + (b4r-size:0,4,4,0) )(enchant:?link, (color:black) + (text-style:"underline") + (hover-style:(color:blue) + (bg:blue+white)) ) (font:"Times New Roman")[The back of the clipping is an unrelated spread of advertisements. Woah, bigger dick in just nine days? That's pretty cool.] (link: "Return to more snooping.")[(goto: "Rifle through the drawers.")Rifle through the drawers.] [[Look somewhere else.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/book-page-flip-28603.mp3" autoplay>

(text-style:"underline")[October 9] ''PATIENT NAME:'' Zora Hudson Li ''AGE: ''40 years ''SEX:'' Female ''SPECIES: ''Human (text-style:"underline")[''ASSESSMENT:''] =|= * Critical antero-posterior skull fracture * Antero-posterior laceration of scalp * Open globe laceration of left eye * Traumatic asphyxia secondary to entrapment under debris * Spontaneous abortion secondary to blunt force abdominal trauma =|= * Left orbital fracture resulting in detached optic nerve * Compound fracture of left clavicle, left scapula, and sternum * Transverse fracture of right tibia * Crush syndrome |==| (text-style:"underline")[''NOTES:''] Patient was trapped under collapsed building debris for over three days, sustaining crush injuries to abdomen and chest. Patient was approximately 10 weeks pregnant at time of incident; fetal cardiac activity absent on post-rescue ultrasound. (text-style:"underline")[''CARE PLAN:''] Patient awaiting transfer to Dr. Li Mieu Yong aboard S.P.A.R.K. Alpha Centauri for long term care. In the margins, you can read the words, "Prognosis: (text-style:"double-underline")[(text-colour:red)[GRIM.]]" It's underlined several times. Bummer. [(link: "Return to more snooping.")[(goto: "Rifle through the drawers.")Rifle through the drawers.] [[Look somewhere else.]]](set: $investigator to it +1) (enchant:?passage, (b4r:'solid') + (color:white) + (b4r-color:gray) + (b4r-size:1) + (corner-radius: 16) + (font: "Syne Mono") + (size:7/8) + (text-style:'expand') + (bg:(gradient: 0, 0,#000000,1,(hsl:180,0.8039,0.5,0.35)))) (enchant:?sidebar, (text-style:'outline'))(enchant:?link, (b4r:'solid') + (color:white) + (b4r-color:gray) + (b4r-size:1) + (t8n-depart:'dissolve') + (corner-radius: 4) + (hover-style: (color:white) + (b4r-color:white)))

Ouch! You spare a glance at your hand as you duck behind a pillar. There are species you've encountered that create noxious fumes and acidic secretions, evolutions in millions of galaxies that produce something similar. But it bothers you. The wound is weeping and bubbling like a burn, but it didn't feel hot. Your boot didn't melt, either, and you know the construction of your shoes is fieldwork approved and industrial grade, but it should still have more damage than that if your hand is this messed up. The sensation is indescrible; bursts of pain explode across your forearm. It almost felt like some part of you was being... Eaten? At least the wound is small. You make a mental note to yourself: do not let your bare skin come into contact with it. [[Swipe again.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Food%20Sizzling%20Sound%20Effect.mp3" autoplay >

You swipe again, and it's sucessful: you're grateful. While you may not be able to brute force your way out, the laser of the blade seems to do something, at least, burning away where it touches the monster. Seems like fire, or advanced lasers, is what you need. [[Aim for the sort-of head.]] [[Hide.]]

You point your photonbeam into the darkness, and it lands on a pale, sweaty face. You don’t recognize the guy, but when you squint you can see that the jumpsuit has the insignia of the station’s mining division, so you must have worked with him at some point. You can make out the words on his label: 'J-O-E.' Joe's eyes are wild, twitching to look at the door behind you, then you, then the door again. “You gotta get out of here, man,” he says hoarsely. [['Why? What’s going on?']] (link: "'Do you know what those things are?'")[(goto: "'Why? What’s going on?'")'Why? What’s going on?'] [['You're going to be alright, man. Turn that frown upside-down!'-> Happy]]

Not the time. [[Turn to look.]](set:$kys to it +1)

He licks his lips, a bead of sweat trailing down his jaw. You see something…pulse, underneath his skin, undulating, and his eyes twitch again. One pupil is a pinprick under the bulb of your photonbeam, the other wide and dilated. “You don’t get it,” he says. His hands, shaking, pull at the collar of his jumpsuit. His jaw clenches, another pulse rippling unnaturally through the muscle of his neck. (transition-arrive: "shudder")[[>]]

You don’t like the look of whatever your ex-coworker has going on, but the monsters you saw out there are easily worse. You can stand some close proximity with a strange, sweaty acquaintance. Your head turns. (click-replace:"Your head turns.")[Your head turns, when he begins to gurgle, and it could be your imagination, but his skin seems to turn even more sallow. A thin line slowly travels up his neck, a cut blooming open as it forms a pitted crease before you can blink. The man lets out a guttural wheeze, his breath rattling in his chest, and you begin to back away. (click-replace:" you begin to back away.")[You try to back away. Instead, your shoulders hit the door with a dull clang. You realize you're not far enough. The gash makes its way over the planes of his face, a river branching off into segments, piece by piece. [[Watch in horror.]] ] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/horror%20flesh%20rip%20tear%20bone%20crack.mp3" autoplay>

Nope. You're not an idiot; you've seen movies and read holo-novels. You know what's coming. Whatever’s wrong with this guy, you don’t want to stick around and find out. You open the sliding door in a hurry, only to come face to face with another thing. It sees you. Well, fuck. [[Die.]]

####|flicker>[''FUCK MY LIFE''] That is the repeating mantra inside your head as you run and run and run and run, not for the first time today. As you do so, monsters see you; it doesn't matter, because you just need to get away from not-Joe, away from the revelation that whatever these things are used to be people. (click-replace:"these things are used to be people.")[these things are used to be people. There was a part of you that had thought -- hoped, wanted to believe -- that these were some sort of mutation, some wrong gene splicing experiment or a new invasive speices brought abroad by a blundering newbie. But these things aren't things; they're people. With this knowledge, you start to recognize some of them. (click-append:"them. ")[ A pair of pink shoes with flesh extruding from the openings; you saw that same pair of shoes at the cafeteria, you think, weeks ago. Some of the janitors; some of your bosses. Men and women; people you worked for, served with. (click-append:"served with. ")[The things wear their faces, their forms; are them. You watch for any with familar dark hair. You pray your family is safe. You keep running and running and fucking running until you finally find an alcove. (set: $Joe to true) [[Catch your breath.<- Catch your breath, again.]] ] ] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Breathing%20%26%20Running%20Ambience%20Sound%20Effect%20Metal%20Footsteps.mp3" autoplay loop>

You think absently, as you feel your body crushed under the weight of the being, that this sucks. You died, and well, I won't sugar coat it. It was preventable -- if only you didn't listen to some weirdo. I mean, not a great sitaution; I get it. There weren't really any good options. But are there any good options when you're fighting space monsters? Like, seriously, the option to kill yourself comes back again and again because what else would you do at a certain point? Live? When all this is happening? You must have an indomitable will. I would love if you were my divorce attorney. Or my donkey. Two things where getting back up after failing is super important. Well. Are you ready to try again? [[Wake up.]] (enchant:?page,(bg:#8f0000))(enchant:?page,(bg:(gradient: 0, 0,#000000,0.7365,#750000,0.9939,#e61919)))

White sand, blue waves. You've never been to a beach like that, on any planet, but you recall an advertisement for beer with the visual. But you've seen purple waves that cut through fog in the thin atmosphere of the planet E5-7809 orbits. You can get the idea. You let yourself just relax. [[Keep relaxing.]] (link: "That's enough. Check the drawers.")[(goto: "Rifle through the drawers.")Rifle through the drawers.] (link: "Fuck this. Steal this guy's awards.")[(goto: "Steal an award."Steal an award.] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Sea%20Waves%20-%20Sound%20Effect.mp3" autoplay loop> (set: $calm to it + 1)

You lean back even more, if possible. You close your eyes harder, chill even harder than before. You sink into oblivion, letting waves and soft sand sweep you away, even as you hear pounding at the door. There's screaming too, but you don't hear it. The waves are too loud. ##(text-style:"buoy")[//You drift.//] (change: ?page's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) You don't wake back up. Start over? [[Wake up.]] (set: $calm to it + 1) (enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:(gradient: 0, 0,#197fe6,0.6677,#00bfe6,0.9939,#e2e2c5))) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Sea%20Waves%20-%20Sound%20Effect.mp3" autoplay loop>

(enchant:?page, (bg:black))(enchant:?passage, (float-box:"=XXX=","Y") + (bg:white) + (color:black) + (b4r-color:gray) + (b4r:"solid") + (b4r-size:0,4,4,0))(enchant:?link, (color:black) + (text-style:"underline") + (hover-style:(color:black) + (bg:red+yellow))) It’s a journal, bound in synthetic leather -- nobody uses animal products for clothing anymore, it’s just not cost effective -- with a neat scrawl. You read: (font:"Lacquer")[(css: "font-size: 120%")[(text-style:"underline")[(align:"=><=")+(box:"XXXXXXXXXXX=")[''Scaling Nanoscale Robots for Medical and Therapeutic Use'']]](text-style:"underline")[ 3/10] Foremost concern: "//control and communication in the animal and the machine//" The potential of training nanobots to transition from pure glucose feed to raw meat and organic materials shows exciting possibilities. Has already shown efficacy in building materials. The idea of these (bg:(hsl:60,0.8039,0.5,0.45))[nanoscale robots mimicking biological processes is revolutionary] = effectively healing wounds beyond current medical capacity. (text-style:"underline")[''Methodology:''] [Measurements:] * Matter consumed will be quantified in weight over time. * Additional metrics include O₂ levels and CO₂ output, to analyze metabolic imitations. Experimentation Scale: * Initial phases involved a controlled approach with 500.00g of pure glucose. * Future stages will escalate to utilizing whole dead animals. * Further down the line, this could lead to employing live animals * Eventual use in human trial (text-style:"underline")[''Concerns:''] The shift from precise measurements to unregulated consumption raises questions about the control and safety of the experiments. Potential escalation to human experimentation will not play well with higher ups; large ethical concern...] [[Flip a couple pages.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/book-page-flip-28603.mp3" autoplay> (set: $investigator to it +1)

