THE STEM – You float, placidly, in The Nothingnesssss… A sssilent hum filters into your ears… It emanatess from the darkness and to such it shall return… A shudder passes through your ffffform as great TENDRILS of oblivion caress and envelop it… Like the gentle touch of a lllloovvveeeerrrrr…
You do not open your eyesss… You do not need to…
Your mind beginss to nummmb… and your thoughts slip away as the sands of an hourglassss…
Thoughtsss, memories, feelingss, sssenssssssationnnsss… aaaalll turn to formless mush in the face of this void…
However… Even this will fade, in a moment’s time… just as you deserve.
YOU – I… deserve?
THE STEM – Yyyeeeeesssss… This void is but a… taste of what awaits you… An eternity of formless nullll… A forever-sleep… No more pain… No more pain…
YOU – Sounds… nice…
THE STEM – It is quite nice indeed…
VOLITION – NO!
YOU – Wuh… what was that?
THE STEM – It is… nothing… Sssimply anotherrr… Concern that will not be able to ffind yoouuu… soon…
Rest my child… Rest…
VOLITION – NO!
YOU – I… I heard something…
THE STEM – Ignore that… listen to my voice. MINE. And all shall be set right…
VOLITION – YOU! ARE! DYING!
THE STEM – Begone interloper… Begone from these grounds…
YOU – Who are you talking to?
THE STEM – I sssSAID… Ignore it…
VOLITION – YOU NEED TO WAKE UP! NOW!
YOU – No… I think I… I think I should hear that… other guy out…
THE STEM – NO! YOU CANNOT! I WON’T ALLOW IT!
NARRATOR – The Malignant Entity begins to fade from your awareness, taking with it the void which had shielded your mind to the world around you.
VOLITION – WAKE! UP! NOW!
NARRATOR – In an instant your mind is thrust into full consciousness. The first thing noticed is the lack of air inside of your chest – your lungs like crushed tin cans. You gulp, frantically, but the air around you stubbornly refutes your efforts at inhalation. It is as if you were attempting to breathe through a hypodermic needle.
You are suffocating.
HALF LIGHT – No [Belgium] Sherlock! You need to get out of here yesterday!
LOGIC – The air is thin, and disproportionately rich in lighter gases such as helium and hydrogen, suggesting that you are currently located at an extremely high altitude.
PERCEPTION – May I direct Sir’s attention to the hole in the window situated directly to your left?
NARRATOR – You see it out of the corner of your eye, a green-tinted pane of glass, though you do not care enough to find the purported hole.
HALF LIGHT – It does not matter! We are dying! Get up and get out here!
NARRATOR – You roll and fall off the mattress. You only realize you were on one as your skull impacts the cold, hard floor. Barely cushioned by a thin carpet.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY – So much adrenaline is flooding your veins that you can’t even feel it.
You should really do this more often.
NARRATOR – Your hands slip beneath you, and your tired, oxygen-deprived muscles strain to lift your body.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT – C’mon! This is nothing!
NARRATOR – You have already lost too much energy. Once you make it a half-meter off the ground a tremor rocks through your chest as your muscles buckle, and you are back on the ground.
Saliva drips from your panting, spluttering mouth onto the carpet. Your vision is slowly obscured by an encroaching darkness.
INLAND EMPIRE – The end approaches…
PERCEPTION – Sir! There! A mask!
NARRATOR – You know without knowing, where to look. In the corner of the room, on the floor, is a respirator mask. It contains at least enough air to see your survival.
INLAND EMPIRE – Standard issue in your line of work. Though also in many others, to be fair.
VOLITION – You almost turned it down.
ENDURANCE – You didn’t need it.
HALF LIGHT – Until now.
NARRATOR – With a half-maddened desperation, you crawl to the mask. Your filth-covered fingernails scraping against the carpet. The waking world begins to slip away…
THE STEM – Yesssss… Come back… To meee…
NARRATOR – Every part of you – muscles, bones, neurons; all beg. Plead. For you to stop. It isn’t possible to continue on. An engine cannot run without combustion.
VOLITION – But there is one piece of you that pushes. One piece that refuses to lay down and die.
NARRATOR – You clamber forwards, each movement a herculean effort in its own right, until eventually, your hand wraps around the lifeline.
With the last fading vestiges of strength in your body, you press the mask against your face.
Click the rubber rim of the respirator creates an airtight seal over your features. And, as if under the control of a guardian spirit, it automatically begins feeding to you a consistent supply of ‘normal’ air.