As you move to look for any weapons that could aid you against these monsters, you hear the footsteps again, and then -- pounding. Again. ''Fuck''. You need to get out of here -- the door's lock is busted. It won't hold for long. You swallow thickly, your heart pounding. What will you do? (Button:)[[Try to defend the office.]] (Button:)[[Outrun the monsters.]] (Button:)[[I'm actually totally fine.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/banging%20on%20metal%20door%20-%20sound%20effect.mp3" autoplay loop>

This guy has so many awards; he could afford to lose one, or two. You reach for the shiniest one there: a globe with a hand holding it up, a recognition for excellence in the field of biotechnology. It's a perfectly lovely thing, engraved with his full name: "(font:"ZCOOL QingKe HuangYou")[李沐阳, Li Mieu Yong."] Beyond the award, you see a certificate with his full job title: (font:"ZCOOL QingKe HuangYou")["Head of Biological Augmentation Technology (BAT) on XR-5089"]. He must be the guy responsible for cybernetics; you suppose you owe him one. There is a framed photograph next to the award. It must be him, with who you presume is his wife. [[They look happy.]] (set:$sassy to it +1)

This guy wouldn't have cared if you lived or died, ivory tower and all. You knew the type: the type of man who would tell you, tell your coworkers to risk your lives for a bottom line. They might disguise it, might say you were all part of the same 'Horizons family' but it would never be true. They'd never see you as more than a dispensible tool, one of thousands at their disposal. These were men who never deigned to even look twice at you, afraid your poverty or mediocrity might be contagious. You'd heard the rumors. (click-replace:"You'd heard the rumors.")[You'd heard the rumors: coverups, hushed voices talking about medical malpractice, financial ruins. You'd seen it: the backbreaking work, the countless hours, overtime and hazardous conditions justified to make some fat cat somewhere happy. You realize you don't quite care who he is, or was. What matters is you're here now, and you want it. You've worked so hard your entire life. It's the end of the world as you know it, now. If now isn't the time to do what you want, [[then when?]] ]

You may be in the beginning of an apocalypse event, but you have manners and respect for others. This is probably meaningful to Dr. Li, and what would you do with an award anyway? Blunt force does nothing to these monsters. You have both your hands full with your scalpel and photonbeam anyway. [[Look somewhere else.]] [[Rifle through the drawers.]]

You smell it before you see it. A putrid stench, vile and rotted permeates your senses as you turn to face the source, and you can't help the way you back away. You've seen a lot of the monsters, before, but this is different; its huge, skin bursting at the seams, flesh pillowing and layering with gore and viscera between. It looks as though it may have once been a woman, though you cant tell much else. The award must have been a hidden lever, opening up a section of the room that was conspiciously clear of any heavy furniture. A secret pit. (click-replace:"A secret pit.")[A secret pit. It's got arms and arms and legs everywhere, appendages and overgrowth overlapping, covered in blood and rot. You can see parts where its cut itself on its own confinement, festering in itself. You are repulsed, but you cant help but look at it. See its state of torment. It seems like its stuck in there, crying, struggling to leverage itself. //''She''// is crying. [[Vomit.]] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Scary%20Crying%20Ghost%20Sound%20Effect.mp3" autoplay>

You can't help it; you throw up. You'd recognized the features, somehow, a disorted fun-house mirror version of the woman you'd seen in the picture. The realization had made you sick, had chilled you. To know what happened to the smiling woman, to know this had once been a person. When you come back up for air, she's right in front of you, flesh billowing, bouncing and jolting with an obsene shine, her dark skin bloody and puckered and pitted from festering wounds. She isn't crying, anymore. She lets out a sound: whatever it was is lost in the sound of a wet gurgle. [[ => ->Be eaten.]] (set: $investigator to it +1) (enchant:?page,(bg:(gradient: 0, 0,#000000,0.7365,#750000,0.9939,#e61919)))

You slump over in relief, your lungs expanding rapidly, sucking in deep moutfuls of sweet air. Sweat drips down your forehead. Your back is killing you, deep pulses of sharp pain echoing down your spine. You are too old for this. You feel.... (dropdown: bind $emotion, "Fine","Angry", "Scared", "Suicidal", "Calm", "Curious","Happy", "Deja Vu","Who cares?"). You look around. (click-replace:"You look around.")[You look around, a single water cooler to your right, and a large artifical plant on the left, deep green leaves untouched by the chaos outside. You think it's a Pothos, but you can't be certain. You never had much of a green thumb. You had moved these pieces of office decor to hide yourself more expertly, to create your own little garden of Eden admist the bureaucrats whose sole purpose in life was to file papers and correct you on your adherence to company policy. You remember getting told off for your socks being out of regulation. It was a fuzzy pink pair your wife had gotten you. A bit guilty, you totally hope that guy is dead. You glance down with the thought. (click-replace:"You glance down with the thought.")[You glane down with the thought, and your eyes widen. On the ground in front of you, so slick with dark blood you'd almost missed it in the dim lighting, is a faint glow. You shine your photonbeam at it. (button:)[[Examine.]] ] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/540634__zhr__horror-ambient.mp3" autoplay loop>

You're so sick of hiding. You want to fight: you don't find anything useful as a weapon in Dr. Li's office, but it's something. It could be your home-base. You could defend it. You could stand your ground, at the very least. You could die, knowing at least you fought. Knowing you tried. [[On second thought, let's try running.->Outrun the monsters.]] [[Fight these things.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/banging%20on%20metal%20door%20-%20sound%20effect.mp3" autoplay loop>

Your mind races as the door rattles. You can see the shapes bent out of the metal, an unnatural strength powering your grotesque advesaries. There's blood all over the office, all over the entire station, as far as you know. You try very hard to not think about how many people have died: how many people you knew, worked with,. You try not to think about what happened to your family. They are fine. They have to be. With a breath, you brace yourself. It's now or never, you suppose. You did track, once upon time, as a teenager. It was three decades ago, but it can't be that different. All you do is put one foot in front of another, right? [[Open the door.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/banging%20on%20metal%20door%20-%20sound%20effect.mp3" autoplay loop>

Oh shit. Your mouth falls open in surprise. [[Examine 2.<- It's a gun.]] (if:$emotion is "Angry")[(set: $Anger to it + 1)] \ (if:$emotion is "Scared")[(set: $ScaredyCat to it +1)] \ (if: $emotion is "Suicidal")[(set: $kys to it +1)]\ (if:$emotion is "Calm")[(set: $calm to it + 1)]\ (if:$emotion is "Who cares?")[(set: $sassy to it + 1)]\ (if:$emotion is "Happy")[(set: $optimist to it + 1)]\ (if:$emotion is "Deja Vu")[(Set: $Memory to it +1)]

You decide to go out, guns blazing. As much as you can, anyway. You might be totally, irrevocably fucked, but you have a weapon. A real one. You can do something about this: you can take as many of these things out before you go. One last big fucking blaze of glory. All you can do really, at this point, is to fight. (if:$Anger >= 3)[ And honestly, you wanted this. You have wanted, for so long, to be seen, heard, to //make// yourself seen and heard. You want to destroy something, for once, to make something -- someone -- else hurt. You want to let all this anger you've held your entire life, through endless shifts and jobs and hustles, all the boiling misery and fury and dread you've carried. Finally, you've found something to unleash it all. A target. You have a gun and a monster: what man doesn't have this fantasy? To be the hero. To be the destroyer. ] You feel the weight of the pistol in your hand, feeling the heft of it against your palm. It's heavier than you'd imagined, heavier than holographic video games had made them appear. Could you really use this? You know how to: you'd been trained, with blanks, for some workplace hazard prevention or compliance or whatever once upon a time. You remember the basics: how to aim it, how to turn off the safety. How to fire. That's really all you need, right? [[Fight.]]

<image src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/IMG_4450.png"> Slowly, the edges of his skin twitch and pulling taut and backwards in sick display of viscera. You feel queasy. The sight underneath is not just sinew and muscle, like you'd expect. There's something else underneath, something with a gaping maw with jagged -- human -- teeth lining the opening of its 'mouth', a tongue unfurling from somewhere within. <img src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/IMG_4452.png"> The folds of skin flex, like tendrils testing their strength, and what used to be your coworker takes a step towards //''you.''// [[Run.]] (Set:$Joe to true) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/horror%20flesh%20rip%20tear%20bone%20crack.mp3" autoplay>

(enchant:?page,(bg:#8f0000)) ###(text-style:"shudder")[ [|flicker>['''You can’t be here.'''] ]<JoesWords| ] (enchant: ?JoesWords's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 300) + (t8n:'instant')) [[Stay anyway.]] [[Get up and leave. Fuck this.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/193692__julius_galla__atmosphere-horror-1-loop%20(1).wav" autoplay>

Well, that sort of thing is typical in your line of work. You're not allowed to talk about it, anyway. You signed a non-disclosure agreement and everything. Still, you think about it sometimes, publishing a massive tell-all about the horrific workplace |A>[GOSHA] violations you've seen in the bowels of deep space. But you don't really have the time to worry about that, or the skill to write it. Nobody would pay to hear you talk about facts of life everyone is used to. And you'd still remember the sensation of your skin melting off and smell of burnt flesh and plastic, anyway. [[But what if?]] (click-append:?A)+(t8n:'dissolve')[// (Galatic Occupational Safety and Health Administration)//]

Sure, it's an idle fantasy of yours, but wouldn't it be so satisfying? Hasn't everyone wanted to talk back to their boss? Haven't you wanted to quit for so long? So many endless hours working, endless factory lines for the 'good' of the station. What if you didn't care? They gave you your eye back, but is that enough? Don't you want your pound of flesh? [[Yes.-> 1]] [[What?]]

You're being crazy right now. I have no idea what you're saying. You're way too old to have a rebellious streak, and now is certainly not the time. (set: $ScaredyCat to it +1) [[Climb out of the chamber.]]

What if you did something about it? What if you didn't have to capitulate to the same faceless bosses, the people who couldn't care less if you lived or died? What if you fought? What if you won? [[But you're a family man!]] [[I want to taste blood.]] (set: $Anger to it + 1)

You could call this one a bad ending, sure. Really, you just lacked a level of spirit and drive that a horror sci-fi setting necessitates. It's a shame, but sometimes that's all you can do. I can't really be mad at you for it: but somewhere, you have a daughter who's waiting for you. (click-replace: "you have a daughter who's waiting for you. ")[you have a daughter who's waiting for you. Don't you remember her? The feeling of the tiny pulse of her heartbeat as she uses her little fingers to grasp your thumb? Her first steps, teetering and clumsy?] (click-replace: "Her first steps, teetering and clumsy?")[Her first steps, teetering and clumsy? Her toothy smile? Can you remember any of it? [[Why can't I remember?]]]

The thought enters your mind, but it's too late. You'd already committed yourself to suicide, simply dunking yourself back into the liquid vat you emerged from. As you drown, the few synapses left in your brain fire, neurons desperately trying to remember. Your fists hammer against the glass, but the pod has already closed behind you. Do you remember your daughter's eye color? What was your wife's name? Does it matter? You wanted this. (click-replace: "You wanted this.")[You wanted this. Well, there's always another life. [[Try Again.]]] (Set: $Memory to it +1) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Drowning%20-%20Sound%20Effect.mp3" autoplay>

Try Again. (restart:)

The station must be on auxillary power; nothing is lit except for the red of emergency lights. You wonder about the oxygen levels, the life support systems. Your kid has asthma. Will she be okay? You had been working to afford her new lung cybernetics, but the co-pay was just too steep. You should get back to work, soon. Your boss won't be happy about this. You (link-reveal: "look around.")[(show: ?Medbay)] (t8n-arrive:"flicker")[ |Medbay)[The rest of the chambers are faintly illuminated by your own. Yours is the only one activated, a faint hum from the hydraulics. The rest of the machines are off. That's abnormal. This area is usually bustling with activity. Where is everyone? You're in space without power or people, and you may not have a degree, but you're pretty sure this is not good. (button:)[[Damn. Just kill yourself.]] (button:)[[Look around for anything useful.]]] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/174450__sonicfreak__space-ambience.wav" autoplay loop>

You have a family! Kids, a mortgage. Sure, your job sucks -- mining is not a lucrative field, and it's dangerous and crappy and you'll probably die sooner than you should but... That's being an adult. That's the way life is, on XR-5089. Hell, it's the way life is across the entire Milky Way: billions and billions of pawns and laborers and pawns in someone else's schemes. It's just the way it is. What can you do? [[Climb out of the chamber.]] (Set: $Memory to it +1)

This rage, you've been carrying it with you for a while. If you're being honest with yourself, maybe your entire life. The feeling pools in your gut, caldescent fury at your boss, at the world, at (text-style:"shudder")[//everything//.] (set: $Anger to it + 1) (link-reveal: "Your head thuds.")[ |revealedText>[ You work so fucking hard, everyday, and for *what?* To pay bills and bills and bills, just to stay alive? You eat your grey space station rations day after day because you have to. You work overtime and risk your life just so your kid can stay clothed and warm. Not everyone works as hard as you, and yet, you're the one with less. You're the one always scraping and saving and working so damn hard. Well, fuck it. #### //Whatever lies ahead of you, you're going to fight it.// [[Climb out of the chamber.]] ] ] (enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:red)) (enchant: ?revealedText's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant'))

(set:_shake to (animate:?passage,'rumble')) sss

You are resolved to do as much damage as possible. You duck out from the alcolve, and you another monster; a massive obstacle blocking the only enterance to the pods. At least, you think that's what you're looking at. It is more apt to describe it as a well of flesh: it seems these things had merged, coalesced into a behemoth, grotesque and monsterous and awe-inspiring all at once. You've never seen a living thing so big before: it reminds you of being small, and young, purely by virture of being so huge. (if:$Memory >= 2)[ //The memory comes into sharp focus: toddling on your litle legs, too big for your small body, looking up at a building. You're back on a planet, not a SPARK station but with real soil beneath your feet, real air in your lungs. It's a steel spire of impressive proportion, and you feel, for the first time, the understanding that the world is big. So big you can't even imagine -- bigger than your parents, bigger than you could ever see. Big enough to scare you. Big enough to inspire you. You wanted to see what the world had to offer. Are you grateful now, for that choice?// ] The being has appendages sticking out of it, like your toy soldiers you'd left out in the heat in your boyhood, limbs and faces together in the hot sun. This thing stands at least two stories high: bigger than any animal, any alien you'd ever even heard of. You can see it breath and contract. Its skin is covered with weeping sores. (text-style:"underline")[''Target fucking acquired.''] (link:"Pull the trigger.")[ (set: $roll to (random: 1, 100))Your desperate gamble (if: $roll <= 50)[pays off. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[=>->Hit.]] ](elseif: $roll >= 50)[doesn't work. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[Don't Hit<- =>]]] ]

You try to open your eyes. Your head pounds, and you can see the ceiling above you. Something hurts. Your head rings. Are you even still alive? { (set: $max to 0) (set: $topTrait to "") (if: $investigator >=3 and $investigator > $max)[ (set: $max to $investigator) (set: $topTrait to "investigator") ] (if: $Anger >=3 and $Anger > $max)[ (set: $max to $Anger) (set: $topTrait to "Anger") ] (if: $optimist >= 3 and $optimist > $max)[ (set: $max to $optimist) (set: $topTrait to "optimist") ] (if: $ScaredyCat >= 3 and $ScaredyCat > $max)[ (set: $max to $ScaredyCat) (set: $topTrait to "ScaredyCat") ] (if: $Memory >= 3 and $Memory > $max)[ (set: $max to $Memory) (set: $topTrait to "Memory") ] (if: $Calm >= 3 and $Calm > $max)[ (set: $max to $Calm) (set: $topTrait to "Calm") ] (if: $kys >= 4)[ [[Give up.]] ] (else-if: $topTrait is "investigator")[ [[ What happened?]] ] (else-if: $topTrait is "Anger")[ [[What the fuck?]] ] (else-if: $topTrait is "optimist")[ [[That wasn't so bad.]] ] (else-if: $topTrait is "ScaredyCat")[ [[You're not dead.]] ] (else-if: $topTrait is "Memory")[ [[You're not dead.]] ] (else-if: $topTrait is "Calm")[ [[Well, that hurt.]] ] (else-if: $sassy >= 2)[ [[What if I don't want to?]] ] (else-if: $Joe is true)[ [[ What happened?]] ] (else:)[ [[You're not dead.]] ] } <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/218050__hykenfreak__ringing-in-the-ears.wav" autoplay> <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/264900__speedenza__desolate-wasteland-background.wav" autoplay loop>

##THE GIVE UP ENDING You tried to open your eyes, or at least to hold on to awareness, but it slipped away from you. Or rather, you let it slip from you. Memories flash by your mind, but with a muted awareness, you find you don’t quite care. You killed yourself. (link: "No, seriously, really.")[ You might have survived otherwise, but there's something that bothers you, something intrinsic that calls to you. A longing to give up, perhaps. To simply stop it all. Were you born like this? You try to remember your childhood, but it's (link:"blurry.")[ Did you, at some unfathomable age, just decide 'No'? Maybe it was the genetically modified mushy peas you ate in third grade. Or maybe it was just the decades of hard labor and adult responsibilities. Maybe it's even the horrifying monsters you've had to fight today, fleshy-appendages with rows and rows of teeth and eyes, overlapping in obscene, gory fractals. I’m not sure I blame you. Well, whatever it was, your spirit is broken. In fact, you tried to kill yourself(text-colour:red)[ (print:$kys)] times. That's impressive, in its own way. A bit morbid, maybe. You don’t know what happened to your daughter, or your wife, but I don’t think that matters anymore. What matters is that you don’t have to keep going, keep fighting. I hope it’s (link-reveal:"peaceful.")[(show:?hotline)(show:?button)] (enchant:?hotline, (color:grey)) |hotline)[//This is meant to be a facetious game, but if this evokes real emotions or feelings of despair, help is available. Speak with someone today. In the United States, you can call the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. If your life or someone else's is in imminent danger, please call 911. (link:"International Suicide Hotlines")[(gotoURL:"https://blog.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines/")] avaliable here.// There are currently 10 endings and over 150 unique events. Your choices in this game matter. Can you get them all?]] |button)[(button:)[[Play again]] ]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555180__audio_dread__intense-chaotic-horror-ambiance.wav" autoplay loop>

The monsterous -- thing -- charges at you, and you get the distinct feeling that you are out of your depth. HR never trained you for this. Hell, nothing in your entire life has prepared you for this. You in fact begin to think that you are fucked: royally so, as you barely move out of the way of its massive maw, teeth and flesh clenching down in a sickening crunch. It doesn't move like anything you've ever seen before. It stutters and moves, but not like an animal. Instead, when you glance back at it from your crouched position, you see it look back at you. It cocks its head. You realize may be out of your element. [[Survive.]]