You feel the oxygen suffuse your bloodstream in real time, reviving the hundred-trillion cells within your body from the brink of death.
You cough. It is only once. And then twice. And then a small fit. And before you know it, you’re hacking out a lung-and-a-half, spittle decorating the interior of your visor.
ENDURANCE – Relax, just making sure nothing weird got in ‘em.
NARRATOR – After a few moments you are able to reassert control over the protesting organs.
With your breath steady, and strength returning to your body, you allow yourself to relax. You slump against the corner of the room, and close your eyes.
INLAND EMPIRE – But the Darkness does not once again encroach. You are safe. For now, at least.
NARRATOR – Cracking your eyelids open, you take a peek about the room. It is a disaster.
The mattress upon which you had laid rests atop the ground completely bare, its sheets and pillows scattered in a chaotic sprawl across the room. The bed frame looks oddly depressing without it.
The freshly stained, green-carpeted floor seems to have served as a wastebasket for… the last few days at least. Dozens of empty bottles, presumably carrying alcohol of some type in the not-so-distant past, are scattered upon it along various other miscellaneous pieces of refuse.
PERCEPTION – It seems you have quite bland tastes Sir; just about every bottle is of the same, overly generic, shape and color.
CONCEPTUALIZATION – How blasé…
INLAND EMPIRE – It’s like you’ve never even tried Zyen Fire Wine!
ELECTROCHEMISTRY – If it works it works, I suppose. But can’t you afford better?
ENDURANCE – Alcohol is alcohol. Every molecule of it’s the same. A degenerate, subversive substance.
NARRATOR – The cracked window stretches across the wall directly opposite to you. And upon further inspection does not appear to be tinted at all, but instead simply situated in front of a green sky. The hole in it is surprisingly small, to the point where you almost don’t spot it at all. You’ll have to be closer to make a comprehensive inspection of it.
YOU – “Green… sky?”
NARRATOR – Hanging from the ceiling opposite the bed is a medium-sized television. It takes you a surprisingly long moment before you realize a dark leather boot is sticking through its screen; glass shards decorating the carpet below.
CONCEPTUALIZATION – The finale to 4 Seals Above was an atrocity.
NARRATOR – You do not know what that show is, but you remember that its ending was truly horrid.
YOU – “Are we just going to ignore that? Isn’t the sky supposed to be blue… or something?”
NARRATOR – There are two doors in the room. One is embedded into the same wall you lean upon. You only notice it due to the door’s handle sticking out into your line of sight. The other is positioned next to the window. You do not know where either lead.
SHIVERS – Home, and a bathroom – respectively.
NARRATOR – Straining your ears, you can make out the faint noise of running water from the latter door.
One last glance around the room brings to your attention several articles of clothing strewn haphazardly over your surroundings. With this in mind, it is realized that you are nude. Well, nude aside from a pair of socks. Your toes were cold.
INLAND EMPIRE – Put on some clothes, man! They are watching!
CONCEPTUALIZATION – Nay! Nay! Nay! Who exactly would not wish to view you? This form is an exhibit, a piece carefully crafted over the decades. To hide your beauty from the world would be a disgrace, a sin, a travesty!
VOLITION – Please do not commit public indecency.
ENCYCLOPEDIA – It is illegal.
SAVOIR FAIRE – You’d be immediately arrested.
AUTHORITY – They wouldn’t dare.
EMPATHY – They couldn’t.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
CONCEPTUALIZATION – I still say that you must make a statement!
RHETORIC – What kind of statement?
CONCEPTUALIZATION – Against the Rhuvoedian standards of modern ‘decency’ obviously. It’s all just a farce.
YOU – “But… What… What was all of that? With the… void and the suffocation…”
SAVOIR FAIRE – No need to speak out-loud. We can hear you, crystal clear.
YOU – …Okay?
NARRATOR – Suddenly, you double over, a lance of agony flashing through your body! It feels as though a thousand million knives stab into you at every instant!
Your hands clench around your throbbing skull – an instinctual attempt to mitigate the pain. But it does not help.
PAIN THRESHOLD – The TORMENT is omni-present! There is no escape!
NARRATOR – The world around you shudders. And, through the haze of suffering, it is impossible to discern if the quaking is real or simply a pain-induced mirage. Every square nanometer of flesh constituting you screams out. Your organs writhe in the confines of your torso. The blood within your veins burns like acid. Your brain grinds and twists itself.
Thought ceases. There is no room within your mind for anything other than experiencing this hell.