The thing lets out a sound, an echoing cry. There's a distant quality to it, like you can almost hear words, human syllables in the sound. You think of wolves, hunting in packs. It might be calling for others. Knowing your luck, it is. As you look into its eyes, you are struck with the uncanny sensation of being watched, the hairs on the back of your neck raising. Does its eyes, glassy and unfocused, see you? Does it understand you? Know you? You don't have many options left. (button:)[[Fight it.->Fuck it. Charge at the thing.]] (button:)[[Run away.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/367460__univ_lyon3__menez_corentin_2016_2017_evil-cat-scream.wav" autoplay loop>

Holy shit you are not messing with that. Nope, nope -- nope. Just, no. You run the opposite direction of that thing, as fast as you possibly can. You move faster than you ever have in your entire life, the memory of wet gurgling crunches as it moved echoing in your head. You don't know exactly what is going on, but you know you need to get the fuck out of there. You run as far as you possibly can, more than you ever have in your life. You think back on your life choices, and how exactly you ended up here. (click-replace:"how exactly you ended up here.")[reflect on your decisions. You live on Space Station XR--5089 not necessarily because you wanted to, but because you had to. It was the only place you could afford, the only place that would let you work a potentially lethal job in exchange for experimental bio-technologies -- anything for your daughter. You are scared shitless, out of your fucking mind, but the reminder of your kid steeles your nerves. You're only here for her. You just need to survive whatever is going on long enough to see her again. (set: $ScaredyCat to it +1)\ [[Catch your breath.-> 5]] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Breathing%20%26%20Running%20Ambience%20Sound%20Effect%20Metal%20Footsteps.mp3" autoplay loop>

The choice of hair was $hair.

''Examples of tw-link element based links'' A hidden link that's always hidden: [[A hidden link]] A hidden link that hides unless you're hovering over it: [[A hidden link]] A hidden link that reveals itself when you hover over it: [[A hidden link]] ''Examples of .enchantment-link CSS class based links'' A hidden link that's always hidden: [A hidden link]<link| A hidden link that hides unless you're hovering over it: [A hidden link]<link| A hidden link that reveals itself when you hover over it: [A hidden link]<link| You feel... (cycling-link: bind $emotion, "Angry", "Scared", "Suicidal", "Calm", "Curious") (click: ?link)[(go-to: "A hidden link")]

(restart:)

(change: ?page's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) You stop short of coming into the light. (click:"light")[There are things moving down there. Things -- not people. You can hear them. (click:"them")[Shit. The station is a// mess. // Is there anyone left? (click:"left")[ ######|flicker>[Damn, you're so fucked.] [[Think about how fucked you are.]] [[Actually, let's focus on the positives.]]] ] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/176930__trebblofang__cave_monsters.flac" autoplay loop>

You pant, resting your hands on your knees. You're too old to be running like this. Your back hurts. As you take another grateful gulp of space station-oxygenated air (and try not to think about how little of it the station has left), you look up. You're at the upper level of the observation deck. You can see the machines below. (transition-arrive: "dissolve")[[Look.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/386530__glennm__breathing_heavy.wav" autoplay loop>

The door slides open with a hiss, and you can see it. A monstrous, putrid thing. You've noticed some of them look different from each other. Some of the ones you'd seen were more like blobs, the sort of approximations at shapes your daughter made with play-dough once upon a time, thick strudels of dough oozing out of plastic molds. Like their flesh couldn't be contained by the skin, bursting apart at the seams. This one, though, feels almost familar. There's no discernable facial features of course: rather, this one reminds you of a flower, skin split into gory viscera in petals. It's almost beautiful in its symmetry, but it's not that that makes you feel a sense of familarity. There's something about the gait, something about the distinct human-ness of it. Human-ness? Are they people? (if:$investigator >= 3)[ You read those documents. You put the pieces together in your mind, slowly. Dr. Li was working on nanobot applications for organic matter. In other words, self-replicating cells. Is that what these things are? A technologically augmented form of cancer? Things that used to be people? Forced to replicate and replicate, only knowing they must consume? The thought is unsettling, but the logic of it is satisfying. They are not some kind of unknowable monsters. It is a medical affliction. That means there must be some sort of solution, right? ''There has to be.''] You don't get the chance to think deeply about this: the moment it sees you, it charges. [[Escape.]]

A spark of recognition gives you [[pause.]]

You don't recognize him per say, though you're sure you must've crossed paths at least once. What you recognize instead is the smile on his partner's face, the closeness of their bodies. It pulls at something, a memory of warm, calloused hands and the sound of laughter. You fiddle with the band of your own wedding ring. Should you do this? Take the award? It's different now, seeing his face, his life. All of a sudden, he's a person. You wonder briefly about the life he must've lead, to be so successful. You might even have bumped paths, once or twice. [[He's probably dead. He won't miss it. You deserve this.]] [[On second thought, no. He might come back.]]

The realization comes to you sharply, and the world comes into focus. You are lying on the floor. You don't hear anything but your own shallow breathing. Everything hurts. Something is wrong. You reach up to your face, and your hand comes away tacky with blood. You can feel and hear hunks of hair and flesh slough off your face and drop welty onto the floor. Shit. You should take a look at yourself. There's a glass window to your side. You gingerly shuffle onto your knees, then your feet. You walk to it. You're scared of what you might find. [[Examine your injury.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555179__audio_dread__creepy-horror-ambient-drone.wav" autoplay loop>

For what seems like the millionth time today, you run. You're beginning to feel sick of running, of hiding. Your eyes take in the station as they pass by in a blur, and you get an idea of what exactly has happened to the station. You keep hoping you'll find someone else, some place safe.. After all, you can breathe. There's some electrity. Life support is still online. You can't be the only one left. ''You can't. '' The thought is disconcerting, and you only run faster with it. You feel like you might pass out, your lungs screaming for breath, your feet pounding against the metal. Your thighs burn; everything does, your whole body screaming for relief. You don't stop. (click-replace:"You don't stop.")[You finally stop when you turn the corner. You'd ducked into an alcove, a spot you used to smoke in before your wife made you quit. The area is relatively hidden, and its a stroke of luck you found it. You must've run towards it on autopilot, so many years of hiding here from your supervisors, killing time or waiting for the digging pains in your spine to dissipate. [[Catch your breath.]] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Breathing%20%26%20Running%20Ambience%20Sound%20Effect%20Metal%20Footsteps.mp3" autoplay loop>

Fuck it. You've made it this far. You are going to go out swinging, or not at all. Your rough barricade of Dr. Li's chair, propped against the door begins to fail. The locking mechanism on these doors is not something you can really prevent; and it's only a matter of time before they enter. It was easy enough for you to get in, after all. (if:$Anger >= 2)[ You've spent so much of your life being meek, being polite. Hiding yourself, holding back. You've had enough. You deserve better, don;t you? A part of you just wants to see if you can injure these things, if you can penetrate the flesh, if you can kill them. You want to know if there's an inside to them, soft and pliable and vulnerable. You want to confirm they're not immortal. You want to know they can hurt. You want them to hurt. ] You steele your nerves, breathing deeply. It's now, or never. (set: $Anger to it + 1) [[Face the music.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/banging%20on%20metal%20door%20-%20sound%20effect.mp3" autoplay loop>

With a groan, the metal slides open. You are perched behind Dr. Li's overturned desk, biding your time to attack. You can see it. A monstrous, putrid thing. You've noticed some of them look different from each other. Some of the ones you'd seen were more like blobs, the sort of approximations at shapes your daughter made with play-dough once upon a time, thick strudels of dough oozing out of plastic molds. Like their flesh couldn't be contained by the skin, bursting apart at the seams. This one, though, feels almost familar. (click-replace:"feels almost familar.")[There's no discernable facial features of course: rather, this one reminds you of a flower, skin split into gory viscera in petals. It's almost beautiful in its symmetry, but it's not that that makes you feel a sense of familarity. There's something about the gait, something about the distinct human-ness of it. Human-ness? Are they people? (if:$investigator >= 3)[ You read those documents. You put the pieces together in your mind, slowly. Dr. Li was working on nanobot applications for organic matter. In other words, self-replicating cells. Is that what these things are? A technologically augmented form of cancer? Things that used to be people? Forced to replicate and replicate, only knowing they must consume? The thought is unsettling, but the logic of it is satisfying. They are not some kind of unknowable monsters. It is a medical affliction. That means there must be some sort of solution, right? ''There has to be.'' ] (else-if:$Anger >= 2)[ You think about it, turning the idea around in your head. No, they are not. They're monsters, things for you to destroy, to kill. To hurt. You need to do this. They would hurt you, hurt your family. You don't have a choice. ''They need to pay.'' ] You don't have much time to muse, however, as you crouch. You only have so much time before it sees you. (button:)[[Aim for the 'neck.']] (button:)[[Turn tail and run.]] ]

You grip the scalpel in your hand tightly. You will fight this thing, and you will win, you tell yourself, springing out from behind the desk. With a swing, you heave your weight forward, into the fleshy juncture of the monster's 'neck', or what you assume it to be, and you can hear that satisfying sizzle of flesh as it sinks in. And then, it keeps sinking in, and you blink. The skin around it has parted, has opened itself in a macabre blossom, peeling itself back to reveal dark red wetness, viscera and stringly blood. You can smell it, the hot iron, the stench of decay, of intestines. It stings your nose. The scalpel dissapears into the thing, its hilt one last flash of light before its consumed. It sees you now. So that didn't work. (set:$scalpel to false) [[Fucking run.]]

You think about your choice once more, as you see the thing lurch around. It bleeds profusely, blood and flesh sloughing off it in heaps. It's leaving a trail, chunky and thick with bits of organs. Your mom didn't raise a coward -- except, no, she did. She totally fucking did. This is not something you feel ready to handle. It's not something you can handle really, anyway. This fight isn't worth it. That monster is not worth facing head on. (set: $ScaredyCat to it +1) [[Sneak out.]]

You sneak out: or well, you try to, tip-toeing your way out of a crouch, staying hidden to the best of your ability. You balance your weight on the balls of your feet, testing your weight. Unfortunately, your knees aren't what they used to be, and in a catastrophic moment, you miss your footing. You don't fall, but you don't land quietly, either. The thud is enough to catch its attention. It sees you. That's not good. [[Fucking run.]]

####|flicker>[''NOPE NOPE NOPE''] That is the repeating mantra inside your head as you run and run and run and run, not for the first time today. You are determined: you not going to be eaten or whatever the fuck those things do today. You are going to get your ass out of this, and if that requires hiding, so be it. It's the logical answer to run in this situation. Its your only choice, really. (if: $ScaredyCat >= 2)[ In fact, it may be the only answer for you now. You've seen horror holo-flicks, watched the entire zombie survival genre. Never once did all-out fighting ever work. You don't fight the guy in the hockey mask: you run. Machine phaser-guns can only last so far, kill so many zombies in a horde. The best move was always to hide and escape. Whatever these things are, they're worse than the monsters of fiction you'd imagined. Of course they are: they're actually fucking real. You make a promise to yourself: your life comes first. It's the only way you can see your daughter and wife again. You just need to stay alive until then, allegations of cowardice be damned. ] (else-if: $Anger >= 2)[You hate running, would rather rip it apart with your bare hands, but what can you do? You're simply a fish facing a much bigger fish. You're prey. What can deer do but run? The thought makes you seethe, shake with indignation. You will make it pay -- you will make //them// pay, when you finally can. You promise yourself blood. But later: when you can flip the tables. When you find a weapon, a ''real ''one. ] So you run. (click-replace:"So you run.")[So you run, and you can hear it behind you, gurgling wretchedly, wet cries echoing off the metal of the ship. Your legs burn and your lungs spasm with the lack of air, but you don't stop. You can't: as you continue, you can see glimpses of the station. You keep hoping you'll find someone else, some place safe. After all, you can breathe. There's some electrity. Life support is still online. You can't be the only one left, right? The thought doesn't do much to assuage you as your feet pound against the metal. You feel like you might pass out, your lungs screaming for breath, your vision dark at the edges. Your thighs burn; everything does, your whole body screams at you for relief. You don't stop. (click-replace:"You don't stop.")[You only stop when you can be assured that you aren't being chased, having reached your body's physical limit. You'd ducked into an alcove, a spot you used to smoke in before your wife made you quit. The area is relatively hidden, and its a stroke of luck you found it. You must've run towards it on autopilot, so many years of hiding here from your supervisors, killing time or waiting for the digging pain in your back to dissipate. [[Catch your breath.]] ] ] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/Breathing%20%26%20Running%20Ambience%20Sound%20Effect%20Metal%20Footsteps.mp3" autoplay loop>

There's (text-colour:cyan)[3 fusion cells left]. 3 shots. 3 chances to put an end to this. 3 bullets you could defend your family with. You inhale sharply, looking at the glowing blue pellets. The cheery neon glow of the gun continues on, oblivious to the carnage in the station. You know how these work. You could always use one of them on yourself, if it came to that. Your mind races with the possibilities. What can you do? What should you do, now? Now that you have a weapon, a real one, that can hurt those things? (if:$Anger >= 3)[ [[Kill them.]] ] (else:)[ (button:)[[Kill them.]] (button:)[[Find your daughter.]] (button:)[[Find an exit.]] (button:)[[Shoot yourself.]] //[[Only three?]]// ] (set:$cells to 3) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/642576__sauli__toymisc_foam-dart-gun-sharpshooter-handling-ammo-check-var1_sauli.wav" autoplay>

You think about her. Your kid.... A smart girl. A sweet girl. A sickly girl. Something doesnt quite fit. What is she like? What is your last memory of her? You remember holding her in your arms, a blossom of warmth against your chest. You can almost feel the phantom squeeze of her tiny little fingers, as a baby, holding on to your thumb. You remember that, but what else? When did you get seperated from her? How could you ever let her go? What color are her eyes? (link: "It doesn't matter, now.")[You have to find her. [[Search.]] ] (Set: $Memory to it +1)

You hold the pistol in your hand. (if:$ScaredyCat >= 2)[You hate it, the feeling of it, the knowledge that it could go off and explode. It radiates danger, and you hate danger. You press your hand against its hilt gingerly, testing its safety.] It's hefty, heavier than you'd imagined, heavier than holographic video games had made them appear. Can you really use this? You'd been trained to use these, with blanks, for some workplace hazard prevention once upon a time. It feels like a lifetime ago, but you remember the basics: how to aim it, how to turn off the safety. You try to recall the meeting. (click-replace:"You try to recall the meeting.")[In that same (mandatory) meeting, you were briefed on emergency protocols, escape routes. You weren't really paying attention, much to your regret now, because you had recieved a call that your utility bill was late and your Resi-Module had been temporarily relieved of its electricity. The lady from HR (or was it GOSHA? OR IOSHA? You can't remember now) had presented a map, an contingency. The station, as is demanded by procedure, is prepped with escape pods. This means potentially leaving your family behind. But you reason with yourself: if they're alive, they're somewhere safe. They must be on a neighboring planet or station, waiting for you. They must have made it out, right? You just have to find them, let them know you're okay. You make a note to never ground your kid ever again, when you see her. Life's too short. [[Find an escape pod.]] [[What if she's still on the station? You need to find your kid! ->Find your daughter.]] ] (set: $ScaredyCat to it +1)

You point the barrel of the pistol at yourself, pressing it to your temple. The metal is cold. You swallow thickly. You'd been avoiding this truth for a while, but after everything you've seen today, you can feel it, an inevitable truth pooling in your gut. Your family isn't alive. Nobody is. You're the last human being in this station, maybe this entire god-foresaken quadrant, and there's no one coming to save you. No rescue team, no hidden security guard. (link:"You hope your wife and kid died painlessly.")[You hope your wife and kid died painlessly, but you know that's not true. Everything here is so excrutiating. There's nothing to fight for. You're all alone. You click the safety off. The sound vibrates against your skull. [[Just kidding!]] [[Do it.]] ] (set:$kys to it +1) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/2855__nathanshadow__horror_ambient_001.wav" autoplay>

Fuck. Are you really going to do this? You feel desolate. The miasma of fear and desperation threaten to overwhelm you. This, you think, is an unusual circumstance. It's terrifying, out here. What are you supposed to do? Live? Like this? What life is left? (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[You pull the trigger.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/580860__dragofer__distant.ogg" autoplay loop>

Wow, that was a dark thought. You shake yourself out of your reverie. Dang, emo much? You can't let yourself think like that: you know your family is alive, you can feel it. And the station is huge: massive enough to operate like its own nation-state, a corporate-sponsored colony not affiliated with any Earth governments. There may be a safe area: the squads of the station's security force -- the para-military SWAT teams you'd seen patrolling your quadrant day after day -- must have figured something out. You have to stay alive long enough. You repeat that to yourself several times, trying to strengthen your resolve. The gun leaves your temple, and you let out a sigh of relief. Wow. You must have been under a lot of stress. You shrug to yourself. Sometimes that's just the way the cookie crumbles, you suppose. You still have a life to live, options to choose. (button:)[[Kill them.]] (button:)[[Find an exit.]]

You once again reach for the trophy. It seems stuck in place; Dr. Li must use some sort of adhesive to ensure the normal turbulence of the station doesn't uproot all his belongs. You yank with much more force than before, grunting with effort, and something clicks. However, instead of the award coming away cleanly in your hands, you hear mechanical gears turning. It seems like the award was a lever. Hmm. As you are processing this, you hear something loud behind you. [[Turn around.]] (set: $Anger to it + 1) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/sci%20fi%20door%20sound%20effect.mp3" autoplay>

Like, sure. Things right now do look pretty grim: you don't know if anyone is left, you don't know how things will go. You mind races with thoughts, logistics to figure out. Where's your family? Does your insurance plan cover this? If you survive, will your premiums increase? Can you afford it? Oh, and what about the monsters pounding on the door? But can you really do anything about any of that, right now? It's just you, your photonbeam, and your scalpel against the world currently. At least you're in relatively good health. Don't you always try to look on the bright side of things? [[What? No I don't.]] [[Yeah! You know what, it'll be okay.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/banging%20on%20metal%20door%20-%20sound%20effect.mp3" autoplay loop>

You're not that kind of guy; never have been. Instead, your serenity stems from the fact that there's no point panicking. So what there are horrifying flesh monsters that have apparently taken over the station? What are you going to do? Cry about it? You're grown. There's nothing you can do but move forward. You'd been this way your entire life: figuring things out, one step at a time. Sure, this sucks, but is it any worse than the mining accident you'd been in years ago? Is this any worse than overtime to pay off medical debts? The time your daughter had a seizure? You've survived worse, really. You let yourself think about your options, now that you aren't actively panicking. There has to be something else you can do. Isn't there? (click-replace:"Isn't there?")[ Well, not really. It's stay in here or run away from those things, not fucking rocket science. [[Try to defend the office.]] [[Outrun the monsters.]] ] (set: $calm to it + 1) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/banging%20on%20metal%20door%20-%20sound%20effect.mp3" autoplay loop>

It's a standard issue phaser-gun, the generic little ones security officers carry around. The blood on it suggests someone else had found your little slice of heaven, and had gotten caught. Whether by person or 'thing', you're not sure, but given there's no body to be found, you get the feeling that your little alcove isn't so secure after all. It's not a rifle, but it will do. You hope to whatever higher power exists that it has any fires left. [[Check the cannister.]]