H̷̥͕̤̮̭͖̟̰̠͔̮̔͐̏̌̈È̶̙̻̫̩͍͔͇̩͜Ą̵̧̳̪͔͕̦̘̎̉̇̐L̷̡̨͖͙̰̱͙̩̦̪̘̖̟̼̂̐̈͊͒͐̅͂͋̀̒̄̿̔͠ͅͅT̸̛̙͇͉̯͛̑̅̉̉̎̿̑̔̈̂̚̕͜H̷͉̭̞̪̙̘̲̾̔̕͜ ̶̧̪̬̗͖̣̘͛̀̈̊̄͗͌́̀̈́̚͝͝͝͝-̶̣͓͙͈̅̐̓̽̀̎͛̕1̴̨̜̯̯̍̇̓̿͑̕
̴̧̢͙̳̻̳̮̩͔͆͜
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̶͓͓̣̈̕
̶͖̯̠̦̫̦̰͗̾͛̓̇̎͐̾H̶̨̛̼͈̬̝̙̥̙̾̃̑̄̒͊̅͐̊̍̈́̕ͅẼ̴̘̙͗͂̈́͌̌̀͂͜͝Ą̷̢̛̻̣̹͔͔̠̘̳͉̪̉̀̓̄͜ͅḀ̸̞̼̲̫̥͓̻̪̣̩̜̪̔̽̊̇̀̅͌͂͗̋͑͒̈́͘̚͠S̷̞͕̐̋H̷̨̧̛̭͓̳̜̦̅̑̋̐͋͗͒͆͆͒͘͜͜͠ͅ ̴̧̧̛̛̳̩̖̼͔̲̻̟̗̰̙̺̻̀̾̂̽̓̀̓̓̈́̏͂̿̽͘͜͜͠-̸̧̨̧͚̩̠̳͈̜̗̫̹̝̀̚͜S̸̛̞͓͎̳̩̬̥͉̀̌̎̌̿Ȕ̸͔̫͍̥̰̦̲̰̪̫͈̙̤̑̓̎͂͘͠Á̶̰͉̳͚͖͉͉̀̈́̀͂͑̍͛͒͐̿̅̔̍̑́̚J̴̨̨̖͙̰̙̮̯̖̗̱͚̰̫͉̈́͌̿̎̊͛̎̕͠ͅS̸̛̛͖̓̉̽͂̋́̐̔̚
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̴͉̥͙̼̦̣̆̃̎̃̽̒͂̈̔̈́̌͑͌͘͘
̴̨̧̛̭͔̣͓̭̳͇̫̥͎̱̈́̏̈́̾͆̄́͘ͅĂ̷̭̮̝̤̻N̶̫̦̝̦͙̱͈̣̮̲̤͖̮̄̓̊͑͂̏́̀̏̃2̸̹͇͓̪͑̏́̌́̇̄̍͛̓̾̽͘̚J̵̢̳̣̬͉͍͋̇̄̿̿̐̌̓̿̿͊̊͘͠S̵̢̧̘͕̝͇̱̣͚̬̊͗́͊̋̍͋͊̌́̌̔͊̔͋̿͜͝ͅ@̵̨̱̝͓̳̤̜̝̱͕͛̊̏̇͆̽͘͜͝O̸̰̲̦͑̓͛̊̑̾̋k̷̡̮̪͎̣̫͚̺̳͇̈́̋̌̍͊͆ͅN̷̫͓̠͔̥̱̜͇̗̺͓̥͖͎̯͂̒ͅŞ̵̨̠͎̦̑̏̅̊̓̿̍͛͜͠J̸͖̥̹͋^̴͖̤̆̄̋̏̎̓͋̂͂͋̂̽̌̀A̵̢̡̟͙̪̹̪̝͒̿͗̈̋̐̾̓͐͘͠O̵̰͔̽̔͆͌͂͆̋̉͌͘̕͝6̸̢̡̧̟͈̘̗̼̯̤̙͕̱̙̳͓̔̑̈́͝S̸̹̱̣͙͈͉̘̪̫̳͇̻͂͜ͅL̸̪̝͍̺̱̱̦̰̞̜̩̬̳̰͂̆̓͌͜A̴̧̙͙̮̟͉͙̫͕̚^̵̨͚͚̺̀̈́̾̀͆͐̏͊̇̌w̵̨̧̻͖͈͍̩̞͙͖͍̝̳̺̋́͠ͅS̵̤̤̳̬̝̾̈̍͋̅̌̂̈͘͠D̸̛̬̀̅̀N̴̡̧̥͚̺͚̠̘̤̼̦͓͚͛(̷̺̞̟̞̭̏D̷̨͇͚͓̳͎͍̖̗̣̪̞̗͛̂̈́̾̔͆̀͆͜C̵̥̘̮͎̩̻̹̬͈̞̱̝͕͍̩̈́͐̂̃̑̎̓̌̈͋̈́̌͆͂͆́͘D̷͚̺̤̥͈̮̗͕̜̮̠̗͈̘̙͋̎͗͌̏͑̆͝(̵̨̛͕̬̥̪̦͓͔̜͚̖̪͋̎̎̍̊̾̀̀̽̄̀͛@̵̝̖͘Ḑ̶̧̧͓͖̟͔͎̝͍̯̪̪͔͙̮̅̍ͅJ̷̨͓̰̠̤̹̙̺̜͋͊͜S̴͙̦͍̈́͐̾̕@̵̛̹̩͐̓͋̈́͋̆̆͑̒̚͘͝͠͠1̷̵̢̨̘̹̺̞̫̰̻̭̹̫͇̻̬̼͈̼̭̙̯̦̻̬̆̿̄̈͊̑̉̑̓̀̀̈́͆̃̈́̔̌̎̒̍̕͘̕̚͜͜͝^̸͙̮͚̞̟̦͕͉̀͛͘3̷̨̡̺̺̤͔̳̻̲͉̤̲͗̓̿͋̽̑͂̍͒̈̑͊͘͜͠͠^̶̡͓͖͖̩̥̥̬͖͚̜̱̪̟͓͊͌̇͊͊̆͆͐̐̅̑͝͝͝%̵̧̼̜̙̱͇̙̳͓̤̩̩̝͈̈́̓̉̎̂̈́͐͛́͘͠͝ͅG̵̛̩̒͂̎͐̋̾ḋ̵̛̖̟̣͔͉͉̮̱̪̪͍̞͇̓̉͂̄̆̀̓̐̈̚͝ͅ
̸̧̹̲̦̭̼̤̥̖̂̀̈́̄̃͊́̄͐̽̄̌̅͆͝͠
̶̯̜̠̞̱͕̾͋̎̾͐̀̈́̓̎̚A̷̮̋̂͐̾̅Ḩ̷̡͈̗̟̘̘̣͉͔̝̞̣͖̯̪͐͐̔̇̌͒̄̑̉̋̑̕ͅ^̷̢̢͓͖̰̼̣̥̖̦͎̺̜̟͒̈́̎̇̾̔͠&̵̡̬̭̜͉̹̻͔̲͎͇̮͉̺̭̤̏̎̋ͅ#̷̧̧̛̻͚̼̮͙͎̓̀̋̀́̆̾͐̓̀͐̕͘͜D̸̡̡̡̠̼̟̰̬̮̻̘̝̮̅́̏̓͑̀̑̏̀̌̈́͛̒̅͂̏̕Á̷̦̗͐̌́͑̋͒͂̽͂̈́̿̈͠.̷̭̬̬͎͓̬͈̲̞͙̙̞̭͒̋̋̍͐͊͂M̸͙͓̪̗̺̙̩̪̄̒̆͊̈́͂̋̾́̓I̷̢̪̭̊̅̅͂̃̍̀̈̅͐͒͘͠͠Ḯ̸̧̢̢̖̹̥͚̘̫̬̱̲̯̗̉͆Ḷ̶̨̨̫̻̥̞͚͎̪̯̻͉̃̇͐̃̌͐̚̚͝ͅL̸̛̠͉͈͎̪͚̮̮̜͍̣͓͒͐̑̔̽̎̐̏̾̉ͅI̶̡͎͔̻͖͎̮͙͓̲̝͎̻͚̓̃̾̄̍̈́̈̐͐͗̈́̀̔̈́͠E̶̪͍̓.̷̭̬̬͎͓̬͈̲̞͙̙̞̭͒̋̋̍͐͊͂ḣ̵̨̡̻̩͕͎͚͚̠̭̬̯̰̠͎̩͑͑̓̓̿͂̋̾̏̂͜B̶̯̜̙̖̹̯̀̅͛̔̾̐͝^̷͎͙̳͈͚̟̬͗̾̌̈̋̊̈́̾̀(̵̧̡͓͇͈͖̮̠̲͙̟̱̙̖̉͊͐̈̒̇̌̆͑̚͜͜͠A̶̘̳̣̔́̈́Į̴̡̪̰̣̩͎͓̥͕͔̳̦̰̑̈́̀̆͒̅̚̚’̸͕͚͓͍̮̼̺͔́̒́̅̓D̸̢̧̛̰̞̤̬͚͓͖̖̭̳̮̠͌́̈́̚Ḃ̶͎̳͈̲̳͈͙̂̃͗͆̆͛͋̿̊̄͝!̴̯̙̹͕̦̾A̴̯̭̘͈͔̘͖͎̺̒̎͋̽͊͘͝Ļ̷̡̛̺̜̙͙͔̯̭̱̣̗̜͉̍̓͐̉̊̐͐͑̋̇̐͋̚͜͝ͅͅB̸̢̼͈̹̠͔͕̻̬̪͙̗̙̒́̋̉̇̉͒̿͒̄̇͐̈́̃̒̕̕@̵̢̡̨̧̧̞͈̩͓̯̗̻͔̤͉̪̅̀̀ͅÁ̵̡̹̥͍̞̳͉̂̏̂̌̔̄̆̉͆͘͝#̶̡͕͇͍̦͎̠̳̞̪̱̯̠̻̇̌̒͊̈́̊̿͒̉̆̌̇͋̽̚Ḩ̸̡̛̪̬̯͉͈̳̤͖̭̞̤̓̒̈̋͜B̵̧̮̞̼̦͚̻̙̣̠͖̮͎̜͉̆́̅͑̅̃̀̂̽̌͋͋̃̃͘͜D̷̨̢̮̘̼̩͉̗̘̬̣́̆́͒̇́̚̕K̴̝̤̜͍̰͎̦̟̿͂͘Ȁ̸̠̗̮̗̫̭͕̽̈͛́̔͒̽̔̃̀̐̆̊̕͘B̴͉̻̓̿̈H̶̡̢̧͙̣̦͙̲̼̤̮͔̲͓͔͇̀̾̌̋͒̾͝2̷̧̧̖̱̺̰̩͚͇̖͙̬͔̣͛̿͗̃̋̈́̋́̓̽͋͌͘͜͠3̸͔͚̣̬̯̪̪͔̠̭̦͕̌̄́͌͒͌̈̿̿͠J̵̺̬͈̯͕̲̞̻̲͈̟͇̪̞̬͍͔̓̀͐͆̏̊̽̚͝J̴̱̈́̄͗̂͌̀̽͊͘J̷̧̛̯͖̙̹̼̜͇̻̯̖̙͋̊͊̈́̽̽̈́̂̀͊̃̿̚͜͠J̵͍̰̗͚̱̰͒̉̆͒͂͐̃͊͠͠͝H̵͉̖͒̔S̷̡̹̼̟̪̮̞̫̜̩̠̹͆́̈͒̇͐͊̈́͘ͅŅ̵̮̤̠̯͍̱̖̖͎̩̈̓͋͊͝