What's with all the doom and gloom talk? You still have both your legs, and your hands, and they work perfectly fine. A lot of people can't say that. Your family is alive and out there, you know it; just as much as you know that the sky is black and dappled with twinkling stars, or that you're alive. You breathe, deeply. Your lungs expand, and you focus a memory, the sight your kid's gap-toothed smile. The memory is harder to recall than usual, some sort of brain fog from the stress and adrenaline, but you grasp the memory as tight to your chest as you can. Her pudgy little cheeks, the brightness in her eyes. You remember when she'd broke her ankle, playing in one of the station's modular metal gymnasiums for children, and you'd worried and worried and worried, until you felt a hand on the small of your back. Your wife had said she'd be okay. "Kids are sturdier than you think," she'd told you. You try to remember that. Your family is strong, and so you are too. You'll find them. [[Try to defend the office.]] [[Outrun the monsters.]] (set:$optimist to it +1)

Your brow furrows as you concentrate, clenching your fists, trying to force your neurons to fire in order to recall the route. The pods should be near the auxillary power cells. You're on the right floor for it, you think, you just need to keep right. There are little blinking lights: exit signs, your mind supplies helpfully, a preventative measure taken after Horizons Corp. was sued for the danger of its SPARK stations. Unhelpfully, your mind echoes the entire title: Station for Planetary Acquisition, Retrieval, and Kinship -- a redunant phrase, you recall mentioning, but as your boss put it, 'They don't pay you to think. Get back to work.' (if:$Anger >= 3)[You hope to God that he's dead.] There are monsters abound of course, but your mission isn't to get their attention. You just need to survive long enough to get somewhere safe, to find your family. (if:$ScaredyCat >= 2)[A part of you thinks guiltily though, that if they hadn't escaped they're certainly not alive. There's no point in staying. You need to leave.] Holding the pistol in front of you, you move as stealthily as you can. It's not easy, at your age, but it's all you can do, holding your breath. You move behind columns, ducking into dark spots. (if:$Investigator >=3)[These things have different senses than you, you intuit. You just thank God they can't hear your thudding heartbeat.] [[Follow the lights.]] (set:$Escape to true)

You feel sorry for her. You imagine she must be in pain, even as her jaw distends, rows of molars and gnashing teeth revealed in one swift motion. Drool drips onto you wetly, a viscous mix of blood and bile and saliva sliding down your cheek. It burns. Still, you pity her. You pity her until her jaws snap shut, and you hear the wet crunch of your own bones beneath the force of it. You pity her until the moment you die. [[Wake up.]] (enchant:?page,(bg: red + black))

You follow the exit path lights as best you can, keeping to narrow corridors to make sure you aren't cornered or caught unawares. The things are everywhere, but you haven't seen a single corpse. The severity of your situation is beginning to wear down on you, erode whatever confidence you had in the safety of your loved ones. Still, you keep going, on the lookout. (link:"You aren't looking for a confrontation.")[You aren't looking for a confrontation. Which is why your heart drops when turn the corner. You've come face to face with another monster; a massive obstacle blocking the only enterance to the pods. At least, you think that's what you're looking at. It is more apt to describe it as a well of flesh: it seems these things had merged, coalesced into a behemoth, grotesque and monsterous and awe-inspiring all at once. You've never seen a living thing so big before: it reminds you of being small, and young, purely by virture of being so huge. (if:$Memory >= 2)[ //The memory comes into sharp focus: toddling on your litle legs, too big for your small body, looking up at a building. You're back on a planet, not a SPARK station but with real soil beneath your feet, real air in your lungs. It's a steel spire of impressive proportion, and you feel, for the first time, the understanding that the world is big. So big you can't even imagine -- bigger than your parents, bigger than you could ever see. Big enough to scare you. Big enough to inspire you. You wanted to see what the world had to offer. Are you grateful now, for that choice?// ] The being has appendages sticking out of it, like your toy soldiers you'd left out in the heat in your boyhood, limbs and faces together in the hot sun. This thing stands at least two stories high: bigger than any animal, any alien you'd ever even heard of. You can see it breath and contract. Its skin is covered with weeping sores. Fuck. [[Fight it.]] [[Run away. ->Run away again.]] [[Think rationally and calmly.]] ]

What's the point of having a weapon if you don't get to use it, right? You aim the pistol at the thing. If you can't kill it, you hope to at least wound it, to leave some sort of mark. Levelling your weapon at the monstrous wall of flesh before you, you fire. (if:$Memory >3)[You haven't come this far for nothing. You'll find your kid, or die trying.] As the beam illuminates its grotesque faces, you realize there might not have been any other option than this. It was always going to get you, sooner or later. It's hungry, and you're food, full of nutrients and red blood cells. It's natural, inevitable, even. (link:"You pull the trigger.")[ (set: $roll to (random: 1, 100))Your desperate gamble (if: $roll <= 50)[pays off. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[=>->Hit.]] ](elseif: $roll >= 50)[doesn't work. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[Don't Hit<- =>]]] ] (set:$cells to 3)

You've run so many times at this point, that it really just feels natural. You are a runner: you ran, your entire life, haven't you? (if:$ScaredyCat > 3)[It's all you've known: fear. You were scared of the dark, then scared of girls, then scared of your boss. Fear, to you, is natural. It's a necessity of biology: it is the instinct that has kept you alive thus far, isn't it? You ran from the monsters, sure, but it's not the only thing. You've run from //everything.// You're running from the truth, from what really happened.] (else-if:$Memory >= 3)[//You remember running from something, before, but your head thuds when you try to grasp at it, the visuals dissipating beyond your reach like trying to grab a spray of mist. You remember something: the sound of metal screeching, sparks flying. Burning. An explosion. Screaming. The thought makes you frown, your brows furrowing. When were you in an explosion? That's not how you lost your eye. What was that? You shake your head. Maybe it was a dream.//] When you turn your back, however, it is the exact moment that thing decides to pounce. As it roars, you find yourself instinctively bringing your gun out to fire. (if:$Anger >2)[A part of you was itching for a fight, anyway.] (link:"You pull the trigger.")[ (set: $roll to (random: 1, 100))Your desperate gamble (if: $roll <= 50)[pays off. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[=>->Hit.]] ](elseif: $roll >= 50)[doesn't work. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[Don't Hit<- =>]]] ] (set: $ScaredyCat to it +1) (set:$cells to 3)

(set: $calm to it + 1) You're a calm guy, always have been. You think about your options, think about what's available, what's left to you. Honestly, you're a bit sick of it, the whole blood-curdling, echoing cries and monsters and whatnot, but you're here. You kind of want a burger, but beyond that, you need to figure out what you're going to do. You'll surive, you're sure of it. You suppose it doesn't really matter how you feel about it; you've just got to keep going. As you think, the monster slams its appendages down. You dodge, just in the nick of time, curling into a ball. Well, you don't have many options now. [[Shoot.->Fight it.]] [[Run away. ->Run away again.]]

So, you're definitely alive. That smarts. You're lying on the floor, prone. It's sort of comfortable. When you press a finger to your face experimentally, it comes away sticky with blood. Ah. You frown, just a bit. Hmmm. There's a broken window near you. You push yourself up and onto your feet. It's a very reflective surface. Might as well [[check out the damage.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555179__audio_dread__creepy-horror-ambient-drone.wav" autoplay loop>

You're still alive. Of course you are -- why wouldn't you be? This is just the cherry on top of the shit sundae you've found yourself thrust into. You're pissed about it -- who wouldn't be? You are lying on the floor, your head sluggishly bleeding. You survived. Great. You rub at your forehead, blinking. Dried blood flakes off. What the fuck. There's a window near you. You might as well check up on your injury. [[Check your stupid reflection.]]

You remember. The ''accident''. The collapse on your station; it had happened because of some faulty wiring. You're not totally sure what happened: you just remember the building falling down around you, fire. Explosions. You remember burning; dying. You died. You know this. You don't remember anything after that, except waking up in the pod. But it confirms something: with your new metal visage, you're not who you used to be. You have the memories. You remember your childhood, your family, your wife. You remember it all. And you have a feeling you know just who did this. ###MEMORY ENDING. //You remembered your death and your family. You know who you are, even if you don't quite know what you are. Human, robot, monster: it doesn't matter. You're you; you've always been you, through it all. You look for your family and to forge a new life for yourself, the you that exists now. Human, yet not. // (show: ?NOTE) (enchant:?NOTE, (color:grey)) |NOTE>[There are currently 10 endings and over 150 unique events. Your choices in this game matter. Can you get them all?] (button:)[[Play again]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/456385__lost_dream__sad-or-happy-movie-scene.wav" autoplay loop>

You touch your face, expecting what you're seeing to be a mirage, some trick of the light. Virtual reality is a thing right? What about Snapchat filters? Is this like one of those? You know the answer, as you press a finger to your cheek, your fingers met with nothing but air. Fuck. You're part robot. Things click into place: why you're the only one still alive; how you'd survived. You test your jaw, and it moves. When did this happen? You have memories of your childhood. You remember a daughter, and a wife, don't you? What is wrong with you? You don't have answers. You don't know anything. You don't know what you want. You stand up. You wander around the station, aimless. ###NEUTRAL ENDING. //You spend the rest of your life on that station, purposeless. You're alive, sure. But why? What happened to you? You just don't know.// (show: ?NOTE) (enchant:?NOTE, (color:grey)) |NOTE>[There are currently 10 endings and over 150 unique events. Your choices in this game matter. Can you get them all?] (button:)[[Play again]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/214663__hykenfreak__deep-space-ship-effect.mp3" autoplay loop>

Holy shit, fuck that. Like actually, fuck that. You've had enough of this terrifying world, enough of these fucked up monsters and dramatic reveals. You can feel your flesh falling off your bone -- or should you say, your metal -- and you do not like it one bit. You have had fucking enough of all of it. You clench your fists, and retrace your steps. You make your way back to the Medbay. The capsule you'd emerged from glows in the dark. You step back inside. It closes around you. The water is tepid, comforting. (text-style:"buoy")[You drift. ] ###SCARED ENDING. //You couldn't handle the stress of your reality, and decided to return to hibernation. You remain in stasis indefinitely. At least you're resting. // (show: ?NOTE) (enchant:?NOTE, (color:grey)) |NOTE>[There are currently 9 endings and over 150 unique events. Your choices in this game matter. Can you get them all?] (button:)[[Play again]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555180__audio_dread__intense-chaotic-horror-ambiance.wav" autoplay loop>

That is peculiar, but you have always been calm, self-assured. Being a cyborg, or a robot, or whatever you are, doesn't really change that. You're sure there must be answers, clues, to how you became like this. Perhaps there's a reason why you look human, believe you are human, and yet hold a skeleton of metal inside you. Yet, you find you're not too concerned about that. There are monsters to kill, burgers to be had. A kid to find. This simply slots into a piece of your identity; you're forty years old, you're a father, and you're -- apparently -- a robot. That doesn't really bother you; you're still alive, aren't you? Could've been worse. ###SIGMA ENDING. //You stay on the station, fighting fucked-up science experiments. You still look for your family, but sort of half-heartedly. You're sort of busy being the Terminator. Answers will come to you -- or they won't. You don't really care. // (show: ?NOTE) (enchant:?NOTE, (color:grey)) |NOTE>[There are currently 9 endings and over 150 unique events. Your choices in this game matter. Can you get them all?] (button:)[[Play again]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/211551__waveplaysfx__drumbeats-melodic-ambient-beat-70-bpm.wav" autoplay loop>

You are a fucking robot. You'd find this more appalling if you weren't so driven by your anger at the world, your resentment at being told what to do, who to be. To kiss the boot, and lick it too. Rather, you find yourself rubbing your cheek, testing the bounds of your newly melted flesh. Your metal interior is fresh -- energizing -- in a way you don't expect. You are.... Awesome. Of course those things couldn't kill you. Of course you survived. Because you're better than a weak human; all organic matter perishes eventually. But not you: you are stronger -- angrier -- better. You begin to feel where the illusion of humanity ends, and the real you begins. Did you ever have a family? You don't particularly care. Rather, you want to taste blood; want to destroy everything you can. ###THE TERMINATOR ENDING. //You stay on the station, fighting fucked-up science experiments with glee. You are the fucking Terminator of this SPARK station, destroying everything that moves. You forget who you used to be -- you are something new, forged out of blood and ashes. You spend the rest of your life destroying flesh-eating monsters.// (show: ?NOTE)(enchant:?NOTE, (color:grey)) |NOTE>[There are currently 10 endings and over 150 unique events. Your choices in this game matter. Can you get them all?] (button:)[[Play again]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/464917__plasterbrain__ambient-loop-am-i-in-space-or-what.flac" autoplay loop>

You are lying on the floor. You don't hear anything but your own shallow breathing. Everything hurts. Something is definitely off. You reach up to your face, and your hand comes away tacky with blood. You can feel and hear hunks of hair and flesh slough off your face and drop welty onto the floor. It makes you curious. There's a glass window to your side. You gingerly shuffle onto your knees, then your feet. You walk to it. You wonder what you might find. [[Check yourself in the glass.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555179__audio_dread__creepy-horror-ambient-drone.wav" autoplay loop>

Things click into place. (if:$Joe is true)[Joe, the man you'd seen in the supply closet. The fact that the monsters used to be people. The fact that you survived. Of course: you're alive, because you're not fully organic. You're not totally sure why you aren't organic, but you have the feeling that if you rummage around more, you'd be able to figure it out. You have learned a lot about these beings, what they're capable of. What they are. While you are not entirely sure how you ended up like this, it's not such a reach to figure out. You're not well-off, and the SPARK station isn't beholden to all intergalactic laws. Cutting edge science requires subjects. You must've been an unlucky participant. Maybe you were willing, uploading your brain and your memories to be housed in a semi-organic android. Maybe you'd died. Maybe you never existed at all. This does not scare you as much as you think it might've. You know things: you can always find out more. You're inquisitive. ###JOE ENDING. //You're not totally sure what happened to you, but you have an idea. Seeing a man turn into one of those things before your eyes has changed how you see them; how you see yourself. You're not human. You're something more. It makes you feel invincible. You will never become one of those things.// ](else:)[ You read those documents; you can feel the pieces click together in your brain. Dr. Li. The infrastructure collapse. Something about that had felt familar to you; you'd felt drawn to it. It was your mining detail. You're not quite sure you remember this, but it feels right, knowledge as natural as 1 + 1. You died, that day. Dr. Li, in all his ingenuity, was working towards resurrecting the dead. Turning someone immortal. You suppose that must have been what happened to you: a recreation of a dead life, in an organic casing. You wonder if he's alive, just like you, a human brain rattling around in a metal shell. The monsters were just one avenue of his experimentation gone wrong. You can't find it in your heart to totally hate him. You would do a lot for your family, too. ###INVESTIGATOR ENDING. //You know what happened to you, even if you don't recall it. Your thirst for knowledge and desire to find out the truth motivates you. You continue through the station, finding out more pieces to your puzzle. Who knows? You might even find your family. //] (enchant:?NOTE, (color:grey)) |NOTE>[There are currently 10 endings and over 150 unique events. Your choices in this game matter. Can you get them all?] (button:)[[Play again]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555179__audio_dread__creepy-horror-ambient-drone.wav" autoplay loop>

You wake up. That really wasn't so bad. Still, you feel blood drip down your temple. You're laying on the floor, the metal cold against your spine. Wow, that feels good on your back. You always told your wife you preferred a harder surface, anyway. Still, you know you're injured. You should check on that. There's a glass window to your side. You shuffle onto your knees, then your feet. You walk to it. You're probably fine. [[Look at your face!]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555179__audio_dread__creepy-horror-ambient-drone.wav" autoplay loop>

You have a happy-go-lucky attitude about all of this. So what, you're half robot, half human? You still have a killer face card. And now you look kind of cool and badass, like a non-evil Twoface. Or a cooler Jekyll and Hyde -- you hope. You figure you can explain it to your daughter that way, or something like that. You've seen a lot, fought things, run from things. You've done a lot in your life too: raised a family, been married. You are not the sum of what has happened to you: you are defined by what you do. That's what you believe, at least. You're grateful you're still alive. If being half-robot is the price of that, so what? You still have so much going for you. ###OPTIMIST ENDING. //Your positive attitude has given you a new lease on life, in addition to the whole robot thing. You're a nice guy already, but being positive means you can escape and fight all the horrifying monsters you want with a smile on your face. What? This is what inner peace looks like, okay?// (enchant:?NOTE, (color:grey)) |NOTE>[There are currently 10 endings and over 150 unique events. Your choices in this game matter. Can you get them all?] (button:)[[Play again]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/336858__mattc90__matts-emotional-ambient-synthscape-100-bpm.wav" autoplay loop>

You really dont want to? Really? You know what, fine. You don't. [[SASSY ENDING<- =>]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant'))

You don't wake up. Your sassiness knows no bounds; your desire to 'own' the narrative has compelled you this far. You know, I have feelings. You could at least try to play along. It's a text based game, but think about all the time I put into it. All the pictures and code. I'm not good at coding whatsoever, either. But if you just want to push buttons and do whatever you want, I can't stop you. You have free will. You can exercise it. So you chose not to be constrained by the narrative. You don't knnow what happens in this story, or what the big plot reveal is, but does that matter? You won. You got the upper hand on the author, right? I believe a benevolent God allows you to make that choice, no matter how stupid. This is your meta-ending. ###THE 'FUCK YOU' ENDING. //Your sassiness has negated the actual plot. Now you will never happen to this 40 year old man, because you wanted to be a smart aleck. Does he find his daughter? Is he a robot? Is he human? What happens? I don't know, do you? // (enchant:?NOTE, (color:grey)) |NOTE>[There are currently 10 endings and over 150 unique events. Your choices in this game matter. Can you get them all?] (button:)[[Play again]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/650939__beetlemuse__numskull.wav.crdownload" autoplay loop>