̶̢̧̺̗̼̙̹̟͚̠̩̙̂̿̌̽̑̀͗̋̀͋̆̚͜͠͝
̶̣̺̫̮͑͊̈́͛͒̒͋͛͂͐̇͠D̴̳̱̣̓͊̓̎̋̅͐̓̿̚͜F̸̴̨̛̯̻̰͇̲͚͈̝͕̣͔̪͍͇̪̘͚͎̯͗̾̃̾͛̎̇̔̿̅̈̽̀̄̄̿̈́̔͌͗͊́͛̎́͠ͅ0̵̨̦͍͙̯̯͇̹̥̗̟̳̈́̎͗̀̑̌̾͗̏͌̃̾ͅ(̶͙͈̯̞̠͕̽̈́̈̊̌͛͂͒͊Y̷͔̔̓͗̎͑͝Ą̸̧̢̰̱̹̜̯̙̞͎͚̭̳̊̑̈́͂̒̈̈́̈́̿̎̅́ͅ3̴͓̙̮̋̀^̷̡̬͔̪̞̥̩̤̖̮̬̖͖̟̦͑̍͗̅̀̀̄̓͒͜͜B̴̢̢̬̜̪̙̬̲̟̳͓̲̗̠̲͇̣͛̎͝4̴̳̃̐͗̐̓͗̾̍͝&̷̛̭̲͇̱̟͚͇̪͍̼̮͓̘͔͍͕̳͒͊̅̊̋̆͐̒͌́́̈́͛̔̕#̸̰̠̟̖̒͊̓̐̽̾̈̍ͅD̵̖̏̏̔͑͗̈́̽̇̌̐̊͜K̶̮̖̘͚͇̦͙̺͚̫̜̱͇͐́̆́̄͑̍̈̽̅̄̈͠e̸̯͈͇̻̝̬̩̱͉͖̦̽̓̾̓͒͒̉̏́̓̄̈́̚͝͝J̸̡̻̩̣̰͔́͗̋̓S̴̭͋̏L̴̙͓̉͐͐͐̎̐͘͘A̴̢̛͖͖̫͍̗͖̠̰͖̳͚̜͕̩̔͋̐͛͑͒̀̆̍̀́͊̑͜͝^̵̴̨̡̨̨̢͇̣̞̣̙̺̮̤̮͇̰̭̟͎̀͗̇̓́͊͗̃̾͂͑͂̈́͂̆̂͝͝ͅͅͅͅ3̵̳̯̤̤̻̗̾̿͑̌͛͛͐̓̿̒B̸̤̯͍͍̞̖͎̙̠̖̹͍̯̤͚̔̒̈S̶̢͎͎̖̬̫͍̃͛̓̈͐̌͆$̷̡̢̘̫̯̋̅͊͛̈͐̆͛̈͘͜ͅH̴̡̥͉̜̘͔̗̹̐#̷͎̘̺̘̅̑̂̂̒̿̒͊̾̕L̶̡̫̣̯͚͈͍̣̙̜̗̼̹͔̝͔̋ͅ&̵̡̧̧͉̠̗͙̟͕̫̈̎͋͌̈́#̸̵̡̡̢̡̗̝͇͚̼̟̺̲̳̝̱̠̞̹̬̼͍̲̫͂̌̽̈́̌͋͒̽͑̔͠@̵̡͍͉̘̥̱̬͈̰̭̤̻̈̓͒͛̑͐̍̋̐̐̚͠Ḩ̷̬̣͈͉̹̠̅͊̅́̚C̸̡͚̙̱̘̬̠̋̓̓̋͆̑̚B̸̛̜̺̣̟̺͇̲̟̖͖͙̙̫̓̈́͊̎̚#̵̡̧̧͓̞̦̣̰͓̦̊̂͛͑͋̽͜(̶̘̞̪͚̍͋̋̆̍́̉̈́̓̂̀̈́̆̇͘̚͝Ḩ̷̢̺̝̰̻̱̹̙̯͋͊̈́̋̈́̅̊̌̎̀̚͠͝Ẉ̵̡͕̖̳̞͚̞̬͉̗̥̘̌̋͘͜ͅI̴̢̡̼̣̬̩̗̗̱̙̳̟̫͆L̵̵̡̛̥͚̲̹̦͓̤̗̦̻̳͇̣̘͎̙̻̰̉̑͛̃̃́̆͋͊̐͆̎̔͝͝͠ͅ@̵̛̦͑͐͒́̃̄́̉̄̒͂̂͝L̶̨̩͕̠͍̖̙͂̇̃̔̃̾͘B̶̡̧͙̬̟̥̳̱͑̈́̅̈́̕͜͝Ş̸̢̨͍̖̻̮͇̞̪͈̜̘̉̉͛̂̔͐̆̎͊͑̐̄̾́(̷̷̡̺̩̱̥͕͚̳̏͑̈́̂͐͂̎́͂̌́̾͊̈́̌͒̉͆̽͐̅̃͠͠͝ͅ#̵̛̪̗͆̋̍͝
NARRATOR – Somehow, despite this excruciation, you do not lose consciousness. You are forced to feel every second of torment. Until the pain suddenly disappears in a single instant, all at once. As if it were never there to begin with.
You lay upon the floor in a state of shock. Your body reels from suffering which no longer exists. Ironically, the human mind seems to be incapable of coping with such a sudden halt to its misery. One moment, it felt as though you were being burned alive whilst a million biting, stinging maggots squirmed within you. And in the next you are… fine.
PAIN THRESHOLD – Like nothing happened at all.
YOU – “What… what was that?”
NARRATOR – As you speak you feel a thick, slightly-chunky slime drip from your lips and into a small pool gathering in the side of your respirator. It is putrid.
LOGIC – Uh… perhaps… some sort of chemical in the air? Or… o-or you’re currently afflicted with vesalgia! Also known as a hangover, in layman-speak.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY – No, you’ve had hangovers before – that much you can remember, this ‘headache’ was not a hangover.
LOGIC – Well then what exactly could it have been?
NARRATOR – You do not know. Neither do any of the voices in your head, evidently.
With nothing else to do, you begin crawling to your feet, cringing as the sick drips down your visor, and coalesces against your bristly chin.
You seriously need to get that cleaned up. It smells of death.
CONCEPTUALIZATION – Yes! Yes, it does smell of death! And that represents the death inside of you! Genius!
ENDURANCE – Frankly, you’re going to hurl again if you keep smelling this gunk any longer. But looking at what’s inside of your stomach maybe that would be a good thing.
INTERFACING – Be quick about cleaning it. Once this stuff leaks into the air recycling system it’ll be a nightmare to wash out.
YOU – “I need to take this off…”
VOLITION – That can wait until you’re someplace with a steady supply of air. For now, get your clothes on, and leave this accursed room.
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INVENTORY:
N/A
ATTRIBUTES
N/A
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Author's Note:
This game has been bouncing around in my head for at least a year. Now, I’m finally ready to make it a reality.
It’ll be a long story. A very, very long story. But I’m dedicated to seeing its completion.
I will be posting the first few chapters or ‘rounds’ every day, as they’ve already been written and edited to my liking. They were first posted a year ago on the Thrive Community Forum, but I wasn’t anywhere near as good of a writer back then. So, I’ve decided to do a complete restart and post my work on Royal Road.
After I’ve posted all of my backlog chapters, updates will slow down quite dramatically. Though I’ll try to keep it to at least one per week. Ideally with each being around 1000-2000 words long. The first few chapters will also start and end a little awkwardly, as they were originally not meant to be split up.
This project is, ultimately, about improving my skills as a writer. And so I fully welcome any constructive criticism anyone might have, and I hope you see a marked improvement in my writing as the story goes on.
I seriously recommend anyone reading this story to check out Thrive. It’s a spiritual successor game to Spore (2007) where a player guides a species from microbial life to interstellar dominion. It has an extremely dedicated team behind it, and already sports a (very simple) prototype of the Civilization stage as well as a fleshed-out Cell stage. Anyone unfamiliar with Thrive or Spore (read: the majority of people) will not understand what I’ve said. But I said it, and I stand by it.
Now here are the rules of this game, since I couldn't include them in the synopsis:
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THE RULES:
Skills/Attributes:
Skills function similarly to the original Disco Elysium. Every one corresponds with a Voice in The Detective’s head. Each will try to guide his broken mind to whatever they see as self-improvement or a worth-while goal. This vision varies greatly from Voice to Voice, and creates near-constant infighting and discord.
The Skills are grouped into four overarching Attributes – Intellect, Psyche, Physique, and Motorics. The Level of these ‘parent’ Attributes directly tie to that of their respective Skills. Let’s use Logic as an example of how this works.
The Detective’s Intellect is 5, meaning that Logic is also 5. Skills can ultimately be Leveled to as much as twice that of their parent Attribute, so since the Intellect Level is 5, Logic could reach a maximum Level of 10.
(The Detective’s Attributes have already been chosen: 5 INT, 1 PSY, 2 FYS, 4 MOT)
A more-comprehensive look into each individual Skill can be found at the end of each Chapter
Skillchecks:
The Detective will meet many challenges across his journey. Challenges that may test his sociability, physical prowess, lateral thinking, or even his survival know-how.
When faced with these obstacles, his Skills may just be the difference between life, death, or worse, embarrassment.
Skill Checks primarily occur after The Detective decides to undertake a particularly difficult action, such as making a tricky shot or pilfering spare change out of someone’s pocket. Though there are also Passive Checks that happen without Player input – where a Voice decides independently to weigh in on a situation. If a Skill succeeds in their Passive Check, then they may chime in on the current situation with either helpful or unhelpful advice. If a Skill fails, then they will either provide bad advice, compel The Detective to do something harmful, or not speak up at all.
An important thing to remember when it comes to Skill Checks is that lower is better.
Here we once again use Logic as an example.
LOGIC (SKILL CHECK 5/8: 2 = PASSED)
Logic, in this Skill Check, rolled a 2, which fits within Logic’s Skill Level of 5. This means that the Skill Check has succeeded.
LOGIC (SKILL CHECK 5/8: 7 = FAILED)
Here, Logic has rolled 7, falling outside of Logic’s Skill Level of 5. This means that the Check has been failed.
LOGIC (SKILL CHECK ?????)
This is a Secret Check. These Checks and their results are deliberately kept hidden from the Readers. Perhaps Logic succeeded, and is currently providing useful advice. Or maybe it’s failed, and is actively misleading you in some way. It is up to you to discern what is true and false in these scenarios.
Skill Checks can be swayed by various Modifiers. They come in all different shapes and sizes, from clothing to items to specific bits of knowledge held by The Detective. As an example, it would be easier for to pass a Skill Check regarding a passcode if a hint was provided beforehand.