Your beam hits the monstrous thing square between what can only be described as between one set of its yellow, unblinking eyes. You were aiming for a head: that's as close as you can get. You're able to get real damage: you can see where the flesh is burnt away, a circular hole in the flesh. It bubbles and weeps, but it doesn't close back up. You've destroyed something. You've made it smaller, lesser. You are able to do this. (if:$cells >= 1)[ [[Fire again.]] ] (else:)[You've run out of cells. Shit. [[=> <- No more ammo.]] ] (set:$cells to it -1) (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/196914__dpoggioli__laser-gun.wav" autoplay> <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/48673__sea-fury__monster-2.wav" autoplay>

You weren't exactly trained on how to use these guns, so you can't really be blamed when your laser beam instead hits the pillar besides the monster, a scorching hole. The metal groans. Despite the monster's size, it's difficult to operate the gun, and the kickback is unexpected. Your fingers sting. You can't do anything but watch as it bounds on you, hundreds of hands reaching out for you. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[You let the inevitable happen.->Let it happen.]] (set:$cells to it -1) (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/196914__dpoggioli__laser-gun.wav" autoplay> <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/33245__ljudman__grenade%20(1).wav" autoplay> <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/9695__suonho__suonho_scaryscape_01.wav" autoplay>

You aim your weapon again, sweat dripping from your forehead and into your eye. You blink. You hold your breath. Its limbs gleam in the dark lighting of the station's emergency lights. You can see exposed veins, nerves. Does this thing even know it's alive? (if:$cells >= 1)[ (link:"You fire.")[ (set: $roll to (random: 1, 100))It (if: $roll <= 50)[hits. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[=>->Hit2.]] ](elseif: $roll >= 50)[doesn't work. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[Don't Hit<- =>]]] ] ] (else:)[You've run out of cells. Shit. [[=> <- No more ammo.]] ] (set:$cells to it -1) (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/528474__magnuswaker__phobiafestation-torture-screams.wav.crdownload" autoplay loop>

Once again, your laser beam finds its way to the monster, and it roars in a million voices at once, overlapping. Does it have vocal chords? You can see it, trying to replicate. There are extrernal organs, intestines and red viscera that it doesn't know belongs inside. You don't have time to continue to wonder: the beast brings a massive arm, or leg, or some sort of gross, tumor-filled appendage over your head. (if:$cells >= 1)[ (link:"You fire.")[It (set: $roll to (random: 1, 100))(if: $roll <= 50)[hits. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[=>->Hit3.]] ](elseif: $roll >= 50)[doesn't work. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[Don't Hit<- =>]]] You've got one last cell. You could always [[Shoot yourself.]] ] ] (else:)[You've run out of cells. Shit. [[=> <- No more ammo.]] ] (set:$cells to it -1) (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/196914__dpoggioli__laser-gun.wav" autoplay> <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/48673__sea-fury__monster-2.wav" autoplay>

You are out of ammo. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[Let it happen.]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant'))

You're out of ammo now, and you've hit it! Every single shot has hit the massive thing. You've done everything you can, destroyed it as much as possible. There's real damage: it's smaller, than it used to be, and the holes you've left in it drool some sort of viscous liquid, what you assume must be its equivalent of blood. But it's still not dead. It looks at you. (transition-arrive: "rumble")[[Let the inevitable happen.->Let it happen.]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/196914__dpoggioli__laser-gun.wav" autoplay> <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/48673__sea-fury__monster-2.wav" autoplay>

Its flesh connects solidly with your face, a burning pain. You scream. [[=>->Open your eyes.]] (enchant: ?page, (background: red + black)) (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/81042__rock-savage__blood-hitting-window.wav" autoplay> <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555181__audio_dread__short-intense-horror-ambiance.wav" autoplay loop>

You seem... Okay. It's hard to see in the dim light. [[Turn your face.<-Turn.]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555179__audio_dread__creepy-horror-ambient-drone.wav" autoplay loop>

Well. That's not good. That's really, really not good. ###(if: $Memory >= 3)[ [[Remember.]] ] (else-if: $ScaredyCat >= 3)[ [[SCARED ENDING<- Hoooooooly shit.]] ] (else:)[(text-style:"blink")[ [[NEUTRAL ENDING<- => ]]] ] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555180__audio_dread__intense-chaotic-horror-ambiance.wav" autoplay loop>

You look fine. Smarts like hell, but what doesn't at your age? [[Turn your head slowly.<- Can't be that bad.]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555179__audio_dread__creepy-horror-ambient-drone.wav" autoplay loop>

Hmmmmmm. Well, that's unexpected. ###(text-style:"blink")[ [[SIGMA ENDING<- =>]] ] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555180__audio_dread__intense-chaotic-horror-ambiance.wav" autoplay loop>

It doesn't matter where you go. You picture yourself building mental blocks, constructing a castle of determination. You will find your daughter. With your laserpistol in front of you, you shine your photonbeam around. You call for her. You at least remember her name. Your voice echoes, and you remember you're not alone on this station. You've come face to face with another monster. It is more apt to describe it as a well of flesh: it seems these things had merged, coalesced into a behemoth, grotesque and monsterous and awe-inspiring all at once. You've never seen a living thing so big before: it reminds you of being small, and young, purely by virture of being so huge. (if:$Memory >= 2)[ //The memory comes into sharp focus: toddling on your litle legs, too big for your small body, looking up at a building. You're back on a planet, not a SPARK station but with real soil beneath your feet, real air in your lungs. It's a steel spire of impressive proportion, and you feel, for the first time, the understanding that the world is big. So big you can't even imagine -- bigger than your parents, bigger than you could ever see. Big enough to scare you. Big enough to inspire you. You wanted to see what the world had to offer. Are you grateful now, for that choice?// ] The being has appendages sticking out of it, like your toy soldiers you'd left out in the heat in your boyhood, limbs and faces together in the hot sun. This thing stands at least two stories high: bigger than any animal, any alien you'd ever even heard of. You can see it breath and contract. Its skin is covered with weeping sores. You don't really care. You need to find your daughter. [[Shoot.->Fight it.]] [[Run away. ->Run away again.]] [[Think rationally and calmly.]]

It's hard to see in the dim light. You catalogue yourself. [[Turn your face curiously.<-Turn.]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555179__audio_dread__creepy-horror-ambient-drone.wav" autoplay loop>

Oh. Oh shit. Oh shiiiiit. ###(text-style:"blink")[[INVESTIGATOR ENDING<- =>]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555180__audio_dread__intense-chaotic-horror-ambiance.wav" autoplay loop>

Wow, you're really not looking bad at all. Kind of handsome, even. [[Check your more photogenic side.]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555179__audio_dread__creepy-horror-ambient-drone.wav" autoplay loop>

Oh! Well, that could've been worse, right? [[OPTIMIST ENDING<- =>]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555180__audio_dread__intense-chaotic-horror-ambiance.wav" autoplay loop>

You grimace. You don't look too worse for wear, but you know the other shoe is bound to drop. [[Drop the other shoe.]] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555179__audio_dread__creepy-horror-ambient-drone.wav" autoplay loop>

Uh oh. That's....... A problem. ###(text-style:"blink")[ [[ANGER ENDING<- =>]] ] (enchant: ?passage's chars, via (t8n-delay:pos * 30) + (t8n:'instant')) <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/555180__audio_dread__intense-chaotic-horror-ambiance.wav" autoplay loop>

He doesn't seem to have a real response to that. Instead, he licks his lips, a bead of sweat trailing down his jaw. You see something…pulse, underneath his skin, undulating, and his eyes twitch again. One pupil is a pinprick under the bulb of your photonbeam, the other wide and dilated. “You don’t get it,” he says. His hands, shaking, pull at the collar of his jumpsuit. His jaw clenches, another pulse rippling unnaturally through the muscle of his neck. (transition-arrive: "shudder")[[>]] (set:$optimist to it +1)

Yes. That's what's left. That's what options you have. Did you expect a deus ex machina rocket launcher? It's an abandoned space station. If there was an armory, wouldn't you have found it by now? [[Give me more cells.]] [[Okay.]] (set:$sassy to it +1)

I can't do that. It's a constraint of a narrative. Why do you need them? There's not even a proper turn-based combat system or engine in this code. Are you worried? Do you need health packs, or something? There are three cells. Make your decision already. There's no point prolonging the inevitable. [[Kill them.]] [[Find your daughter.]] [[Find an exit.]] [[Shoot yourself.]] (set:$sassy to it +1)

Thank you for conceding that constraint. It's very generous of you. With your newfound weapon, you have several choices. What will you do? [[Kill them.]] [[Find your daughter.]] [[Find an exit.]] [[Shoot yourself.]]

The blast is loud. You see the light, feel red, hot pain, and then-- [[Open your eyes.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/152322__deleted_user_1941307__heavy-beam-weapon.mp3" autoplay> (set:$kys to it +1)

After all, you managed to out run that thing! Your positive outlook however, does not stop you from hearing the thudding: big, lumbering steps. Something is coming towards you. You only have a split second to make a decision. There are two doors closest to you. <img class="full-width" img src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/IMG_4455.jpg"> You have to focus your eyes to read the labels. [[Open the door on your right, marked 'CLEANING SUPPLIES.']] [[Open the door on your left, marked 'Dr. Li's Office.']] [[Jump off the edge of the observation deck. #semicolontattoo.]] <audio src="https://file.garden/YxJU0GkUFG06VMf-/71949__cmusounddesign__bm_monster.wav" autoplay loop> (set:$optimist to it +1)