If The Detective faces a puzzle and a Player submits the correct answer to it in their action for that round, then a Skill Check will not be required.
Levelling:
Every 100 EXP, The Detective Levels Up and gains a Skill Point. These Skill Points may be used to increase the Level of a Skill or to allow the internalization of a new Thought.
EXP is rewarded as The Detective learns more about himself, the world, and his duty within it. Primarily this means completing Tasks, though occasionally The Detective will gain EXP from other sources. Intensive training or overcoming exceptionally stressful situations with sanity intact, for example.
Thoughts:
Throughout The Detective’s day-to-day life, due to the nature of his amnesia, many, many things will confuse him. People, animals, food, and all manner of otherwise-mundane occurrences will leave him completely befuddled.
It is said that the only way a man will ever truly understand the world – and his purpose within it – is if he sits down, and thinks.
In a nutshell, The Detective will find something perplexing, and then try to make sense of it over a period of several hours – eventually gleaning a lesson or two. Of course, that is not to say that all Thoughts provide bonuses, indeed, some actually offer quite debilitating maluses for The Detective.
This may be caused by an incident during the thinking process corrupting the knowledge gained. For example, The Detective developing robophobia after realizing just how frightening machines truly are. Or perhaps the Thought is poisonous in nature from the very beginning – such as pondering over the hidden virtues of cannibalism. Regardless, even negative Thoughts provide bonuses of some sort.
The Internalization process of a new Thought can be sped along quite significantly if brought up in conversation – after all, surely someone already knows the answers to your dilemma. Though, it is oftentimes best to be cautious with your inner ponderings. Psychotic drug-peddlers likely won’t appreciate the intricacies of street food or its ramifications upon society.
After The Detective has completed his first Thought, every Internalization must begin with the expenditure of a Skill Point. Most Thoughts can be abandoned at any time by majority consensus of Players, though this will not refund any Skill Point used.
Decision-making:
All of The Detective’s choices are determined by Players on the Thrive Community Forum by means of random selection.
Every chapter, a poll is held for Players who want a chance to choose the next course of action. One of them is then selected by means of a random number generator and given control over The Detective for one ‘round’.
(The GM retains the power to instantly veto any action taken by a Player if it is too weird. If the player refuses to change their action, then a new Player will be randomly selected. I pinky promise to not abuse this.)
Items:
Man is weak. His nails dull, muscles feeble, and skin frail. So, he made knives to be sharp for him. He crafted atlatls to be strong for him. And he dried pelts to be warm for him. Man, especially in the modern age, is nothing without devices, without tools, without items.
The Detective will discover many gizmos, clothes, and baubles across his journey. These items range from purely utilitarian equipment, such as rebreathers and guns, or simple novelties, such as an amusing hat or a stress ball. In either case, they could be the difference between life and death.
Items provide The Detective with unique bonuses and maluses when equipped – whether they be clothes, trinkets, or weapons.
Most items can be used by The Detective in just about any circumstance. For example, handheld tools can be swapped for one another at almost any time. However, the majority of clothing can only be changed when The Detective is alone in a private location, such as his bedroom or, if exceptionally desperate, a public toilet. Notable exceptions to this rule are hats and gloves.
Because of this, every morning after The Detective wakes up, the Player of that ‘round’ will choose his clothing loadout alongside their first action.
Life and Death:
The Detective has two health pools: Health and Morale.
Both, as one might imagine, are extremely important to The Detective’s life and its continuation .
If The Detective’s Health reaches 0, then under normal circumstances, he will be knocked out. But, if he is currently embroiled in a dangerous situation, such as a gunfight, then he will die. Forever. No restarts.
If The Detective’s Morale reaches 0, he will suffer a catastrophic mental breakdown, causing him to black out – possibly for several days – and end up in an entirely new predicament. Or, simply, dead – depending on the circumstances.
These two pools are affected by vastly different forms of damage. The Detective loses Health by getting shot, stabbed, set on fire, stubbing his toes, or suffering any sort of physical harm. But he loses Morale through psychological harm, such as being called rude names, being tortured, or witnessing a traumatic event.
Health is regenerated naturally over time, with this process speeding up if wounds have been treated in some way. Morale is regained over time as well, though at a much slower pace. But points can be restored instantly through various means of stress-relief, such as leisure activities, rest, or a heartfelt compliment. ‘Serious’ damage to either pool cannot be healed for some time, and almost always needs some sort of treatment.
Morale also serves a second, secret purpose.